The Houndsman 2: A Base-Building LitRPG Adventure
Author: J. Pal
Date: 2022-02-08 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: The walls might be high, but are they enough to protect the pack, his land, and its people? Flint thought over a decade in the Iron Army's Building Division gave him enough experience to complete the life quest. He was wrong. Restoring the Slumbering Fort and awakening proved no challenge for a man of his talents. However, protecting it and Lea's Slumber from looming threats is an entirely different story. The first two attacks were minor. Now more formidable threats are on the way. Fortunately, Flint has his pack and the Woodson Council by his side. When the Iron Army returns and the Wyld ine

THE HOUNDSMAN

©2021 J PAL

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Thank you for reading The Houndsman Book One

1

“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” The boy to his left asked, his voice cracking.

The boy wore the construction division’s colors, but he didn’t have any hair on his arms, let alone his lips. “Have you unlocked [Reinforce] yet?” Flint asked, gritting his teeth. The boy shook his head. “Then just stick close to me, and we’ll be fine.”

Flint’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the scene below. A young shield-bearer stood firm in a cave troll’s path. His chest tightened, knowing there was nothing he or his fellow builders could do to help. He raised his crossbow and released a bolt. The projectile didn’t deter the monster, bouncing off its hide. Flint knew it was too late, and the alchemists’ hide-melting concoctions were out of reach, but that didn’t mean he’d stop trying. The cave troll swiped its monstrous club and crumpled the shield bear’s chestplate, sending him flying into a neighboring construction site. Much to Flint’s disappointment, the young man didn’t reappear.

If they survived, Flint intended to have a word with the watch and his superior officers. The warning bells only started ringing after the outpost’s outer walls had collapsed. He and the civilians knew the Wyld’s forces were attacking when their bellowing horns shook every structure in the settlement.

What the hell were the fools doing? Playing cards?

Now, the war beasts and trolls were painting the streets red with human blood. If the fools did their jobs like they were supposed to, his men wouldn’t have to die. Unless something changed, the trolls would axe them into pieces too.

Much to Flint’s relief, the majority of the civilians were already within the inner defenses. He and the builders hadn’t yet completed the stronghold’s construction, but it was their best bet. He watched as the garrison’s surviving forces guided them within the iron-reinforced walls. The metal would protect them from fae-magic, but he doubted it would hold long against the Wyld’s physically oriented forces.

A shriek from the outer streets demanded his attention. The supply runner returned just then with a crate of crossbow bolts. Flint reloaded and fired at the war beast dragging a young woman by her arm, and his projectile found a crack in the bark-like armor. The creature roared, releasing its dinner; Flint held his breath as the woman got to her feet and ran. Unfortunately, she didn’t get far. One of the trolls swiped her off the ground, its giant hand covering most of her torso. Flint released another bolt at the creature’s head but failed to pierce the thick hide. The monster bit down on her head, ripping it off with a lazy tug.

“We’re all going to die!” Captain Ironheart yelled, reaching a pitch much higher than the boy’s. His copper hair stuck to his sweat-soaked face, projecting a visage unlike his usual picked and prune form. “Why is this happening?” He collapsed, even though he’d done nothing but drink tea and read a damn book while the builders worked. Captain Ironheart had gotten off his ass only after the first ear-piercing screams filled the settlement. “Father said there was no way the Wyld would attack this place. We’re a week behind the defensive line, in the Divine Smith’s name!”

“I don’t think heaven’s going to help a lot now, Captain,” Flint told him, watching the overrun streets below. He raised his crossbow, tracking the horned fae floating through the market. Golden light surrounded its hands and feet, marking the creature as one of the enemy’s leading forces. “The garrison is overwhelmed, and the inner walls aren’t going to hold for long.” He pointed at the war beasts pulling a monstrous battering ram through the collapsed gates in the distance. “We still have time before that thing gets here. Give us orders and tell us what we need to do.”

“I don’t know,” the captain answered, undoing his sword belt and throwing it off the walls. He stood up and followed Flint’s crossbow toward its target. “I’m going to surrender to that…thing. The fae like shiny things—”

“Look at the horns and hoofed feet. That’s a puck, sir.” Flint tried to maintain a calm tone for his men, but the captain’s nonsense was getting to him. “They don’t care how many gold mines your father controls. It would kill rather than listen to a man in uniform.”

“I’m taking it off then!” The captain’s pitch hurt his ears. He understood it was the younger man’s first term, but it was no excuse for the defeatist attitude. Flint looked at his fellow builders’ faces. They’d appeared hopeful earlier, but Captain Ironheart’s tirade had turned their expressions miserable and terrified. They all watched in silence as the captain removed his helmet and his gauntlets. He turned to the uniformed men closest to him. “Open the gates, you imbecile. I’m going to go reason with that horned monster. It’s less likely to kill us if we put down our weapons and—”

“That attitude isn’t going to do any of us much good,” Flint said, raising his voice. He handed the boy his crossbow, rushing toward Captain Ironheart. It wasn’t much use to someone untrained and lacking the [Marksmanship] skill stone, but it didn’t matter. He tried to pull the captain aside, planning on calming him down, but the man shook him off. “I shouldn’t be here either, you know?

“My second term ended three months ago. However, you decided to embezzle and bought shit iron. The section we spent six months building collapsed, and I’m still here because of you.” Flint lowered his volume, trying not to humiliate the man. It took every ounce of self-control in him not to insult Captain Ironheart or throw him off the wall. “You’re the reason most of us are still here, and the stronghold isn’t yet complete. Will you calm yourself down, sir, and take command? Or do I have to do it for you?”

“You can’t talk to me that way! I’m your commanding officer.” The quivering, overweight man turned to one of the builders standing next to him. “Open the gate now! That’s an order.”

Flint drove a clenched fist into Captain Ironheart’s stomach. Years of working as a builder for the army had hardened his shoulders, chest, and arms. Ten years with the [Building] skill stone in his [Power Node] had done wonders too. He didn’t know what the spoiled lordling had received from his family after coming of age, but he was sure the captain didn’t have many physical reinforcements. The punch folded Captain Ironheart in half, driving all the air out of his lungs. Flint ignored the spittle that sprayed on his face and followed up with a blow to the jaw.

None of the men said anything when their commanding officer fell to the ground unconscious.

“Alright,” Flint sighed, turning to his fellow builders. “If anyone asks, you guys tried to stop me. Understood?” A couple of them flashed little smiles at him. The rest just nodded. Flint turned to the boy working the supply role. “Please tell me you at least have [Builder’s Brawn].” The boy nodded. “Good. Drag the pompous asshole into the stronghold. I don’t care if he suffers bumps and bruises along the way, but try not to get him killed.”

“What would you like us to do, sir?” one of the builders asked after the boy left. “We don’t stand a chance against those…” The man looked at the approaching battering ram hesitantly, “…Things.”

“We don’t,” Flint replied, exhaling loudly. His racing heart and aching temples made it difficult to concentrate, but he reminded himself that he was the closest thing they had left to a commanding officer. “I may have served for quite a while, but I’m not a sergeant. Assholes like Ironheart’s father won’t ever let a Woodson gain rank.”

Flint tried using a light-hearted tone but failed to cut the tension. None of the men smiled. “You’re right, Tailor. We don’t stand a chance against the fae and their war beasts. The trolls make our chances nil.” Flint turned to the wall and pointed to the horizon. “My [Marksmanship] skill stone gave me [Keen Eye] not long ago. I don’t know if you can see it, but let me reassure you—I can see flags among the trees. Reinforcements are on the way. We don’t need to win. Just buy time.”

A whisper spread through the huddled builders. The few garrison forces still standing on inner walls glanced at them. None of them complained, though. The Builder’s Division ranked at the bottom among the Iron Army’s forces, but people knew better than to mess with them. Besides, unlike Flint, most of them didn’t have the [Marksmanship] skill stone. They’d do little more than waste arrows and bolts.

“I’m not going to give you orders,” Flint continued, picking up his crossbow and loading it. “Instead, I’ll ask for volunteers. If you have [Reinforce], you can help me hold the wall until the civilians are all inside the stronghold.” He aimed at a war beast, ramming its tree-branch-like antlers at the wall below them and fired. [Keen Eye] and [Steady Hand] helped him hit a crack in the bark armor once again. The beast roared and fell back. “Those of you with [Combat Skill] stones can help the garrison with their defense too. The rest can join the civilians or supply us with potions and bolts.”

Flint turned to the builders once again as he reloaded his weapon. Keeping his hands busy kept them from shaking; showing fear wouldn’t do well for morale. “I won’t think any less of you if you decide to leave,” Flint said. “I have no family, wife, or children. Most of you, on the other hand, do. Some of them might be here in the stronghold and terrified. If you can’t stomach combat, join them and give them strength. Anyone who dares to belittle you for it will have to answer to me. We’re not soldiers. Fighting isn’t our job. This is about survival. You can choose which you prefer: fight or flight.”

Only a third of the builders retreated. It frustrated Flint that most of them were veterans without familial ties. He didn’t say anything. It would set a bad example for the men. Even though he didn’t have rank, they listened to him due to his head for construction and ten years of service.

Once fewer people were crowding the walls, Flint whistled. His shoulders relaxed when the familiar clicking of claws on stone reached his ears. A white and brown sheepdog sprinted up the stairs, clutching a waterskin between her jaws. She stopped in front of Flint and dropped the container at his feet.

“Thanks, girl,” he said, falling to his knees and kissing her between the eyes. She licked at his face before sitting down and looking up at him unexpectantly. “Run to the stronghold when I tell you. Alright?” She barked, her tongue hanging out and tail wagging. Her smile and affection helped Flint pull himself together. “Good girl.” He smiled, scratching her head and returning his attention to the attacking army. The cool beverage soothed his calm, racing thoughts. “We’re going to get through this.”

Flint had lied to his fellow builders. He did have a family. The difference was that none of them were human. Most of the older builders joked that Flint couldn’t make it last with women because he preferred the company of dogs. Others believed that his last name, Woodson, turned most of them away. After all, no one wanted to risk mixing with dirty blood.

Personally, Flint wasn’t sure which of them he believed. Both were true to some extent. Most women got tired of him having a deeper bond with canines than with them. Flint couldn’t help it. Dogs understood him better than any human did. He didn’t have to tell Maya what made him uncomfortable; she followed his cues and understood. A scholar he once courted said it was a birth defect in his brain, claiming Flint had trouble understanding the emotions of people around him. He considered her hypothesis bullshit.

After repelling several approaching war beasts, Flint spotted the puck again. Its curling horns were now covered in blood. The high-fae had stopped floating, though, giving him hope. It stood holding a luminescent spherical crystal in its hand. Flint’s jaw clenched as he identified the object. It was a skill stone. He couldn’t tell what type of stone it was from atop the wall, but it didn’t matter. Even the most common kinds were invaluable. He had signed up for two terms with the Iron Army just so he could get them to fill his [Power] and [Control] nodes. However, now that the puck’s magic was inactive, Flint had a chance of hurting it. His iron-tipped bolts would interfere with fae spells, of course, but he feared alerting his target and facing its wrath.

Flint willed [Focused Shot] to activate and felt the bolt vibrate against the crossbow’s wood. Usually, he ensured no one was watching before using the ability. If any of the soldiers discovered that he had unlocked an offensive power, they’d report it to their superior officers. Then Flint would find himself reassigned to one of the more combat-focused divisions. He didn’t care for them and was content in his current position. It wasn’t the time to keep secrets, though—survival was on the line. So, he steadied himself against the ramparts and fired.

Time slowed as Flint activated the skill. If he placed [Marksmanship] in the [Power Node], he could’ve unlocked a more damaging ability. The [Mind Node] would’ve added magical effects to his shots. Flint wasn’t sure how it would interact with the [Aura Node], but barely anyone understood the mysterious fourth slot. Unfortunately, he got no offensive bonuses from the [Control Node]. [Focused Shot] sapped his stamina to increase his projectile’s flight speed ever so slightly. Its primary bonus was the ability to slow his perception of time for the split second before he released the crossbow bolt. It gave him a much-needed moment to aim for the puck’s eye before he fired.

The crossbow bolt flew true and struck the puck’s right eye. Golden light shimmered around the creature for a heartbeat before fading. Flint held his breath as the beast fell on its bottom, clutching its face, and roared. “Iron be damned,” he whispered as his target got back onto its feet and pulled the projectile out. The wound smoked as iron reacted to fae blood. It was blind in one eye now but not dead.

When the puck raised its giant hairy hands, the wind picked up. He pointed them at Flint, and a powerful blast of air struck the wall where he stood. The force knocked him off-balance, and he staggered backward, almost going over the side. Maya bit down on his coat and pulled, reacting much faster than any unempowered human. Flint grabbed the platform’s edge just in time and hung on for dear life. The fall wouldn’t kill him, but it would probably break one or more of his limbs, and he couldn’t afford to suffer such damage in the current situation. He released his crossbow, cursing himself for not slinging it across his shoulder, and climbed to safety.

Before he could reorient himself, a powerful force struck the wall where he stood, and the stairs behind him collapsed. “I don’t think we’re going to make it, Maya,” he said, clutching the service sword at his waist. He had never used it in combat before due to how horrid he was with the weapon, but life was determined to rob him of options.

2

The sword felt alien in Flint’s hands. It annoyed him that the uniform demanded he wear one when on duty. A blunt weapon would have been better suited. The [Building] skill often required the use of hammers. The Iron Army had handed him a blade, but Flint didn’t receive enough training to use it due to his position. If he had picked [Swordsmanship] as the advance payment for his second term with the army, he could’ve made some headway with the weapon. However, since he preferred the safety of the walls he built, Flint had picked [Marksmanship] instead. As a result, he left the sword locked within its sheath and held it upside down, using the iron pommel and hilt as a club.

A pair of curling horns peeked over the walls. It was another puck. Before the creature could scramble onto the platform where they stood, Flint dashed forward and bashed its skull with the improvised club. He was sure if it were the other end striking his foe, the blade would get tangled in the horns. Pucks had thick skulls anyway.

After ten years of poor maintenance, his sword’s blade was blunt and rusted. Flint had taken excellent care of the hilt and pommel to meet uniform standards, though—the polished iron didn’t have any impurities getting in the way. It didn’t just bruise the hairless skin on the puck’s face but also left dark-brown patches resembling burnt skin. Flint was relieved when his opponent bellowed and let go, falling into the chaos outside the wall. He peeked over his shoulder. The civilians were almost safe. They wouldn’t have to keep the Wyld forces out for long.

Another concussive force struck the wall, shaking it. Flint looked around. The builders still on the platform were either helping the garrison repel puck infiltrators or had their hands pressed to the stone platform under their feet. Since Flint didn’t have any immediate opponents, he focused on addressing the cracks spreading across the walls.

“Builders!” He yelled, getting his colleagues’ attention. “Mass Reinforcement in five!” They fell to the ground in unison. “Four!” Everyone with the ability dropped whatever they had in their hands. “Three!” Over a half-dozen pairs of hands pressed themselves to the stone platform together, gathering around the cracks. “Two!” Orange lights lit up all around Flint. The glow came from his chest and flowed down his hands, gathering around his palms. “One! [Reinforce]!”

A wave of exhaustion washed over Flint as fluorescent orange left him and spread over the stone. Not all shades were the same, but they mingled, finding cracks in the walls and filling them in. When the walls shook again, the damage didn’t spread. The gaps around Flint glowed brighter than most. His fellow builders had varying combat experience. [Reinforce] only had situational use outside of battle; Flint occasionally utilized it when readjusting supports or scaffolding, but that was it.

The walls shook again. However, no new cracks formed.

The soldier standing closest to Flint lay on the ground with a dark green arrow sticking out of his eye. It didn’t have proper fletching and appeared to be made of coiling vines. Flint recognized it as the classic Wyldarrow spell. It was a common spell among the forest-attuned fae mages.

“Damn it!” he swore. It probably meant the attacking force had multiple mages among them. Flint prayed it was another puck and not one of the winged fae. He snatched the fallen man’s crossbow and focused on the approaching forces. Flint’s eyes scanned the rooftops and streets for any other magic users between shots. None revealed themselves to him. He switched his attention to the war beasts pulling the battering ram. He got them to pause or falter, but none of them fell. The siege machine was almost at the gate. Once it started its work, [Reinforce] would fail within minutes.

Flint attempted [Focused Shot] once again, but Maya brushed up against his leg, barking. He followed her eyes to find an entire platoon of armored pucks climbing over the wall twenty feet away from him. The soldiers around the area were dead or dying, while the builders busied themselves throwing bricks at the attacking forces.

“Builders, retreat!” Flint called, directing his bolts at the pucks now charging at him. There were too many of them. For every single beast he felled, two climbed over the ramparts.

Maya jumped into action. She charged at the pair trying to flank Flint. The sheepdog fell short at the last moment, avoiding the rune-covered axe swing, and darted under the stone blade. She chomped down on the puck’s hairy goat leg. It bellowed and swung the axe’s handle at Maya. Flint predicted the creature’s intentions and fired his crossbow from the hip, [Keen Eye] and [Steady Hand], helping ensure that his bolt didn’t miss. It struck the puck’s unprotected armpit, interrupting the attack.

“Back.” Maya obeyed Flint’s command, releasing the puck and retreating to his side. With time in short supply, he used the opportunity to charge the uninjured puck instead of reloading. Unfortunately, the creature foresaw Flint’s plan of knocking it off the platform and sidestepped. Since he had overcommitted, Flint almost ended up staggering off the platform.

Maya came to his rescue. She bit down on Flint’s coat and pulled him back. Before he could recover, the puck swung an axe at his face. [Reinforce] coated the crossbow in a fluorescent orange glow, and Flint caught the enemy weapon’s haft on the barrel. The puck didn’t just have martial superiority, but it also physically outclassed most humans. A powerful push sent him staggering back.

If not for [Reinforce], Flint was sure the rune-covered axe would’ve broken the wood, and he would’ve suffered a lot worse than a bruised shoulder. Instead, the axe-head’s underside caught on the crossbow and ripped it out of the puck’s hands. The bewildered half-man, half-goat froze, probably surprised by the turn of events.

More pucks were coming over the side of the wall, so Flint claimed the axe and swung it at his opponent. The disarmed puck retreated backward, eyes wide. Flint took advantage of the opportunity. The puck went a step too far and ended up stumbling off the walls, landing with a sickening crunch on the safe side. If it survived the fall, one of the puck soldiers would certainly end it.

Before Flint knew it, another puck was on him. First, it tried to smash his skull, using a monstrous club. Then the beast grabbed the stolen axe with a free hand and had little trouble wrestling it out of Flint’s hold. Before he knew it, the oversized puck came at him, swinging an oversized weapon in each hand. Blocking the humongous specimen’s attacks didn’t feel like an option—[Builder’s Brawn] and [Reinforce] wouldn’t help him now.

Even though all his instincts said otherwise, Flint tucked his chin and sprinted into the giant beast. It had a dagger hanging from his hip, and he marked the weapon as his target. “Stay back!” He yelled, hoping Maya would obey. The lumbering puck overcommitted just as Flint had with his charge. He used the opportunity to rip the dagger off the creature’s person and slip through its legs simultaneously.

A quick slash to a goat-like ankle drew a thundering bellow out of the puck. Its unbalanced form continued its forward movement. When Flint turned around, his stomach dropped. Maya stood in the puck’s path. She had obeyed his instructions after all. However, now she was in danger. Flint dashed in behind the puck and thrust the dagger up into its side. The surprised sound that escaped the creature sounded more like a kid bleating than an overgrown, powerful fae. It too staggered over the platform’s edge on the side of the wall still controlled by the Iron Army.

Flint turned his attention toward the second puck. The fur around its abdomen and left leg had darkened and dripped red. It looked at Flint hesitantly with alarmingly human eyes. From afar, they looked bestial enough for him to fire lethal shots, but now that he saw the face up close, he wasn’t so sure. It—he—looked too much like the novice builder.

What surprised Flint the most was the fear he felt radiating off his opponent. He occasionally got similar sensations from Maya and other dogs but had never detected anything of the kind from humans. Flint shook his head. It wasn’t the time to let such thoughts cloud his judgment.

The puck didn’t let Flint’s hesitation go to waste. The fae soldier bellowed and hobbled toward him, raising the stone axe. When he swung downward, Flint had the good sense to swivel to the side. He threw the crossbow at the puck and then followed up by thrusting his sword’s pommel at the horn-tipped human face. The puck’s martial abilities proved better tuned than Flint’s—a barehanded swipe knocked the weapon away. Then he received a brutal axe handle to the face.

The blow dazed Flint. The sound of weapons clashing and civilians screaming dulled not long after. Every scent cut off abruptly too. When he felt hot liquid drip over his lips, Flint knew the blow had broken his nose. He still managed to reorient himself and threw his limp body at the puck’s waist. Maya joined his desperate attack, closing her jaws around an ankle. Flint wrapped his arms around the puck’s core, and together they managed to knock him off-balance.

Another pained cry left the puck, and a painful jolt shook Flint’s bones. After the day’s pain and stress, he was ready to pass out. However, Maya’s pained yelp helped him gain a firm grip on consciousness. When Flint regained his composure, he found blood covering more than just his lips and chin. His hands and chest were painted red, too—his opponent’s curling horns had ripped open his vest and shirt. As he sat up, Flint realized they had fallen off the wall, and the puck had cushioned his fall.

A wet tongue licked his face, forcing him to look up. Maya stood next to him, her snout covered in blood. She whined, holding her left front paw off the ground. Flint scrambled off the puck and toward her. She shied away when he reached for the injured limb. Maya’s big brown eyes looked past him at the wall above.

Pucks had flooded the platform above, and the inner wall’s gates shook fifteen feet to their left. The orange lights flickered, suggesting that the effects of [Reinforce] had most probably already faded or were about to. Flint estimated the defenses would hold for another five minutes. While testing his leg strength, he scanned the surroundings. Half of his fellow builders were already running toward the stronghold. He failed to spot the rest. Flint prayed they were already safe within the iron-reinforced wall and hadn’t fallen to puck weapons.

“Let’s go, Maya,” he said, struggling to his feet. Flint’s pelvis and left side ached, but he ignored the pain. It was likely something had broken from the fall—it was sheer luck that his legs were intact—but he couldn’t afford to focus on anything but reaching the stronghold. “Run, girl!”

A loud thud sounded behind Flint. Dust and tiny stone fragments rained down on him. Instead of running, Maya spun around to face the trembling stone structure. Flint had to lean down and tug on her collar to get her to move. Much to his annoyance, she didn’t speed off but stuck to his side. His chances of survival were low, and he feared dragging the beautiful sheepdog down with him. It was likely all the other local canines he fed were stuck outside the inner walls and dead to the war beasts. He didn’t want Maya to die too.

Every step sent shooting pains through Flint’s hips and up into his ribs. Yells and screams sounded behind him, followed by more thuds. He knew the cries belonged to the brave souls staying behind to facilitate their retreat. Flint thanked them for their sacrifice without turning around and continued forwards. The smell of blood and burning flesh made him want to turn back, though. There were soldiers, builders, and civilians that still needed his help. But there was nothing more Flint could do, so he didn’t dare look back.

It wasn’t just the loud thuds that sounded behind him. Flint heard horns, roars, and explosions. He wasn’t aware the Wyld armies employed bombs, but he didn’t have the time to think about it. The stronghold’s gates were half-closed. It wasn’t unexpected. The defenses had failed, and the garrison’s remaining soldiers were following their orders. Flint needed to speed up if he wanted to survive.

Maya stopped several feet ahead of him and looked back at Flint. She whined loudly, and Flint sensed her concern. It was a much stronger sensation compared to what he had felt from the puck. He still wasn’t sure what had happened earlier. If he survived, Flint planned on investigating the strange occurrence. Perhaps an Iron scholar specializing in pucks could help him get to the bottom of it.

When the walls creaked, and the ground shook, Flint knew the gate had collapsed. He pushed the pain down and sped up his hobbling. Getting Maya to safety wasn’t his only reason for survival anymore. Flint had other goals in life, after all. He spotted burning buildings out of the corner of his eye and spotted large skill stones lying on the ground. Despite his two empty skill nodes and the possible riches, Flint didn’t let himself get distracted.

Breathing got harder with every step. Tightness now accompanied the pain, but Flint still clung to hope. The stronghold’s gates were still open.

“Why?” He wondered out loud and regretted it straight away. Flint’s chest burned, and breathing suddenly got several times harder. It still concerned him that the stronghold’s gates were still open. All the civilians were inside.

Please tell me the fae didn’t get through.

Flint had heard that certain high-fae races had size-altering spells. If any of them got past through the defenses, the siege was over. He or his builders could do nothing against them before leveling the [Building] skill stone to the eighth rank. Then he noticed the soldiers leaning against their spears and smiling. Their eyes were staring past him at the walls, and fallen gate—Flint expected fear and panic on seeing the puck warriors, not glee.

If Flint slowed or stopped, he was sure that starting up again would prove impossible. When a couple of civilians followed the guards outside, he relented. He looked back and froze. The Wyld’s forces weren’t chasing him. In fact, none of the opposing army’s living troops had made it off the walls or crossed the gate’s thresholds. Instead, they were charging into the outer city.

Another boom shook the air, and a fiery blue mushroom rose toward the sky. Flint laughed, falling onto his bottom. It hurt, of course, but relief helped him ignore the pain—if only for just a moment. It was an alchemist’s bomb, but the in-construction outpost had no one with a high enough [Alchemy] skill stone to create such a pretty blue flame. As Flint let go of his concerns and relaxed, he heard the horns, horses, and iron weapons. The Iron Army’s reinforcements had arrived. He had bluffed earlier to give the builders hope, but the fib had turned into truth. They were going to survive.

A pair of solid hands slipped under Flint’s armpits and pulled him upright. “They’re here, sir,” said the novice builder boy. “Let’s get you inside. The healer will want to see about all that blood.”

3

Flint was surprised when he woke up in the healer’s tent. Ordinary, low-level troops like him never got to enjoy such luxuries. Even captains needed to get lucky or have connections to get treatment. Yet Flint found himself lying on a real mattress with fresh bandages wrapped around his left arm and torso. If that weren’t enough, someone had cleaned him and changed his trousers. Did they not know he was a Woodson?

“Easy,” a matronly woman said from across the tent as he sat up. She wore the Medical Division’s colors. “You might feel like a hundred gold coins right now, but those ribs are still on the mend.”

“Why aren’t I in the normal tents, ma’am?” Flint asked, running a finger over the bandages. He didn’t feel any soreness.

“No one tells me anything.” She shrugged, returning her attention to her current patient. It was Captain Ironheart. He had his eyes closed and head leaning to the side. The healer woman smacked his shoulder. “Stop pretending!” The man’s eyes shot open, but he didn’t look at Flint. “It’s bad enough you’ve convinced the brass that you’re hurt. Eat your dinner and stop wasting my time.”

Flint looked around the tent, spotting two free cots. Much to his surprise, the novice builder boy sat on a chair next to him, fast asleep. Drool dripped from the corner of his lip, and his right hand clutched a rag.

“The boy hasn’t left your side for a moment,” the healer woman said. “He helped me undress you and held you down while I used my spells.” She raised her voice. “Wake up, boy!”

The healer woman’s volume and pitch made him jump out of his chair. The boy landed on his bottom and bumped his skull on the nearby table. He looked around alarmed, hand jumping to the dagger on his belt. He sat on the ground for a moment, rubbing his head and scowling at the healer woman before his gray eyes met Flint’s.

“You’re awake, sir!” The boy exclaimed, hopping onto his feet. He rushed to a nearby table, filled a cup with water, and ran it back to Flint.

“What’s your name, boy?” Flint asked.

“Edgar, sir, but people just call me Ed.”

“Where’s my dog, Ed?”

“I had him tie her up outside,” the healer woman answered in Ed’s stead. “No matter how much I threatened the mutt, she wouldn’t keep out of the tent.”

“Thank the heavens.” Flint sighed, his shoulders relaxing. He took the cup from Ed and drained it. Flint expected his throat to be dryer. Every time he had woken up in an apothecary’s tent, it felt like he hadn’t had a drink in days. He guessed Ed and the healer had kept him hydrated while he was unconscious. “More specifically, thank you for taking care of me and Maya, Ed.”

“Not at all, sir—”

“It’s Flint. I’m neither knighted nor a sergeant. Don’t go calling me sir. Captain Ironheart and people like him will make our lives miserable for it.”

“It’s the least I could do, Flint,” Ed said, his cheeks reddening. “Lieutenant Colonel Smith asked me to bring you over as soon as you woke up.”

“That’s right!” The healer woman exclaimed. “He’s the one who asked me to fix you up. You must’ve done something great, son.”

“Maybe he wants to make an example of you for assaulting a superior officer, Woodson,” Captain Ironheart said.

“Get your head out of your ass, boy.” The healer woman forced a spoonful of gruel into his mouth. It was likely she ranked far below Captain Ironheart. However, the rarity of healing skill stones and compatible users made her invaluable. She could get away with a lot more than him. The healer turned her attention to Ed. “Why don’t you take our hero-lad to Smith. The sooner I empty my tent, the sooner I can go help in the other ones.”

“My uniform didn’t survive, did it, Ed?” Flint asked.

Ed shook his head. “We couldn’t find your pack, so Tailor and I went through the dead builders’ belongings and scrounged up whatever we could find.”

Warmth blossomed in Flint’s heart, making him smile from ear to ear as he looked at the untidy bundle. He recalled feeling the sensation only when swarmed by the local strays. They’d jump all over him, trying to lick his face, making his heart melt. Builders got hurt or died all the time. He didn’t expect the men—most of whom he’d met after getting transferred to the site a year ago—to make such a gesture.

There were no socks or underwear, of course, but he found everything else he needed. The shirt and trousers were a touch baggy, but the latter comfortably fit into the leather boots. Someone had stitched new sleeves onto an old, patched leather coat too. It sat comfortably on his shoulders and was a better fit than he expected. Flint thanked the healer woman one last time before leaving the tent.

Maya barked and whined at him as soon as he stepped into the open. Her ears lay flat on her head, and her tail moved so quickly it was almost a blur. Despite the healer’s orders to not push himself, Flint sprinted to meet her. The sheepdog jumped into his arms, and the sudden discomfort in his hips forced him onto his knees. She lathered his face with kisses, and he held her tightly. If not for Maya’s unwillingness to leave him, Flint would’ve given in to the pain and not hobbled toward the stronghold. Puck arrows or falling rubble would’ve claimed his life—she was the reason he was among the living and not the dead. He pecked her on the head and untied her from the post.

Tents had filled the untouched green fields within the inner walls. The still-incomplete stronghold was supposed to function as barracks and a command center, while the surrounding open space served as training grounds. Now, members from all divisions of the Iron Army sat together exchanging tales, drinking, and mourning their fallen brethren. Flint clenched his jaw, thinking about how many builders died because of the watch’s late reaction and Captain Ironheart’s incompetence. Too many of them had gotten stuck outside the walls, and more had fallen during his panic.

Flint blamed himself, too, for not taking charge and ordering a retreat. He decided then that he wasn’t going to sign up for another term. Even though a third skill stone for his [Mind Node] or [Aura Node] would prove invaluable, he didn’t have another five to six years of service in him.

It took a quarter of an hour to weave through the tents and enter the stronghold. Flint recognized many of the soldiers within. They smiled and nodded at him, and he returned the gesture. Poorly drawn signs hung along the corridors, and Ed followed the ones pointing toward command. When they arrived at the marked door, Flint’s heart rate picked up. It had been years since he interacted with someone high in the chain of command. He wasn’t sure of the rankings but was sure a lieutenant colonel stood high above captain.

Ed knocked.

“Come in,” a stern voice called from within. Ed opened the door, and Flint walked in. His heartbeat quickened when he found himself facing not one but three men with more badges on their lapel than he cared to count. The door closed behind him. While Ed stayed outside, Maya followed him in. She sat at his feet, and her soothing presence urged Flint to breathe deeply and calm down.

A stone pillar hummed behind the three men. The runes covering it glowed with every color of the rainbow, brightening and fading every couple of seconds. It was a Heartstone. There were a couple of others in the outpost. It was why the Iron Army had insisted on building an encampment and stronghold in the area. Hammercrest was less than a day’s ride away, yet they had picked the stony hills for their base.

The cylindrical monoliths were vital for humans to interact with their nodes, absorb skill stones, and track their growth. Flint believed the Iron Army knew more about the stones than they claimed, which is why they held them in high regard. The brass had insisted that the Building Division construct the stronghold around the biggest one in the area. It was taller and thicker than the others and extended through the structure’s mess hall and command center.

One of the senior officers picked a box off the table, marched over to Flint, and pressed it into his hands. “The men who found this could’ve sold it and made enough money to buy a farm in the Iron Land’s outskirts,” he said. “However, they decided it belongs to you. It’s rare for a Woodson to earn such respect.”

“Thank you, sir,” Flint said, opening the box. His breath caught in his throat as he took in its contents. It was a skill stone. “I’m not sure what to say or why—”

“You kept things together, Flint,” the only seated officer of the three said. He was much older than the others and the best decorated. Flint wasn’t sure which of them was Smith but considered it rude to ask. “We heard that you used your [Architecture] passive ability to improve the inner walls and the stronghold’s design.” The man smiled. “We usually put men in chains for assaulting superior officers, but one of your men just told me that if not for you, the defenses would’ve fallen. You set out to buy time, and that’s precisely what you did.” He glanced at the man who had handed Flint the box. “Lieutenant Colonel Smith is especially pleased with your construction work. He has a better eye for such things than me. Your performance on the wall has shown us you’re capable of much more.”

“Even the surviving archers off the wall sang your praises,” said Colonel Smith. “Thanks to you, the builders hung around and continued to use [Reinforce] while the war beasts battered the walls.” He looked back at the others. “A couple of them claim you used a skill and forced the puck shield-caster to retreat.”

“And all of this after your second term officially ended,” added the older man. “We need more men like you—” He chuckled. “I can see you eyeing the Heartstone, Flint. Why don’t you go ahead and use it?”

“Thank you, sirs,” Flint said, rushing to the stone. Maya stayed at his heel, tail wagging. The officers smiled and clicked at her, but she didn’t leave Flint’s side. He pressed his hands to the pillar and closed his eyes.

A sucking feeling drew Flint’s mind into a sea of nothingness. Only a familiar compass-like shape floated in the endless white. It was a circular tablet with five smaller circles within. In north’s position sat [Power]. The stone floating within was a dark red and carried a brick-wall-like pattern. [Control] floated where east should’ve been. The residing stone looked like an eye with an arrow embossed across the iris. Meanwhile, ethereal letters hovered next to the empty holes. [Mind] marked south, and [Aura] occupied the west.

The circle in the middle sat empty. It was the [Class Node]. Flint had no expectations of ever filling it. He doubted whether all of the three men sitting behind him had one. From what Flint had heard, a class was a necessity to become a general. He didn’t know why anyone with a class would bother joining the army, though. The [Life Quests], which granted the near-mythical stones, rarely showed for people like him. As a result, Flint had never bothered to study up on them.

Flint focused on the [Power Node].

[Building V]

[Builder’s Brawn IV] > [Builder’s Brawn V]

[Shape III]

[Reinforce III] > [Reinforce IV]

[Architecture II]

[Bind II]

Two of his [Building] abilities had gained rank. When he joined the Iron Army twelve years ago, he had received the skill stone at the tender age of sixteen. After finishing his first term, Flint had considered going his own way and living the fabled life of a Builder Mage by moving the stone into the [Mind Node]. He was twenty-two and didn’t know the first thing about what he wanted from life or about using magic. As a result, he had accepted the [Marksmanship] as a signing bonus for his second term and left it as is.

Now, after leveling the [Building] skill stone to the fifth rank, he didn’t want to remove it from the [Power Node] and lose all his progress.

Next, he checked the [Control Node]’s progress.

[Marksmanship III] > [Marksmanship IV]

[Steady Hand IV]

[Keen Eye II]

[Focused Shot I]

New Ability available.

Flint’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t expected [Marksmanship] to level up. It had taken him eight years to get [Building] to the fifth rank. Meanwhile, [Marksmanship] had reached rank four in six. He excitedly checked the available options.

[Trigger Finger]

Triggered weapons become second nature to you. They’re less likely to fail in your hands, and reloading becomes a breeze thanks to added muscle memory.

While your abilities with triggered weapons are improved, skills with all other ranged weapons regress.

[Take Cover]

Cover is vital to all ranged fighters. [Take Cover] will reinforce your hiding space and reduce wind and rain effects on your projectiles.

Flint picked [Trigger Finger] without hesitation. He didn’t want to waste energy during battle on an active ability like [Take Cover]. [Reinforce] could strengthen whatever cover he used, and the skill was sufficient to overcome the elements.

Finally, Flint turned his attention to the new skill stone. The Heartstone revealed the crystal abilities.

[Canine Friend]

It finally made sense why the builders and officers were willing to give up the stone. It was too specialized a skill for most to use. [Beast Friend] was in high demand, but it required a particular affinity for beastmasters to limit themselves to one genus of beasts. More importantly, a stone of its kind could only fit in one of two nodes: [Mind] or [Aura]. Putting a stone with the word “friend” in it would be wasted in the [Power Node] and more so in the [Control Node].

Flint believed it was a perfect fit for him. He wasn’t sure how [Canine Friend] would interact with the [Mind Node]. Most beastmasters showed off skills or spells which empowered their animal companions. A few of them broke into the summoner archetype by calling forth beasts from the nether too. Flint wasn’t sure how any of that worked, though. [Reinforce] and [Focused Shot] already tired him out plenty, and he didn’t want more tools that sapped him during battle.

The [Aura Node] was known to primarily grant passive effects which benefited the user and the people around them. It felt like the perfect fit for Flint. If it gave him an aura that slowed his four-legged friends’ aging, he’d be over the moon. He socketed the stone into the node and held his breath as the Heartstone absorbed it and offered him corresponding abilities.

[Pack Mind]

Communication is essential in any pack. [Canine Friend] forms an empathic bond between all members of the pack. Canines can already sense their master’s information. As the leader of the pack, you must learn what they’re feeling too.

The ability felt redundant to Flint. He and Maya already had excellent understanding without an ability’s help. It was a part of who he was as a person. The second option felt like a better pick.

[Aura of Entangling Fur]

When in your vicinity, your canine friends’ fur strengthens and thickens. They suffer less damage from blunt force. Slashing and piercing attacks are deterred, too, due to the reinforced layers.

It didn’t give him any direct benefits or tell him the aura’s range. However, it would reduce Maya’s chances of getting hurt. Flint locked in his choice and released the Heartstone. Despite the superior officers in front of him, Flint turned to Maya first. Her coat had a new sheen to it, and she looked bulkier than before.

“We’d like to talk if you’re done, Flint,” the senior-most officer said. “It’s time for us to discuss your future.”

4

“What do you want from life, Flint?” The seated officer asked.

“I don’t know, sir,” Flint answered honestly. “I’d very much like to find a remote town or village far from the war. Perhaps find work as a builder or a guard, make a home, and live my life in peace.”

The smiles disappeared from the officers’ faces as they glanced at one another. Flint guessed that’s not the answer they wanted. He didn’t see any point in lying, though. He had joined the army to fill his nodes and gain the skills to make a living and had no intentions of making a career within the Iron Legions.

“What about your family?” The seated officer asked. “You do realize that by leaving the Iron Army, you’ll cost them security, schooling for children, and subsidized medical costs.”

“Not to forget your pension,” the other said. “If you serve one more term with us, you won’t just fill your final node but also get the army pension once you’re fifty or after the war ends—whichever comes first.”

“I don’t have any family, sirs,” Flint answered. “I grew up in the Red City, mostly on the streets.”

“The orphanages didn’t take you in?” The seated officer furrowed his brow, leaning forward in his chair.

“After the war started, sir, they lost funding while the number of orphans coming to the city increased. There weren’t always enough beds or food.”

“How did you survive?” The man asked, narrowing his eyes. Confessing to thieving over a decade later probably wouldn’t get him into trouble, but the information was best left untouched.

“Dogs, sir.” Flint smiled. His fingers wandered to Maya’s head. It was an almost involuntary reaction. Then he noticed the mixture of confusion and disgust on the officers’ faces and burst into laughter. “I should’ve phrased that better. I just get along with dogs better than people. The strays and I looked out for one another, and they ensured I was always fed.”

“Of course. You’re a Woodson.” It was the third officer. He hadn’t spoken until now, and the man’s deep voice took Flint by surprise. His tone didn’t carry the usual loathing that accompanied the title. The officer stood tall and skinny with a straight back. “Do you know which side of your family was fae?”

“No, sirs,” Flint replied, shaking his head. “The orphanage said a fae caravan was passing through the city when the war started. They were leaving after the Iron Lords ordered their exile. Apparently, I looked too human and didn’t have any gifts to survive the Wyldlands.”

“What did the orphanage’s doctor say?”

“They believe I might be a second-generation Woodson. The traces of fae in my blood aren’t enough for me to have pure parents.”

“Well, that explains why you’ve not grown in rank after twelve years of service.” The others glared at the man, but he ignored them. He walked to the wall and opened the trunk sitting against it.

Flint’s eyes widened as he saw its contents. It housed rows of labeled skill stones. Their shine and colors suggested that not all of them were as common as [Building] or [Marksmanship]. Flint’s eyes widened as he didn’t just spot [First Aid] but the magical skill of [Vivomancy] too. “What if we let you pick whatever stone you want? Would that make you want to commit to the Iron Army in the long term?”

“That’s a generous offer,” the seated officer said. “You could pick a second-tier skill stone, Flint. When you finish your term, you’ll be set for life.”

“I appreciate the offer, sirs.” Flint bowed his head, giving the men the respect they were due. “Will this incentive come with a rank, though?”

“No,” the seated officer answered. He looked at the others, and they shared a collective sigh. “It goes without saying that you deserve a promotion, Flint. We know it, and you know it—” Lieutenant Colonel Smith paused, the officer who had handed Flint [Canine Friend]. “Most of us anyway. As much as we’d like you to sign up for another term, I’d rather not lie. While you were asleep, we spoke to the builders and guards who vouched for you. It’s sad, but more than half changed their mind once they found out you’re a Woodson.”

“That’s the thing, sirs,” Flint said. “I’ve spent twelve years serving under fools like Captain Ironheart. We all know I can do a much better job than him. I know my last name is a deal-breaker, but we both know I can get the job done.”

“That might be true, but we’re at war with the fae, son,” said the formerly silent man. He didn’t look old enough to be in a commanding position. “We can’t expect the men to respect and follow someone with the enemy’s blood running through their veins. You’d need a hell of a family name to pull that off.” It was then Flint noticed the man’s pointed ears. He was a Woodson too. He didn’t sympathize with the man, though. The revelation lit a fire inside Flint’s chest. People like him didn’t go by Woodson. They called themselves Greenfinger or a variation of the kind: they were the same as Flint but wealthy and connected. “However, we’re willing to let you have your pick of skill stones. There are a few tier-threes in the chest too.”

“I’ll sweeten the deal by approving a captain’s salary for your final term, too,” said the seated officer. “Think about it. A tier-three skill stone and captain’s salary, without the responsibility.” He sighed. “My son will receive appropriate punishment for his behavior as well. He’s a shame to the Ironheart name, and I thank you for putting him in his place.”

Flint wasn’t sure how to respond. The offer was tempting. If he survived his final term, a tier-three skill stone and six years of captain salary would let him live in luxury for his remaining days—luxurious by his standards. However, after his recent experiences, Flint wasn’t sure.

“I’m curious, sirs. Why me? The Iron Army has more experienced builders. There are a couple of sixth and seventh-rank builders in my company alone. Why would you make a Woodson such an offer?”

The seated officer—Lord Ironheart, Flint assumed—unfurled the map sitting on his desk. It showed the entire Iron Disk and the surrounding emptiness of space. It marked the several land and water bridges connecting to neighboring disks too, but they cut off at the map’s edges. It also highlighted a couple of tunnels inland, but most of them were in Wyld territories. Flint had seen maps of the kind before, but none of them was as well annotated as the one before him. The officer ran a finger down a recently drawn line.

“That’s our defensive line,” he said before outlining the felt behind it, around the green expanse beyond. “These are the Wyld’s forces.” Then he pointed to a spot far behind the defensive line in the Iron Lands. “This is us. We don’t know how they did it, but the Wyld bastards managed to get past the defensive line and deep into our lands without us finding out. Until our scholars and scouts can figure out their methods, all major strongholds are in danger. The Iron Council has decided to build an elite force within the Building Division. They would travel between the outposts, securing our defenses and focusing on valuable, at-risk settlements.”

Flint’s attention drifted to a big “X” marked on the map. It sat far from the defensive line, and the cursive letters next to it read “Lea’s Slumber.” The notes scribbled into the map showed forces pulling away from there. The officer continued to speak while Flint studied the surrounding scribbles.

“We’re reinforcing the mines and farms, while all non-essential towns, villages, and settlements are being evacuated—”

“What about this one, sir?” Flint asked, pointing at Lea’s Slumber. “It’s not my place to question you, of course, but why does it say ‘In God’s Hands’?”

“I didn’t realize you could read,” said the Greenfinger officer, looking away.

“We tried evacuating them, but they refused.” The seated officer ran a finger along the mountains surrounding Lea’s Slumber. He stopped at a spot just outside the village. “Lea’s Slumber was near the front lines during the last war. The mountains around there are impossible to cross except through this pass. We don’t mark it on the maps anymore, but there’s an old stronghold there.” He tapped the narrow valley connecting Lea’s Slumber to the Verdant Hills. “It’s the only way in and out.”

“The locals believe they’re untouchable,” the Greenfinger officer said. “They left us no choice but to pull back.”

Flint wasn’t sure why his eyes kept drifting to the location. It sat in the middle of nowhere and had no protection. However, when Flint thought about getting away from the war and starting afresh away from everything, he dreamed of a remote location like Lea’s Slumber. Just as the thought crossed his mind, the Heartstone chimed.

The officers’ eyes widened as they looked at one another. None of them spoke. The Greenfinger rushed to the monolith and pressed his hands to it. He pulled away five seconds later, shaking his head. The other two also checked, but they pulled away from the Heartstone with disappointed expressions on their face. Then all eyes were on Flint. He didn’t need to be told. Flint marched up to the Heartstone and interacted with the ancient arcane machine once again.

[Life Quest: Saving the Savior]

Not every heroic deed is destined for the stories. Some jobs are long and arduous and don’t come with enough excitement to become legends. Everyone talks about heroes, but rarely about the souls that help get them there.

-Reawaken the Sleeping Fort

-Protect the village of Lea’s Slumber

-Give the Champion of Equilibrium time to grow

[Objective 1]

Commune with the Heartstone in the Slumbering Fort’s outer defenses.

Reward: A class stone relevant to your skills.

A smile spread across Flint’s lips as he stepped away from the Heartstone. The ancient structure had recognized his desire and used it to fill one of the Iron Disk’s needs. He couldn’t believe his luck. He turned around to face the officers with his heart racing. The seated man smiled at him, but the Greenfinger appeared furious.

“Does your quest have anything to do with the Iron Army?” Lieutenant Colonel Smith asked. Flint shook his head, struggling to find words. He felt Maya’s tail swishing against his leg, and he struggled not to lavish her with attention. “It’s got something to do with Lea’s Slumber, doesn’t it?”

“Yes—” Flint’s voice cracked, forcing him to clear his throat. “Yes, sir. I’ve been tasked with rebuilding the fort outside Lea’s Slumber.” He thought it best to leave out the remaining information. Flint wasn’t sure how the men would react. Given the ambient aura, he believed mention of a “Champion” would raise too many questions. The Iron Army would want to get involved with the quest and probably try to claim the rewards too. “It requires me to rebuild the fort and the defenses alone. I’m not sure how the quest will work, but it sounds like a noble direction.”

“What kind of life quest is that?” The Greenfinger snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re not going to take it, are you? Lea’s Slumber is in the middle of nowhere and has no defenses. You might get a class and a couple of stones out of it, but when the Wyld armies get there, you’ll die. It’s a suicide quest.”

They stood in silence as Flint took his words in. The man wasn’t wrong. His chances of survival were low. However, his life would be in just as much danger if he stayed with the Iron Army. They didn’t intend to keep him safe and far away from the battles but hopping between them. Flint knew that it was a noble cause. However, if he got stuck under another incompetent, silver-spoon-raised oaf, he’d go crazy. It would end in one of two ways. A moronic order would get him killed, or he’d end up in military prison for punching another commanding officer in the stomach. A captain’s salary didn’t count for much if he had to spend another six years working under someone with less experience and training than him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Flint said. “Suicide or not, I intend to see the life quest through. If it leads to my death, so be it. I’d rather die on my own terms and not some spoiled—” He caught himself mid-sentence and looked the seated officer in the eye. “I apologize for stepping out of line, Lord Ironheart, but my decision is final. My time with the Iron Army has come to an end.” Flint bowed. He didn’t need to, but it felt appropriate to leave the matter respectfully and on good terms. “Thank you for the offer and training you’ve given me over the last twelve years. The Iron Army molded me into the man I am today and helped me realize what I want from life. Unfortunately, it involves leaving the military life behind and finding my own way.”

Lord Ironheart smiled and nodded at Flint, but the other two didn’t make any such gesture. He marched past the men, around their desk, and exited the office. Maya stuck close to his side. He reported to the administration center to deal with the exit paperwork and collect his accumulated pay. It took a while since several men and women were also exiting the service. Double their numbers—mostly civilian survivors—were signing up for the Iron Army. The process took a couple of hours, but he was glad to finally exit the stronghold.

“Things are going to change, Maya.” Flint knelt next to her, looking over the sea of tents. “I don’t know whether it’s going to be for better or worse.” She met his eyes, her tongue hanging out and tail wagging. “Let’s find out together, shall we?”

A wave of contentment and happiness radiated off Maya as she hopped up, placing her front paws on his shoulder. She licked at his face before looking in the same direction as him. Flint laughed. He couldn’t think of a better companion for the coming adventure.

5

Flint had always been a man of frugal means. Unlike the other builders, he didn’t frequent brothels or pubs. As a result, his salary had accumulated over the years, and Flint found himself with a tidy sum. He had never carried more than five gold in his pockets. Having fifty all of a sudden was jarring.

No one had heard anything from Lea’s Slumber in months, and Flint didn’t know what to expect on arrival. Thanks to the builders, he was set for a jacket and boots. He needed more underwear, changes of clothes, and weapons, though. Unfortunately, the Wyld’s forces had destroyed all the stores and workshops in the settlement.

So, Flint was forced to seek out the neighboring crafting town, Hammercrest. He bid the builders goodbye first and thanked them for putting in a good word. To avoid any resentment, he didn’t tell them about the life quest. Ed and Tailor appeared heartbroken over Flint’s departure. He wished there was more he could do to improve their lives in the Iron Army, but whatever pull he had was now gone.

The trip to Hammercrest took most of the day, and he ended up spending the night in a barn with Maya. He didn’t ask the owner and got through the night without anyone finding out. Maya woke him up when the farm awoke at the crack of dawn, and they fled into the town.

A seamstress sorted Flint out with three sets of all his clothing needs. Her leatherworker neighbor tried to sell him a new pair of boots and jacket, but Flint chose to hold onto his builder friends’ gifts as a souvenir. He did pick up a set of alchemist-made treatment oils, though. The man promised they’d strengthen the leather and make the articles waterproof. A wide-brimmed hat caught his eye on the way out, so he purchased it too. Altogether, he spent four gold in the two shops. Flint gritted his teeth when he realized that the alchemical concoctions constituted more than half the bill. An alchemist would’ve given him a better price.

Another ten gold coins got him a light, quick-loading crossbow at a Tinkerer’s workshop. He initially baulked at the price, but the unique tinkered creation won him over. It featured two barrels and sets of limbs stacked on top of another. Both had room for an individual bolt. The merchant took him to the shooting range behind the store and demonstrated the device.

First, the merchant demonstrated how to load both barrels. Then he fired them individually; the bolts barely hit the target. “I’m not a marksman,” the man told him, grinning sheepishly. Then he reloaded the weapon again and squeezed the triggers simultaneously. They both hit the target with an inch gap between the bolts. “Unfortunately, the locals are more comfortable with bows over crossbows. I’ve sold a couple to your army’s veterans, and both have been singing the weapon’s praises.”

“Can I have a go?” Flint asked, trying his hardest to conceal his excitement.

“Of course!” The merchant exclaimed, passing the crossbow to Flint and talking him through the loading process. The dual crank under the stock made it a swift and smooth process.

The first bolt Flint fired went wide, almost missing the target altogether. After years of using the bulky and outdated crossbows the Iron Army utilized, he had overcompensated for recoil and not used the best stance. When he fired the second time, [Steady Hand] and [Keen Eye] helped him hit his mark, dead center. Flint reloaded and fired again. The bolts struck the target on either side of the first with an inch between them.

“It’s good and has decent power,” Flint said. “I’m not sure I can justify the price, though.”

“Tell you what, I’ll sweeten the deal. This is my last in the stock, and I need to pay the tinker back to bring in fresh product. You buy the crossbow today, and I’ll throw in a quiver of bolts and two boxes of iron arrowheads at half the price.” The merchant took the weapon off Flint and led him back into the store. “With people jumping on the hand-cannon bandwagon, I’m not moving as much product as I’d like. So, I’m willing to part with everything but the crossbow at cost. What do you say, young man?”

“You’ve got a deal,” Flint said, shaking the man’s hand.

Out of curiosity, Flint investigated the firearms but was alarmed by the accompanying price tags. Bullets, gunpowder, and the maintenance kit together were an ongoing cost that he couldn’t afford to pay. After some thought, he invested in a high-quality club. If Lea’s Slumber didn’t have a fletcher, he’d need to be economical with his bolts.

Members of the Building Division didn’t receive riding training. The brass preferred loading them into the backs of carts with tools and building materials. Fortunately, Flint had ample experience driving them too. So, he used a large chunk of his savings to purchase a mule and a small cart. He put together a building kit using the essential tools and nails, turning the fifty gold into five. Even though he hadn’t spent money on many luxuries besides high-quality jerky, fresh fruits, and an enchanted waterskin, Flint couldn’t help but feel guilty.

The veteran builders often advised the newcomers to invest their gold or save them with the Iron Bank. He had spent all of it instead. Then Flint reminded himself what Greenfinger had said. The quest was most likely suicide.

“What’s the point in saving if I don’t get to enjoy my riches?” Flint asked Maya. She tilted her head to the side. One ear pointed to the sky, the other flopping over. “Aren’t I right, love?”

He knew the thoughts were too complex for her but laughed when she barked in response.

Flint started his journey early in the morning, two days after waking up in the healer’s tent. Maya hopped into the driver’s seat next to him, and they exited Hammercrest together. The refugees from the Iron Army’s unnamed outpost were just starting to filter in, and Flint was glad not to get caught in the incoming crowds.

The war made no sense to him. It had started close to three decades ago when he was still a baby and had become a regular part of life on the disk. The Iron Lords blamed the fae for attacking budding towns and villages without provocation. Flint wondered whether the enemy said the same. It didn’t make sense. The two sides had been at peace and co-existed for centuries. Something must’ve gone horribly wrong to make the fae break the treaties and recreate the Wyld armies.

The orphanage’s matrons said that war was good for only one thing: creating widows and orphans. Only the rich and powerful benefited from them. As he watched groups of parentless children walk toward Hammercrest, Flint accepted their words as truth. Much like him, the poor souls would grow up scrambling for food and survival. They probably had countless questions for their family, which would forever go unanswered.

After his close encounter with the puck, Flint wished to know more about his heritage. He had questions regarding which of his parents had been born of the fae and what kind their ancestors were. All fae had some sort of natural gifts. Pucks—or satyrs, as the scholars called them—enjoyed great agility and climbing skills. They had hardy bodies, sharp minds, and natural talent with musical instruments. Changelings changed faces like clothes. Pixies were winged tricksters and occasionally used size-changing spells. No fae he had heard of shared empathic connections with dogs or any of the Wyld races.

As the rocky Craggletooth Hills turned into the expansive Verdant Plains, Flint’s ponderings turned from his heritage to the life quest. He was still having trouble accepting that the Heartstone had picked him of all people. He had the necessary skills to restore a crumbling fort and defenses, but there were more experienced builders than Flint in his former company. He didn’t know much about fighting besides standing atop a wall and shooting down attackers either. Then there was the matter of protecting a village and a “Champion.” He didn’t know where to start with them.

Flint prayed—he wasn’t sure who to anymore—that the Heartstone would guide him step by step. The first objective felt easy enough, but he doubted all future ones would be as straightforward. Yet, he was determined to find out. The Heartstone had given him a gift, and he wasn’t willing to squander it.

Wild fields and hills replaced farmland as the cart ventured further from Hammercrest. Soon rocks and cracks filled the road, turning the ride bumpy. Eventually, Maya got sick of staying in the cart. Flint trusted her not to do anything stupid and set her free. She occasionally ran along the road. Sometimes she disappeared into the tall grass and returned with dead rabbits. They ate well on those nights, saving the cheese and jerky for leaner times. Whenever Flint felt his connection to Maya stretch thin, he whistled. He didn’t expect Maya to return every time, but she’d get back in range for them to maintain communication.

As the days turned into a week, Flint realized he felt truly happy for the first time in several years. He didn’t care that he was no longer making any money and only had five gold to his name. Flint did miss the companionship of his builder-brothers—some of them at least. No matter how much he believed that dogs were better company than people, he had spent twelve and a half years surrounded by them. That was close to half his lifetime. On the bright side, he didn’t have to worry about rank or bureaucracy anymore.

After dusk, Flint would find campsites along the road or pull up by a clearing. Maya would fetch sticks for him to start a fire while he fed and watered the mule. Flint hadn’t wasted money on a tent but had a bedroll. He’d sleep while Maya kept watch. Then she’d nap sporadically through most of the day between meals and play, resting her head on his lap.

Things took a turn after the two-week mark. The wind picked up as the cart crested a hill, and Maya’s ears pricked up. Flint sensed her concern as the sheepdog turned her snout to the sky, twitching her nose. Maya tried to leap off the cart, but Flint maintained a tight hold on her collar. [Keen Eye] enhanced his vision as he studied the Verdant Plains’ endless sea of tall grass. At first, Flint saw nothing.

The fae and their Wyld armies weren’t the only threats on the Iron Disk. Flint had heard tales starring all manners of beasts. Traveling merchants and veterans claimed to have spotted flying serpents that breathed fire, chimeric creatures with petrifying gazes, and man-eating felines that traveled through shadows. Flint loaded his new crossbow and kept it at the ready. He had hoped to get more practice with the weapon before using it in a battle, but concerns regarding broken bolts had deterred him.

A distant growl got Maya on her feet. Her back stiffened as she faced a distant mound. Her ears turned to face two shadowed blobs. The shapes lazily waded through the grass downhill before disappearing into the green sea. Maya didn’t calm down, though, making Flint worry that the figures were coming toward them. It annoyed him that [Keen Eye] hadn’t helped him discern any details.

Before starting their journey, Flint had studied a cartographer’s map and committed their path to memory—he didn’t have enough money left to purchase one. One of the builders had slipped an old compass into the coat pocket, though—or it belonged to the previous owner who was no longer among the living. He didn’t need it since the roads had official and hand-drawn directions running along them, and he had followed them thus far. They hadn’t encountered any signs after the last fork, but Flint estimated they were less than a day from their destination.

After a moment’s thought, Flint tied Maya to the cart so she wouldn’t jump off. She was a good girl most of the time and followed his instructions. However, she had an intense chase and protect drive. He didn’t trust her not to attack a giant monster if it posed a threat to him. Then he fed the mule an apple and pushed it to speed up for the first time since the start of their journey.

The animal appeared surprised at first when he snapped the reins but picked up the pace. Flint had let the mule trot so far, but his urging made it break into a cantor. When he leaned forward and softly kicked the beast’s bottom, it accelerated to a gallop. Maya’s quiet bark made it speed up further. He scratched her between the ears as a “thank you,” but she didn’t lean into his hand as usual.

Flint had detected a dull blankness from the mule for most of the journey. The feeling didn’t compare to what he sensed from Maya and was weaker than the waves he felt off the puck too. When he gave the mule a treat or scratched its head after a long day’s ride, it would radiate contentment. Now, the creature expressed annoyance. However, as the wind turned into a gale, yellow radiated from the mule, suggesting growing fear. Flint scanned the tall grass with [Keen Eye] once again but saw nothing. So, he put his trust in Maya and the beast.

The clouds and distant mist cleared for the first time in a week as noon approached and the mountains finally came into view. The Gator Teeth range ran all along the disk’s eastern edge, separating it from the void’s emptiness. The road ahead continued toward the mountains before splitting. Two ran along the Verdant Plains just before the Gator Teeth started, while the third disappeared into a narrow pass.

“I was starting to think we took a wrong turn somewhere,” Flint said, rubbing Maya’s ear. She sat up on the driver’s seat next to him, taking in the growing green foothills, the dense emerald forests populating the incline, and the white peaks reaching for the sky. “Let’s just hope the sun keeps the beasties away.”

Maya relaxed once the sunlight reached the cart. Her alert ears sagged, and her tail started wagging again. The mule appeared to calm down too. Flint still kept his eyes on their surroundings. The wind’s direction had shifted once again. He maintained a relaxed tone, so Maya didn’t sense his concern. If their pursuers were intelligent, they’d alter their angle of approach to avoid detection. Flint hoped he was wrong and spurred the mule on toward their destination.

6

The sun had long disappeared behind the Gator Teeth range by the time Flint reached his destination. The mule got skittish once the sky darkened, but it got them to the Sleeping Fort’s crumbling walls. Flint found a grassy knoll just outside, shadowed by boulders and rubble. He parked the cart and attached a feedbag to the mule. To err on the side of caution, he left the beast tied to the vehicle. He didn’t know what to expect and thought it best to have an escape plan.

Flint prided himself on never making the same mistake twice—even though he often did. So, he secured the crossbow’s strap across his shoulders before looking for a hole in the outer wall. There were plenty of collapses and openings, but they were all too high up. Eventually, Flint found himself with no choice but to go over. He had plenty of experience climbing, but he had the safety of harnesses and scaffoldings most of the time.

Once at the top, he finally got a good look at what he had to work with. The last war against the fae had ended long before the Iron Lords existed. History had never interested Flint, but he knew the Iron Council hadn’t come into power until a couple of centuries ago. They abolished the monarchy and unified the human lands under the Iron Army. According to the stories, the disk had been at peace until the last war started almost three decades ago. Even though the Sleeping Fort long outdated the Iron Council, the design resembled the outpost Flint had not long left behind.

The fort in question stood almost a mile above him at the top of the slope. Meanwhile, the outer wall stood reasonably close to the path’s narrow mouth. An opposing army would still need to enter the bottleneck and march several hundred feet before reaching the gates. Around halfway up to the outer walls, the slope widened ever so slightly before narrowing once again. The mountains on either side of the slope featured smooth, near-vertical cliffs. Even winged fae would have trouble clearing them without several breaks.

A narrow road ran between the outer and inner wall, weaving between old stone buildings. Flint guessed the structures had served as stables, warehouses, and homes for workers and soldiers. They acted as a perfect deterrent for vehicles and mounted troops. War beasts and siege engines would have to struggle against the incline and countless twists and turns. It made sense why the villagers thought they were safe. Flint had seen the Wyld armies, though. They were a determined lot. If they wanted to invade Lea’s Slumber, they’d have little trouble doing so.

Unlike the ruins, the road appeared well maintained. Flint had passed an abandoned campground at the pass’s entrance. He guessed it was an Iron Army encampment. They must’ve used the road to trade with the villagers. It took him a moment of scanning to spot the gate. It almost blended into the walls on the outside.

However, it stood out as clear as day within. The old builders were brilliant. The road leading to the gate ended twenty feet from the walls. Attackers would need someone on the inside to figure out the weak point.

Makeshift barricades and rubble sat piled up against the gate’s inside. Flint guessed the residents of Lea’s Slumber had cut themselves off from the outside world after the Iron Army left. The village was either self-sufficient or had chosen to forsake several luxuries.

Once the darkness of night settled in, [Keen Eye]’s effects weakened. Flint hoped the ability would grant him night vision at higher ranks. He guessed that the cliffs’ shadows would leave him blind in the darkness without his enhanced vision, so he was thankful to see anything at all. On the bright side, the outer walls’ Heartstone revealed itself to him. The glowing runes that covered its surface lit a square slightly uphill.

Flint scrambled down the wall into the Sleeping Fort’s grounds and started his quiet trek toward the life quest’s first objective. Maya joined him soon after. He guessed she had found a hole in the wall. It would need to be one of the first holes he patched.

When Flint first read the life quest, his primary concern had been procuring materials. The Iron Army’s Building Division relied on masons and carpenters to get them the necessary materials. He occasionally used the [Shape] and [Bind] abilities to mold pieces to fit but never relied on them. Flint didn’t see a lot of wood, but thanks to the rubble and topography, stones were in abundance. It was the perfect opportunity for him to level the abilities. He intended to start at the bottom, strengthen the wall, then slowly work his way toward the fort, building defenses along the way. That’s how the military engineers and architects planned their builds.

Strongholds were visible from miles away. Walls, on the other hand, weren’t. It made sense to Flint. If the outer defenses were set, he could focus on the inner layers in reasonable security. He wondered whether life would be easier with an apprentice. Now that he had a life quest, Flint would soon enjoy a windfall of skill stones. Picking up a helping hand would’ve made his life much easier. Perhaps he’d find people willing to work with him in Lea’s Slumber. He’d been tasked with their defense after all. Ordinary people held classers in high regard due to their rarity and the rewards that accompanied life quests. Greed would win over pride sooner or later.

Maya remained alert as they snuck toward the glow in the distance. At first, Flint worried she detected predators in the area. He didn’t sense any fear through their empathic link, though, just caution. They wove their way through old, broken buildings and found themselves at the Heartstone a quarter-hour later. Instead of rushing to the stone monolith and claiming his class, Flint did a circuit of the area first to ensure nothing would jump him while he communed with the arcane machine.

“Keep watch,” he told Maya, handing her a bite of jerky. She snapped it up and sat down, looking at him expectantly. “That’s it for now. We’ll set up camp and have dinner once I’m done.”

Her tail stopped wagging, but she maintained eye contact. Flint chuckled to himself and scratched her behind the ear before pressing his hands to the ten-foot-tall pillar. The runes brightened around him before his mind got sucked into the endless white again.

For the first time, the node compass wasn’t the only existence in the emptiness. A pedestal stood in front of it, carrying an old book. Flint discovered that he wasn’t a disembodied consciousness either, but the Heartstone projected his body. As he approached the pedestal, Flint realized the book was as wide as his torso and twice as long. He doubted [Builder’s Brawn V] was enough to lift it. Words formed on the open page as soon as he was within touching distance.

[Saving the Savior]

You have completed the first objective.

To complete the tasks, trials, and challenges that follow, you’ll need a class.

Pick wisely.

The ink seeped into the aged yellow paper, and bodies of text replaced it. They spread to the opposite page, too, creating six separate sections. Flint focused on the one to his left first.

[Purist Classes]

Purist Classes focus on improving on the gifts from a single skill stone by upgrading it two tiers or evolving the stone if it’s near its peak. The class stone provides additional abilities to assist the skill stone and helps it interact with the residents of other nodes as well. Over time, the class and the relevant skill stone will gain tiers and evolve to improve the class’s potential further.

[City Planner: Building focus]

Building is just the first step. City Planners focus on the bigger picture. Infrastructure is just as crucial as defenses. Their constructs last longer, are harder to rip down and project specialized auras based on the building type. Their infrastructure helps residents live longer, healthier lives and flourish. A City Planner also hastens the building, repair, and maintenance of their constructs, making them last for aeons.

[Sharpshooter: Marksmanship focus]

End your foes before they know you exist. Sharpshooters specialize in hiding, moving between cover, and, most importantly, taking out targets without getting noticed. They know how to reduce ammunition use, counter the elements, and make the most of singular shots. They’re not to be underestimated at close range either, as aiming becomes less of an issue, and they can pull off devastating attacks with little preparation.

[Packmaster: Canine Friend focus]

A pack is nothing without its leader. Packmaster doesn’t stop at commanding man’s best friends but nurtures their strengths, covers their weaknesses, and imbues them with terrifying power. Their auras, passive and active abilities, extend their pack’s lives, heals their wounds, and grants them supernatural strength.

Grand patterns surrounded each class option, but none of them gave Flint more information regarding their capabilities. “What good are such big pages when you don’t fill them out properly?”

No one answered. Instead, the artwork expanded, covering all the empty spaces. Flint sighed and moved onto the page to his right.

[Hybrid Classes]

Hybrid Classes combine the gifts of two class stones to cover a wider base. They upgrade two skill stones by one tier or help them evolve if they’re at their peak. The class stone provides additional abilities to assist the skill stone and helps them interact with the residents of other nodes too. Over time, the relevant class and skill stone will gain tiers and evolve the class’s potential.

[Hybrid Classes] sounded like the better long-term option straight away. They provided fewer starting bonuses but would affect two skill stones over one. Flint guessed [Purist Classes] had other hidden perks to help them flourish, but the lack of information had him leaning away from them.

[Huntsman: Canine Friend and Marksmanship focus]

The most successful hunters rarely head out alone. Huntsmen take advantage of their animal companions’ keener senses to track prey and limit their movement. They don’t just empower their bodies and weapons, but their companions too. It takes a lifetime to raise a good hunting party and caring for them, so they gain healing and life-extending abilities too.

[Kennel Master: Building and Canine Friend focus]

Assassins and infiltrators fear dogs more than armed guards. Kennel Masters don’t just focus on rearing their dogs but also fortify the grounds they protect to create a more secure home. They extend lives, heal wounds, and grant strength either through skills or constructs. Most only affect dogs. Some stretch to everyone they protect.

[Artillerist: Building and Marksmanship focus]

Sometimes the best defense is a potent offense. Artillerists don’t limit themselves to ranged weapons but also expand into the construction and use of siege weaponry. They benefit from highly destructive skills that can devastate armies while keeping safe behind mighty walls.

After reading through his options, Flint was confident he didn’t want any of the [Purist Classes]. The first two were too specialized. [Packmaster] fit his personality, but [Huntsman] and [Kennel Master] did much of the same without limiting him too much.

[Artillerist] appeared perfect for Flint’s needs. It would enable the construction of excellent offensive and defensive structures. It fits the life quest’s needs. However, he had worries concerning material procurement. Flint had assembled siege weapons and installed them before but never crafted or used them.

After some thought, he removed [Huntsman] from his pool of choices. Even though it sounded terrific, Flint didn’t foresee himself going into the wild a whole lot. He would most likely need to head out on occasion to hunt for meat, but the quest required him to restore the fort and protect Lea’s Slumber. Picking a class that focused on heading into the wilderness felt pointless.

Only [Kennel Master] had enough to compete with [Artillerist]. The hybrid class made [Packmaster] redundant. It did all the same things but focused on construction too. The class would limit his movement and tie him to the kennel and whatever else he built, but given the life quest, he didn’t mind the lack of mobility. It was what Flint wanted from life after all: to find a quiet settlement far from the war, build a home, and settle down. He had left out the bit about wanting female companionship while talking to the officers, but that was a part of his desires too. Flint very much wanted to get married and have little Flints and Flintettes running around.

Before he could make his decision, a firm tug broke his communion. Flint staggered away from the Heartstone to find Maya pulling on his coat with all her strength. He heard panicked braying before Maya’s whines. It was the mule—the beast of burden sounded terrified. Flint scrambled up a wall to get a better look, but given the cart’s hiding place, he failed to see anything. There was nothing in the distance, not even a light.

The mule’s cries cut off suddenly. Flint stood still, waiting for something to fill the silence, but he heard nothing. Maya didn’t make a sound below him either. Something had just killed the creature. Even though Flint hadn’t formed a proper bond with the beast, a pit formed in his stomach. After all, he had spent two weeks with the mule, fed it, and brushed it. Flint had spent ages trying to think of a name for it but hadn’t come up with one yet. A part of him felt guilty for still referring to the beast as “it” when he knew the gender.

Flint sighed, scanning the walls. He kept his ears pricked up for the sounds of tools moving around or wood breaking.

Was it a predator or something worse?

“Something worse,” Flint whispered to himself when three shadows appeared atop the outer wall. He guessed they were the shapes he had spotted earlier in the day. One of them was humanoid, while the other two stood on all fours. The two-legged shape’s head moved from side to side before they leapt into the fort’s grounds together. He followed suit and joined Maya.

“Get ready, girl.” He didn’t know how much she sensed through the empathic bond, but he projected the image he had just observed. “I think this will end violently.”

7

Worried that the enemy would hear the soft continuous growl emanating from within Maya’s throat, Flint fell onto his knees and faced her. He pressed a finger to his lips and then held her snout closed. The intelligent sheepdog understood the gesture and shut up.

Flint wasn’t sure how the enemy’s vision compared to theirs. He assumed they had better senses and fighting instincts than him. Friendly people—or creatures—wouldn’t frighten and then kill his mule, so he was sure they meant him harm. If the four-legged creatures had strong senses of smell, hiding wouldn’t do Flint and Maya much good—they’d get sniffed out sooner or later. After some thought, Flint realized they didn’t have many other options. Their best bet was to hide somewhere with a good view and ambush their pursuers.

The biggest question on Flint’s mind was who they were dealing with. It annoyed him that the life quest didn’t give him more information. Knowing who or what he was protecting Lea’s Slumber from would go a long way. Identifying the Champion of Equilibrium and their purpose would help too.

The pursuer—assuming it was the same figure he had spotted earlier in the day—had a human-like figure. Being of the same race didn’t guarantee friendship, unfortunately. They could be a scouting member of a bandit troupe, a maniacal murderer, or an assassin set upon him by the Greenfinger. It wouldn’t surprise him if the skinny man decided that a Woodson didn’t deserve a life quest and hired someone to snuff him out. Several fae races shared the same shape as humans too. It could be a scout investigating him or Lea’s Slumber. Either way, a fight felt inevitable.

Flint checked the crossbow. He had loaded it earlier in the day and then forgotten about it. Ideally, once the danger passed, Flint should’ve unloaded the barrels to extend the limbs’ and strings’ lives. However, tinker-made weapons had a reputation of lasting longer and performing well under stress, so he hoped the weapon hadn’t suffered any lasting damage.

The crossbows issued to him by the Building Division required brute strength for reloading. He didn’t mind since [Builder’s Brawn] gave him additional power when building or working with mechanical devices—he wasn’t sure where the ability started or stopped. However, reloading had always been a slow affair. The new crank had worked much smoother than expected. He prayed the weapon wouldn’t fail him and looked around for cover that wouldn’t limit his vision.

The beasts accompanying his pursuer had ascended and descended the walls with ease. A hiding spot without a roof just wouldn’t do. Flint needed someplace covered so nothing would get at them from above. Maya tugged him toward a hole in the wall to their left. It was at ground level and large enough for her to walk in comfortably. The entrance to the building had collapsed, but the side facing the Heartstone was full of holes. So, he followed her lead and crawled into the ancient structure.

The Heartstone’s rainbow lights filtered into the building through the many openings pockmarking its walls. The colors brightened and darkened periodically, creating an almost otherworldly environment. Flint could never figure out how some people like the captains spent hours at a time around the stone monoliths. Though pretty, the colors eventually got unnerving. Even though the Heartstones were valuable to humankind, he got the feeling they weren’t a natural element of the disks. No one had ever successfully answered his question: where did they come from, and who had placed them on the earth?

Idle thoughts left Flint as he heard a sniffing sound nearby. Maya’s ears stiffened, and her tail hung limp. He sensed a mixture of fear and concern from her. She wasn’t terrified but understood that they were in danger. At the same time, their connection broadcast a more complex emotion concerning him. It took a moment for Flint to realize that it was trust. Maya believed that he’d keep her safe, and he wholeheartedly intended to.

The openings in the wall let Flint watch the outside from reasonable safety. He held the crossbow close to his chest, ready to unload the bolts into anything that looked at him the wrong way. A human and beastlike silhouette appeared just outside the Heartstone’s light. The former was shorter than him and skinny. The androgynous figure made it impossible for him to determine gender. Even though the accompanying beast stood on all fours, the top of its head came up to the figure’s shoulder. The creature’s thick, patchy fur made it impossible to determine a genus. He scanned their surroundings, more concerned about finding the second creature.

Bits of stone and dust rained down on Flint. When he realized Maya was watching the ceiling, he noticed the second beast was above them. It made an odd yapping sound, and the other two figures turned to face them. Flint retreated from the wall straight away and aimed his crossbow at it, looking down the sights. He hoped they hadn’t detected his movement or were still confused about their scents until Maya started growling.

A shadow appeared outside the hole they had used to enter the building, so he pulled the top barrel’s trigger. The bolt disappeared into the opening, and a loud dog-like yelp sounded outside. Loud cursing and growls followed.

A monstrous force akin to a war beast struck the damaged wall, and cracks spread from every hole. More dust and stone rained down on them from the ceiling, and a chunk bigger than Flint’s head crashed to the floor a foot to his right. Maya jerked toward the nearest exit, but he grabbed her collar and held her in place. He was sure she’d get mauled as soon as she stepped outside. A quick scan brought his eyes to a hole in the ceiling. It led to the floor above.

Maya tried to wriggle free when he picked her up and yelped when he tossed her up through the hole. The building shook again as an unknown force struck it. More pieces of the ceiling fell all around Flint as he took a running start and jumped. He just about managed to grab onto a rough edge. Maya tugged on his sleeve as he tried to pull himself up. Despite her good intentions, the act only made his climbing efforts more challenging. Several thundering heartbeats passed before he got his knees up and made it onto the higher level.

The building shook again as he tried to get back on his feet, almost throwing him off balance. Flint righted himself just as the floor started crumbling and rushed away from the hole. He ran to another opening in the wall and got a better look outside. The smaller beast was once again nowhere to be seen. The humanoid figure stood in the Heartstone’s light, showing off pale white skin. Her black hair almost blended into the darkness like her long flowing dress. Even though the surrounding ruins blocked the wind, she seemed to flutter.

When the Heartstone’s lights brightened, Flint got a better look at her beautiful face and its sharp features. The pointed ears curved while tapering, confirming his suspicion that she was fae. Her eyes darted up to meet Flint’s, and then the woman moved faster than any human. She raised her short bow and fired an arrow. It shot through the opening and whizzed past his right ear. Flint pointed his crossbow while she reached for her quiver and pulled the second trigger. The fired bolt scraped her bow arm, making her scream.

Flint got a glimpse of smoke rising from the wound before the building shook again. The wall crumbled in its entirety first, and the floor followed. It was too late for him to use [Reinforce], so he scooped up Maya and jumped. Just as Flint landed, a dust cloud spreading from the collapsing building surrounded him, and while trying to cover his mouth, he let go of his beloved sheepdog. Maya ran straight at the fae woman and lunged.

Five or six years had passed since Flint got Maya. While traveling between build sites, his company had stopped at a hamlet for the night. A couple of the builders had gotten into a drunken fight and destroyed a shepherd’s cottage wall. Flint had felt guilty for not separating the hot-blooded teenagers and volunteered to fix the damage. The man and his wife had fawned at the speed and quality of Flint’s work and offered to pay him. When he refused, the man had insisted he at least take a pup from his prized dog’s first litter. Flint had picked Maya. She had grown from no bigger than his hand to a medium-large dog since then, weighing at least half as much as the fae-woman.

Screams and growls filled the night as Flint desperately felt around for Maya in the dust cloud. He heard more animal cries nearby. One sounded like an odd child-like yapping. The other was a deep chuffing. The latter got closer, and thundering footsteps accompanied it. When Flint’s eyes adjusted, he found himself face to face with a horse-sized bear with long, curly hair. It stood on its hind legs, swiping at the air blindingly, barely a foot from him. Flint dropped to his knees, rolling away toward Maya’s sounds.

He didn’t dare turn away from the bear, and used the crossbow’s crank to pull back both strings. Then he reloaded them, aimed at the bear’s head, and fired both bolts at once. The creature roared as the projectiles found its face. It fell backward, swiping blindly. Flint took the opportunity to crawl toward the feminine screams and Maya’s throaty growls.

The dust had just started to settle when he found the wrestling pair. Somehow, they had moved to the other side of the little square, more than a dozen feet from where they had started. Flint watched in horror as the fae woman gave up on trying to pry Maya’s jaw off her left forearm and reached for a dagger with her right.

“Back!” He yelled. Unfortunately, it was one of those instances where Maya took too long to obey. She tugged on the bloody arm once more before letting go. The fae woman used the window to draw a black rune-covered dagger and slashed, getting Maya along her left side. She yelped, falling back.

Flint saw red and charged at the woman. The bear roared behind him, and he heard claws scraping the stone as it chased him, but he didn’t change course. A swift kick to the wrist got the woman to release her weapon. He tried stomping her head next. Unfortunately, she rolled out of the way. He got her right upper arm instead.

The wind screamed with her. It swirled around them, whipping around Flint’s coat and ripping his hat off his head. The force almost knocked him off his feet. After regaining his balance, Flint used the opportunity to target the fae woman’s head. He identified her as a sylph—fae naturally attuned to the wind who wielded spells to bend the natural force to their will. If she recovered, any advantage they had gained would disappear. Then Maya paused her whining to bark.

Back!

It was more an emotion than a word, and Flint knew that it had come from Maya. While leaping over the fae-woman, he caught a glimpse of the crimson light behind him. It was coming off the bear. The colors and emotions of rage, hatred, and violence accompanied it. The creature’s front paws blurred before striking where he’d been standing less than a heartbeat ago. Instead of hitting him, the glowing orange claws struck the fae-woman, cutting her off in the middle of an alien word. Flint had seen worse sights, but his stomach turned on seeing her crushed skull and caved-in chest cavity.

Even though Flint’s instincts told him to run, he stood his ground. Blood soaked Maya’s left side, and he sensed she was on the verge of collapse. The bear would easily run him down if he tried to escape while carrying her. Abandoning Maya wasn’t an option either. So, while the bear turned its head to the sky and bellowed, Flint reloaded his crossbow. His hands moved faster than they ever had before. [Trigger Finger]’s benefits showed a noticeable change now that he was in a pinch.

When the bear turned its attention to Flint, he ran sideways along the collapsed building’s walls away from Maya. He caught her collapse just out of the corner of his eye. If the bear got to her, she wouldn’t survive. Flint fired the first bolt, striking the beast’s side. The attack got its attention. The behemoth charged at him once more, roaring.

Running in circles to confuse the beast would’ve been ideal, but he couldn’t risk the smaller predator returning to jump him or Maya. So, Flint focused on getting his erratic breathing under control and formulated a plan. Once he knew what he was doing, he stopped against the wall across the square from Maya. Flint faced the bear and aimed at it down the sights. Once it was less than six feet away, he channeled [Focused Shot]. The ability sapped his strength but let him line up the crossbow with the beast’s eye. Then he fired and leapt to his left. Flint didn’t wait to determine whether the bolt had hit its mark or not and sprinted toward the dead fae-woman.

When Flint heard the bear charging again, he knew the next seconds would determine Maya’s survival—and his, of course. He dove over the mangled corpse and snatched up the rune-covered blade dagger. As expected, the bear hesitated once near its dead friend. A powerful wave of sorrow and self-loathing spread from the beast. Flint took advantage of the opening and flanked it. His lungs protested and a stitch formed in his side, but Flint ignored the discomfort. He thrust the blade forward, putting all his weight behind the weapon.

[Builder’s Brawn] didn’t activate since the dagger didn’t count as a building tool, material, or complex mechanism. However, the runes flared when the weapon made contact, piercing through the bear’s hide and flesh like it were butter. Flint bounced off the fur and landed on his bottom, still holding the hilt. Only a nail-sized fragment of the blade remained. The beast swayed for a second before falling. Flint had to roll out of the way to avoid getting crushed.

He scanned the vicinity for the fae woman’s second companion. Flint saw no signs of it besides a trail of blood leading away from the square. Hoping it had suffered a mortal wound, he rushed back to Maya. She whined as he stroked her head. Her chest rose and fell at an alarming rate, and the blood on the ground had turned black.

“No.” Flint sighed, desperately feeling around his person. He had left the bandages and salves on the cart. He leaned in and kissed the side of her head, desperately looking for options. “I’m not going to let you die, girl. I promise—”

The Heartstone hummed loudly, and Flint had his way out. He sprinted to the stone monolith, praying nothing would come after Maya while he was communing with it. Flint let the structure suck him into the endless sea of white, approached the book, and paused, looking over the class options.

None of the classes said whether they’d provide instant healing options right away. Logic dictated that the hunting-focused class could potentially help him fix Maya, but there were no guarantees. He also found himself with the impossible quandary of whether to risk the entire life quest for her. The thought only lasted for a second, and Flint reprimanded himself straight after. Maya was the only connection he had in the world, and he refused to compromise. [Artillerist] was, of course, out of the question now. He prayed to the Heartstone that [Kennel Master] would give him the tools to save Maya’s life and locked in his decision.

8

When Maya came to, her mind felt clearer than ever before. As she lay on her side thinking about it, Maya realized she had never really thought about her mind before. Maya had lived a life of dos, don’ts, wants, and don’t wants. She had daydreamed of rabbits, juicy bones, and big chewable sticks but never stopped to ponder about herself or anything around her.

No.

Maya did occasionally think about her human. She loved her human, and whenever he wasn’t around, she thought about spending time with him. When he used to tell her to stay and go work with the smelly men, Maya would ponder when he’d finish and what they’d eat for dinner. Maya concluded that she did think and ponder. However, for the first time in her lovely, long existence, her “self” was the subject of her thoughts.

It didn’t feel right. So, Maya got back on her feet and gave herself a good shake. She discovered when she was a wee pup that a good shake solved most problems. Or was it something her mother taught her? Maya thought about it for a moment and rejected the idea. She didn’t remember her mother nor the taste of her milk. In fact, Maya recalled getting pushed aside when trying to suckle. It was a memory she had never looked back on before and remembered her mother hadn’t helped her get a drink. So, she came to another conclusion. Her mother was a very bad girl. It was why her human rescued her, fed her, and taught her everything worth knowing.

Another question blossomed in Maya’s mind. She took a moment to appreciate her new love of coming up with questions and answering them herself. It was better than living in the unknown. Where did her human go? She recalled the query being a subject of frequent ponderings. In the past, however, she’d spend a while looking for an answer before a passing sight or smell distracted her.

Even though Maya wanted to find an answer to her question, the ground was cool and comfortable, and her body felt heavy. So, she craned her neck, investigating her surroundings. Usually, the aroma of blood and flesh would pique her interest, but the sudden awareness of having thoughts and ponderings had distracted her.

Maya’s sniffer detected two different kinds of blood and meat. One made her drool, while the other smelled off. She worried that eating it would make her sick. Maya didn’t like her human’s face when she got ill, so even though she was curious, she decided to avoid it.

Eventually, she spotted the figure she adored and admired. It was her human. The sun shone on his lovely face as he stood holding the shiny pillar. Maya wandered over and sniffed him. He smelled sweaty and tired, but nothing felt off about him. Maya nudged his left calf. When he didn’t react, she jumped up on her hind legs and licked at his chin. It was then Maya realized that she was bigger. She had tried to reach his face without jumping for years and never succeeded until then. Maya found it odd since she had stopped growing not long after her first heat.

A rumbling distracted Maya. She scanned her surroundings with her eyes and ears but saw nothing. Then she heard the sound again. It was her stomach. Maya didn’t recall when she’d last eaten. To be fair, she rarely remembered her last meal. Her human would often tell her off for it when she politely asked for a nibble of whatever he was feasting on.

In Maya’s opinion, he wasn’t fair when it came to food. Her human got to eat whenever he wanted, but she didn’t. He decided when she got her meals and what she was allowed to put in her mouth. Meanwhile, he’d snack and treat himself whenever he wanted. She’d occasionally get a morsel, but most of the time, he’d say no. It wasn’t fair, but she loved her human no matter what and would put up with it. Besides, he didn’t know that she’d occasionally sneak off to find wild snacks. She’d eat little crunchy bugs, squishy berries, and sometimes grass too.

Maya studied the two corpses near her and then looked back at her human. He appeared busy. She nudged his calf again, but he didn’t budge, so she took mealtime into her own hands. Maya investigated the smaller body first. As she had guessed, it was the one that didn’t smell right. Besides, even though the creature didn’t smell human, it looked like one. She didn’t feel right eating it, so she investigated the bigger body next.

Maya recognized the beast after a minute of sniffing. She had smelled its stench in the wind the day before. In fact, Maya recalled smelling something similar long ago while she and her human were traveling through the woods. Maya remembered finding a large cake of aromatic droppings and then getting dragged away before she could snack or roll in it. Her human had told her it belonged to a bear, and if she encountered one, she should run.

The bear in front of Maya was dead. She sniffed a couple of other scents in the bear too. One ran throughout the bear’s body, wrapping around everything inside. Even though the big ball of fur was dead, whatever she sniffed inside it was alive and tempting. Meanwhile, the second scent scared her. It reminded her of pain and horror. It was on the side of the bear facing the ground, though, and was far from her reach, so Maya didn’t worry too much. She sniffed around the point where one of her human’s flying sticks had pierced the bear’s skin and dug in, ripping at the already pierced flesh.

A spicy warmth filled Maya. Her human loved spicy food and occasionally let her taste them, but she’d never been fond of them. However, she found the bear’s flesh delicious. The initial weakness she had felt after waking up faded with every bite. Then the tightness in her side followed. Maya realized a numbness had taken over her body, and the meat was washing it away. A burning spread across her left side, but it lessened as she ate too. It felt like when she got a grass seed in her eye, and her human took it out. Her eye stung for a while—it was hard to see and wouldn’t stop leaking—but eventually, it got better. Maya’s side felt similar. It was hard to bend at first, but now it leaked while she ate and then got better.

Maya ate until she didn’t want to anymore. She recalled enjoying such luxury only once before when she was a wee pup. Her human had let her roam free while he ate with other humans. A friendly man with bad breath had almost stepped on her paw. He’d petted Maya and cooed to her afterward and then forgotten her on the table. She remembered taking sausages off several plates before her human scooped her up and scolded her. Maya recalled being too full to care. She had fallen asleep in his lap afterward, and it was one of her favorite memories.

When Maya finished, her human still hadn’t moved. She worried for a moment, but then an uncontrollable thirst came over her. After wandering down the road away from the bear, she heard running water. It didn’t take Maya long to find the source. She encountered a little pool further uphill. The water came out of the gray stone filling a deep hole. Maya drank her fill and had a quick dip to cool her body down. Her stomach felt too heavy, so she didn’t stay in the pool for long.

While wondering whether exploring instead of sitting by her human would make her a bad girl, Maya heard voices in the distance. They were human voices. Curiosity got the better of her, so she kept her head low and trotted uphill. It didn’t take her long to find people. There were three of them, two men and a woman. They were talking to each other in hushed voices and walking downhill.

“I can see the gates from here, Jerome,” the woman said. She had a crooked back and walked with a stick. Maya liked her smell. It was sweet and reminded her of flowers. “The barricade is intact. Are you sure you didn’t smoke too much Cynth petal last night?”

“Do you want Da to beat me again, Miss Lya?” The younger of the two men asked. “I haven’t smoked anything but pipeweed in months. Besides, I never touch Cynth petals while on watch duty—”

“Sure you didn’t,” Miss Lya chuckled. “I suppose someone else has been sneaking into my greenhouse every night you’re off duty.”

“If there were screaming women and roaring monsters in the grounds last night, they had to get in somehow,” the older man commented. “Are you sure you didn’t fall asleep, Jerome?”

“I’m telling you, Mr. Mayor, sir. It was a couple of hours after sunset when I saw the Heartstone glow brighter than I’ve ever seen it before. Then I heard a terrible cry. I got my looking glass but saw nothing on the planes or walls. Then there were yelps, a woman speaking in tongues, and lots of roaring. I bet it was a monster, sir!” The boy looked between the two elders, then his shoulders drooped. “I’m not making this up, I promise. The Heartstone flashed again, and everything went quiet.”

“The Heartstone, you say?” Miss Lya chuckled once again. She helped herself to the metal stick hanging from Jerome’s belt and stuck it to her eye. Maya wasn’t sure what she was doing, but the temptation to smell her closely almost took over. “It’s dimmer than usual.” Her old brow furrowed. “I reckon there’s no harm in having a closer look. I’ve been coddling my joints for too long. What do you say, Mr. Mayor? Are you willing to trim down that belly of yours?”

Mr. Mayor laughed. “Let’s go have a look.”

As Maya watched the trio continue their journey downhill, it occurred to Maya that she’d understood almost all of what the humans said. More importantly, she had just learned new words and names. She loved it when she learned new things. Her human would smile and reward her with treats, belly rubs, and kisses.

All of a sudden, it occurred to Maya that the people were heading toward her human. She gave up on sneaking and ran toward them. Jerome let out a high-pitched scream when she brushed past his leg.

“Was that a dog?” Miss Lya asked.

“It was!” Mr. Mayor exclaimed. “A big one at that. Have you ever seen a sheepdog of that size, Miss Lya?”

Maya didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. She needed to get back to her human and alert him before the others reached him. He, for the first time ever, had fallen asleep while standing up. She didn’t want anyone sneaking up and scaring him. Maya hated it when strangers scared her while she was sleeping.

Her human didn’t mind when she licked his face until he woke up. However, slathering his nose, cheeks, or jaw didn’t help at all. He remained motionless, glued to the pillar. It wasn’t her favorite course of action, but Maya settled for biting down on his chewy leather coat and tugging. It didn’t taste as good after he poured smelly oils on it, but she had run out of options. Strangers were coming, and he needed to know.

9

Even though Flint’s decision left him weak and sore, he had no regrets. He watched patiently as tiny holes formed around the [Class Node] and extended slowly toward the others, creating a cross-like design. Little lights filled a few of them, marking his abilities, and when Flint focused, the titanic book told him what they were.

Fortunately, the Heartstone had detected his desperation. It must’ve understood his reasoning and made an executive decision for his first class ability. A pyramid appeared within the class stone, and then Maya’s silhouette formed at the apex. A circle directly to the left of the class stone lit up.

As [Soul Link] sapped Flint’s strength, Maya’s silhouette filled with color. An instinctual knowledge blossomed deep inside him, and he knew Maya was now his number two. Going forward, she’d be his second in command. As he found other dogs and brought them into his kennel, she’d assist in their training and management. Flint loved and trusted Maya implicitly. He wouldn’t have cared if the Heartstone gave him a useless ability as long as it saved Maya’s life. A wordless assurance from the compass told him she was going to be okay. However, when he tried to break his connection with the structure and check on her, it didn’t let go. He had no choice but to trust the Heartstone and hope for the best.

The skill stones in his [Power Node] and [Aura Node] changed their names as the compass grew. [Building] turned into [Defensive Construction] and [Canine Friend] became [Pack Leader].

Flint recognized [Soul Link] as the first ability born of the connection between the [Kennel Master] and [Pack Leader].

[Soul Link]

Share your soul’s vitality with the pack. Give them strength, bolster their recovery, and reinforce their minds. You’re connected now. Live as one.

Two new skills appeared in the space between the [Class Node] and [Defensive Construction]: [Totem of Nurture] and [Totem of Healing].

[Totem of Nurture]

Enchant a structure with the power of nurture and care. The young will grow faster, and the matured may gain experience and knowledge at an accelerated rate.

[Totem of Healing]

Keeping the pack out of harm’s way is impossible. So, enchant a structure to create a safe haven for when they’re hurt. The totem will wash away their aches and pains and accelerate their recovery from more serious wounds.

It annoyed Flint that he had no control over what abilities the Heartstone granted him. Usually, it gave him a choice and gave him more detailed explanations so he could make an informed decision. However, he had no reason to complain about the abilities. The two totems wouldn’t just affect Maya, but him too.

Finally, and much to his surprise, an ability appeared between [Kennel Master] and [Marksmanship] too: [Marking Shot].

[Marking Shot]

Mark an enemy with your fired projectiles, highlighting it for your pack. Once the dogs track down your target and take it down, they will enjoy a boost to their speed and power.

Flint hoped he wouldn’t have to use the ability any time soon. He needed a brief respite from battle and hoped nothing else would attack them for a while.

An invisible force tugged on Flint’s consciousness, and he tried to pull away from the Heartstone, but an invisible force held him in place. It took him a moment to realize it was the book. More words appeared on the page as he approached the ancient tome.

[Saving the Savior]

[Objective I]

Restore the outer wall and add deterrents to counter infiltrators.

Reward: Reasonable safety

[Class Quest]

Build a kennel and house two dogs

Reward: [Guide Growth]

Then the tugging sensation got stronger, and the Heartstone released Flint. The pedestal and compass shot away, disappearing into the endless white, and he found himself standing in the Slumbering Fort’s ruins.

Much to Flint’s surprise, sunlight bathed the stone around him. It felt like only a quarter of an hour had passed since he communed with the monolith, but it had obviously been longer. The tugging stopped, and he realized it was Maya once again.

“I’m glad you’re okay, girl,” he said, falling to his knees and pulling her into a hug. The muscles rippling under Maya’s thick fur surprised him. It wasn’t just that. Her eyes were almost on the same level as his. “You’ve grown!” Flint laughed. He wasn’t sure whether it was [Kennel Master] or [Soul Link] that had transformed her, but it didn’t matter. Flint was glad she was alive and thriving. That’s all that mattered. “You’re a big girl now, Maya.”

Maya wriggled while licking and nipping at Flint’s ear. Her new strength made it almost impossible for him to hold on, but he didn’t let go, assuming it was Maya’s usual play. Perhaps matching her new physiology would be possible if every joint didn’t ache. It felt like the Heartstone had tapped him like a tree, draining his sap and feeding everything to Maya. He hoped a good meal and a full night of sleep would be enough to help him recover.

Flint gave up when Maya changed tactics and licked his ears, tickling them. His hold weakened, and then a barrage of new sensations overcame him. Previously, Maya would send simple emotions or wants through their empathic link. Now, the wave of complex information hit him like a runaway cart. Maya didn’t just send him solitary colors or feelings anymore. Instead, he received a blurry image. It was like a still picture out of a memory but in muted yellow-and-blue shades.

It took Flint a couple of minutes to wrestle the flames burning in his mind. Once the pain subsided, the image came into focus. Flint saw three people: an older woman, a middle-aged man, and a teenager. Remains of moss- and vine-covered buildings surrounded them.

“We’ve got company, don’t we?” He groaned. Maya broke into a smile, wagging her tail. Flint didn’t know what the Heartstone had done to Maya, but she was no longer an ordinary dog.

Even though the trio looked like locals, Flint thought it prudent to reload his crossbow. He cursed himself for not doing it before communing with the Heartstone. They didn’t have evidence of the fae woman’s second beast companion dying. It could still be hiding somewhere. If the creature attacked while Maya had been unconscious or he was mid-communion, they’d have suffered a painful death.

Tremors shook Flint’s hands, making reloading a chore. He worried relying solely on [Builder’s Brawn] would damage the crossbow, so he took his time. By the time both barrels had bolts in them, he could hear voices approaching the Heartstone. Flint didn’t want to scare the locals since it was likely they’d become a big part of his life, so he let the crossbow hang from his shoulder in clear view.

The trio stepped into the square and froze. Flint wasn’t sure how, but he already knew their names. The teenager, Jerome, gripped his spear with both hands, but his stance was all wrong. Mr. Mayor and Miss Lya took cover behind him, their eyes darting between Flint, Maya, and the corpses.

“What the hell happened here?” Jerome demanded. The spear trembled in his hold as he backpedaled hesitantly.

Flint held his hands up in mock surrender. “They attacked, and I put them down,” he answered. “I don’t know whether they were pursuing me or here to investigate the fort—”

“There’s no fort here, lad,” Mr. Mayor said. “Only ruins.” His voice didn’t tremble like Jerome’s, but his face had lost color. “What did you do to that fae girl’s head?”

“I didn’t do anything besides disarm her. The bear was Wyld-touched. It tried to get me but ended up crushing her instead.”

Mr. Mayor’s eyes narrowed as he studied the collapsed building. “I take it the bear destroyed this too?”

“I think so, sir,” Flint said, lowering his arms. Jerome fell into an aggressive stance, advancing a couple of steps, but Flint got the feeling he didn’t have the stones to attack. “In all honesty, I didn’t see what attacked the building, but given that thing’s size, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Flint didn’t want to talk anymore. He needed to sit down, eat, and perhaps sleep. Maya stepped in front of him and bared her teeth at Jerome. His already wide eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. Jerome retreated three steps, bumping into Miss Lya and almost knocking her over. She smacked his shoulder, making him jump.

“What ate the bear then?” Miss Lya asked, peeking over Jerome’s shoulder.

“What?” Flint glanced back at the bear’s corpse and then did an alarmed double-take, his eyes widening. He worried the smaller beast had returned during the night when he saw a toddler-sized chunk missing from its belly. Then he sensed a prideful aura emanating from Maya. Even though she maintained her offensive stance and kept her teeth bared, her tail wagged for a moment before going stiff. “I don’t know. The fae-girl—a sylph, I think—had a black stone blade with glowing runes etched into it. I stabbed the bear with it, and that was the end of it.”

“You’re a liar!” Jerome exclaimed. “I know a liar when I see one. What kind of monster are you—”

“Hush, boy!” Mr. Mayor said he pushed Jerome’s spear down with his right hand and stepped past him. “You’re not wearing a uniform, and I don’t see any crests or badges on you, yet you carry yourself like a soldier. Are you the Iron Army’s scout?”

“No, sir,” Flint answered. He removed the crossbow’s strap from across his shoulders and lowered it to the ground. The move didn’t relax the trio. However, when he scratched Maya between the ears and got her to stand down, the stiffness left their shoulders. “I’m a two-term veteran of the Iron Army’s Building Division but no longer serve them. They’re pulling all of their forces from the area and consolidating them along the defensive lines and more populated lands—”

“Then what are you doing here?” Jerome snapped. He tried raising his spear again, but Mr. Mayor pushed the weapon down once again. “We don’t stand for thieves here.”

“Let the lad talk, Jerome,” Miss Lya said. She smiled at Maya and limped toward them. Jerome tried to pull her back, but she brushed him off. Maya’s tongue hung out, and her tail took off as the older woman got close. Miss Lya petted her, and Flint saw flowers through the empathic link. It sent a sharp pain through his skull again, and he tried his best not to let it show. “What are you doing here? We don’t take kindly to strangers here, lad. You best not have come to make trouble.”

“I’m here for a life quest,” Flint said, and all three sets of eyes widened. Miss Lya looked back at Mr. Mayor, concerned.

“What manner of life quest?” Miss Lya’s tone changed from that of a sweet old lady to that of a strict elder. Flint sensed wisps of worry in the air.

“My quest involves reawakening the Sleeping Fort and protecting Lea’s Slumber. The Heartstone hasn’t given me a reason for my quest, but I’ve received a class to see it done and the accompanying objectives.” Once again, Flint thought it best not to mention the Champion of Equilibrium. People got too excited or concerned at the mention of heroes, champions, and heralds. He didn’t want to get sucked into politics or drama. “I’m a builder who’s done serving men with selfish agendas, so I’m here to make repairs and live a quiet life.”

“If you’ve got a life quest, the Heartstone intends for your life to be anything but quiet,” Miss Lya said. “However, I can respect wanting to live your life without having to answer to anyone.”

“We don’t need this place fixed up, lad,” Mr. Mayor said. “It works just fine keeping people out and making the slope deserted. If you fix it up, someone or other will show up wanting to take control.” Miss Lya stared daggers at him, but the man didn’t stop. “You’re one man. How are you going to fix up a fort and defend it alone? You’ve done us a service by killing the sylph and her monster. Take your class and leave us alone.”

“Hush now, Mr. Mayor.” Miss Lya limped over to him and struck his shin with her cane. “I know you believe he’s lying, but considering what Jerome saw last night, I think otherwise.” She pointed at the stone monolith behind Flint. “That Heartstone has been dimming for years. This boy—” Miss Lya stopped mid-sentence and turned around. “What’s your name, son?”

“Flint.”

“Flint must be the reason why it’s twinkling again,” Miss Lya smiled. “The Sleeping Fort was once a beacon of hope during a stressful time. You’ve heard the stories, Mr. Mayor. It was a bastion and safe haven for all not willing to get involved in the war. If the lad is a builder, there is no harm in letting him fix things up.”

“He’s all alone, though—”

“So we’ll help him!” Miss Lya raised her voice, silencing Mr. Mayor. “There are enough young men and women in the village rotting away like this fool of a boy.” She poked Jerome’s leg with her staff, making him yelp. “Cutting them off from the world isn’t doing them much good. It’s time we wean them off the spirits and Cynth petal and make real people out of them! Having a classer around is good for everyone.” She turned her attention back to Flint. “Do you have food and water, lad?”

Flint nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve got a couple of days’ worth…” He recalled the mule’s cries from the night before. “I think. I’ll have to get back over the wall and see whether the sylph and the bear left anything intact.”

“You do that. We don’t know you well enough to invite you to the village yet, but I’ll send someone over with food and drink later today.” Miss Lya turned her attention to Mr. Mayor. “Get the young lads and lasses together. I want them to meet Flint a couple of days from now, and we can go from there.”

Mr. Mayor opened his mouth to protest, but Miss Lya pushed past him and started her slow journey uphill. The others looked back at Flint for a moment before following her.

“Life’s going to be more complicated here than I thought, Maya.” Flint sighed, sitting down and leaning against the Heartstone. “We get to make the decisions for once, though. That’s nice, isn’t it?”

Maya barked and licked his face. Flint accepted her affections and made himself comfortable for a quick nap.

10

Flint felt a lot better after a short nap. It wasn’t as good as a full night’s sleep, but he didn’t want to waste any more daylight. He found a head-sized package of bread, cheese, cured meat, and fresh fruit sitting by the Heartstone. Someone must have dropped it off while he slept. He offered Maya a bite, but she nudged his hand away. Her eyes danced between him and the bear corpse, and pride followed. Since Maya never said no to food, it confirmed his suspicion that she had indeed tucked into the fae-touched beast and filled her stomach. However, her ears perked up when he bit into the apple. She accepted a sliver before leaving him to sniff around the square.

After draining half of the gifted waterskin, Flint returned to the cart. It came as no surprise that the mule had a giant chunk missing out of its neck. Something half the bear’s size had ripped open the belly too. Flint guessed it was the smaller creature’s work. The cart was overturned, and the axle had snapped, but the tools and supplies within were untouched. Flint piled the tools onto the tarp he used to cover his belongings and bundled them together for transport. He was glad the cart’s covering had come with a new length of rope. It made transporting his belongings much easier.

Flint climbed to the top of the wall before pulling his belongings up. Once done, he took the cart apart and moved the wood over too. It was high quality and treated for waterproofing. He’d get good use out of it sooner rather than later.

Once he returned to the inside of the gate, Maya came trotting back to meet him. Flint sensed disappointment off the sheepdog. He guessed she had tried using her entry holes to follow him out but was now too large for them. Maya hadn’t just gained height but bulk too. As Flint walked back toward the Heartstone, he wondered what part of [Soul Link] influenced her growth.

Did the ability improve everything about her? Or could she be benefiting from my skills?

The only explanation for her increased size was either a passive boost from the class or [Builder’s Brawn]. Flint recalled having a much skinnier frame when he first got the ability. Years of working in the Building Division had improved his physique. He wasn’t sure whether it was all-natural or if the passive ability had played a role in it too. If it did, that meant [Keen Eye], [Steady Hands], and all the other passive abilities would benefit her as well. Maya could potentially become more invaluable than she already was.

[Builder’s Brawn] gave Flint the strength necessary to haul the load back to the Heartstone, and he found himself wondering where to set up base. Eventually, he intended to make the fort his home. It was a long uphill trek, though, and he didn’t want to carry tools back and forth on a daily basis. As a result, he needed something far enough from the wall so future attackers would struggle to locate him.

“Have you found any water, Maya?” Flint asked, wiping the sweat from his brow. He guessed she must’ve washed her white and brown snout somewhere after devouring half her former body weight in bear meat.

Maya yapped at him instead of her usual barks and took off uphill. Her new calls sounded more like a child’s babble than barking. Flint didn’t mind since it reminded him of Maya’s puppy days before she learned to bark. He found it adorable and couldn’t help but smile. He followed her, enjoying the quiet and cold air.

The weather around the Sleeping Fort was much colder than Hammercrest. It was near the Gator Tooth range, after all. Fortunately, the cliffs bordering the pass kept the wind out. Unwilling to catch a cold, Flint hesitated for a moment before peeling his leather coat off. His shirt clung to his chest. After two weeks of traveling, it needed changing. However, Flint didn’t want to put on his new clothes without bathing first.

When the sound of running water reached Flint’s ears, he couldn’t be happier. When Maya sent him the image of a pool, he’d expected a puddle or a pit. Instead, he found a source of running water. The stream exiting the eastern cliff face was only a couple of feet across, but Flint suspected it was part of something much larger, and some digging could turn it into a valuable resource. The water gathered in a deep hole, most likely with an exit somewhere inside. Otherwise, there’d be an overflow. It wouldn’t take long to turn it into a well.

Initially, Flint had planned on not doing any building on the first day. He was still pretty worn out from the fight and communing with the Heartstone. However, the water source’s vicinity felt like the perfect place to set up camp. Many would’ve preferred staying right by the Heartstone, but Flint found the multi-colored runes and their light show unnerving. So, for the first time in over two weeks, he got back to what he did best: building.

Even though several buildings’ skeletons remained, Flint didn’t trust them to hold up after half a millennium of neglect. The fort above appeared in decent shape, but he guessed individuals with high-ranking skill stones had worked on them. Meanwhile, novices had clearly built the structures between the inner and outer walls. The Iron Army’s Building Division used the more straightforward, less-important projects to train the newcomers and help level up their skills. Often a veteran and their apprentice would supervise their work and ensure their buildings were structurally sound.

For the first time in several months, Flint put [Shape] to good use. Most builders would mold the surrounding earth to build themselves a hut, but he wanted a more permanent structure. Besides, Flint didn’t have anyone besides Maya to watch his back. He wanted her to rest in reasonable safety too. So, he opted for a structure that would hold up a while against bear and war beast attacks.

Before starting, Flint used rope to draw lines in the dirt and put together a shape parallel to the neighboring ruins. Sooner or later, he’d rebuild them all and wanted something well laid out from the start.

Starting the structure against the cliff face would’ve reduced Flint’s workload and given him extra security. However, he planned to carve out parts of the stone, find water sources, and create hidden tunnels for his future dogs to travel up and downhill swiftly without obstacles.

There is no point in building without planning around the current project. You’ll end up with an untidy, uninhabitable mess.

During his first term in the Iron Army, Flint had disagreed with the sentiment, but in his eighth year, he changed his mind when he started planning sections of larger builds. Even though he didn’t sketch it all out on paper, Flint had a rough idea of how he wanted the area to look. The location could provide housing or storage during regular times. If someone attacked, it could turn into a maze or even a death trap.

[Shape] let Flint take a chosen material and mold it into a desirable shape. There were several unsaid limitations to the ability, which he had learned through trial and error as most builders did. It worked with stone, clay, wood, and a couple of other materials but only let him make simple shapes. Veteran builders often displayed the ability’s unsaid applications too. After a fight with an older brother-in-arms, he recalled their commanding officer had ordered them to dig trenches for sewage. The offered tools were old and unstable.

The old builder had shaped a solid block out of the ground without tools. He had laughed on seeing Flint’s wide-eyed amazement and requested he not do the same around someone outside the Building Division. They’d slash the company’s budget. It had taken a long time to master the application, but it had proven its worth over the years.

Most [Shape] involved working with an almost homogenous material. It required the user to have a clear image of what they wanted and then activating the ability to burn energy and mold the object. The more impurities or oddities there were in the material, the less energy-efficient [Shape] got.

Flint imagined a rectangular block two feet long, one foot wide, and one foot thick. Then he poured his energy to the floor and focused. Much to his relief, the ability absorbed minimal energy before the rectangle dislodged from the ground. The material’s previous roughness was gone, and he held a near-perfect version of what he had imagined. Then he set about going around the square and extracting similar blocks out of the ground.

He was just finishing up the foundation when Maya returned to him barking. She had wandered off while he worked, and the concern she projected worried him. Flint tried to get a clear image out of her, but he didn’t get one like last time. Assuming it was a one-time thing, he picked up his crossbow and followed her.

When Flint spotted a trail of several-hours-old blood, he guessed what she had found: the sylph’s second beast. Maya maintained a brisk pace ahead of him, occasionally pausing to look back with her large, expressive eyes. He sensed that she didn’t fear the creature, suggesting it was too injured to do them any harm. He followed her with a plan of putting it down swiftly and burying all three bodies once he finished his shelter.

A wave of unfamiliar emotions crashed down on Flint as he approached a crumbling square structure near the pass’s opposing cliff wall. It was one story high, and the lack of windows suggested it was once a storage structure. Flint detected terror and sorrow in more detail than he ever had before Maya’s sudden growth. He signaled for her to stay before peeking his head into the structure, looking down the crossbow’s sights. Flint’s finger faltered on the weapon’s trigger when he spotted another canine.

Flint wasn’t entirely sure whether it was a dog or not. The creature in front of him was wolf-like in size but looked very much like the sled-pulling snow dogs he had encountered in the northern icy wastelands. A crossbow bolt stuck out of its side, and the fur around the wound had fallen out. The beast bared its teeth when their eyes met, and a weak growl vibrated in his throat. Another wave of emotion washed over Flint, and pain accompanied the other feelings.

As Flint left the doorway and entered the structure, more sunlight reached the beast, illuminating the wounded area. His chest tightened when he saw burn marks. He knew they weren’t born of fire straight away. The dog was fae-touched and reacting to the iron stuck in its side. Flint found himself torn. Killing the beast would be the rational move, but the thought of killing a dog broke his heart. If it were any other canine, he’d find a way to deal with the guilt, but he didn’t want to kill the beast in front of him unless absolutely necessary. If the Heartstone hadn’t given him an ability called [Totem of Healing], he’d have justified that he was putting the beast out of its misery, but now, he had to try.

“I’m going to help you,” Flint said, maintaining a gentle tone. He sent calm, friendly colors through his empathic link to the creature until the growling stopped. “I’ll fix you up. Then you’re free to be my friend or run away. It’s your choice.”

Flint removed the belt from around his waist, getting closer to the beast. It eventually pulled its teeth in, but the dog’s tail remained between its legs. He lunged and wrapped the leather around its muzzle and tightened it. The dog wriggled for a moment but yelped when the arrow scraped Flint’s shoulder and then stopped.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Flint said. “It’s just so you don’t get any ideas and bite me.”

The creature stiffened and whined when he picked the dog up. Flint had to put up with its weak wriggling until it saw Maya waiting outside. Flint carried it back to the building site and placed it by the running water. The whining got louder, but he focused on securing the beast first.

Next to the base Flint was constructing stood a large stone pillar. Of all the surrounding structures, it was the most intact. He picked it as a test subject for his newest ability. Flint pressed his hands to it and thought of [Totem of Healing]. Nothing happened at first. He studied the structure, rubbing his hands against the rough surface. When he tried activating [Shape], his hands suddenly stuck to the stone. A powerful force drew on his strength, making his joints ache, and his knees wobble. Darkness bordered Flint’s vision, and he was worried he was going to pass out. So, he pulled away with all of his remaining strength and stumbled to the ground.

Maya rushed to Flint’s side and licked his face, but his eyes remained focused on the pillar. A green aura swirled around the structure before coalescing and sticking to the stone. It formed fluorescent, flowing lines much like vines, and then leaves sprouted from it. When the shapes stopped moving, a wave of sapphire energy pulsed from the pillar and washed over all of them. Flint’s aches disappeared, but he again felt drained as he had before the nap.

When he returned to the dog, its eyes were closed and breathing slow. The burn marks around the arrow wound had lessened, so he carefully pulled the bolt out. Much to his relief, the dog neither stirred nor bled. Flint tied the dog to the new [Totem of Healing] and washed the wound. After some thought, he shaped a stone to form a bowl and filled it with water. Flint carefully undid the makeshift muzzle and left the beast alone.

“Keep an eye on him, will you?” He said before settling down for a meal.

The stone hut would have to wait until morning. Flint was exhausted. So, he ate a quick meal and went to sleep facing his latest creation.

11

Flint woke to the caress of dawn’s first rays. Over the past couple of weeks, he had gotten used to finding Maya cuddled up to him. He appreciated the additional warmth and was disappointed to find himself alone. Now, she stood by the [Totem of Healing], feasting on a monstrous chunk of meat with the fae-touched snow dog. He made plans to bury both corpses later in the day.

The idea of Maya eating fae-touched flesh didn’t sit right with Flint. He had never bothered to find out what made a beast fae-touched. He suspected it was their magic or something they fed their animal friends. The older builders often said fae-touched creatures eventually turned into war beasts, and he wasn’t keen on finding out whether they were right. However, he didn’t interrupt their meal. Maya had already eaten fae-touched flesh once and didn’t show any adverse effects. A second helping wouldn’t make too big a difference—or so he hoped. Besides, he didn’t want to risk taking the snow dog’s meal away.

When Flint was still a boy moving between the streets and the orphanages, he had befriended a young man from the frozen wastes in the north. Bjorn Johansson was a rough-natured apprentice baker and had tossed Flint several stale rolls before turning them into breadcrumbs for his master. So, to honor Bjorn, Flint named the snow dog after him.

Flint whistled when the two canines finished their meal. Maya spun around excitedly and ran toward him with her tongue out and tail wagging. Flint pushed her away when she tried to lick his face.

“Not with that bloody mouth, Maya.” He laughed, pointing at the pool. Maya’s smile disappeared, but her tail didn’t stop moving. She came at Flint again, and he shoved her harder. “No.” Amusement radiated through the empathic link. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

She relented after a two-minute standoff. Maya drank her fill, looking back at Flint for a moment before diving into the water. He knew what was coming and tried getting up and running. Unfortunately, Maya was much stronger than him. She’d consistently outpaced him in foot races. Now, with her physiology enhanced, she was faster than before. Maya tackled Flint to the floor before he could get on his feet and then gave herself a good shake, spraying the area.

Flint wanted to be annoyed, but Maya’s expression and the joy he felt through the empathic link got in the way. He laughed and smiled, trying to wrestle her to the ground. It took a minute of struggling, but he finally got her down. Maya looked up at him with her big puppy eyes before licking his nose. Flint recognized it as an acceptance of defeat and released her.

A second wave of amusement reached Flint, and he turned his attention to Bjorn. The second he met the dog’s eyes, the stream of broadcasted emotion stopped. Bjorn bared his teeth at him, but Flint understood it was a warning and not a threat of violence. He was sure it would take a while for the dog to warm up to him, but he intended to add the beautiful creature to his pack. Flint wasn’t in love with Bjorn yet, but he believed [Kennel Master] was designed for such purposes. Turning the enemy’s hounds against them would shake the most powerful of fae mages.

When Flint approached Bjorn, his fluffy tail disappeared between his legs, and a rumbling sounded in his throat. Maya jumped in between them and barked, looking between the two of them.

“I just want to check his wounds and refill the water bowl,” Flint said, holding up his hands to show his palms were empty.

Maya trotted over to where Bjorn stood and pressed her front left paw to him. The snow dog stopped growling, but his tail remained between his legs.

“Thanks, girl.” Flint approached the pair slowly and knelt next to them.

Bjorn bared his teeth once again, but Maya swatted him with her paw. He calmed and let Flint approach. Scabs covered the puncture wound, and the burn marks were mostly gone. Bjorn wriggled away when he got within reaching distance, so the inspection didn’t last long. He’d gotten closer than expected, so Flint didn’t push it. Instead, he cut a slice off an apple and fed it to Maya.

Bjorn’s ears perked up, but he refused to look at the pair directly. Curiosity and gluttony intermingled with the fear as his emotions flared. Flint smiled to himself, cut a more significant piece, and placed it on the ground near Bjorn. The snow dog peeked at it out of the corner of his eyes but didn’t snap it up straight away.

Sooner or later, Bjorn would need to relieve himself. Flint thought it too cruel to keep him tied up indefinitely, so he untied him. Bjorn got up and tried to flee, but the left rear leg, the closest limb to the wound, buckled, and Bjorn fell on his face. The urge to run to the dog and help him bubbled up inside of Flint, but he pushed it down. After spending close to thirty years around dogs, Flint was sure Bjorn wouldn’t escape. He was hurt and had nowhere to go. Even though Bjorn feared him, the intelligent snow dog understood that he wouldn’t survive in the wild.

Flint filled the stone bowl and placed it near the [Totem of Healing] along with more apple chunks. “We’re going to make Bjorn our friend, Maya,” he said. “Don’t go eating his treats, alright?”

She sniffed around an apple chunk and looked up at Flint with her big puppy dog eyes but didn’t make a move. Maya projected her understanding and wandered off into the ruins, uphill from where they had slept.

Once alone, Flint made quick plans for the day. Before he started on the life quest’s next objective, he needed to finish the stone shelter. If the Heartstone considered it a kennel, too, it would give him another exciting ability. Besides the building project, he wanted to dispose of the corpses before they turned and attracted carrion, so he picked it as his first job of the day before bathing.

First, Flint explored the pass looking for a patch of soft ground—he found one more than halfway up the slope. It was close to the inner defensive wall. Due to the material’s softness, shaping blocks with it was a breeze, and he had a deep pit ready within half an hour. Then he wrapped the two bodies in his tarp and lugged them uphill using the rope. After Maya and Bjorn feasted on the monstrous chunks, the load was lighter than his tools, supplies, and cart. It took him a couple of hours to finish the bloody affair, and then he brought the dead mule’s corpse up to the camp.

Maggots had gathered around the bite mark, so he carved up the flesh around it and threw it in the fire. Then he skinned the beast and studied the animal, trying to figure out which bits were safe to eat. After some thought, he decided not to take any risks. By leaving the stomach intact, he had let the residing heat and waste materials ruin the flesh. It looked fine, but the smell felt off. So, he chopped off the limbs and buried the rest. He wrapped them in leaves the villagers had packed in their package. They had a fruity smell to them, and he hoped they were safe to eat. Finally, Flint left them on the fire’s edge to cook and absorb smoke before indulging in a bath.

The water in the natural well was ice cold, but it did an excellent job of washing viscera, two weeks of grime, and dirt off him. Among his traveling supplies, Flint had a small block of hard soap. He used it to lather himself from head to foot and dove into the water. Flint’s teeth chattered when he resurfaced, but he felt fresh for the first time in weeks.

While air-drying, Flint rinsed his travel wear and the tarp using the same soap. The latter was easier to clean since the craftsman had used alchemical oils to make it waterproof. As a result, the blood and weeks of dirt didn’t get into the fabric and stick. Once done, he hung them from a nearby wall to dry and changed into fresh clothes.

Dawn had just transitioned into morning when Flint started on his building project. After some thought, he expanded the foundation, shaping four similar rectangles out of the ground. The blocks he had created were only enough for a wall four feet high. The back wall didn’t need as many bricks due to the incline, but he still ended up using more blocks than he would’ve liked. Instead of [Shape]ing more out of the ground, he attacked the crumbling buildings around him. Flint compressed them into new solid blocks and added them to his new home.

Stacking the heavy blocks would’ve been enough for the Iron Army’s Building Division. The weight and close fit were usually sufficient. However, after facing the fae-touched bear and witnessing the Wyld’s war beasts in action, Flint didn’t want to take any risks. So, he used [Bind] to join the stones into singular pieces. Since the Building Division considered the ability a waste of energy, they didn’t allow its usage on the job, and Flint hadn’t gotten the opportunity to level it. At the first rank, it only had a three-foot-wide radius and took several applications to make the new structure look like a singular piece of stone.

It was noon by the time Flint finished. [Shape] didn’t create dust, and even though he was sweaty, he wasn’t dirty. However, exhaustion had successfully sunk its teeth into him. Flint dipped his head into the icy water to cool down. He was starting on lunch when Maya returned, and he detected anger through the empathic link. When Flint spotted Bjorn peeking at him from behind a nearby building, Flint assumed the snow dog had done something to annoy her. Then a piercing headache pulsed through his head, and he saw the bear’s remains. It took a moment for him to get over the pain and blink away tears before he could focus on the dogs.

“I’m sorry, Maya,” he said. “We don’t know what the sylph had done to the bear. Its flesh was probably not safe and on the turn.”

She barked as if scolding him. Even though Flint found the act amusing, he didn’t want to encourage it, so he maintained his calm expression.

“No.” He kept the syllable short and his tone firm. Maya was getting bigger and stronger, but it was vital she remember who was in charge. Her bubbling emotions reminded Flint of when Maya had just reached adulthood. For a few months, she had decided she knew better than him. Maya would often turn a deaf ear to his commands or even challenged them. Now, as she adapted to her new body and mind, it felt like much of the same. “I might be wrong, Maya, but until I’m sure we’re not taking the risk. No more fae-touched flesh for now.”

Maya’s tail dipped, and her ears went flat. She whined, but Flint stood firm. Eventually, Maya diverted her eyes to the ground and lowered her head. Flint showed appreciation of her acceptance before removing one of the mule legs from by the fire. He unwrapped the long, foot-wide leaf and sniffed at the meat. Maya’s ears pricked up once again, and her tail took off. She edged closer, sniffing the leg. When she didn’t reject it, Flint tossed it to Bjorn before unwrapping another for Maya.

She attacked the meal hungrily. After watching Maya for a moment, Bjorn dug into it. As Flint watched them, he wondered whether he could stomach the mule’s flesh. He pulled the other two legs away from the smoke and left them sitting to the side. As much as Flint loved meat, he couldn’t stomach the creature’s flesh—he had purchased and cared for the beast after all. Maya and Bjorn would get more out of it. He hoped the smoke and heat had killed all the sickness. Life would get infinitely harder if the dogs got sick. The [Totem of Healing] would fix up wounds, but the Heartstone hadn’t explained how it dealt with sickness.

The healing totem had proved itself as a worthwhile investment. It hadn’t just healed most of Bjorn’s injuries, but Flint felt restored to full strength too. Despite the morning’s exertions, he was ready to continue building until sunset. Flint used [Shape] to create more building blocks while trying to figure out how the totems worked. The ability wanted to drain more strength from him. So, he assumed more energy would increase the totem’s potency. However, there was one question he had no way of currently answering.

Does [Totem of Healing] have a ceiling for how much energy it requires, or can it be fed endlessly?

Either way, the ability felt too good to be true. A structure that indefinitely emitted an aura was much too powerful. Flint guessed it was akin to [Reinforce]. The ability would eventually run out of power and stop, but it was still an invaluable ability regardless.

Flint had heard stories of mages with auras that could heal multiple people at once, and the Iron Army paid an arm and a leg to recruit them. While auras lacked the potency of active abilities, they benefited every intended target in range. Having a structure capable of such feats would make siege and protection scenarios much more manageable.

As the hours passed and Flint’s muscles grew sore, he paused to have a drink and take a bite out of an apple. Within fifteen minutes, the discomfort would subside, and he’d have the strength to keep going.

Dusk was still an hour away when Flint decided he couldn’t carry on any longer. Even though the totem provided physical restoration, it did nothing for mental fatigue. So, he whistled for Maya, asked her to fetch wood for a fire, and called it a day.

12

A new day came, and Bjorn still bared his teeth or ran whenever Flint approached. However, he scarfed down whatever food Flint left on the ground for him—at least they were making progress. Maya played a big part in it too. She served as an example to Bjorn and demonstrated that the human could be trusted. In the morning, when they woke up, she had made a show of cuddling up to Flint and licking his chin. It got to be too much eventually, and he had no choice but to push her off. He caught a glimpse of Bjorn watching them out of the corner of his eye, though.

After sharing the last of his food with the dogs, Flint got to work. He only saved the dried fruits for himself since the mix contained raisins. A beastmaster had given him a comprehensive list of what foods were dangerous to dogs, and he had long committed them to heart.

“I’m going to need you to go hunting today, Maya,” Flint said. “Between your new appetite and Bjorn, I’m all out of food.”

Maya whined, watching him as he used [Bind] on the support pillars. Finally, he turned the open patch in the corner into a chimney. He placed the blocks vertically, creating supports, but left the space between them open. He closed the top with a flat slab, ensuring rain wouldn’t extinguish the planned fire pit below. Since the project was near completion and Flint had the energy to spare, he did some interior construction too.

Flint built a guiding wall on one of the chimney’s sides and extended it all the way to the floor. As a result, the pit had three walls bordering it: two external and one internal. They’d guide the smoke toward the chimney and keep it from spreading along the ceiling and filling the shelter. Flint dragged his tools into it and piled up the wood from the broken cart outside the hut. He planned on using a part of it for the door. For the time being, he draped the tarp over the exit. To mark the project complete, Flint channeled [Shape] and pressed his hand next to the entrance. The stone softened around his palm, forming an indentation.

The class quest would have to wait until Bjorn warmed up to him. So, Flint planned on repairing the wall first. It didn’t come with any tangible rewards. However, it would lead to another objective, and the next one would hopefully come with better incentives.

It was around mid-morning when Flint finished inspecting the building to ensure it was up to his standards. He gathered his tools and was about to head downhill when he heard footsteps. Flint rushed to the pool and washed his face. He realized then how much his beard had grown out. The Iron Army demanded they stay well-groomed unless in the field; Captain Ironheart would force his company to stay clean-shaven. His beard had filled out over the past couple of weeks. Flint had fallen into the habit of shaving regularly and would’ve liked to make himself presentable before meeting the village, but now he was out of options. So, he slung the crossbow across his shoulders and awaited their arrival.

Jerome, Mr. Mayor, and Miss Lya appeared first, followed by a half dozen people of mixed ages. Flint’s chest tightened. He’d expected more people. Extra pairs of hands would make his life several times easier, but a third of the people in front of him looked much too old. Their primary skills probably out-leveled his [Building], but Flint needed physically strong individuals who could keep up with him and follow instructions. He had learned long ago that after a certain age, egos got too big, and people took offense when someone younger gave them directions.

“Good to see you again, Miss Lya,” Flint yelled as they approached. He nodded at Jerome and Mr. Mayor, but they didn’t return the gesture.

She flashed him a broad smile and prodded Jerome with her stick. The young man stumbled forward and thrust a package into Flint’s hands. It was much larger than the last one.

“You’ve got fresh bread and cheese, cured meats, and fruits from my orchard,” Miss Lya said. “We arranged for some bones and raw meat for your dog too.”

“Thank you, Miss Lya,” Flint said, peeking inside the box. “You’ve got fresh meat and fruit up there?”

“We’re small but can sustain ourselves,” Mr. Mayor said. “Lea’s Slumber used to supply this fort and everyone living within the grounds. There’s a reason the great hero picked it as her resting ground.”

“The great hero?” Flint asked, confused by the insinuation.

“Why do you think the village is called Lea’s Slumber, Flint?” Mr. Mayor said his name almost like an insult. “After singlehandedly ending the last war and brokering a peace between the two sides, Lea Evergreen chose our village as her resting place. Her will runs in our blood.”

“We don’t need your help to protect us,” Jerome said. “We can do it ourselves.”

Miss Lya smacked his shin with her cane, making him yelp. “What did I say during our walk down here?” she asked. The men stood down while the people behind them mumbled to one another softly. Then Miss Lya returned her attention to Flint. “Have you been doing some digging, Flint?”

He nodded. “I didn’t want the Wyld scouts’ bodies to draw vermin or carrion, so I gave them a burial. The earth is soft up there. I was thinking of turning it into a little garden. It doesn’t feel right relying on you for food.”

“Nonsense!” Miss Lya exclaimed. She limped over to Flint’s cottage and ran her hand over the wall. “If this is an example of your work, you’ll be doing us a service by fixing the defenses and the fort up. The least we can do is keep you fed.” She sighed, looking up at Mr. Mayor. “The Iron Army might not care about history, but the fae do. A thousand years is not a long time for most of them, and I bet they’ll want to seek vengeance on the woman who cost them their victory. The fools might not realize it yet, but we need you. Don’t let the younglings tell you any different.”

“Unfortunately, history isn’t one of my strong subjects. I don’t know what happened here, but the Heartstone brought me here, and I promise not to let you—”

“You don’t know about Lea Evergreen?” One of the men snorted. His age appeared somewhere between Miss Lya and Mr. Mayor. “What in the world do the city people teach their children, boy?”

“I wouldn’t know, sir,” Flint said, smiling. “The matrons in the orphanage didn’t have time for bedtime stories after the war started.” The grin disappeared off the man’s face. “Unfortunately, the Iron Army forbids talk of older religions and beliefs in their service too. So, I never got around to learning the legends.” When no one broke the awkward silence that followed, Flint continued. “I was just about to start on the outer wall. It’s the first step in my life quest—”

“You told us the fae-girl had two beasts with them,” Mr. Mayor said, interrupting him. “Did you take care of the other one?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Mr. Mayor didn’t specifically ask whether he had killed the beast or not. In fact, they didn’t know what else had accompanied the fae girl. “I dealt with the matter.” Flint didn’t want to fib any more than he had to, so he changed the subject. “Thank you for bringing help, Miss Lya. It’s a lot for me to do alone. Additional builders will go a long way.”

“Don’t count your chickens yet,” the older woman said. She waved the older man who’d cut Flint off earlier forward. “Percy is the only builder we have in Lea’s Slumber. We’ve not needed anything more than repairs in years, you see—”

“They’re waiting for me to die so they can hand off my skill stone to someone more ambitious.” Percy wandered over to Flint’s new shelter as he spoke. He tapped the walls with his knuckles and felt around the smooth, seamless surface. After a raised eyebrow nod, he turned back to Flint. “I’m with Mr. Mayor on this one. We don’t need a life quester in Lea’s Slumber. Your quests will attract trouble. However, I can’t deny that you’ve done good work here. I don’t know how much my old bones can do, but I’ll help.”

Mr. Mayor stared daggers at Percy but was ignored. Percy walked around the building, checking every corner, and peeked in through the door. “The old builders didn’t think about winter when they built these structures. Snow collects on top and stresses the stones. Over time cracks form, water freezes in the cracks and expands, causing more damage.” He glanced around, looking for approval, but only Flint was listening. The rest were engaged in a hushed exchange. Percy sighed. “What I’m saying is, if I were you, I’d have made a sloping roof.”

“This is a temporary base, Percy,” Flint said, glad someone was finally speaking his language. “Over time, I intend to add a second level and add sloping roofs at differing angles. Then pucks and other agile fae will struggle to use them for their advance.”

“Smart thinking,” Percy smiled. “Make them face different directions too. It’ll be even more confusing for them as they change direction and elevation along the way.”

When Flint returned his attention to the others, Mr. Mayor, Jerome, and three of the group were already walking back down the hill.

“I’m sorry, Flint. It’s tough retraining an old dog. Perhaps the stubborn fool won’t change his mind until he sees the good you’re doing for us.”

“Old-man Mayor won’t budge until we genuinely get attacked,” the remaining woman said. She rolled her eyes and shook Flint’s hand. “My name’s Twylip. I’m not a builder and have no plans of ever becoming one.” She took a step back and made a show of her body. “As you can see, I’m a young fat lady, and hard manual labor isn’t my game.”

She paused as if waiting for Flint to speak up, but he only smiled, waiting for her to continue.

“I have [Apothecary] in my [Control Node] and [Herbalism] in the [Aura Node]. However, since I’m the old apothecary’s bastard daughter, no one is willing to train me. Books have been faring me just as well, and I need somewhere to work. The pass is full of rare herbs, mushrooms, and flowers which my asshole father and half-siblings are too cowardly to pick. Let me work here, use the soft patches for growing, and I’ll provide you with salves, ointments, and whatever you or the dog might need.”

“I appreciate the offer, Twylip, but it’s not going to be safe around here,” Flint said. He marched over to the [Totem of Healing] and ran his fingers over the glowing green. “One of my class abilities helped me construct this, and it casts a healing aura over the area. We don’t need an apothecary right now—”

“Just relying on an aura in a small area is foolish, Flint,” Twylip replied. “Fine. What if I move into the fort up top and set up the garden you want? [Herbalism] extends to rearing plants, and Miss Lya has taught me well. I’ll make enough to feed us and more by the week’s end. Nutritious food will help you and your dog.”

“Fine.” Flint sighed, turning to the last of Miss Lya’s conscripts. He had a full beard and a large belly, but his bulging arm muscles strained his shirt. “What about you, friend? Are you not a fan of manual labor either?”

“That’s Adam,” Miss Lya said. “He doesn’t talk—we think. He’s the blacksmith’s third son, though. Two smiths are enough for Lea’s Slumber. He and his brother have been doing nothing but smoking and drinking. I brought him down here hoping you could put him to work.”

“What skills does he have?” Flint asked, looking Adam up and down. He appeared to carry a fair bit of strength, but his angry eyes filled Flint with doubt.

“He’s got [Smithing] in his [Power Node] at the fifth rank, and [Hammer Play] in his [Control Node] at first rank. Adam defeated an Iron Army soldier in a drinking game and took it as his prize. His father, our blacksmith, isn’t happy that he absorbed the stone instead of giving it to the family. Maybe if you put him to work, he’ll get some use out of it.”

All three volunteers looked like liabilities to Flint. However, he was a beggar and not a chooser. So, he bit his tongue and shook their hands. “Thank you,” he said. “Let’s hope we can inspire more people to join and help us out.”

“I’ll head back to town,” Twylip said. “I’ll return tomorrow with my equipment and find a nice spot to set up.”

“It’s for the best if we all head home and leave Flint to carry on—”

“Go on without me,” Percy said, cutting her off. “We need to talk, builder to builder, and see what this quest is all about.”

13

Flint wanted to tear his hair out after half a day with Percy. It was mid-afternoon, dusk was a couple of hours away, and they had made decent progress. Percy appeared to know the ins and outs of building; however, he was one of the most annoying people Flint had ever met. Flint initially thought the man’s constant interruptions were a reaction to Mr. Mayor’s hostile attitude, but he soon discovered that it was an ingrained habit.

“Your fancy use of [Shape] is good, but what’s the point of [Bind]?” Percy asked while Flint was explaining his plan of making the ramparts broad and sloping. “It’s a waste of energy. Patch the holes and move onto fixing the fort. That’s the real prize. Once that’s done, you can work on everything in between.”

“Focus on the matter at hand, Percy,” Flint said, clenching his jaw. He tapped the block in front of him with a hammer, trying to ease it into a tight gap. “A sylph scaled the wall without issue—”

“Well, they’re air-attuned fae.” Percy interrupted him once again. “You could make the wall twice as tall, and they’d still find a way over. The strongest of them can stand on air—”

“But the creatures they bless with wind can’t! I saw them in action. The sylph blurred at times, moving in bursts of blinding speed. On the other hand, the bear was just faster. It was like the beast had a tailwind—”

“I’ve seen it. Sylphs solidify the air under their feet to turn them into stepping stones. No wall is going to stop them.”

“Percy, can you shut up?” The words slipped out of Flint before he could stop himself. He’d spent hours holding his tongue, and his frustration refused to stay in. He wanted nothing more than to smash Percy’s face in. “Can you let someone else speak for once? By the Iron Legion, Percy, I can’t get a thought out without you interrupting me. Are you even listening, or are you stuck in your own monologue?”

Percy dropped the stone block he was holding. It fell twenty feet and bounced off the hard ground before coming to a rest. One of its corners chipped, and a stone fragment went skipping along the floor, but it was otherwise undamaged.

“Listen here, Flint,” Percy yelled, getting in his face. “I’ve been at this longer than you’ve been alive. You’ll listen to me if you know what’s good for you. Wasting time on the outer defenses is pointless.” He pointed at the fort standing at the top of the pass. “The fort up there is the real prize. Once we get that functional, no fae will get through the pass.”

“That might be so, but it’s not what we’re doing! We need to ensure the outer defenses are solid before moving that deep into the fort. It might be near-impenetrable, but it’s the final defense between the village and the enemy. If they breeze through everything without any challenges or losses, then they have a city worth of space to stage their siege!”

Flint inhaled and exhaled loudly, forcing his heartbeat to slow down. “You need to understand, Percy, this is my life quest. The Heartstone agrees with my plan. We’ll fix it all up eventually, but the outer defenses need to go up first. You might have been at this longer than me, but I fought the enemy two weeks ago. I built the defenses and cut down puck soldiers on the walls. Sometimes it’s not about keeping them out but slowing them down. If we can thin out their numbers, that’s a huge advantage—”

Percy climbed down the rope and off the wall. He turned his back to Flint and started walking uphill. “I’m doing this for Miss Lya, not you. It’s a shame your parents—matrons—didn’t teach you to listen to your elders.” Percy looked back at Flint, scrunched up his nose, and spat on the ground. “I’m going to go work on the fort—not for your life quest, but because that’s the real prize! When you come to your senses, come find me.”

For the first time in his life, Flint felt like bricking someone. He had never met anyone so stubborn and egotistical in his life. On second thought, Captain Ironheart was no different. There were others in the Iron Army’s hierarchy too. However, none of the builders had any expectations of them to start with; the Iron Army’s code of conduct forced them to be somewhat bearable. Percy had demonstrated a decent level of competency, though. Flint had gotten his hopes up, and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

On the bright side, he had fixed what remained of the old wall. Percy had rarely used [Shape] like Flint nor unlocked [Bind] when the Heartstone offered the ability. So, he had focused on placing new blocks while Flint created them or adjusted the fit on others. Now, he had close to two hundred stone cuboids ready but no more energy to move them.

Flint was considering calling it a day when he heard a soft whine. Much to his surprise, Maya and Bjorn were outside the walls. The pair had either found a way to scale them or used a hole Percy had since patched. It was a good thing Flint had used the rubble used for the barricade to make most of the blocks. The gate into the fort was no longer barricaded.

The hidden mechanism sat within a false section of the four-foot-wide wall. Percy claimed it required three grown men to turn the pulley’s crank, but [Builder’s Brawn] let Flint operate it alone. It took him a couple of minutes to get the old machines moving and much longer to make the gate budge. Flint cracked it open wide enough for the two dogs to pass through before closing it again. It amazed him how seamlessly the entrance disappeared into the wall. He guessed the old builders had used [Bind] to make it all look like one piece, then used expert craftsmanship to disguise the gate. Flint didn’t have the confidence to replicate their work, so he decided to leave the exterior’s lower half untouched. It wouldn’t take long before the elements made the entire structure look derelict once again.

The dogs entered the fort’s grounds carrying their catches in their mouths. Bjorn had caught a brown hare almost a third his size. Flint didn’t think the local wildlife could get that big. Meanwhile, Maya held two long-necked water birds. Flint hadn’t spotted any rivers during the journey and couldn’t begin to fathom where she found her prey. Maya looked at him with her ears back and tail wagging. He felt her pride through their empathic bond.

On the other hand, Bjorn still didn’t look him directly in the eye. Even though his tail didn’t wag, it didn’t hang between his tail either. It stood pointing toward the sky, showing off its fluffy magnificence. He sensed pride through the link too. The rage and fear in Bjorn were mostly gone. However, he still carried a degree of uncertainty.

When Maya dropped her kill, Bjorn watched hesitantly as Flint picked up the two birds. He gave them a once-over before petting her. “Good job, girl,” Flint said. Goosebumps rose on Flint’s arms when Bjorn copied her. He chuckled and kneeled to scratch him behind the ears, but it was no surprise when the snow dog shied away. Flint knew it was too much to ask, but when Bjorn met his eye line for a moment, he grinned. It was better than nothing.

After giving the kill a once-over, he carried the corpses back to camp while the dogs followed him. He had wood left over from the night before. Flint started a fire and worked on feathering the birds. Even though he was exhausted and Percy had driven him up the wall, he felt content. The life quest wasn’t a part of Flint’s dreams, but he, at last, had the peace he wanted. Sooner or later, more Wyld would attack, but he didn’t have to spend his time around people constantly preparing or talking about war.

Flint used [Shape] to create a large stone pot and placed it over the fire. He used Bjorn’s water bowl to fill it with water from the stream before tossing in the root vegetables from Miss Lya’s garden. Some spices would’ve gone a long way, but all he had was a block of salt. He shaved some of it into the pot, and once the water came to a boil, he tossed the bird meat in. Darkness fell before the food was ready. The steam rising from the pot carried the ingredient’s freshness. It was unlike anything the Building Division enjoyed—despite their importance to the Iron Army, they always received the last lot of supplies after everyone else had their pick.

Just as Flint was about to take his first bite, a loud whine sounded from the two dogs. He knew it wasn’t from Maya. When he first got her, she’d jump at him while he tried to eat. The pup would try to steal food off his plate or paw at him. It took months of training before she learned to wait until it was her turn. As a rule, he’d serve Maya her meal after he was halfway done with his. Then he’d add scraps from his plate for good behavior.

It was likely the fae had treated her animal companions differently. As Bjorn sat patiently, shifting his weight from paw to paw, Flint guessed he hadn’t always been fae-touched. The snow dog’s eyes darted between him, the bowl of steaming stew, and the dead hare. Flint guessed that Bjorn must’ve been an ordinary dog once upon a time, perhaps a stray. He neither behaved nor moved like most of the beasts that accompanied the fae. The Wyld had turned him and used him as a weapon.

Flint realized that training Bjorn the same way he taught Maya wouldn’t be possible. He’d need to meet the snow dog halfway to build the bridge between them before setting rules. So, he took his knife and chopped the hare carcass in two before throwing a half to each of the dogs. Maya dug into the meal, but Bjorn watched him hesitantly.

“Go on,” Flint said. He didn’t just use a soothing tone but also pushed calming colors toward Bjorn. Flint had read and shared his feelings before, but it was the first time he had tried to influence anyone else’s. “It’s fine. I’m not going to hurt you, Bjorn. Eat your fill so you can recover your strength.”

The snow dog took a couple of minutes, his eyes darting between Flint and Maya before he started on his dinner. Unlike Maya, he took his time with the food. After tearing off a chunk, he’d chew, swallow, look around, and then continue. The snow dog appeared much more cautious during his meal than Maya.

Did he have to compete with the bear for food?

Bjorn was finally beginning to show his personality, and Flint couldn’t be happier. He wanted to pet the dog, stroke his fur, and assure him everything would be okay. Even though they hadn’t spent much time together, Flint was starting to develop a liking for the dog.

“One step at a time,” he reminded himself.

After dinner, when Flint entered his shelter, both of his canine companions followed him. Maya curled up by the bedroll, but Bjorn stretched out by the opposite wall. As he settled in for the night, Flint hoped Adam had whatever ability blacksmiths used for their forever-burning forges. It would prove invaluable for their firepits. A strength enhancement ability would make him a valuable worker too.

Percy—the one with the highest potential—had turned out to be useless. He hoped the other two would turn out better. Even though Flint felt content where he was, the daunting task ahead of him birthed a glimmer of doubt in his mind. The class wasn’t enough. If the Wyld’s forces approached the Sleeping Fort, Flint and two dogs weren’t enough to defeat them. He desperately needed more people and resources. He prayed to whoever was listening that more people from Lea’s Slumber would aid him.

14

An invisible force pulled Flint out of his slumber. He was pleased to find Bjorn curled up next to Maya by his feet. The snow dog raised his head to look at him for a moment before tucking his nose back into his tail and closing his eyes. Unwilling to disturb the two, he eased himself out of the bedroll and picked up his trousers, coat, and boots before exiting the stone shelter.

The sun hadn’t appeared over the Verdant Plains, but its first rays still colored the sky pink and orange. Flint took a moment to admire the beauty before turning his attention to the invisible pull. It didn’t take him long to see a light pulsing among the buildings below him; he identified the rainbow colors as the Heartstone straight away.

Flint relieved himself and washed up before getting clothed, making a point of burying his waste with dust before heading downhill. After completing his work on the outer wall, Flint planned on investigating the fort’s sewage system. A settlement of its magnitude was bound to have something of the kind. As far as he knew, humankind had discovered the importance of sanitation centuries before the last war. Improper hygiene attracted vermin and disease after all. They didn’t want to give the fae more weapons to cull their numbers.

The stone monolith hummed as Flint approached it. He wasn’t sure why it was summoning him. He hadn’t yet completed either objective. The quest didn’t ask him to raise the walls. It only required him to restore them and add deterrents. Flint believed his plans for the ramparts were sufficient. That only left one another possibility. So, he excitedly pressed his hands against the ancient stone and communed with the Heartstone.

A golden glimmer surrounded the pedestal and the ancient tome above it. In the Heartstone’s endless whiteness, it reminded him of the Church of Iron’s depictions of God: a gray-haired smith. All the art depicted him surrounded by a burning forge’s glow as he stood over an anvil, forging a disk much like the one they lived on.

Ink seeped through the open page as Flint approached it and words formed soon after.

[Class Quest]

You have completed the first objective.

A new light blossomed on the Node Compass’s surface between [Kennel Master] and [Pack Leader]. When Flint focused on the [Aura Node], words appeared on the pages to enlighten him.

[Pack Leader]

[Aura of Entangling Fur] > [Aura of Entangling Fur I]

[Soul Link] > [Soul Link I]

[Guide Growth]

While a [Kennel Master] grows in power, his hounds need to as well. Guiding their development is an essential tool in his arsenal. Commune with your hounds like you would a Heartstone and mold their compass in whatever manner you desire. Guide them toward higher stages of existence.

The description didn’t tell him a lot, but it was better than nothing. Helping Maya, and eventually, Bjorn, become more powerful would improve his odds when facing the Wyld’s forces.

When the [Power Node] glowed, he scanned it too.

[Defensive Construction V]

[Builder’s Brawn V]

[Shape III] > [Shape+ III – Compression and Extraction specialization]

[Reinforce IV]

[Architecture II]

[Bind II] > [Bind III]

[Totem of Nurture]

[Totem of Healing] > [Totem of Healing I]

The growths were a welcome surprise. While [Shape] hadn’t gained a rank in several years due to his sparing use of the ability, the specialization was a welcome change. A handful of veteran builders boasted unique improvements to their [Reinforce] ability, but he had never seen specializations for any other [Building] active abilities. Flint assumed the upgrade to [Defensive Construction] had something to do with the change. It was most likely all the digging and creating blocks out of the rubble that had done it.

Flint had picked [Bind] on upgrading [Building] to the fifth rank. His superiors had told him it was a stupid pick. Its use was much too situational, and there were better options for one of Iron Army’s builders. Flint had justified to himself that he didn’t intend to spend his life working for them. He hadn’t had the opportunity to train the ability until he started his life quest, and the fact that it had finally gained a rank pleased him. [Totem of Healing]’s swift growth put a smile on his face too. Flint hoped the other active abilities would gain specializations as well to make his life easier.

[Class Quest]

Upgrade your hounds to the next stage of their existence.

Reward: A choice of three skill stones and instinctual knowledge of its use to its user.

The reward made Flint’s heart skip a beat. He had heard that life quests and classes were a vital source of rare skill stones. Most people relied on inheritance, beasts in the deep wilds, or the monsters residing in the tunnels and bridges between disks to find them. War was an excellent source of them too. However, there was no guarantee that a killed soldier or civilian would drop their skill stones at death. Scholars believed there was a matter of will involved, and the Iron Church regulated research on such subjects. He hoped the Heartstone would give him something worthy of his one empty node. Otherwise, he’d trade it with the residents of Lea’s Slumber for resources.

Flint sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening after releasing the Heartstone. The Iron Church’s blacksmith had always felt like a silly deity, but he didn’t dare think about it while in the army. When he first enlisted, one of the older builders had told him to watch his thoughts. There was no telling who was listening in on them. Flint wasn’t sure whether the man was joking or if there genuinely were skill stones that granted such abilities. Getting punished for blasphemy would result in a whipping, so he tried his best to hide his doubts. Now he wasn’t sure anymore. The only godly figure he knew that had any positive influence on his life was the Heartstone. So, he thanked the stone before returning to his camp.

The dogs were drinking out of the stream when he got back. Maya came running to him with her tongue out and tail wagging. Flint dropped to his knees and embraced his beloved friend before channeling [Guide Growth]. He felt the same sucking feeling as with the Heartstones. Instead of an endless sea of white, he found himself standing atop a grass-covered hill. A pedestal stood in front of him with a large disk atop it.

Upon closer inspection, Flint realized that it was another node compass. However, there were no holes. [Power], [Control], [Mind], and [Aura] sat in their usual positions. Meanwhile, lines connecting the halfway point between each node to the compass’s center, forming a cross. It divided the shape into four wedges, and tinted sand sat in each division. They mostly gathered around the center and splayed out toward the nodes.

Flint didn’t quite understand the structure’s purpose and reached for a pinch of green sand in [Control]’s wedge. His fingers went through the substance, and he only felt the cold stone underneath. As he ran his fingers along the surface, he felt deep grooves forming circles at regular intervals heading away from the center.

It took Flint a moment to hypothesize what everything meant. The unequal quantities of sand likely signified Maya’s prowess in each category. Meanwhile, the grooves represented her “stage of existence.” The sand in [Control] and [Mind] sections were almost at the first groove, while [Power] and [Aura] were far behind.

As understanding took root, a hand-sized pitcher appeared in the circle’s center. Flint wasn’t surprised when he found white sand within it. Curious to discover what would happen when the sand reached one of the grooves, he trickled the vessel’s contents into the [Control] section. The tinted sand grew in volume but didn’t move toward the line straight away. He only saw a hair of movement at the halfway point.

Before dumping everything in the section, Flint stopped himself. The Heartstone wanted him to learn through experimentation, but he refused to toy with Maya’s existence. She was precious to him. There was no telling what would happen if he dedicated everything to one section. Flint thought of the overly muscled men with limited mobility. They were strong warriors but moved slowly and often died early due to heart complications. The speedy ones were another extreme and were as fragile as they came. So, he divided the rest of the sand between [Power] and [Mind]. The former didn’t display any change, but the latter moved a touch more than [Control] even though it got less.

“It’s because you’re a clever girl, isn’t it, Maya?” He smiled to himself, putting the pitcher down. It disappeared, and the white sand glowed for a second before adopting the surrounding grain’s colors. When nothing else happened, Flint let go and returned to reality. Maya licked his face as he let go.

Flint whistled and waved at Bjorn to come closer. The snow dog stared at him, his tail swishing from side to side slowly. Then he turned away and walked off toward the fire pit’s remains. Flint refused to force his affections on the dog and left him alone. The sun was up, and he had a lot to do.

15

By lunchtime, Flint was too exhausted to move his arms, and his knees felt like they were made of jelly. Due to the surplus of stones, he didn’t have to waste energy on [Shape], but moving stones to the top of the wall, placing them, and then using [Bind] drained him considerably. The ability’s rank increase appeared to have expanded its radius by half, giving him more control over what he could join within the ability’s range. It made life much easier.

The wall gained three feet in height, and the stairs leading up its side received some much-needed love too. Flint started on the ramparts but ran out of blocks and didn’t have the energy to create more. After facing the pucks, Flint designed the new wall to counter their climbing and jumping abilities. The platform at the top of the wall would jut out over the exterior by four feet and have holes in it for people at the top. As a result, climbers would have to face arrows or tar to their faces as they climbed before struggling with a large overhang.

To make life even harder, Flint planned on having triangle-shaped ramparts with rounded exterior corners and sides. He hoped it would function as an additional challenge for climbers and their grappling hooks. Hopefully, the Heartstone would consider it a sufficient deterrent and deem the objective complete.

Before heading down, Flint sat atop the walls, whistled, and took a moment to take in the view. The Choking Cliffs—a local name for the cliffs on either side of the pass—perfectly framed the Verdant Plain’s green expanses beyond. When he’d dreamed of life after the Iron Army, he’d never imagined living with such a landscape at his doorstep.

Just as he was about to whistle again, Flint spotted movement in the green. The tall grass parted, and Maya appeared running much faster than she could the day before. Her speeding limbs left a cloud of dust in their wake. If that weren’t enough, she was carrying a deer more than half her size in her mouth too, which meant her top speed would be much faster than any ordinary dog’s.

It took much longer for Flint to spot Bjorn. Maya was almost at the gates by the time he appeared, trotting at a relaxed pace. The dog dragged another deer next to him. Flint laughed. The pair must’ve had a ball while he toiled away. Given their take, he hoped they wouldn’t have to leave the fort’s grounds for a few days.

Once Bjorn caught up to Maya, Flint returned to ground level and let the pair in. His muscles and back protested as he worked the mechanism. When Adam joined him working the crank, Flint almost jumped out of his skin. He looked over his shoulder to find Twylip watching the pair with her hands on her hips. She nodded at him before turning her attention to the dogs as they entered. Both tails took off once they saw the new faces.

While Maya greeted both of them, Bjorn went straight up to Twylip. He let her scratch his ear for a moment before heading toward camp. On the other hand, Maya waited until the gates were closed and all of them had started their journey uphill before approaching Twylip. Observing the difference between the two, he wondered whether there was more to Bjorn’s suspicions of him than he thought. It was likely the dog preferred women to men. Time would tell, and he firmly believed it was a hurdle he’d eventually cross.

“I can help you with the gate, you know,” Twylip said as they walked uphill.

“I didn’t realize you had any strength-enhancing abilities,” Flint replied, trying his best not to let his exhaustion show. “Believe me, mine is at the fifth rank, and it’s still a struggle.”

“No, dumb dumb.” She chuckled. “The mechanism is old, and whatever alchemical treatment the ancients used has faded. I don’t have the [Alchemy] skill stone, of course, but I could try whipping up oil to lubricate the mechanism.”

“That would be lovely, Twylip—”

“Call me Twy,” she said, smiling at Flint. “Just to let you know, Percy spent all of yesterday evening at the pub telling everyone how you have no respect for your elders. Apparently, working for the Iron Army has inflated your ego.”

“I expected as much.” Flint sighed. “It wasn’t my best moment. He kept cutting me off and challenging my plans despite my recent experiences. I lost my anger and gave him an earful.” Flint massaged his neck, turning his eyes to the ground. “I bet that ruined my chances of getting more help.”

“Maybe among people his age, but my friends and I think it’s about time someone put him in his place. We hate Percy. He’s rude, belligerent, and only wants to hear himself talk. Believe me, it won’t be long before others come over to help you.”

Twylip stumbled on a crack in the ground, and Adam was immediately there to assist her. She thanked him before continuing.

“My generation has spent too long doing nothing. Lea’s Slumber is too far from other settlements for us to move, and there’s nothing to do. We’re small and self-sufficient. The older folk have highly levelled skill stones, and there are only so many apprentices they’re willing to take on.” Twylip looked at Adam for reassurance, and the larger man shook his head. “There’s just no work. Most of them live with their families, drinking, smoking, and wasting away. Sooner or later, they’ll see there’s more to do here, and they’ll turn up at your doorstep.”

“I can’t imagine having nothing to do. Why would Lea’s Slumber cut itself off from the world?”

“Well, we’re too far away to maintain trade routes,” Twylip answered. “We used to mostly supply the Iron Army contingency just outside the pass and in the Verdant Plains. They’ve been pulling away from our edge of the disk for years. The surplus of product and manpower has just been growing. It’s depressing, really. I’m one of three practicing apothecaries in Lea’s Slumber, and as a bastard, I mostly take care of people who can’t afford my father or half-brother’s services. If it weren’t for my grandmother, I wouldn’t have [Apothecary] at all, and Miss Lya helped me out with [Herbalism]. If the army didn’t leave, I was hoping to join them and perhaps look into getting an [Alchemy] skill stone.”

“If one of my life or class quests offers me the stone, I’d be open to picking it for you,” Flint stated. “That’s given we get along and can set up a contract of sorts.”

“That would be great!” She exclaimed. Twylip’s eyes widened, and an ear-to-ear smile spread across her face. Flint noted how she had exceptionally straight teeth like Miss Lya. He didn’t know about Adam since he hadn’t opened his mouth, let alone cracked a smile since they met. As he thought about it, Flint realized the two women had eyes carrying the same hazel shade. “I’d happily sign a twelve-year employment contract if it got me [Alchemy].”

Flint stopped himself before telling her six years would be sufficient. The Iron Army handed out second-tier skill stones for six-year terms, but it was mostly high performers that received them for their third or fourth terms. He guessed twelve years was the standard outside the army. It didn’t matter either way. He’d need to find additional skill stones first and then need to find someone capable of putting together a binding contract.

“Where will you be sleeping?” Flint asked as they approached his camp. “If you give me a couple of hours, I can make you a small cottage or add an extension to my structure.”

“I’d rather not.” Twylip looked Flint directly in the eye. “That’s how my father ended up with a bastard.” Her statement got a laugh out of Adam. It was a loud guffawing cry much too high-pitched for someone with Adam’s build or beard. Twylip chuckled in response, and Flint couldn’t help but join in. “Anyway, the fort has plenty of empty rooms, and I bribed Percy to empty a couple of them for me. It’ll be easier for me to manage the gardens from there.”

“What about you, Adam?”

The bigger man grunted and pointed at a monstrous wagon standing by the [Totem of Healing]. Wood, stone, and unfamiliar tools sat piled high atop it.

“Looks like he brought materials for his own home,” Twylip said. She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Flint. “Keep an eye on his forge. Adam’s Pa kicked him out of their workshop and had him work in the ruins of their old one. I don’t know what he did, but rumor says he makes the strangest of contraptions that often get people hurt.”

Flint didn’t know what to make of her statement. He wasn’t one to give rumors much attention, but Twylip and Miss Lya didn’t give him a particularly positive impression of Lea’s Slumber. The more he heard about the village, the more he wondered whether the Heartstone was pulling his leg.

Can a settlement of petal smokers and drunks birth a champion?

Flint shook the doubts out of his head. His new helpers probably had a rough start in life, but he did too. The Iron Army and Maya had helped him find a purpose and a fresh start. Perhaps Twylip and Adam needed the same. Flint hoped he could give them the opportunity they needed, and together they’d inspire Lea’s Slumber.

Adam had brought sandwiches for the trio. They sat down to eat together, and Flint told the pair about his life quest and how he hoped to improve the fort. It still felt too early to divulge the bit about the champion, so he stayed away from the topic. When Bjorn started whining for food, Flint gave the dogs half the leftover stew from the night before. There was still enough remaining for one meal divided between the three of them, and he believed the vegetables would be good for the pair. If not for Twylip, he would’ve given them one of the deer.

“I’ll skin them for you,” she had said. “My no-good father refused to house me, so I grew up with my maternal grandparents. My grandad is a tanner and will make quick work of them.”

Flint guessed Twylip was trying to please him. Even though his empathic sense didn’t work on humans, he could feel her desperation. Twylip wanted to make something for herself and become more than just the village apothecary’s bastard. Flint was her ticket out of her father’s shadow, and he respected her drive. As long as she proved herself trustworthy, he was happy to help her on her journey.

After the meal and a short rest, Flint felt restored. However, the [Totem of Healing]’s light was now barely glowing. It wasn’t a permanent skill, as he had initially guessed. The structure was invaluable, though, and he now had more people who could benefit from it, so he created a new one. Instead of using the pillar again, he used the ability on the new hut.

This time, the ability cut off before he ran out of energy. The vines and leaves shone brighter as they spread over the walls and wrapped around the structure. Emerald light pulsed from it, washing over the camp. Everyone looked refreshed, but Flint still felt worn out. He had plenty of energy left, so he didn’t call it a day yet. Instead, he helped Adam sort through the untidy load on his cart.

Adam’s silence put him at ease. The man managed to express himself with facial expressions and body language, getting across his thoughts with gestures instead of words. It was like spending time with Maya or Bjorn. It turned out Adam had brought an entire smithy with him. Flint guessed Adam had used his monstrous strength to dismantle the old workshop. After taking inventory of everything he had and what needed building, Flint put together a quick plan and had Adam ignite the fire pit in his hut.

“We’re not making a permanent base here,” he told Adam. “Unless the Heartstone instructs otherwise, I hope to make the fort my home and base of operations. Why don’t you join Twylip up there and help me during the day? It will let you stay close to the village and find a decent spot for the smithy.”

Adam nodded and set about pulling the heavy cart uphill. Flint felt terrible about making him drag the vehicle back uphill and offered to help, but Adam shook his head.

“Join me after sunrise, then? I’ll need your help finishing the wall. Then we can build a proper smithy for you.”

Adam grunted, shook his head, and disappeared into the ruins. Not long after his departure, Twylip finished butchering the meat.

“I’d advise smoking it,” she said. “Miss Lya probably sent down the spine-apple leaves we use for steaming and roasting. Wrap the joints in them and leave them close to the smoke. They won’t just last longer, but you can expect a sweet, nutty flavor to them too.”

Twylip washed the meat before conjuring an odd pink mixture out of her belt pouch. “Can you shape a little smokehouse by the fire?” She asked, coating the meat in the grainy powder. “Adam can use his abilities to help the fire last nearly forever.”

“I’ve never built anything of the sort that would last forever.”

“It’s just a closed building where you can hang meat near a fair deal of smoke but away from the heat.” Twylip pointed at a cleared patch between Flint’s shelter and the pool. “That’s the perfect spot for it.”

Flint had the blocks to spare. Despite his fatigue, he followed her instructions and constructed an eight-foot-tall, rectangular structure. He made the walls four feet wide and joined two sloping slabs on top to form the roof. By the time he finished, Twylip had wrapped and trussed the venison, forming large packages. They left the fires unlit since the mixture needed a while to do its work, and they didn’t have the right wood. Twylip promised to gather some for him before departing toward the fort.

Even though Flint hadn’t met his progress goals, he finished the day satisfied with the work he had done. Adam and Twylip lacked experience, but they were much better company than Percy. It would take a while, but he was confident they’d eventually do great things together.

16

It still smelled like nighttime when an uncomfortable feeling awoke Maya. She opened her eyes to find herself curled up between her human and Bjorn. They were both fast asleep and snoring—her human louder than Bjorn.

Maya wasn’t sure what had woken her up. Thinking it was just a dream, she didn’t move. Instead, the sheepdog took a moment to think about herself. With every passing sleep, her mind felt clearer and sharper. The old drives, wants, and needs were still there, but now it felt like she had more control. Everything felt more deliberate.

As Maya carefully crept out from between her two friends, she noted how different her body felt too. Initially, she had just felt bigger, and with it had come longer legs—Maya felt stronger and faster to match her new form. However, the change she had experienced the previous morning somewhat scared her.

When Maya had gone to sleep, she still felt like an ordinary girl. She was a very good girl to get her human food and not get lost in the endless grass, but still a normal girl. After Maya woke up from her last sleep, everything felt different. In fact, she wondered whether she was still a dog anymore. It wasn’t just that she found herself asking questions about the world that she had never asked before. Maya couldn’t tell whether she was the same good pup her human treasured.

When Maya first play-tackled Bjorn after the change, her poor friend had yelped and almost bowled over. He was still slightly bigger than her, but somehow despite her innocent intention, she had hurt him. After making sure he was okay, Maya didn’t feel the need to scarf it all down when her human gave her breakfast. Instead, she found herself appreciating the meat, the vegetables, and every single taste a little more. Her human called it flavor. He had asked Maya several times before whether she liked the flavor of a treat or snack, and she’d never understood what he meant before. After the last sleep, suddenly she got it.

The biggest surprise had come when she and Bjorn returned to the endless grass. Maya’s paws had carried her faster than ever before. At first, she was terrified when the world around her blurred, but then the love of the wind in her ears and tongue took over. The tastes and smells in the air were more distinct, and as Maya sped through the grass, she found herself capable of taking in more of it than ever before.

Poor Bjorn had struggled to keep up with her. His body was much too heavy, and his legs weren’t as powerful. However, Maya’s new friend hadn’t given up and chased her all day long. When she targeted a bigger game than the day before, he had joined in. The deer were too fast for Bjorn, but Maya had little trouble keeping up with them. Bjorn served his purpose by scaring the creatures and keeping them confused while she took down two of them.

While the herd ran, Bjorn gave in to the urge to chase after them, but she managed to suppress the desire to continue her pursuit. Instead, she had brought the prize back to her human, and Bjorn followed her example. Maya was a good girl. She knew the fact well—facts were another new thing she had learned. Facts weren’t what she believed but things that were always true. Her human was the best human she knew. That was a fact. The treats her human fed her when she got ill tasted terrible, but they made her feel better afterward. That was another fact. Either way, her human called her the best girl for bringing back two deer, and she couldn’t be happier.

Maya was drifting back to sleep once again when the previous discomfort returned. It hurt her ears deep inside but didn’t affect her human or Bjorn. She carefully crawled out of the home her human had built without making a sound. Maya stood still for a while, listening, and then the sound came again, confirming it was real and coming from the endless green outside the gates.

Before exploring, Maya lapped up a stomach full of ice-cold water and relieved herself in the corner where her human went. He had buried the mess for her when she forgot. It confirmed the fact that her human was the best human. There was no question about it.

Bjorn followed her out of the home and stretched. He opened his mouth in a wide yawn, and Maya smelled last night’s dinner on his breath. Even though she was tempted to get a closer sniff, she didn’t. Instead, Maya trotted downhill toward the wall her human was building, and Bjorn followed not long after. He nudged the side of her head with his own, and she licked his nose in response. Even though Bjorn was still scared of her human, he was a good boy. She wasn’t sure whether it was a fact, but Maya planned on making it one soon. Then they’d all get along as a pack.

As Maya approached the wall, the feeling of discomfort got more intense. Meanwhile, Bjorn still appeared unaware. It soon became clear that it was neither a sound nor smell that was bothering her. It was something else—something new.

When Maya picked up the pace, Bjorn made a yapping, almost human-like sound. She ignored the complaint. He had to run to keep up with her trot, but she was the best girl. Meanwhile, he was still only a good boy, so he had no choice but to follow her.

Once they arrived at the wall, Maya ran up the newly constructed stairs. Bjorn followed her warily, taking one step at a time. She didn’t understand his hesitation but didn’t give it much thought. The discomfort—more an annoyance now—got even stronger, and a moment’s scanning was enough for her to determine its source.

Four figures stood at the bottom of the slope where the tall grass started. Maya recognized two of the figures as the strange goat-men she and her human had fought not long ago. Unlike the attacking force, they didn’t wear ugly wooden armor, and their horns were much shorter. A short man with big feet and a long, blunt nose stood next to him. His ears stretched outwards from the sides of his head.

Maya wasn’t sure how she knew, but a single glance was enough for her to determine that none of the three were the source of her discomfort. It was the only woman among them. She stood shorter than the goat-men but taller than the big nose. If not for the odd feeling Maya got from her and the long, pointed ears that extended upwards instead of sideways, she’d look no different from a human. Then again, Maya had never seen a woman with skin as pale or hair as dark as hers. It looked like she was carved from the moon in the sky above.

Despite the distance, Maya could see her eyes clearly. They were initially a beautiful blue-gray. Then the woman saw Maya and her eyes shone with the same color as the moon. For a moment, Maya wondered what the moon was. She knew it was too high above her to reach, but could the woman possibly be from the moon? Or was the moon made of ladies like her?

Maya wasn’t too proud to admit that she didn’t know a whole lot, but it felt like people coming from the moon was a possibility. It was likely her human came from the moon too. For one, he didn’t age. She’d known him since she was a wee pup, had grown to full size, and been through several heats while with him by her side. Maya had felt her body develop and age.

Meanwhile, her human had barely changed. The hair on his face came and went, but his eyes, skin, and body didn’t seem any different from their first meeting. She had seen her human care for other dogs while they traveled. They aged and died, but he didn’t. It would make sense if her human came from the moon. After all, he was beautiful, like it.

By the time the strangers were halfway up the slope, Bjorn had made it to the top of the wall. He stretched again before joining her at its edge. The moment he saw the approaching people, his tail slipped between his legs, and the fur along his spine stood on its end. Maya sensed his fear the same way she often felt from her human. Bjorn appeared terrified. Her eyes darted between him and the strangers, and she was sure they were bad news. Her human needed alerting. So, she made the most logical move she could think of next. Maya turned her head to the sky and howled. Bjorn hesitated for a moment before giving himself a good shake. Then he joined in too.

A sliver of silver light shot past Maya’s head a moment later. She stopped her howl and lowered her head straight away. Moments later, another sliver came flying from the tall moon-skinned woman. The light embedded itself in the stone by her feet and stayed in place. Maya identified it as an object similar to the sticks her master fired from his toy. The one in front of her looked like someone had carved it out of moonlight. However, it didn’t have bird feathers on its tail like the others. He called them bolts. Bjorn barreled into her, making her stagger, and another one flew through where her head had been moments ago.

The strangers meant them harm. Hoping her human had heard her call, Maya followed Bjorn down the stairs into the streets below. A high-pitched whine sounded from his throat all the while. Maya got the feeling that Bjorn knew them and was terrified.

Metal clanged on top of the wall behind them. While Bjorn ran up the hill back toward her human’s shelter, Maya’s curiosity got the best of her. She slowed and looked behind them to find the moon-skinned woman floating in the air. Bright white wings spread from her shoulders, flapping gently. Then the goat-legged men joined her on top of the walls. The woman raised her hand as more bolts of light formed around her. Maya knew better than to stand around much longer and took off as well.

As she ran uphill, Maya heard strange words spoken behind her. She had heard such words before when the goat-men attacked her human. Then a high-pitched, nasally laugh sounded behind her. Not long after, two throaty bellows followed. Maya didn’t hear anything from the moon-skinned woman, though, but the uncomfortable feeling was still there. It had intensified when the bolts whizzed by her head and peaked when she saw the wings.

Then Maya heard clicks on the stone. It sounded like a horse landing after a short jump. The goat-men were within the walls, and the others wouldn’t be far behind. Maya slowed—she had already caught up with Bjorn and was keeping up with him without issue—and howled once again. Then she heard her human’s boots ahead. It wasn’t long before they encountered each other. He wore only a shirt, underwear, and boots, but he had his toy in hand with two bolts already sitting in it.

“What is it, girl?” Her human asked, falling to his knees. Bjorn stopped behind him, ears flat and tail still between his legs, but Maya knew she had to communicate with him. So, she thought hard of the goat-men, the big nose, and the moon-skinned woman with her wings out.

Her human winced, closing his eyes and clutching the side of his skull. Then he shook his head and smiled. “Thank you, Maya. You did well to get to me.”

A flutter sounded behind them, and the moon-skinned woman landed atop a broken house’s roof. The wings disappeared as she looked down at them, but the bolts floating behind her multiplied. The woman studied the three of them before speaking.

“Where is Cumula?” she asked. “Why does her hound cower behind you?”

17

“I don’t know a Cumula,” Flint answered, cursing himself for not getting clothed. He had groggily gotten out of bed after the first howl, urinated, and hydrated. Initially, he thought Maya was just howling at the moon with her new friend.

The second howl had snapped him alert, and the distant, alien-white glow told him something was different. Worried that Maya had gotten herself in trouble, he only found the time to pull on his boots and grab his crossbow before running. Since the bedroll got too hot with Maya leaning against him, Flint slept mostly in the nude. Now, as he stood in only a shirt and no pants, he had to focus on not letting his teeth chatter.

“Don’t lie to me, human!” the fae-woman hissed, and the bolts of moonlight rotated to point at Flint and his dogs. “My party’s Wyldmaster bound that snow dog to Cumula! Now he’s free, and she’s not here.”

When Flint heard hooves against stone, he knew they were in danger. The sound told him she had at least two pucks with her. The incline wouldn’t slow their movements as much as him. As far as he knew, they most likely saw better in the dark too. In a martial competition, they’d come out on top without question. They’d only survive if he found an area with decent cover and could ambush them one by one.

Flint had never heard of a Wyldmaster before. He guessed they were the pint-sized brownie mages that controlled the war beasts. Flint hadn’t seen pucks cast many spells besides the green arrows and the one shield caster. The few brownies he had sighted on the battlefield all appeared to outrank the pucks and either rode and commanded beasts or almost always wielded magic.

The chances of the woman having more caster companions were much too high as well. He needed to take cover soon, but he worried the fae would pepper him with bolts as soon as he moved.

“She’s dead.” The words just came out. While he racked his brain trying to figure out what to do next, his tongue had taken charge. He wrestled back control before continuing. “She lost control of her bear. As for the dog, he suffered an injury, and I fixed him—”

“You’re a liar,” the woman said, her words sounding as cold as ice. When she waved her hand at Flint, a trio of bolts broke off from the rest and shot toward him. He dove backward, dodging most of them. Two shattered on the stone where he’d stood a moment ago while the rest shattered on the stone. “Tell me the truth, or the next bolt will skewer your skull.”

“I’m telling the truth,” Flint answered. “I disarmed her and tried to start a dialogue, but she lost control of her bear. It came after me, and when I dodged, it crushed her head.”

Another set of bolts shot at Flint. This time he dove to the left, ducking behind a broken half-wall. The fae woman had spoken the truth. The bolts struck the stone inches from his skull. They didn’t shatter. Instead, the conjured projectiles embedded themselves in the stone, humming and radiating a chilling aura.

“You’re a murderer and an enemy of the fae.”

The final word alone could’ve sliced Flint and his pack in half. Soon after, a pair of loud bellows sounded behind the fae woman, followed by a nasally cackling. Flint didn’t wait to find out who the last call belonged to and scrambled deeper into cover. More bolts peppered the ground where he’d stood not moments ago. Maya followed, and Bjorn stuck to their heels.

The snow dog appeared much too shaken to help in combat. Given what he had just heard, Bjorn hadn’t willingly followed the sylph. Flint guessed that Wyldmasters had the power to bend a beast to their will forcefully. Perhaps they were the individuals that made ordinary animals fae-touched using a spell similar to [Guide Growth]. Either way, it meant there was a chance that if the person got a hold of Maya or Bjorn, they could turn either of them against him.

After a quick scan of their surroundings, Flint spotted a route to an area that could shelter them. A patch of the slope just downhill from the Heartstone hadn’t crumbled as much as the rest. While the roofs appeared undamaged, the walls along the ground level had several holes in them. The narrow alleys between the buildings and the opportunity to travel through them would give him plenty of cover. Hopefully, it would bring the moon mage down to ground level too.

The clip-clop of hooves had gotten closer, and the glow above suggested the woman was closing in too. So, he projected an image of the location through the empathic link to the dogs. He got a confirmation through Maya, but Bjorn’s fear clouded all other information. Hoping the snow dog would follow them, he took off, running uphill.

Flint heard the fae speak behind him as he ran. Among the pucks’ deep, throaty words, he heard one croaky, high-pitched voice too. It had a grating element to it. Flint guessed it was the Wyldmaster.

Maya ran several feet ahead of him but paused every now and then to check on him and Bjorn. Ever since [Guide Growth] had enhanced her physiology, her speed had increased dramatically. Flint believed it was the heavy investment in [Control]. She appeared more concerned for Bjorn than him, and Flint was glad. The big guy needed help. It went without saying that Maya was a good girl, and he intended to remind her of the fact once the fighting was over.

When white light illuminated the ground around him, Flint knew he was in trouble. He kicked off the ground and leapt forward. Moonlight bolts rained around him as he sprinted. One grazed his outer left thigh while another zipped past his armpit. The first stung, and he felt warm blood pouring down his leg, and while the other didn’t touch him, the skin felt cold and raw.

Worried that the woman would attack him again while he tried to get up, Flint flipped over, aimed his crossbow, and squeezed both triggers simultaneously. Much to his disappointment, the woman dropped before the bolts left the crossbow. Her moonlight wings had disappeared. Stepping-stones of similar solidified light formed under her feet. She used them to hop from one crumbling pillar to another. The five bolts following her disappeared while she moved, forming fresh footholds.

With her weapons dissolved, Flint knew he had a moment of respite. The clip-clop of puck hooves was close, so he got back on his feet and ran.

Bjorn had overtaken Maya as she slowed, waiting for him by an old wall. She barked once he caught up before taking off again. Flint’s lungs protested as he chased after her. He prided himself on his stamina, but the fall had ruined his breathing, and the wounds had his heart racing.

I shouldn’t have sent Adam to the fort.

There was no point in crying over spilt milk. So, he ducked behind a half-collapsed pillar and worked the crossbow’s crank. If he ever met the merchant again, Flint planned on commending him for the smooth action and brilliant design. Once the strings were drawn, he loaded two bolts. Less than a dozen remained, and he needed to make the most of them. Maya paused and barked at him from ahead, but he didn’t follow. Instead, he peeked around the corner, looking for pursuers.

The moon mage wasn’t in sight, but he spotted the two pucks. Instead of hardened bark and twisted-vine chest armor like the specimens from the siege, they wore tight-fitting leathers and hooded capes. It looked like a scout’s outfit. They were likely a forward party searching human lands for points of attack. Flint aimed at the axe-bearer first. The puck bowman wouldn’t be as significant a threat among the rubble-filled alleys ahead.

The puck leapt as soon as Flint fired the first bolt, leading him to believe the specimen had superior hearing. His goat-eared enemies could likely hear the crossbow’s trigger or the release mechanism. However, the beast couldn’t dodge midair and took the second bolt to the inner thigh.

An arrow skittered across the stones covering most of Flint’s body, and he ducked for a quick reload. The injured puck cried in pain as it landed noisily. Flint heard hooves skid on slanted stone and then an awkward thump. Scrambling followed, accompanied by another arrow. The bowman would need a second to draw his next projectile, so Flint leaned out of cover.

The injured puck sat on the ground clutching its thigh where the bolt had punctured deep. Judging by the growing pool of reflective wetness under him, Flint guessed he had punctured a major blood vessel. A bolt through the eye put the Wyld soldier out of his misery.

The other puck bellowed, and another figure rushed out of the shadows. Flint ducked as a black arrow wrapped in vines shot toward him. Unlike the moonlight bolts, it drilled into the stone above Flint’s head, showering him with sand and stone fragments.

Maya barked at Flint, but he told her to flee through the empathic link. A large expanse of open ground lay ahead. Flint worried Maya and Bjorn would get shot while exposed—he needed to cover their escape. However, the second he peeked out of cover, an arrow bounced off the stone next to his head. Even though it was just a glance, [Keen Eye] helped him get a good look at the attackers.

Flint confirmed his suspicions. The final member of their party was a brownie and probably the source of the conjured arrows. He had seen quite a few of them during the last attack. Initially, he thought they were helpers and servants, but as the creature leaned over the fallen puck with glowing green eyes, his assumption proved incorrect.

Wyldmaster!

The second puck fired another arrow, forcing him to stay hidden. The creature was covering the Wyldmaster. There was no telling what its magic could do. Flint worried the brownie would revive the fallen puck, so he reloaded his crossbow and dove out from behind the wall.

The first bolt missed both the enemies. Then he landed painfully on his injured leg and fired again. The second bolt failed to kill the brownie but struck its shoulder. A green flash emanated from the creature’s hands, and it screeched, recoiling. The brownie stumbled into the puck and knocked it over, making the next arrow go wide.

Flint’s stomach did flips as he saw thorny brambles burst from the fallen axe-carrying puck. They ripped through his body, destroying any chance of the Wyldmaster’s magic reviving him. They shredded the brownie’s left arm too. As it shrieked, the puck archer fired another arrow. Flint managed to roll away from it, scrambling to reload the crossbow.

Before Flint could fire again, a blinding flash made him falter. It was the moon mage. During the chaos, she had momentarily left his mind. Now, the woman appeared out of nowhere without making any sound. Her eyes glowed like the moonlight as she stood on the pillar he was initially using as cover. In fact, if not for her glowing eyes, he wouldn’t have seen her at all. A glistening white spear of pure light materialized in her hands, and she lunged, driving the weapon into his shoulder.

A pain-filled scream burst from Flint’s lips. It wasn’t just the implement that hurt but the immense cold emanating off the conjured weapon too. She might as well have driven an icicle into him. The pain spread to his chest as his heart struggled against the frigid temperature. Before she could retrieve her weapon, a white-and-brown blur barreled into the moon mage’s side. The force knocked her off him, and Flint screamed again as the spear went with her.

It was Maya. She had disobeyed his instructions and come to his rescue. Then Bjorn appeared, standing between him and the puck. He growled, baring his teeth, but his tail remained between his legs. Flint felt both dogs trying to communicate with him through the empathic link, but the pain was too much. He struggled to decipher their mess as he got to his feet.

Bjorn turned and ran as soon as Flint was up, occasionally looking back at him and whining. He followed, feeling light-headed as blood warmed the frostbitten skin around the newest wound. Maya brushed up against Flint’s leg, moving with him. She barked, and her ears stayed flat against her head. Unlike Bjorn, Maya’s tail remained straight and pointed toward the sky. It gave Flint hope. She was braver than both he and Bjorn put together. As long as he had his best friend with him, there was still hope.

18

By the time the trio reached the narrow alleys near the Heartstone, Flint felt sick and light-headed. He needed to lie down and rest, but it would result in Maya and Bjorn getting killed or worse. Flint hated the thought of the Wyldmaster taking control of either dog. When he faltered and stumbled onto his hands and knees, Maya stopped at Flint’s side and licked his face. A comforting warmth rushed through him, and suddenly he felt a lot better.

As Flint’s head cleared and he felt Maya’s concern, he realized it was [Soul Link]. The ability had drained him not long ago to save her life. Now, it sapped Maya’s strength to give him a push. Flint pushed Maya away. He didn’t want [Soul Link] to drain her too much. She and Bjorn would be vital for taking down their pursuers in the narrow alleys.

Flint regretted not taking the time to explore his new home better. All the ruins and the buildings appeared the same. Every time he spotted a decent hiding spot, he noticed a collapsed wall, chunk of missing ceiling, or a bigger fault that would leave them vulnerable. So he pushed despite the increasing pain in his joints and the numb extremities. The bolt in the crossbow’s top barrel had broken sometime during the moon mage’s attack. He removed the projectile and replaced it, trying his hardest to suppress his shaking limbs.

Bjorn yapped and spoke in his odd snow dog ways before slipping into a building to their right. Flint followed him in, and Maya secured their rear. Once inside, Flint collapsed on his bottom, panting. Despite his lack of clothing and the cold, sweat drenched his body. The wound on his left thigh had stopped bleeding, but the skin around it had turned black and blue. Flint had seen such marks before when building at high altitudes. The apothecaries called it frostbite. He didn’t dare check his left shoulder.

Flint undid his shirt and wrapped it around his still-bleeding wound. He had to bite down on the crossbow’s strap to keep himself from yelling. Maya whined, trying to get close to him.

“I don’t want [Soul Link] to drain you further, girl,” he whispered. Flint pointed at the hole they had used to enter the building. “Stay there and keep watch.”

Bjorn stood by the far wall, shaking. Flint couldn’t fathom what the brownie had done to him, but the bonding process must’ve been traumatic for the poor guy. He guessed it was enough of a bad experience to make Bjorn fearful of men. Yet the gorgeous canine hadn’t given in to terror and had covered Flint while he was down. Once it was all over—looking at the dogs, Flint refused to think of defeat—he planned on making it up to Bjorn and lavishing him with affection and meat.

Flint’s heart fell into his stomach as he counted his remaining bolts. Only five remained. The rest of them must’ve fallen out when he fell. To make matters worse, one’s shaft had suffered an ugly crack. Flint planned on saving it for last. Instead of letting himself get stressed out, he breathed in deeply and then exhaled through his mouth. The action slowed his heartbeat and calmed his racing mind.

“Bjorn,” Flint whispered. The snow dog looked up from his corner. “Come here.”

Bjorn didn’t obey. Instead, he stuck to the corner, keeping his head low. The oversized dog’s body trembled when the sound of hooves on stone reached their ears. The trio had followed their trail.

Flint wished he knew what they wanted. It made sense for the fae to attack an Iron Army encampment, but why would they come sniffing around a human settlement at the far edge of the disk? Lea’s Slumber was in a defendable position but had no other benefits. They couldn’t possibly know that the village housed the future Champion of Equilibrium. Given the state of the citizens, Flint doubted said Champion existed at all.

The puck and the brownie didn’t worry Flint. One had proven himself an incompetent archer, and the other only had one hand for casting its spells. Meanwhile, the moon mage had moved silently around the ruins and appeared out of nowhere. As Flint eyed the many hole-filled walls around him, he wondered whether her delay was due to needing time for her conjuration spells.

A stabbing pain pulsed through Flint’s skull as Maya sent him the puck’s image. He had an arrow nocked and the short bow partially drawn. Flint had missed the bandages covering his left arm too. That explained his horrid accuracy. Maya stalked away from the large hole as the hoof-steps got closer and joined Bjorn. Flint lay flat on the ground, angling his crossbow to point upwards, planning on puncturing the puck’s unprotected torso.

When the creature came into view, his emotions became clear to Flint. It was the proximity—a mixture of fear, concern, and rage filled the puck. Unlike last time, the sensation wasn’t muted. Flint felt the bubbling emotions much clearer than before. He wished he hadn’t. It made squeezing the crossbow’s trigger that much harder.

The puck’s form blurred when the crossbow clicked. He fell into a crouch, moving faster than Flint could see. Instead of flying upwards into the rib cage, the bolt skewered the neck. The puck’s eyes widened as it dropped the bow and arrow and clutched its throat. Panicked golden irises met Flint’s eyes as the puck scrambled, looking for something to grab. Anguish replaced anger, and blood leaked through the thick fingers.

Flint rushed to the puck on all fours. He exited the hole and pushed the beast onto the ground. After checking the roof above and either side for company, Flint straddled the creature, grabbed an arrow, and stabbed. There was no telling whether the brownie had used its Wyldmaster magic to recover or not. It could likely do the same to the puck. Flint needed the creature dead as soon as possible. His chest tightened when the puck didn’t fight back. He watched Flint wide-eyed, not reacting to the stone arrowhead opening holes along the collarbone, hands, and chest.

Eventually, the puck’s hand loosened, and blood flowed freely. He opened his mouth, and red poured from the opening too. Flint stopped stabbing and crawled off the puck, panting heavily. Moonlight shone from the alley’s mouth, and he knew they weren’t alone any longer. The mage ran at Flint, holding her spear while he scrambled to reload his crossbow. Maya came to his rescue once again. She barreled into the moon mage and pinned her to the ground. The sheepdog went for the throat straight away.

“Stop!” Flint yelled, and Maya froze with her fangs pressed to the moon mage’s skin.

When Flint heard a hissing and mumbling behind him, he spun around to find the brownie baring its square teeth. Green light surrounded its good hand as an arrow rapidly formed between them. When it flew toward him, Flint knew it was too late to dodge. The shoulder injury had slowed his movements too much, and even though he had already reloaded one barrel, his fired bolt wouldn’t stop the Wyldarrow. Then Bjorn appeared in front of him once again. He yelped as the projectile struck his flank. The sound hurt Flint’s ears and ripped through his heart. Flint raised the crossbow and fired it at the brownie, but the child-sized creature ducked around the corner.

“Don’t let her escape,” Flint said, groaning. He got to his feet and ran at the brownie. Green light shone around the corner, and Flint knew there would be a spell waiting for him, but rage fueled him. The brownie deserved to die for all the pain it caused Bjorn.

Flint removed his makeshift bandage as he ran. He could feel the light-headedness from blood loss sinking in. Fortunately, the pain from the wounds had dulled into aching throbs and didn’t plague him with the stinging and burning cold from before. The effects of the moon mage’s freezing conjurations had long faded. Then just as he reached the corner, Flint threw the shirt, blindly aiming it at the green glow.

The brownie grabbed at the shirt as it wrapped around its head. As Flint had hoped, the distraction busied its free, emerald-glowing hand. The lights faded while the brownie dealt with the fabric. Flint used the opportunity to knee it in the face. Something audibly cracked as the brownie staggered backward. When Flint pursued a finishing blow, his opponent whipped its injured hand at him.

“You foul d—” Coughs prematurely ended Flint’s words. He found his eyes and mouth full of dust. Worried the brownie would use the opportunity to cast another spell, Flint swiped blindly, trying to grab it. His hands found nothing. Then two thumps sounded from ahead. The first came with a crack, while the second reminded Flint of a sack of potatoes falling over.

Continued blinking and tears helped clear Flint’s vision. He found Adam’s titanic visage towering over him, carrying an oversized hammer. The big guy must’ve heard the howls or Flint’s screams. His arrival had likely saved their lives. It was too early to celebrate, though. Bjorn was hurt.

“Tie her up, Adam!” Flint sprinted to Bjorn, fell to his knees, and slipped his arms under the snow dog. He whined but didn’t struggle. The Wyldarrow had ripped clean through Bjorn’s torso between the chest cavity and abdomen. Flint prayed no organs were damaged. His shoulder protested as he picked Bjorn up carefully, but adrenaline and his concern for the snow dog helped push it all away. “You’re going to be okay, boy,” he said, maintaining a gentle tone. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” Bjorn weighed almost as much as Flint, but [Builder’s Brawn] didn’t fail him. It wasn’t a good sign, though, since it mostly activated for inanimate objects. “She’s a mage, Adam. Don’t let her talk or move her fingers. Bind her hand and mouth, if necessary, then bring her to my camp.”

Then Flint took off uphill, ignoring his body’s protests. Within a dozen steps, he no longer knew whether it was his own blood he felt on his arms or Bjorn’s. It didn’t matter. They both needed the [Totem of Healing] if they wanted to survive. [Soul Link] had provided Flint with a minor boost, but he could already feel it fading. After using the bandage to blind his opponent, Flint no longer had anything to bind his bleeding shoulder. The warmth dripped down his side and through his chest hair before adding to the redness spreading across Bjorn’s fur.

“It’s okay,” Flint whispered when Bjorn whined again. He looked over his shoulder, thinking they hadn’t covered any ground at all, but the Heartstone was already far behind them. “We’re almost there, Bjorn. You’re a good boy. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

Tears were streaming down Flint’s face when he heard the sound of running water. By the time he reached the pool, Bjorn’s breathing had slowed. Flint slowly lowered him to the ground and scooped up water in a stone bowl. Bjorn weakly lapped at it before placing his head against the ground. Flint’s heart took off like a speeding shadow cat as he took in the wound. He could see Bjorn’s rib cage. Another loud whine sounded through the camp as he poured water over the wound.

[Totem of Healing]’s green lights shone brightly next to the pair, but as tears clouded Flint’s vision, he couldn’t tell whether it was helping his newest canine friend. He raced into the cottage and fetched a chunk of apple. Bjorn showed no interest in it. The meat got similar reactions.

“Hold his mouth open!”

The voice almost made Flint jump out of his skin. Twylip kneeled next to him, carrying a large leather satchel. She opened it and pulled out a glass flask of bright-pink fluid. Bjorn didn’t put up a resistance when Flint pried his jaws open and lifted his head. Twylip poured the liquid straight down the back of Bjorn’s throat. At first, the liquid dripped out of the corner of his mouth, then he swallowed and coughed. After a moment, he drank some more and licked his lips. Relief washed over Flint as Bjorn’s eyes opened, and he whined again. It was going to be okay.

“It’s your turn,” Twylip said, pressing the flask into Flint’s hands.

“I’ll be okay.” He pushed her hands away. “Give it to Bjorn.”

“He’s had enough. Any more and he’ll get sick, making his condition worse. That totem of yours should get him the rest of the way. Now I need to fix you up before you bleed to death.” Twylip forced the flask on him again.

A soothing warmth spread through Flint’s body as he consumed the concoction. Honey and spices added flavor to the beverage, making it a pleasure to drink. Meanwhile, Twylip got out a pestle and mortar, along with several dried petals, herbs, and bark containers. Flint leaned against his glowing stone cottage and watched her work as the pain in his leg disappeared. Then his eyelids got heavy, and the shoulder discomfort dulled. He caught a glimpse of Adam and Maya in the distance before sleep took him.

19

Fever dreams haunted Flint’s slumber. He slipped between them and wakefulness full of shivers. Every time the nightmares or pain snapped him awake, Maya was there with her chin on his neck, keeping him warm. Her soft fur and body heat reminded him of the winter months in the orphanage when they’d all pile into one bed with their blankets to stay warm. If it weren’t for the tightness in his shoulder, Flint would’ve embraced Maya to get the most out of her body heat but had to settle for embracing her with one arm. The cuddling, eventually, helped lull him back to sleep.

The nightmares featured Flint standing atop the Sleeping Fort’s walls while a titanic army charged toward them. The troops didn’t just feature war beasts, brownies, and pucks, but iron-clad humans too. A man with golden wings floated above, and the Iron Council’s flag fluttered below. Then balls of fire rained down from the heavens, shattering the gate and the structures running up the slope.

In another terror-filled dream, Flint found himself facing off against several moon mages. The crossbow sat in pieces at his feet, and Bjorn lay nearby in a pool of spreading blood. Wyldarrows peppered his side, and Maya was nowhere in sight. Flint shouted her name desperately but got no answer. His empathic sense didn’t reassure him either. Then he’d wake up, shaking and drenched in sweat.

The bad dreams eventually ended, and Flint found himself in bed with the scholar he once courted. She was good to him, and they’d enjoyed each other physically. However, when Flint realized she was more interested in his social struggles than him, the relationship ended. The good times still made for good dreams, though.

When Flint finally woke up, Maya was no longer next to him. However, Bjorn had taken her place. The big lug of gray and white fur lay next to him, his massive snout tucked into his chest and a paw on his shoulder. The wound on his side had closed, leaving dark scarring in its place. Clumps of fur were missing too, but he could already feel tiny bristles budding in the bald spots. Flint couldn’t tell whether the [Totem of Healing] or Twylip had fixed him up, but he still owed her a big thank you.

As he lay still with Bjorn leaning against him, Flint took a moment to take account of himself. His leg felt as good as ever. However, an uncomfortable tightness tugged on his left shoulder as he tried to move. It was a stroke of luck the spear hadn’t ripped all the way through him. The moon mage had overestimated her reach. It had still hurt more than anything Flint had felt before. If not for the adrenaline coursing through his veins, it would have ended his life. Now it still hurt, but the pain had dulled considerably. Some of his nightmares had featured his left arm hanging limp at his side, shriveled and useless. When Flint wiggled his fingers, they worked.

Bjorn raised his head when Flint tried prying the arm free. The snow dog’s deep blue eyes met his before he leaned forward and licked Flint’s face. Smiles spread across both of their faces not long after. He’d been waiting for the kiss for several days, and now that he got it, all the pain and discomfort disappeared. Flint reached out for a hug, and Bjorn crawled into his arms. The snow dog rested his head against Flint’s shoulder, and their empathic link lit up with warming colors. Flint felt thankfulness, affection, and friendship.

“You’re a good boy, Bjorn,” he said. “Thank you for saving me back there.”

A soft whining sound escaped Bjorn as he shifted, making himself comfortable. It was as good of a time as any, so Flint scratched his newest friend behind the ears. Bjorn leaned into Flint’s hand as he channeled [Guide Growth].

Unlike Maya’s rolling green hills, Bjorn’s node compass sat in snow-filled plains. Flint spotted glaciers and frozen rivers in the distance and assumed it was the northern wastes from where Bjorn hailed. It didn’t look like a wasteland, though. He approached the ominous pedestal after taking a moment to take in his surroundings.

The node compass differed from Maya’s too. The shape and colors were identical, but the sand distribution wasn’t. Bjorn’s [Mind] section barely had a couple of grains in it. Meanwhile, red sand almost touched the first groove in the [Power] section. Bjorn’s strength and girth made sense. [Aura] wasn’t far behind, but [Control] left much to be desired. The pitcher of sand sitting at the compass’s heart was more than twice as big as Maya’s.

Flint poured sand into [Power] and watched as a quarter and then a third of the pitcher emptied without the red sand moving. He was almost at the halfway point when the sand touched the groove. Much to his disappointment, nothing happened. Nothing lit up, and there were no ominous chimes. Flint wanted to dump the rest in the [Aura], but he wanted Bjorn capable of dodging attacks too, so he divided the remaining sand between it and the [Control] section. The pitcher disappeared, and the white sand changed color to match [Control]’s green and [Aura]’s purple. Then [Guide Growth] ended, and he found himself cuddling with Bjorn again.

The empathic link felt stronger than before. When Flint looked into Bjorn’s eyes, he saw intelligence and understanding looking back at him. After a couple minutes of more scratching, Flint rose out of his bedroll. Clean bandages covered his wound, and he could feel a mass underneath it. He guessed Twylip had applied a poultice to it.

While the injured shoulder was still sore and tight, the rest of Flint’s body felt like it was ready for a day of work. His stomach rumbled, and Bjorn sat up next to him, tail wagging and tongue hanging out. Flint needed to check on Maya and the prisoner, so he got dressed and exited the shelter.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Twylip said, waving to him from the outside campfire. Large flat stones surrounded it, and a metal pot sat on top. Flint smelled venison and root vegetables in the air. “How do you feel?”

“Surprisingly, not at all like someone who got skewered,” Flint answered.

“Don’t be dramatic.” She laughed. “It might’ve felt deep due to the cold, but the spearhead didn’t get far past the surface. Bjorn, on the other hand, had a close call.”

“He’s a good boy.” Flint smiled, scratching the snow dog’s head as he stuck close to his heel. “Thank you. If not for you—”

“Don’t mention it. It’s why I’m here. Besides, I only cleaned you up and ensured nothing got infected. That magic light on the stone did most of the work.”

The vines covering the shelter were just as bright as the night before. In fact, the foliage looked more alive. The leaves appeared to be peeling away from the surface and reaching toward the sky. However, when he ran his fingers over the stone, it felt flat. The lights still carried a comforting warmth, and Flint knew they owed their current state to it.

A soft bark got Flint’s attention. Maya looked at him from across the clearing he had created while turning ruins into stone blocks. She smiled, her tail swishing from side to side violently. Adam waved at him, holding a hammer in his hand and smiling from ear to ear. The moon mage sat between them with iron bands around her wrists and ankles. She glared at Flint as he wandered over.

“Thank you for watching over her, Maya,” he said when the sheepdog approached him for affection. A head scratch was enough to satiate her before she returned to guard duties. “You too, Adam.” The big man nodded. “I think the manacles and chains are enough to secure her. You don’t have to stand guard any longer.”

Adam nodded, relaxing his shoulders. He glanced at the fae-woman on the floor before joining Twylip by the fire. Flint kneeled in front of her as she stared daggers at him. “Things didn’t have to turn out this way,” he said. “Cumula killed my mule and attacked me without provocation. It was her bear that killed her, not me.”

“I can smell the Iron Army’s stink on you,” the moon mage replied. “Why should I believe a single word out of your mouth?”

Flint shrugged. “You have no reason to, but look around you. Does this look like an army camp? I’m a builder, not a soldier. When you appeared, bearing weapons, did I attack or try to talk?”

The woman didn’t answer. For a moment, Flint thought she was going to spit at him, but she didn’t. Tears marked her pale cheeks. She fidgeted for a moment, and Flint noticed the burns around the manacles.

“Do you have anything for burns, Twylip?” Flint called, glancing at the woman over his shoulder. She nodded, glancing at the moon mage nervously. “Good. I’ll need bandages and the soothing salve too.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Twylip asked, anxiously looking between him and the moon mage.

Flint nodded. “I know what I’m doing.”

She and Adam complied, but neither appeared confident in Flint’s plan of action.

When Flint touched the moon mage, she recoiled, slapping at him, but froze when Maya growled, baring her teeth. Flint approached her with a gentler touch and carefully removed the manacles.

“If you use magic, Maya will maul you to pieces,” Flint told the woman. He washed the burns and dried them gently before applying the salve. Once done, he wrapped it with the bandage and clicked the iron bands shut. “That should keep your skin from burning,” he said before starting on the next one. By the time he got to her ankles, the woman didn’t resist as much.

She finally spoke when he finished. “Why?”

“We aren’t whatever you think we are,” he answered, glancing at the overcast sky above. “I’d like to know why you’re here and why you attacked me.”

“I’m not going to betray the Wyld.”

“I’m not asking you to.” Flint sighed. “No one here is your enemy. We didn’t go out of our way to attack you. You attacked us.” Flint pointed at the fort above. “The village beyond is a peaceful one. I left the army to find a new purpose in life, and I’m here to fix this place up since the Iron Council chose to abandon it. Your presence is disturbing. I didn’t think the Wyld and fae attacked innocents.”

The woman had no answer for him. Flint double-checked her manacles and sent Maya off to play. When he tried to get her to stand up, she resisted. A sharp jerk set her straight. Flint led her to the stone pillar, which was previously a [Totem of Healing], and used [Shape] to open a gap in the stone. He slotted the manacles’ chains into it before molding the stone to close around it.

“I’ve given you enough slack to be comfortable,” Flint said. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

“I won’t, you know,” she said. “You killed my friends.”

“I don’t think they were your friends.” He shaped an old stone into a bowl, washed it in the pool, and ladled stew into it. The moon mage didn’t take the dish from his hands but didn’t push it away either. “You were their leader and probably outranked them. They were your subordinates.”

“What makes you say that?” She asked, glaring at him.

Flint knelt in front of her and placed the stew between them with a chunk of bread. “They pursued me all at once while you stayed behind. It was only after I took the puck—”

“Sumra.”

“It was only after I took Sumra down did you get involved. That suggests your relationship wasn’t that of a traditional party.” The woman didn’t bat an eye or refute his statement. “I’ve never heard of a fae shaping moonlight into weapons and projectiles either. Chances are you’re one of the high fae. That means you’re in on whatever is going on here. I’m not going to kill you, but I can’t exactly let you go free without finding out what the Wyld wants with Lea’s Slumber either.”

“Does that mean you’d let me go if I told you my reason for being here?”

“I’m not sure,” Flint answered honestly. “There is no guarantee regarding whether you’d tell me the truth or not. I can’t have you leading more forces here either until I’ve restored the walls and the defenses.”

“Why are you building defenses if you don’t have any intention of getting involved in the war?” The woman asked, looking between Flint and the food.

“Because when the people of this village refused to leave their homes and serve the Iron Council, they were abandoned. They no longer have the army’s protection. I’m not a warrior and am incapable of protecting them myself, but perhaps decent fortifications will give us a chance.”

The moon mage smirked. “If the Wyld truly attacks, you will have no chance of survival with just three humans and two hounds. It doesn’t matter how good your fortifications are.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the woman accepted the bowl and dug into her meal. Flint joined Twylip and Adam by the fire before indulging in some stew as well. He was too sore to work on the wall, but he still had smaller projects for expending his energy.

20

Before getting distracted with busier projects, Flint took a moment to give Maya some attention. As expected, she had a new pitcher of sand sitting atop her node compass. It wasn’t quite as large as Bjorn’s, but still substantial. [Guide Growth] helped Maya reach the first groove in [Control]. Flint estimated he had enough sand to get [Mind] there too, but he didn’t want his best girl left fragile.

“Maya is plenty intelligent already,” Flint said, thinking out loud. He studied the [Mind] sector, wishing a book would appear to detail how everything would work. “You wouldn’t happen to give her magic, would you?”

He couldn’t begin to imagine Maya wielding spells. It felt like a brilliant prospect, but he didn’t have any guarantees. He was confident that [Power] increased resilience and strength, though, so he divided the sand equally between it and [Mind]. He wanted Maya balanced to continue her reign as his second.

Flint certainly hoped he didn’t have to get every sector to the first groove to upgrade her and Bjorn to the next stage of existence. He wasn’t sure what produced the sand, but he didn’t want to go through dozens of battles to progress the class quest. Besides, the next stage of existence would likely come with a significant power boost. It wouldn’t just increase their chances of fending off future attackers, but it would also ensure Maya or Bjorn didn’t get as hurt.

As Flint studied the Node Compass one more time, he wondered how fae-touched creatures were any different from Maya in her current state. Were they just ordinary beasts enhanced using magic similar to [Guide Growth]? Initially, Flint had believed that—since the fae were much closer to nature than humankind, animals followed them willingly. He used to think that the fae—Wyldmasters—used their fae magic to enhance the creatures that fought with them. Now he understood that was only partially true. Some, if not all, the animals that followed them were magically manipulated to become weapons of war.

It angered Flint that the Wyldmaster had taken away Bjorn’s will. The Iron Army wasn’t much better. Dogs followed their masters willingly, but the army had horses, elephants, and war goats too. They used beastmasters with relevant skill stones to break them and force the creatures into servitude. As Flint thought about it, he realized the fae’s methods were probably gentler.

They were innocents in the war, like the dogs, horses, elephants, and other creatures the Iron Army broke to serve on and off the battlefield. Neither side had the moral high ground and was as bad as the other. Despite how the residents of Lea’s Slumber treated him, Flint believed that they had made the right decision. Staying out of the war made the most sense. Things would change eventually once the Champion came into power, but Flint needed access to Lea’s Slumber before he could get to the bottom of that mystery. Until then, he hoped to keep the Sleeping Fort innocuous. Things would turn unpleasant if either side got word of the future Champion.

Once done with [Guide Growth], he let the dogs rest and play. After the previous night, they deserved it. For the time being, he focused on smaller projects like a [Totem of Nurture] and a foot-high barrier around the pool. While Twylip intended to go back to the fort at nightfall, Adam retrieved basic equipment before lunch. He set up shop in the hut by the ever-burning firepit. Much to Flint’s surprise, after burying the dead fae, Adam claimed their weapons and threw them into a cauldron over the pit.

“He’s got metal detection and smelting abilities,” Twylip said. “I doubt the fae weapons are all stone as they appear. Otherwise, they’d have no chance against us.”

The moon mage snorted at the comment but didn’t add to the information. Flint thought it was as good a time as any to learn about the village, so he engaged Twylip in chit-chat.

“They’re pretty proud up there, aren’t they?” He asked after ensuring the moon mage was out of earshot.

“Oh yeah. Especially the older people. They keep telling us how we’re descended from the great champion Lea and her party of classers—it’s why we’ve got so many skill stones.” Twylip lowered her volume and moved in closer. “Do you think that’s why the fae came all the way out here?”

“I don’t know,” Flint answered. “It might be me or the village. I’d love it if you didn’t tell anyone in the village this, but I saw strange shapes in the foothills on my way here. They were gone by the time we reached the walls, but you know what happened afterward.” He nodded at the moon mage. “She and her friends came looking for the woman I killed. So, I’m not sure whether it’s me or there is something in the village they want.”

“I don’t think so—”

“Just think about it. Isn’t it a little unreasonable how much Mr. Mayor wants me gone? I’m not with the army and just want to help, yet he appears terrified by my presence.” Twylip’s brows furrowed as Flint spoke. “There is something more at play here. I can just feel it! Do you think it’s possible an artifact or trinket belonging to the old hero or her party could be somewhere in the village? It might be what the fae are looking for.”

Twylip looked uphill at the slope. “Almost every major family in the village has some thing or the other that they claim belonged to Lea or one of her companions. It could be anything. I’m sure it’s the same all over the lands, though. Lea and only a couple of her friends came here to rest. They wanted to get away from politics and all that, but according to the stories, they visited every major city to celebrate their victory and detail the treaties. Despite what the elders claim, not all of her party settled here.”

“Do you think Miss Lya would know?”

“I’ve been in her house, and she shows off Lea’s rings all the time. One of them has an aura that encourages plant growth, but that’s it.” Twylip’s eyes widened as if she had come upon a sudden realization. “Mr. Mayor and Percy have been meeting outside the fort regularly ever since you got here. It’s strange.”

“What is?”

“Now that I think about it, Percy hasn’t spent much time repairing the fort. He’s fixed up the external walls on the ground floor, but whenever he thinks I’m out, he goes down to the basement. I initially thought there were issues with the foundation, but it could be something else.”

“He was pretty insistent we work on the fort first,” Flint said, thoughtfully. “I’ll start there.”

Before starting on his little adventure, Flint built a shelter around the former [Totem of Healing]. He made two walls and a roof to give the moon mage some privacy and protection from the elements. The Iron Army wouldn’t give her such luxuries, but he believed in respecting his prisoner. In fact, he didn’t like the idea of having a prisoner at all. Flint didn’t think of her as lesser for being fae. After all, he was a Woodson. If he treated her well, perhaps the moon mage would eventually open up.

Flint released the woman for a few minutes to relieve herself and get freshened up as dusk approached. He kept the manacles on, of course, keeping her magic locked away. She didn’t try anything and followed instructions. Flint guessed she had no confidence in an escape without her spells. Perhaps her magic didn’t work during the daylight hours either.

“Thank you,” she said when he served her dinner, surprising him.

Flint wasn’t sure what game she was playing, so he asked Adam and Bjorn to stay and keep an eye on her. Meanwhile, he and Maya followed Twylip up to the fort. Up close, the structure appeared much bigger and intimidating. The ancient builders seemed to have carved the fort’s wings out of the cliffs before joining either side with the central structure. The floors beyond the first two were pockmarked with holes, and the roof appeared to have mostly crumbled, yet it managed to tower far above them.

Twylip led Flint and Maya through a maze of rubble and through the mostly collapsed inner walls. Once at the entrance, the trio waited until the orange lights on the ground floor went out. They all knew what it meant. Percy had done enough for one day and was heading to the pub.

“I want you to stand guard by the walls, Maya,” Flint said before heading in. “Our guest might have friends hiding out in the plains. If any of the others show up, howl for us.”

Maya’s eyes darted between the fort and Flint. She whined, but Flint didn’t budge. Maya yapped at him before running downhill. Twylip marched into the structure while Flint followed warily. He couldn’t help but marvel at the fort’s detailed construction. It wasn’t just grand but practical too. Twylip couldn’t give him an exact age, but five centuries was still a long time. The structure hadn’t benefited from maintenance, but its support structure appeared mostly intact.

Percy appeared to have done an excellent job of clearing out all the rubble on the first level. While there were several missing dividing walls, he had restored most of the arches and fixed the floors. “I don’t know how good the old coot is at building, but he’s got a good touch when it comes to repairs,” Flint commented as they searched for a way down.

“You don’t want to see the first floor,” Twylip replied. “It’s like he doesn’t even care. I think he cleared up this floor more so he could find a way down to the basement.”

Her words proved correct when they came upon a corner with stone fragments piled almost to the ceiling. A set of stairs sat behind it, leading down into the darkness.

“I smell mushrooms.” Twylip dug through her satchel as she sniffed at the air. She dug out a glass vial and shook it. The clear liquid inside burst into light. “Let’s see what they’re hiding.”

“No.” Flint pulled her back and pointed at the cracks bordering the hole. “It doesn’t look like Percy has been securing around his dig site. If there is a collapse, I can do emergency work to save myself. It won’t be as easy with both of us down there.”

“You expect me just to stay up here and wait?”

Flint nodded. “Or you can go up to wherever you sleep and rest. I’m going down there alone. If I deem it worthy of a future visit, next time, I’ll bring you along.”

“Fine,” Twylip grumbled, crossing her arms. She pulled two more containers out of her pocket and pressed them into Flint’s hand. “There are mushrooms in this region that produce sleep-inducing spores. If you feel yourself getting drowsy, rub the salt paste under your nose.”

“What’s the other one?”

“Worm’s bane,” Twylip answered. “If you run into big bugs, open the container and run. It won’t keep them away for good but will slow them long enough for you to escape.”

“I’m starting to think going down alone might not be the best idea.” Flint raised a hand, silencing Twylip before she could get a word out. “I meant the dogs, not you.”

She rolled her eyes, turned around, and left. Flint thought about praying, but he’d given up on the concept of faith. After shaking the glowing vial in hand to brighten its glow, he headed into the darkness, glad he’d brought his crossbow along.

21

Flint’s skin crawled as he ventured below the building. Something felt off about everything on the level. He couldn’t tell whether it was years of stale air or if he needed to worry about sinister entities. Mushrooms grew out of cracks below the stairs. Given the rubble untidily piled around them, Flint guessed there used to be many more of them. Percy hadn’t excavated so much as ripped a path into the lower levels.

As he crept through the basement, carefully avoiding areas that looked unstable, Flint looked back on his interactions with Percy and Mr. Mayor. There was no reason for the latter of the two to treat him with hostility. Perhaps an individual with a life quest made them worry that Flint had come for something valuable or powerful hidden within the village. The more he thought about it, the surer he became.

They see a classer as a sign of dark days on the horizon.

It made sense. Flint’s presence and attempts at repairing the fort would draw attention. They likely worried that if a scouting party found him, they’d believe something more was at play. If there was indeed something worth finding and protecting in Lea’s Slumber, the village would be in jeopardy. Flint had no intention of picking up an artifact or using it himself. He believed it was likely in store for the Champion of Equilibrium. However, knowledge of such an object’s existence would help guide his decisions.

Percy appeared to have adopted Flint’s methods of digging using [Shape]. His methods weren’t as precise or clean, but he had made more progress than anyone could by using standard tools. [Builder’s Brawn] had its limits—unless he had a specialization Flint had never encountered before. Deeper in the structure, things got tidier. Not because Percy had given up his messy ways, but because the tunnels and halls were intact and hadn’t collapsed.

The primary tunnel ended abruptly. Studying the stones helped Flint locate two arches, but fresh stone blocked the way through them. Percy appeared to have done an excellent job roughing up the stone and adding grime to the walls to make it all blend into one. However, Percy’s [Shape] ability ranked far below Flint’s. After all the recent practice he’d gotten, the signs of inferior usage were obvious to Flint.

When he pressed his ear to the stone barricades, he heard nothing. So, he tried the barricade to the right first. The material resisted at first. [Shape] drained his essence but did nothing besides making the stone vibrate. Then just as he was about to give up, rectangular sections of it shifted before falling out as massive blocks. Flint only saw darkness beyond, but the air smelled different.

Curiosity got the best of Flint, and he enlarged the opening, hoping to make a passageway big enough to get through. However, when he got it a couple of feet wide, a distant rustling made him freeze. Flint immediately regretted not bringing Maya along. He took a step back from the hole and paused for a moment, waiting for more sounds. The quiver hanging at his waist didn’t have many bolts remaining, and Flint hoped he wouldn’t have to waste many on whatever the life quest threw at him next.

When a monstrous centipede appeared out of the darkness and lunged at him, Flint was prepared. He dove to the side and raised his crossbow at the beast, ready to fire. Much to his surprise, the beast didn’t come at him. It extended a part of his body through the opening and swiveled its giant head around for a moment, studying its surroundings. A large gash marked its chitinous side, and Flint suspected the wound had come from a pickaxe. He contemplated his chances for a moment.

The beast appeared armored and powerful. His bolts likely had no chance against it, so Flint waited for the creature to make the first move. He had never felt empathic pulses off an insect. However, Flint detected a mote of intelligence in the creature. Hunger and rage weren’t a part of it. Eventually, the beast retreated, and he restored the barricade without hesitation.

Flint guessed that Percy had encountered the beast too. Instead of leaving it alone, the old builder had opted for a violent approach and successfully repelled the beast before erecting the barricade.

After some hesitation, Flint tried the second barricade too. The [Shaping] on it felt more recent, so he didn’t worry as much when opening a door. It didn’t surprise Flint when he found light on the other side. Fireless lanterns illuminated everything in the room on the other side. The air didn’t stink as much as the other cavern too. Peeking through the opening, Flint saw tools and fresh chunks of rubble on the other side. Flint guessed that Percy had left the area recently. Flint took down the stone barricade altogether and entered the titanic cavern that awaited him.

The surrounding support structure suggested the area was built to hold and keep something secure. Metal lined the pillars, and time hadn’t corroded either of them. Flint hypothesized that magic, alchemy, or a rank-eight builder had worked their influence on the structure. Several solid doors lined the walls, and fresh scratches marked them all. Flint spotted a variety of digging tools lying on the floor. They all had glowing runes covering them, but most had suffered damage.

Out of curiosity, Flint tried opening one of the doors using [Shape]. The ability sapped his energy but failed to make any changes. It didn’t vibrate like the barricades Percy had erected. Flint was sure the old builder hadn’t made much headway either. One by one, Flint checked all the doors. They all gave him the same result. Then he spotted something Percy had missed. The old builder had left wax-paper wrappers, and his belongings littered all over the place except the room’s center, where a grand carving sat on the floor.

Time had faded most of it, but Flint could tell it was of a woman lying on the ground with her eyes closed. She held a sword over her breast, pointing toward the floor. Flint knelt on the stone and ran his fingers along the ancient artwork, admiring the long-dead craftsman’s skills. A sudden shock made him jerk away.

“Hello.”

Flint jumped to his feet and looked around the room. His hands shot to the crossbow at his side. Maya and Bjorn had helped him recover his bolts, but they weren’t enough in case a monster attacked. He saw no one. Flint was sure he had heard a sultry, feminine voice, but no matter how much he scanned his surroundings, he failed to find the voice’s owner.

After a deep inhale and exhale, he turned his attention back to the carving. Flint realized the shock wasn’t a physical one. It was his empathic sense. Something had reached out to him. When he knelt and touched the stone again, something below him clicked. The carving parted to reveal a set of stairs leading into the darkness.

Several minutes passed as Flint waited for the voice to speak to him again, but nothing came. After taking a moment to wonder whether it was his imagination, he started his trek into the darkness. A good shake brightened the glass vial’s contents. Twylip deserved a thanks for the gift. If not for it, Flint wouldn’t have made the discovery.

The carving above and the runes covering the wall suggested that Flint had stumbled into the tomb of someone ancient and powerful. He half-expected to find the great-hero Lea’s coffin. Instead, Flint found himself face to face with a sword in a stone. The weapon’s design and polish were enough to suggest that he had stumbled upon no ordinary blade. Cobwebs covered the basements above, and dust coated everything. However, the sword and an arm’s length circle around it were spotless.

“Hello.”

Flint didn’t have to look around to know it was the sword speaking. Even though Flint had never had a history lesson and no one told him bedtime stories, he knew most legends featured weapons of incredible power. The tales spoke of them cutting through plate armor like butter and slaying the mightiest of enemies with little challenge. Given what some builders could do, Flint was inclined to believe such tales. However, he always thought the stories of talking weapons were a step too far.

“Hello.”

“Is that all you can say?” Flint asked, chuckling. He carefully approached the weapon to have a look. Emerald vines decorated the black hilt, and golden ruins ran along the blade. “You’re a pretty little weapon.”

A sudden urge to touch the pommel overcame Flint. Even though he despised swords and had no intention of touching the village’s hidden treasure, he gave in to the urge. The world around Flint transformed as soon as he made contact. The rune-covered walls fell away to show him the same scenes he had seen during his fever dreams.

Flint stood on the fort’s outer walls while fae and human armies marched toward them. The flying woman pointed her right hand at him, and fire once again rained on the lands he now called his home. This time, Flint had no control over his body. He saw himself draw the sword from his belt and hold it with both hands high above his head. White light pulsed from the weapon, extinguishing the flames and turning them into giant stones. Instead of continuing their flight toward the fort, they fell on the enemy troops, crushing dozens at a time.

The vision shifted to show Flint facing the moon mage. She showered him with her bolts of light. Flint didn’t budge. The projectiles dissipated a swords-length from him. The moon mage’s eyes widened, the remaining bolts collecting behind her and dissolving to form white wings. She flapped them, taking to the sky. Another white pulse emanated from Flint, and her wings melted away. She dropped to the ground and looked at him with fear.

Finally, Flint drew the sword. He shot forwards with Bjorn and Maya following close on his heel. Their claws clicked against the stone as they ran, and the sound assured Flint that he wasn’t alone. Then the sword reminded him of her support too. Together they were strong. Together Flint, his pack, and the sword could accomplish anything.

A single slice cleaved the moon mage in two. The rows of bark-armored soldiers cried out in horror and charged at Flint. However, none of them stood a chance against him. Even though he hated swords, the figure in his vision had no trouble wielding the weapon. He cut down pucks, brownies, high fae, and Iron Army soldiers indiscriminately. They collapsed and exploded into dust behind him. When shadowed figures tried to sneak up behind Flint or attack him from the sides, Bjorn and Maya put them down indiscriminately.

For the first time in his existence, Flint felt powerful. Nothing could stand in his way. Anyone that dared to oppose or challenge him would fall. He now had the strength to end the war and use his newfound might to bring about peace. And, unlike the previous champion, Flint would ensure that this time, the peace lasted indefinitely.

Suddenly, the enemies stopped coming at him, and he saw the Verdant Plains extending endlessly below. Villages stood in the green expanse, and colorful smoke rose from them. Flint spotted wagons traveling between the settlements and people smiling and laughing on the roads as they stopped and chatted. Pucks dealt with humans, and brownies tended to their animals. It looked like real peace had finally come to the disk.

Then Flint made the mistake of looking over his shoulder. Blood, gore, and endless mounds of dust dirtied the ground. He had achieved peace by walking a path of war, death, and destruction. The power at his fingertips filled him with an incredible sense of strength. However, the cost turned his stomach. It wasn’t what Flint wanted from his future.

Flint shook his head, pulling himself back to reality. He felt every hair on his neck, back, and arms standing on end. The sword had made its power clear to him. It carried the ability to nullify fae magic.

“No.”

The Iron Army had faltered too. He recalled seeing countless men and women recoil at the pulse and falter. Flint wasn’t sure how he knew it, but the weapon had the power to interfere with abilities born of skill stones too. The hero Lea must’ve used the sword to force the war to a standstill and then convince both sides to sign a treaty.

“No wonder the fae were sneaking past the Iron Army’s defensive lines,” Flint whispered. “They’re looking for you.”

Strength pulsed through Flint as he wrapped his fingers around the sword’s hilt. It was heavy but budged when he pulled. Then an uncomfortable feeling pulsed through him. It was like the shock from before but duller. Flint froze. The feminine voice didn’t speak to him, but he could feel a warming embrace in his arms. Invisible fingers slid through his hair, and soft lips parted his.

“No!” Flint said, pulling away from the sword. His heart thumped in his chest as realization hit. It was his empathic sense. Something was clawing at his mind and trying to influence his decision. Flint refused to be robbed of his will and backpedaled. “Power comes at a cost. If it’s my mind that you want, you can’t have it.”

“Hello?” The words sounded desperate instead of sultry. Flint felt hunger and lust through his empathic link as the swords’ runes glowed with the same light as the sun. His palms itched, and it felt like only the soft wrappings around the hilt could soothe it, but he knew better. Flint turned his back and ran up the stairs. He traced his fingers along with the carving until he found the tiny runed dimple he had pressed and activated the mechanism. It responded to his touch, and the floor closed, returning to its old untouched state. He restored Percy’s erected barriers, too, returning the floor to exactly how he found it.

As Flint sprinted through the basement, he made up his mind. Until he identified the Champion of Equilibrium, no one could know about the sword’s existence or location. The weapon had tried to seduce him. It would probably try to do the same to others. If they gave in, there was no telling what it would compel them to do. At the same time, if the fae found out its location, they’d send entire legions looking for it. Flint needed to keep it hidden and secret until the Champion was ready to rise.

No more wasting time. The wall needs completion, and I need to secure this place.

It was a good thing Twylip had returned to her room. Flint was sure that if she saw him now, she’d know something was wrong. It was for the best if he played the fool. During their walk uphill, the pair had agreed on a story. If anyone asked, Twylip would claim Flint had walked her home and made a pass. She’d let him down quickly and, after a chat, Twylip had sent him on his way.

Before returning to the camp, Flint ventured through the ground floor, looking for the exit which led to the village below. It didn’t take him long to find it. Unlike the route leading up to the fort, the path through it was straight. His jaw dropped when he got a good look at Lea’s Slumber.

Flint guessed the villagers hadn’t given the Iron Army access to their village. Lea’s Slumber probably kept them satiated with regular shipments of supplies. He was sure that if the Iron Council found out what the villagers really had, they’d repair the fort and take control of the settlement. The council would claim their actions were to unify the lands and prevent the worship of false idols. In reality, they wouldn’t want to lose control of such expansive resources.

Lea’s Slumber was no village. In fact, Flint believed it was larger than most towns he’d seen. The Gator Teeth range surrounded the almond-shaped clearing, creating an almost impenetrable wall. The steep-curving walls suggested the clearing had once been a crater. Over time, the rivers bordering the village had filled the hole with local soil and brought life to the scorched earth. Now, fields of varying crops surrounded the settlement’s stone walls, and he spotted an expansive orchard in the far corner too.

Dense woodlands surrounded the cleared ground, and several bodies of water emerged from them, dividing the area into several neat sections. The water then disappeared into the ground around the fort. Flint guessed that if he dug around the underground levels further, he’d eventually come upon giant pools and moving bodies of water.

Golden and orange lights glowed within and outside the village’s walls, highlighting grand halls, cottages, and workshops. Beyond the tamed lands, giant trees grew out of the ground, creating a barrier of foliage. Flint guessed fauna filled them too, giving the villagers plenty to hunt. He could see a couple of fields in the distance with grazing cattle. The village had natural defenses and enough resources to rely on no one but themselves. They probably had the means not only to supply themselves all year round but also support the fort and anyone who chose to live on the slope between the inner and outer walls.

Twylip’s vial shone like a beacon in the darkness. Unwilling to get spotted by someone out for a late-night stroll, Flint slipped through the fort and started his journey downhill. He was almost back at the shelter when Maya’s howl sounded in the distance.

22

Flint clenched his jaw and broke into a run. He had told himself that attacks two nights in a row were unlikely. However, if his hypothesis was correct and he had captured a powerful high fae, her allies would come looking for him.

An entire rest day might’ve been too much.

Bjorn and Adam were on their feet when he reached the camp. The snow dog stayed by the prisoner while Adam strapped the dead pucks’ light leathers around his torso. They didn’t provide a lot of protection but were still better than nothing. When Flint didn’t slow, Adam broke into a run, holding his hammer tightly with both hands.

Maya howled again, encouraging Flint to increase his speed. They passed the pulsing Heartstone and were panting by the time the wall’s stairs came into view. Flint took them two at a time as he raced to the top.

“What is it, Maya?” Flint asked, falling onto his knees next to her.

At first, he saw nothing while scanning the horizon. Then as the clouds shifted, bathing the Verdant Plains in moonlight, a dark silhouette came into view. It had long, branching antlers, but unlike most deer, its face didn’t feature a snout. Despite the moon’s light and [Keen Eye], Flint failed to determine a face. However, he saw long brown-and-green fur hanging all over the creature’s body. A glint of green around its face gave away a set of four glowing eyes. They were focused on the fort.

Adam joined Flint, breathing heavily, and scanned the horizon. However, he didn’t pause on the alien creature. Then it stood on two legs, making Adam gasp. The Iron Army had forbidden the creation of chimaera long ago. Even though the creature looked like a monstrous furry man with antlers and many eyes, Flint knew from the body shape that it was anything but.

It was most likely one of the ancient monsters that roamed the disk’s wildernesses or along its edges. The Iron Army often sent contingencies of a hundred or more men to face them for the prize of several skill stones. They only succeeded half the time. There was a chance it was one of the creatures living in the tunnels or bridges between disks too, but Flint had his doubts. He had heard reality warped around them, and the creature appeared to be one with the wilderness.

As the hairy beast descended a hill, it lifted a monstrous spiked club off the ground and held it over its shoulder. Flint got a reasonable estimate of the creature’s height as it walked. It would likely stand at eye level with the wall. He hoped the monster didn’t have the strength to shatter it but climbing over the current defenses would probably not be a challenge given its height.

When the creature disappeared into the grassy hills, Flint’s shoulders relaxed. “We wouldn’t have a chance if that thing attacked us,” he said.

Adam grunted in response. The bigger man’s body trembled as they descended the stairs. Flint felt his hands shaking too. On the other hand, Maya followed them, her ears floppy and tail wagging. She smiled at him, and her reassurance through their empathic link helped Flint relax. Maya let him know they were safe. She nudged his hand with her head. Flint gave in to her demands and scratched the top of her head as they walked uphill.

Maya had grown once again. He no longer had to bend his knees or slump his shoulders to reach her chin. Flint scratched her behind the ear and the side of her head. Maya leaned into his hand, and he understood the jumble of emotions and colors coming through. Maya was telling him that he’d keep her safe.

The [Totem of Nurture] stood out like a beacon as they approached the camp. Flint had ignored it on the way down. It shone gold, unlike the [Totem of Healing]. Instead of vines and leaves, it featured puppies and dogs frolicking under the sun. Flint wasn’t sure what it could do, but the name suggested it would help the dogs grow. Flint hoped to give it a couple of days, then he’d check for changes using [Guide Growth].

The prisoner shot them a knowing glance and had an almost taunting smirk on her face. Flint was too tired to deal with her, so he shared a snack of apples and pears with Adam and the dogs before retiring for the night.

* * *

“My name is Winona,” the moon mage said while Flint stood with his back to her.

As a courtesy, he had allowed her to wash up in some privacy the following morning. Adam had gone up to Lea’s Slumber to fetch supplies, and Twylip had joined him. Bjorn watched the woman, ensuring she didn’t try anything.

“The name’s Flint.”

“I gathered as much.” Water sprayed against the back of Flint’s neck as she splashed around.

Flint sat on the ground, shaping stones for a private booth by the pool. Now that there was a woman in the area, he wanted privacy too. He heard her finish and get clothed. Then she walked around Flint and sat down in front of him. Twylip had arranged clothes for her, and she looked a lot less intimidating in a blouse and work pants. Flint removed her manacles and replaced the bandages one by one. The burns had healed, and he didn’t want new ones to form.

“You screwed up last night,” she said as he fastened the iron bands around her ankles. Instead of bandages, she wore socks as a protective layer. It was still uncomfortable.

“What do you mean?” Flint asked, making sure the iron bands were secure. He focused on keeping his tone neutral. He didn’t want to confirm or deny whatever suspicions she had.

“Every aether beast and magic-user in the Gator Teeth range felt you and the relic last night. I bet the psychic pulse spread across this corner of the Verdant Plains too. There’s no point in hiding it anymore.”

“So, you were looking for something.” Flint calmed his mind and pulled his emotions back. He could feel a growing jumble of conflicts radiating off Winona. Flint tried the same thing he had with Bjorn not long ago. He projected a calm, comforting aura and pushed it on his prisoner. It felt wrong trying to manipulate her mind, but desperation to understand the mysterious visitor and possible future attacks terrified him.

Winona smiled. “It might not be the relic the fae lords are looking for, but if any of our scouts felt the disturbance, they’ll come here to investigate,” she said. “So, you have two options. Set me free, and I’ll buy you time so you and the pathetic people in Lea’s Slumber may flee. Or kill me and await a slow, painful death. Things won’t be good for you if you let me live either. Once the Wyld’s armies come—believe me, they will—and set me free, I’ll take pleasure in skewering you personally.”

Flint sighed. “Do you hear yourself?” He asked. “These threats of yours, they’re just not convincing. I spent twelve years in the army. I can tell the difference between people who want violence and bloodshed and those who do not.” Flint paused, wondering whether to share his personal secret or not. After some thought, he decided there was no point in hiding it anymore. “Whatever you felt last night, I felt it too—”

“I knew it! You’re a Wyldblood.” Winona’s eyes widened as she glanced at Bjorn. “My Wyldmaster sensed something strange between you and the hounds. What are you?”

Flint shrugged. “They call us Woodson in the Iron Lands. My parents died when the war started. Apparently, puck merchants dropped me off at the orphanage before returning to the fae lands.” He sighed. “It doesn’t matter. What I’m saying is, I can feel your intentions, Winona. You’re not the person you claim to be.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Flint,” she growled. Suddenly, the boiling conflicts radiating off of Winona became dull and muted. Flint pulled his probes back out of respect. “It’s for the best if you stay out of my head.”

“I know, not just because I can feel your emotions when you’re stressed, but also because you and I are the same,” he said, shooting her a soft smile. “I can feel it. You’re more comfortable here in chains than when you first arrived. We both hate war. I bet it’s taken as much from you as it has from me. So, how about we drop this charade and you tell me what you’re looking for?”

“I don’t know,” she answered after a moment’s silence. “The scouting leader told us to look for powerful sources of arcana that carry signs of fae magecraft. Whatever you found up there might be one such item. The fae lords are scared of them falling into the Iron Council’s hands. We’re to either retrieve them or report our findings so more elite teams come to investigate.” Winona paused, glancing at Bjorn as he repositioned himself next to Flint. “Someone will have sensed that pulse, Flint. So, I’m giving you the opportunity to tell me what you found in the fort and leave. I won’t hold my party’s death against you. We attacked, and you defended yourself. Revenge doesn’t end well for any of the parties involved—”

“That’s not going to happen, Winona.” Flint pulled her onto her feet and bound her to the pillar before giving her bread and cheese for breakfast. “The Iron Army tried scaring the villagers, but they refused to budge. I doubt I, as one man, will change their minds. And I wouldn’t even if I could. This is my home now.”

Winona glared at Flint as he got ready for the day. Adam and Twylip were heading downhill. After putting the supplies away, Twylip intended on gathering herbs around camp while he and Adam finished the wall. Even though Flint maintained a brave face, the past evening had left him terrified. He wanted the wall completed as soon as possible.

“The Wyld doesn’t care if you’re Wyldblood, you know. Fae or not, you’re either with them or against them. They’ll tear through you without hesitation.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Winona.” Flint shot her a smile before greeting his friends.

“How did everything go last night?” Twylip asked. “Did you find anything?”

“I might have.” Flint didn’t see a point in lying. However, giving the pair too much information would only make them panic. “I’m not sure what’s down there, but there’s something for sure. The sooner we finish the walls, the better.”

23

It took Flint and Adam three days of endless work to finish the wall. Having company didn’t just make the work go faster but made it more pleasant too. Adam didn’t talk but still managed to keep Flint entertained. He made faces, juggled the cumbersome building blocks, and hummed.

On their first day on the job, Adam disappeared for two hours and returned with several metal wheels and ropes. Flint couldn’t be happier as, together, they managed to rig a pulley system to lift stones to the top of the wall. It sped up the process and saved both a whole lot of energy.

Even though Adam wasn’t a builder, [Smithing] and [Hammer Play] made him good with his hands. Flint used [Shape] to make blocks, and they piled them onto the lift together. Once at the top, Adam followed his instructions regarding their placement, then it was a matter of using [Bind]. Together, they raised the wall by four feet instead of two like he initially planned. Then Flint finished the ramparts himself.

Meanwhile, Maya and Bjorn frolicked outside of the walls. Thanks to [Keen Eye], Flint had little trouble watching the horizon, and if anything ever felt off, he only had to whistle. His pack came running, usually with a deer, hare, or some other prey animal. Maya moved so fast now that she reminded Flint of the shadow cats from the Wyld forests. Former front-line soldiers occasionally found abandoned kittens and tamed them. The felines moved so fast they blurred before unempowered eyes.

Bjorn’s speed had increased too, but he was nowhere near as fast as Maya. However, with every passing day, he grew in size and got beefier. Flint guessed a Wyldarrow would barely faze him now. When Bjorn returned dragging a moose one day, Flint had to have a strong word with the pair.

“Don’t leave the plains!” He had scolded them. “Stay close to the walls, alright?”

Maya had yapped at him and then licked his hands with her ears flat against her head. It was clear through their empathic link that she understood Flint’s words. On the other hand, Bjorn stared at them with his tongue out and tail swishing from side to side. Flint knew that the big snow dog wasn’t stupid, but understanding the common tongue was still beyond him. It was likely he’d lived most of his life taking orders in whatever language they spoke in the snowy wastes. Perhaps he spoke the fae’s language. Flint couldn’t tell. Fortunately, they could still communicate through their empathic link. It was better than nothing.

Flint summoned Bjorn and Maya back inside the walls before casting his final [Bind] and completing the wall. He wanted his pack there for the noteworthy moment. A little over a week had passed since he started the objective, but it felt like an eternity. When Flint placed the final block and used [Bind], a rush of energy pulsed through him, and it felt like he’d taken a strong shot of fire whisky. His canine companions froze for a moment and then gave themselves a good shake. They had felt the change too.

All three of them looked at the Heartstone standing not far uphill. Its rainbow runes glowed bright, now clearly visible due to the increased height. While Adam remained on the walls, admiring the view, Flint and his pack rushed to meet the stone monolith. He jogged despite his fatigue after a day full of work. Meanwhile, Maya and Bjorn bounced around him with their tongues hanging out. The pair ran much faster than him, of course, but they chose to move slowly to stay by his side.

Once at his destination, Flint pressed his hands to the Heartstone and let it suck his mind into its machinations. Much to Flint’s surprise, the space within was no longer an expanse of endless whiteness. Instead, he found himself standing in the forts’ restored grounds at sunset. There were no people around, but he could hear people laughing and talking. The smell of grilling meat and mead filled the air.

The pedestal called to Flint, and he rushed forward to meet it. Ink seeped through the yellowed pages to greet him.

[Saving the Savior]

The Sleeping Fort is now reasonably safe. Scaling the walls is no longer an easy feat and will function as a worthwhile deterrent.

Since you’re a Kennel Master and construction is one of your loves, you may now work on three objectives simultaneously at a leisurely pace.

[Preparing the fort for reawakening]

[Objective I]

Restore or build three structures or commodities between the inner and outer defenses.

You have already completed one structure and need to complete two more.

Reward: Crafting-focused skill stone and intermediate knowledge for the user.

[Objective II]

Install three traps between the inner and outer defenses.

Reward: Crafting-focused skill stone and immediate knowledge for the user.

[Objective III]

Repair the inner wall’s gates.

Reward: Two ability upgrade stones

Completion Reward: Reawakening the fort’s internal Heartstone. Access to the Sleeping Fort’s [City Planning Table].

The multitude of objectives coming Flint’s way took him by surprise. He expected the Heartstone to give him one to replace the old one, not three. The fact that all of them came with tantalizing rewards got his heart pounding. Flint wasn’t too keen on getting a crafting-focused skill stone for his [Mind Node]. High-ranking archers in the Iron Army often slotted [Fletching] into that position. They used it to power up their projectiles or conjure them out of thin air. However, Flint didn’t like that its sole focus was combat and marksmanship. He hoped the class quest would give him something better suited for his purposes.

If he didn’t get something well-suited for Adam or Twylip, he hoped to trade the crafting skill stones with the residents of Lea’s Slumber. Perhaps they’d have a useful stone or other resources beneficial for the Sleeping Fort.

The upgraded stones excited Flint a lot more. Even though they only affected abilities, the rare objects were more valuable than second-tier skill stones. They allowed upgrading an ability to its next tier. Flint wondered how the process would affect the likes of [Shape] and [Totem of Healing]. Both had proven themselves invaluable abilities. [Keen Eye] and [Steady Hand] could greatly benefit from such upgrades too.

Finally, Flint turned his focus on the “Completion Reward.” Gaining access to another Heartstone would make life easier if he could find people to man the fort. However, he didn’t know the first thing about [City Planning Table]s. Flint assumed it was something the [City Planner] class could build but knew nothing about their capabilities. He imagined a worktop covered in schematics but guessed it could do a lot more, much like his totems.

Before finishing his communion with the Heartstone, Flint checked the Node Compass. Much to his disappointment, nothing had changed. Neither [Guide Growth] nor [Totem of Nurture] had gained a rank. Flint hadn’t tested [Marking Shot] either. The name didn’t sound particularly impressive. However, Flint didn’t want to get caught out in a fight again and wanted to make the most of his available tools. So, he planned on making a target range and testing the ability. Judging by the name and location, it would require Maya and Bjorn present to make the most of it.

Dusk was approaching, and the dogs appeared hungry, so Flint hurried back to camp after finishing at the Heartstone. Twylip sat by the fire cooking, and Adam was washing himself up by the pool. Their prisoner, Winona, wasn’t idle either. She had a variety of herbs piled next to her and was busy picking the leaves off of them.

After cleaning themselves up, they all sat down for dinner together. Winona had already figured out that he had a life quest, so he didn’t bother keeping his volume down.

“You need to build a moat,” Twylip said after Flint detailed his new objectives. “Or a body of water that runs across the pass. Put a collapsible bridge across it, and you’ll kill several birds with one stone. Miss Lya says the fae don’t like running water.”

“That’s only applicable for races that ally with fire, earth, or death,” Winona said, even though she was seated far from them.

Twylip fell silent. She didn’t spare the prisoner a glance. Flint couldn’t tell whether it was a race issue or Winona’s status as a prisoner that disturbed her.

“What about you?” Flint asked, turning away from the fire to face her. “Do you and your fellow moon mages draw power from the tide and flowing water?”

Winona shrugged. “As far as I know, I’m the last,” she answered, looking up at the crescent moon above. “I’ve grown stronger during high tides, but that’s only because the moon is closer.”

Flint found another point of familiarity with Winona. She, too, was an orphan. The more he saw himself in her, the more sympathetic he felt. He believed if not for the war, the pair would’ve struck up a friendship as kindred spirits.

“It’s not a bad plan, though,” Winona said. “Most troll species are terrified of water. You’ll lock them out with such a move.”

“Thank you,” Flint said, shooting her a smile. He needed to figure out what to do with her soon—keeping her tied up forever felt wrong. However, he wasn’t sure whether her openness was an act to lure them into a false sense of security. He didn’t sense any nefarious intentions from her. Unfortunately, she was one of the high fae, and he had heard that they came with a multitude of tricks. Even though Flint had brought the matter up before and Winona had rejected the suggestion, he tried again. “Why don’t you just swear a blood oath and join us?”

Twylip cleared her throat, but Flint ignored her. The apothecary woman had made her distrust of Winona clear. On the other hand, Adam didn’t care.

“You might have Wyldblood, but I can’t tell whether all of this is an act or not, Flint,” Winona answered. “I just can’t trust you, I’m afraid. Besides, when the Wyld’s troops get here, they’re going to take out anyone standing between them and their goal. I don’t want to be an obstacle for them to eviscerate.”

“Then why bother giving us tips and information?” Twylip snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Initially, I wanted you dead. My ties to my subordinates weren’t strong, but the scoutmaster trusted me with their safety.” Winona sighed. “You might not look at me directly, Twylip, but you treat me with more decency than the fae treat each other. You’ve provided a salve for my burns and comfortable clothes. Flint treats me with respect when most would torture their prisoners and violate them.” Winona’s eyes locked with Flint’s as she spoke. He struggled to look away from her steely gray-blue irises. “Despite what we were taught, you’re not wild, greedy animals, and I’d rather not see you slaughtered. Deterrents won’t win a siege for you, but if you delay the Wyld enough, perhaps you can find another route of escape.”

The campsite fell silent after her final statement. Only the sounds of a crackling fire and Bjorn demolishing a moose bone remained.

24

The following morning, Adam left the camp at first light. It took some convincing, but Bjorn followed him. Flint didn’t like relying on Miss Lya’s charity for vegetables. Fortunately, his new friends didn’t either. Since the soil around the inner walls was soft and tillable, it was ideal for their fruit, vegetable, and herb garden. The [Herbology] skill stone in her [Aura Node] would encourage all surrounding plant matter to grow quicker. Flint hoped it would solve their food issues.

Rubble from the surrounding collapsed structures and crumbling walls littered the area, though. Adam had sufficient strength to move them out of the way. Since snow dogs had risen to popularity pulling sleds across the frozen wastes, Bjorn was essential to the operation too. Besides, thanks to his recent upgrades, he had the brawn to spare. Once the ground was cleared, Twylip planned to grind the bones and offal of all their kills and mix it into the soil. Then she’d fill it with herbs and seeds from Miss Lya.

Flint felt bad that Adam still didn’t have the promised smithy to call his own. It wasn’t too big a concern, though. They didn’t have access to any metals besides whatever they had collected off Winona’s former party. Adam had created crude knives out of it for all three of them; he didn’t have any practice with the strange material. If Winona was right about the fae targeting their settlement, they’d have more of the metal before long.

Adam and Twylip were proving themselves as valuable companions time and time again. Flint couldn’t be happier with their company. He, of course, wished there were more of them, but it was better than nothing. A second builder would be a perfect addition to their growing team.

Once the trio was out of sight, Flint freed Winona. He kept the manacles on, of course, but he let her walk around freely. She shot him a confused look.

“If you try anything, Maya will start by mauling your forearms,” Flint said. “I almost trust you not to do anything stupid, though.”

“Well, that’s foolish,” Winona laughed. She washed up while Flint got breakfast together for the two of them. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Company,” Flint answered. “I’ve never been comfortable connecting to fellow humans, but you’re easier to talk to. I’d like to learn more about the fae and this war going on.”

“What good will that do?” She asked after a quick dip in the pool. After Winona had dried herself, Flint replaced the protective layer around her wrists and ankles before reapplying the manacles. “I’ve told you before that you have no hope of victory.”

“Do the fae have no concept of hope?” Flint washed their food bowls and served them Adam’s sweetened porridge.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had that luxury.” Winona sighed, digging into her breakfast.

They ate in silence for a while before Flint spoke up again. “What happened to the rest of your kind? Are all the children of the moon gone?”

Winona laughed as Flint struggled to remember the name. “It’s just us daughters. We weren’t a race but more an order. When the old high fae had daughters without essence tied to a specific element, they often sent them off to the order for training. We were trained to harness the light of the sun, moon, and stars to fuel their spells.” Winona’s eyes glazed over as she stared into the fire. “We protected the fae border and helped maintain the treaties with men. I was born of the order. My mother never told me the identity of my father, but given my arcane might, I’m sure he was high fae too.”

“What happened?” Flint asked. “Did the Iron Army destroy them?”

Winona shrugged. “Some of them did fall to your army, but I’m not sure. There was talk of my order getting too powerful. Threats were thrown around, and blood duels broke out. It will be two years ago next month.” Orange danced in Winona’s eyes as her tears reflected the firelight. “The order sent me on a mission to investigate one of the tunnels in our territory. People around it were disappearing, and we needed to ensure no creature from the void had broken through. It was just a tribe of zealous pucks. I captured them in a month before returning home.

“It was all gone. The Wyld council claimed it was an attack by the Iron Council, but the evidence said otherwise. I had my doubts and tried to investigate, but instead, they stripped me of my rank. Now I work for a brownie scoutmaster. His glare makes my stomach turn, and he keeps trying to get me alone. So, whenever there is a mission, I volunteer. The excursions keep me away from him and the council’s politics.”

“I’m sorry,” Flint said. “I’ve never had that kind of bond with anyone besides the strays around the orphanage. Every time I lost one of them, I mourned. Eventually, I couldn’t stand seeing them treated and killed as pests anymore, so I joined the army and left.” He fell silent, realizing what he had just said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to equate canine lives to your sisters in arms. It’s just the deepest connection I’ve ever had outside of Maya.”

“I understand.” Winona smiled at him gently. “You forget that at the end of the day, we fae are beings of nature. It’s common among my kind to find connections to the disk—its flora or fauna—over your own kind. The order was like a family to me, but now they’re gone. I feel closer to the sun and moon than the people fighting by my side.”

“You’re not much of a fighter at all,” Flint replied, chuckling. “I can see it in your eyes, Winona. You don’t want war.”

“I don’t. I’d rather be free, but that’s not the disk we live in. You’re naïve trying to stay out of this mess. It’s important to pick a side and make a stand. I don’t know about the Iron Council, but we don’t want to eradicate humans. We just want to stop their mad expansion into our lands and destruction of the disk.”

“Humans aren’t destroying the disk!”

“They always have!” Winona’s pitch and volume doubled as she spoke. “Your kind could never live in harmony with the wild but thought it necessary to tame it. Humans cut down forests to make their homes and plant their fields. Then they reproduce and what they had isn’t enough, so they destroy more to keep growing. Your people are destructive by nature. Now your love of iron pollutes the air and water. We tried to put up with it when the villages along our borders got sick. They had to move deeper into the wild, but the Iron Army took that as an excuse to expand.”

“I know they—we’re—not perfect,” Flint replied. “We’re not all the same, though. Most of us want to live in peace and quiet. Our apothecaries and alchemists have invented means to keep our numbers from uncontrollably increasing. Not everyone uses them yet, but they exist.” Despite Winona’s glare, Flint smiled and kept his tone friendly. They were having a discussion, not a debate. “Most of us are satisfied living in our villages and towns, keeping to ourselves and not killing each other. It’s the Iron Council—”

“At least before them, you were fighting each other more than us.” Winona snorted. She wiped her eyes and smiled. “I know not all humans are the same. In fact, after meeting you and your friends—even though you’re not fully human—my beliefs were confirmed. That doesn’t change the state of the world, though. Just wishing for peace won’t make the war go away. The age of heroes and champions is gone. Our only choice is to fight, win, and end this chaos.”

Flint sighed. “I guess we’ll just have to disagree on that front. From what you’ve told me, the high fae isn’t much better than the Iron Council. They’re just as power-hungry. Your side might not be polluting the disk, but they’re willing to kill innocents to find artifacts that might help them win the war. I’ve heard the phrase ‘collateral damage’ from my superiors one too many times, and I despise it.” He pushed himself onto his feet and dusted off his clothes. “The Iron Council abandoned this fort and village. The Wyld want to rip through it for the hope of probably non-existent power. As long as I breathe, neither of them is going to get their way. This is a safe haven free of war.”

“You’re an idealistic fool,” Winona stated, shaking her head. “The war will arrive at your doorstep sooner or later. You can prepare for it all you want, but it won’t change the fact that there are too few of you. Perhaps if you had a good supply line and a small contingent of soldiers trained for a siege, you’d have a chance. However, as things are now, you have no future. Not all of the Heartstone’s life quests work out, you know. Sometimes taking the class and moving on is the smarter choice. The stone gives you that option.”

The discussion wasn’t going anywhere, so Flint didn’t fuel it further. Instead, he took Winona’s chains in one hand and a cup in the other before setting off uphill. Maya walked by his side as he walked along the cliff, listening to the stone.

For the moat to function, it needed a source of water. Flint needed an inlet and outlet for it to work. He had seen trolls in action, and facing them again terrified him, so Flint didn’t just plan on adding one water barricade halfway down the slope but another outside the outer defenses too. Even though the life quest didn’t explicitly request such an addition, he believed it would be essential for their security. A narrow bridge would create an additional bottleneck and slow the stupid creatures.

Flint intended to investigate the local sewer system and feed the first moat into it. That would carry the water out of the walls and then provide the second deterrent. Flint found what he was looking for halfway between the Heartstone and the fort. He would’ve preferred it closer to the camp, but he didn’t just hear water but found a buried drain cover leading to the sewer network.

It took an hour for him to mark the area where he’d be digging and pinpoint the water source, but he couldn’t be happier with the progress. There weren’t too many buildings in the site’s way, so he wouldn’t have to clear a lot of rubble and only planned to dig ten feet deep and twice as wide. Just as Flint was about to start digging, Maya went stiff. She pointed her head to the sky and sniffed.

“What is it, girl?” He asked, but he only got an image of the outer walls and a jumble of colors. “Lead the way.” He smacked Maya’s bottom, and she went off running downhill.

“Is it the Wyld?” Winona’s back stiffened as she looked downhill. The buildings in the way obscured the view of the pass.

“I don’t know,” Flint answered. “C’mon, let’s go find out.” Then they took off downhill at a jog.

25

Flint and Winona were out of breath by the time they got to the wall—Winona more so than him. Mages weren’t known for training their bodies as much as their minds and arcane skills. They often relied on spells to bolster their physical prowess. Flint recalled Winona’s bolts reducing in number as she jumped along the roofs and pillars—she’d likely been repurposing their energy to enhance her body.

When they started climbing the stairs, Flint had to drag Winona behind him. Even though she’d proven herself a cooperative prisoner, he didn’t want to risk her running off to hide in the fort’s grounds and finding some way to unlock her manacles. Flint didn’t know whether she could use her magic during daylight hours and had no intention of finding out.

The emotions radiating off Maya from the parapets above concerned Flint. He sensed a combination of fear, excitement, and curiosity. She didn’t send him any images, though, leaving the suspense to build. Given the stitch in Flint’s side and his troubles catching his breath, it was probably for the best. The headaches that accompanied the images would make battling the stairs that much more challenging.

Winona’s eyes widened when they reached the top and found the source of Maya’s concern. It was the shaggy, horned creature from the night Flint found Lea’s sword. It sat at the bottom of the slope, just beyond the grass’s end. The creature’s club sat next to it, standing on its weighted end. The weapon was almost as tall as the monster and appeared to be made of dense wood tied together with braids of hair. It sat cross-legged, glancing between the wall and a boulder as giant as its head. One of the beast’s four-fingered hands held a skinny black implement while the other kept the rock steady.

“What in the world is it doing?” Flint asked, furrowing his brow.

“Carving,” Winona said. “It’s a hill giant. They live mostly along the edges of the Gator Teeth and similar ranges near disk edges.”

“That’s good, and all, but is the monster dangerous?” Flint leaned over the parapets, squinting his eyes. Despite [Keen Eye]’s enhancements, he still couldn’t determine the monster’s face behind all the shaggy fur. “What the hell does it want?”

“I don’t know. They’re known for their unpredictability. Hill giants mostly stay within their territories and only leave to hunt game during dire times. Given the time of the year, there should be plenty out there for it to kill and eat, though.” Winona’s brow furrowed as the hill giant looked up at them, its green eyes glinting through the fur. Flint spotted four. “Some fae settlements offer them tributes for protection. They don’t get involved in wars but keep the more violent creatures of the disk edge away. I’ve never seen one like this, though. Those eyes and the horns just don’t feel right.”

Flint and Winona held their breath as the creature climbed onto its feet. It waved at them, and Flint awkwardly waved back. “Maybe it’s friendly?” He asked. “I saw it the night I went up to the fort. It watched us for a while from a distance before walking toward the western hills.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Winona said. “Though they avoid settlements, hill giants are brutal when they get in. They don’t care what you are. As long as you’re not another giant, they’ll happily eat you.”

“So the offerings and tributes function as protection from them too?”

Winona nodded.

The hill giant squatted and used its knees to lift the giant block. Then it leaned back, adjusted its footing, and hurled the rock at them. “Get down!” Flint exclaimed, pulling Maya off the ledge. He pressed his hands to the stone, inhaling deeply before calling for [Reinforce]. The familiar golden light flowed down his arms and into his hands. A pulse spread from his palms since there were no cracks to fill. Much to Flint’s surprise, the light’s brightness and reach were much greater than his last use. He guessed it had gained strength when [Building] turned into [Defensive Construction].

The boulder struck the wall, shattered, and sprayed either side with shrapnel. Flint jumped to his feet straight after to check on the giant. It stood in place, leaning on its club. After a couple of minutes of staring, it waved again, turned around, and walked off to the left of the pass, disappearing from view. Flint jumped to his feet as soon as it was out of sight and rushed to the wall’s edge. He hung from the parapets, looking for damage.

Except for a chip above the gates and dirt from the boulder, the wall was more or less unharmed. He picked up a fragment and gave it a quick study. “It’s brittle,” Flint said. “I reckon it would’ve damaged the old wall, but this one is much too strong for that.”

“What does that mean?” Winona asked, furrowing her brow.

“I don’t know. The hill giant might’ve been testing our defenses, or maybe it was a warning.”

“Why in Luna’s name would it wave, though?” She took the stone from Flint and ran a finger along the clean break. “Hill giants consider themselves funny. It might’ve been messing with us too.”

Flint sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “As if I didn’t have enough concerns already,” he grumbled.

Flint cracked the doors open and collected the fragments, looking for whatever the hill giant was carving. It took them an hour to gather the pieces and get a rough image together. “Is that the sun?” Flint asked, squinting and angling his head. It looked like a dot with lines coming out of it like rays of light.

Winona shook her head. She ran an index finger along the rough groove drawn across the image’s center. It went up and down and zigzagged all over the place. He had assumed it was a crack. “This looks like the mountains, and I think that’s the fort or whatever you found hidden in it. Certain magically sensitive creatures can visualize and feel magic much better than humans and the high fae.” Winona’s tone and stiff shoulders gave away her concern. “Hill giants can sense magic, but it shouldn’t be acute enough for a visualization,” she said. “This is worrying.”

“Let’s head back.” Flint kicked the stones, scattering them, before leading Winona inside and working the gate’s closing mechanism. He froze when he spotted a human-sized movement on the horizon. Flint’s breath caught in his throat as he prayed that it wasn’t more fae. The wind picked up, and the shapes disappeared. It was likely they’d seen the hill giant too. Hoping the monstrous presence would keep the strangers at bay, he secured the only entrance into the fort. “Maya, look out for movement,” he said. “If nothing shows by sunset, run up to the camp. Alright?”

Maya yapped her approval and won a head scratch for her understanding. “Let’s head back up. We’ve lost most of the morning already.”

The pair headed uphill in silence, and Flint tried to picture bringing down a hill giant. The creature’s physical prowess was bad enough. Without an alchemist’s creation, powerful weaponry, or someone with a well-trained [Mind Node], bringing the beast down would be impossible. He bet Winona’s magic would fare well against it, but she’d be of no help, of course. The class quest felt like his only solution.

Flint hoped guiding Maya and Bjorn into the next stage of their existence would improve their chances. If he got a powerful skill stone for his [Mind Node], then he could train the skill to bring down larger threats too. It would come in handy when the Wyld’s war beasts and trolls inevitably arrived at their gates.

“The fae don’t use skill stones or nodes, do they?” Flint asked as they closed in on his build site.

“We have nodes but don’t require stones,” Winona answered. “Looking at how Bjorn has grown, I assume you can guide his growth?” Flint nodded. “It’s similar for us. We fae are one with the land. We breathe the disk’s essence and hold onto pieces of it to refine and strengthen our cores. Whatever our body doesn’t naturally distribute to bolster our minds and bodies, the Heartstone lets us distribute.”

“That’s fascinating.” Flint tried to imagine what Winona’s Node Compass and the space around it looked like. He bet it was more complicated than Maya’s or Bjorn’s. “Let me guess. You invested heavily in the [Mind Node]?”

“The order pushed us to naturally train toward every node before distributing the Heartstone’s collected essence,” Winona replied. “I distributed the bulk of it between [Mind] and [Aura] and saved some for [Control]. Balance is necessary for success.”

“I couldn’t agree more. It’s not fair that the Heartstone doesn’t give you nodes and skill stones, though.”

“We don’t need them. All fae have the natural ability to refine essence and use magic. It takes more effort to reign in and practice cultivating the disk’s energy than the skill stones, and an individual’s talents can differ. However, we live longer than humans and therefore have more time to master our gifts.”

Flint eagerly got to work once at the worksite. He attacked the surrounding rubble first. Turning them into blocks made everything more manageable and tidier. He needed ample space to work and dig. Winona had protested, but he had bound her chains to a nearby wall. Flint didn’t feel great about the action, but she was still a prisoner at the end of the day. Despite the relaxed tone of their conversation, he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

At the same time, Flint was thankful for her presence. He had learned more about the fae and gained an understanding of the war than ever before. The Iron Army’s propaganda kept them from asking too many questions regarding the enemy. The soldiers and builders were allowed to learn about the different Wyld troops, their physical prowess, and potential spells, but rarely anything more. It felt good to know that humans and fae were more or less the same despite the animosity.

With every passing hour, Flint got more focused on the job at hand, and his muscles relaxed. For once, not hearing anything from Maya was a good thing. He felt terrible about her staying on the walls, but at the same time, it was reassuring to know no threats were heading toward them.

The armies rarely moved after nightfall. Flint doubted wild beasts were a significant threat to either side, but it felt foolish to attract their attention. Most Iron Army contingencies were trained to fight the creatures of the night. However, such encounters almost always ended with injuries, if not death. Flint guessed it was the same for the Wyld’s troops. Neither side wanted their troops hurt before a major fight.

Besides, not all fae had night vision either. Flint guessed Winona’s magic let her see in the dark just as well as in the light, but pucks and sylphs didn’t share the same gifts. If not for her, her party would’ve probably not traveled in the dark—Flint didn’t know about brownies, but the puck archer’s inaccuracy made more sense. As dusk approached, the chances of an army descending on the fort reduced, and Flint finished the day’s work on a high note. He hadn’t started digging yet, but the site was clean, and he had plenty of building blocks for future projects.

26

“What’s the saying?” Winona asked, furrowing her eyebrows and staring at the fire. “That’s right! I know it’s like beating a dead horse, but you should talk to the villagers again.”

No one had attacked the fort during the night, and Flint wanted to enjoy his breakfast in peace, but Winona started on the subject again. He understood her concern, but it annoyed him that she wouldn’t just leave the matter alone.

“I’ve been thinking about it, Flint, and if the hill giant sensed magic flaring in the fort, others would have too. If the word gets around and they bump into a scouting party, things might get dangerous. Brownies can converse with hill giants, you know, and they sing for wine or spirits.”

“You’re not changing my mind, Winona,” Flint said, finishing his porridge.

“What about the shadows you spotted yesterday? I caught a glimpse of them too. The iron keeps me from casting magic through my hands and feet, but my eyes are still much more powerful than yours.”

“Don’t say that in Twylip’s earshot,” Flint commented, chuckling. “She’ll blindfold you with iron.”

“That girl is paranoid.”

“Well, you came here planning to trespass on her home ground. Can you blame her for not trusting you?”

Winona didn’t answer. Adam watched them talk, shoveling porridge into his mouth. He and Twylip had heard the rock thrown the day before but had mistaken it for Flint taking down an unstable building. When he told them the truth of what happened, Adam’s face had paled. Twylip explained that they had heard terrifying tales of giants but had never seen them in the village. Nothing dared brave the steep cliffs of Lea’s Slumber. There were almost-vertical drops, and it was too smooth for handholds. The mountains beyond were just as bleak.

It gave the villagers their security, and they liked to believe threats like giants only existed in bedtime stories. When faced with the matter, neither Twylip nor Adam knew how to react. It urged them to help Flint complete his quests quicker. Besides the hope of usable skill stones, they too wanted to discover the [City Planning Table]’s purpose and abilities.

After breakfast, Maya and Bjorn returned to the wall. Since they still had plenty of meat, the dogs didn’t need to go hunting, and Adam no longer needed help by the inner defenses either. Flint felt bad about Maya hanging around alone as well. He hoped as a pair, they’d keep each other company. Seeing two monstrous canines on the walls would hopefully deter invaders too. Bjorn was almost as big as a fae-touched wolf now, after all. Maya didn’t have the same height or width, but she was still larger than most dogs. Flint hoped that together they posed an imposing-enough threat.

Adam parted ways with Flint and Winona at the dig site. Digging began as soon as the prisoner was secure. Flint went across the pass first, digging a two-foot-deep depression the size of the moat. One side of the slope was taller than the other, of course, so before going deeper, he started on the bridge. After a day of clearing rubble, he had enough stone for a decent arch bridge.

First, Flint created a pair of support beams at the halfway point. A single vertical slab would’ve been better, but Flint wanted an easily collapsible structure. After creating the columns, he used [Shape] to dig deeper around the columns. He occasionally used the ability to compress and reinforce the stone too. It would be a disaster if the structure collapsed due to instability.

Once the depression was ten feet deep, he expanded the deep hole on either side. Once again, he wished he had picked up an apprentice or had someone with enhanced strength or durability to help. Carrying the blocks out of the hole used more energy than creating them. On the bright side, Flint noticed that it was taking longer for him to tire out. He couldn’t tell whether his body had more to give or [Shape] had become more efficient, but it was a bonus either way. Now that he was no longer with the Iron Army, it was his most valuable ability as a builder.

By lunchtime, Flint’s arms wanted to fall out of their sockets. However, Twylip and Adam would need a method of crossing the gap without going to the trench’s unfinished narrow sides. So, he pushed on to form a temporary platform to help them cross.

Flint felt Winona’s eyes on him as he worked. It wasn’t just a stray feeling, but his empathic sense had gotten used to her. The information coming off her was much weaker than what he felt off the dogs and hounds, but it was still something. It didn’t matter, though—most of what he detected was alien. Flint guessed as a high fae, her mind worked differently from others. After all, magic was an ingrained element of her existence.

The lack of hostile intent reassured Flint. He knew for sure that Winona didn’t mean him harm. In fact, he could tell that even though she wasn’t happy as a prisoner, she felt better about it than fighting for the Wyld. Flint preferred not pushing the matter. At the same time, he didn’t know what to do about her. Keeping her prisoner forever wasn’t an option.

Sooner or later, he’d have no choice but to set her free. It was the right thing to do. However, he needed first to ensure that Winona wouldn’t sell them out straight away. Flint knew it was idealistic, but he couldn’t think of anything better. The thought of killing her or locking her in a box made Flint’s stomach turn. He wasn’t a soldier or a madman. Flint had killed several pucks in self-defense but never in cold blood. Pulling the crossbow’s trigger had gotten much harder ever since he fought one up close for the first time. Sensing their emotions and fear filled him with dread. The last one had turned out even worse.

Flint was almost done with the bridge’s framework when Twylip and Adam appeared, walking downhill. She was busy talking while the heavily bearded man listened intently. When the pair spotted Flint, they smiled, waving at him.

“By Lea’s upper lip hair, Flint!” Twylip swore, making the men laugh. “This is brilliant progress!”

“It’s not a lot,” Flint replied, taking a moment to stretch his back. “I didn’t do much besides dig a deep hole.”

“It’s the Heartstone,” Winona said. “I reckon it increased your inner essence stores for completing the first objective.”

“How’s that possible?” Twylip asked. “Wouldn’t his skills need to gain rank to become more energy-efficient?”

Winona didn’t answer, leading Flint to wonder whether it had anything to do with his fae heritage. He hadn’t opened up to his new friends about being a Woodson yet. After several fae almost trespassing on their lands, he didn’t know how they’d react to him being a Woodson. Most of the Iron Army’s soldiers had retracted their praise after discovering the truth. Flint worried it would be the same for them. He wondered whether his body passively absorbed the disk’s essence too. Once Flint got some alone time with Winona, he planned on asking her about it.

Flint placed stone along one side of the bridge’s skeleton and used [Bind] to attach them to the framework. It wasn’t much but enough for Twylip and Adam to cross the gap without climbing down into the trench. It wasn’t deep along the sides, but he still wanted it in an acceptable state. A familiar tug pulled on Flint as soon as he placed the last block. It was the Heartstone. He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what it could be.

“Strange,” he said. “Did you already finish the garden, Twylip?”

She smiled, nodding. “We cleared away all the rubble, ground up the bones of everything you’ve killed, spread it, and tilled the earth. Adam and I spent the last hour planting potatoes, carrots, and onions. Miss Lya promised me cuttings of her rosemary and berry bushes too. With my [Herbology] fueling the growth, we should see returns by this time in the next lunar cycle.”

“That’s amazing!” Flint exclaimed. “I reckon the Heartstone considered my completing the bridge another requirement met—we’ve already completed one of the objectives!”

“Does that mean you might get another skill stone?” Twylip asked.

Flint nodded eagerly. He used [Shape] to detach Winona’s chains from its binding spot, handed them to Adam, and rushed downhill. Twylip chased after him. Due to her heavier frame, she ran out of breath less than halfway to their destination but didn’t slow. Flint respected her drive and willpower. Most of the heavier soldiers and builders in the Iron Army were notorious for their lazy attitudes and refusal to push themselves. He considered it a shame Twylip never got the chance to enlist. She’d have made a brilliant career for herself with the right opportunities. It was good for Flint that she hadn’t, though. She didn’t have combat or building prowess but had already proven her worth twice over.

Once at the Heartstone, Flint pressed his hands to the structure and communed with it straight away. He once again found himself in the restored Sleeping Fort. The pedestal in front of him no longer had a book lying on it. Instead, it housed three skill stones. Flint held his breath as words appeared on the stone, labeling them.

[Agriculture]

[Alchemy]

[Enchanting]

Flint held his breath, rereading the labels. Agriculture would likely be essential in the distant future if they ever found someone interested in growing crops. However, they didn’t have enough open grounds in the fort to fill such a purpose. Besides, the garden and hunting were enough to feed five sets of mouths.

Meanwhile, [Alchemy] and [Enchanting] were both second-tier skill stones. The first would benefit Twylip. Combined with [Apothecary] and [Herbology], it would turn her into a source of valuable concoctions. Having access to alchemist-made bombs would make fighting larger forces much easier.

[Enchanting] was another exciting option. He wasn’t sure how it worked but guessed it was the source of enchanted weapons, armors, and tools. Flint had seen breastplates that shocked anyone that touched them, floating shields that rotated around their wielder, and war hammers that left a chilling aura in their wake. He had no idea how it would function in his [Mind Node], but Flint wondered whether it would let him enchant bolts and increase their destructive capabilities.

After a moment’s thought, he decided against it. The class quest was bound to offer him something just as good. There was no guarantee of the life quest offering him [Alchemy] again. It was much too well-suited for Twylip. Flint had seen archers tie alchemist vials to their arrows, firing them together for devastating effects. She could do the same for him when war knocked at their door. So, he made his decision.

Innate classer privilege unlocked!

You may now swear others into blood oaths, cementing agreements and gaining much-needed security.

For a blood oath to form, both parties must agree to the terms with an exchange of goods, services, or privileges.

The blood oath lasts until you perish or the class quest’s purpose exists.

Breaking the oath will result in continuous torturous pain until the swearer remedies the mistake or dies.

Flint hated the ambiguous language. The Heartstone didn’t outline a blood oath’s parameters or define what it meant by goods, services, and privilege. He didn’t quite understand what the ancient pillar meant by “class quest’s purpose” either. However, he couldn’t deny the privilege’s benefits. He’d gain more skill stones from the class quest, and oaths could ensure people would use them to help him. If he recruited more people to protect the fort and man it, blood oaths would ensure their loyalty too.

“What did you get?” Twylip asked, wide-eyed when Flint broke his communion with the Heartstone. He smiled at her.

“Do you swear to commit yourself to this fort’s interests?”

“My fellow villagers might not like me for my lineage, but there are still people up there who have shown me kindness.” Twylip stood tall, looking directly into Flint’s eyes. “As long as the fort’s interests include protecting the village that lies behind it, I’ll serve as its apothecary and alchemist.” She pressed a hand to the Heartstone. “I swear it to you on my life.”

“Do you agree to a blood oath? Breaking it will result in terrible pain. Only penance or death will remedy it.”

“As long as you agree to my terms, I agree to a blood oath.”

Flint touched the stone monolith too. The runes flared, and the structure hummed. “If you ever break your promise, the [Alchemist] skill stone shall return to me. If I am no longer among the living, it shall pass onto any heirs or descendants I leave behind. Otherwise, [Alchemy] is for you to keep through life.” He’d seen life oaths several times before but never been part of one. Now, he understood their power and how the Heartstone ensured no one broke them. A tingle ran down Flint’s spine before the structure’s glow ebbed.

Twylip slotted the stone into her [Mind Node] before the pair returned to camp for lunch. It was going to be a good day. Flint could feel it in his bones.

27

Excited to get his hands on another crafting skill stone, Flint jumped headfirst into creating deterrents to slow down attackers. It took an afternoon and another day of work to finish the bridge. It felt like a stable-enough structure, but Flint’s experience suggested that it heavily relied on the supports at the halfway point. Adam proved his worth once again as he tried to figure out an efficient method of collapsing a structure.

Instead of making the supports solid beams, Flint substituted the bulk of the pillar with a giant loose block. Only the overhead bridge’s weight kept it in place. Then the pair created a weighted pendulum. They didn’t need to worry about wear and tear. The joint needed to stay well-lubricated but was only required to function once. After completion, they fastened the pendulum to the bridge’s top end. Once released, it would knock the block out of place and destroy any other supports.

According to Flint’s estimates, if anything as heavy as a troll got on top, the structure would collapse. [Architecture] suggested so, at least. He didn’t have professional training to accompany the ability, but it gave him good and bad vibes regarding structures often, and he thought it safe to trust his instincts.

On the third day since the hill giant’s visit, Flint opened the gates again when no other threats appeared on the horizon. They were running low on fresh meat, so he let the dogs out. He trusted Maya to have the intelligence to retreat if a significant threat appeared. Bjorn had accepted Maya as his superior in the pack and followed her instructions. Flint believed the big loveable bear was a bit of a coward too. He wouldn’t go on the offensive unless Maya was in trouble.

* * *

Maya loved chasing prey more than she liked killing them. Instead of thinking and pondering, she’d give in to her instincts and let them guide her during the hunt. They’d taught her how to direct her targets and force them exactly where she needed them to go. It required running in arcing paths instead of making a beeline for prey like Bjorn.

Fortunately, sharp reprimands in the form of nips to the side of the neck and snarls got the big lug to listen. He was slow on the uptake and took even longer to get over old habits, but Bjorn followed her lead and learned how to move in unison. Sometimes he’d still make mistakes, and Maya believed they were intentional. Bjorn’s ears would go flat, and he’d look at her with apologetic eyes whenever she reprimanded him. However, his tail would gently swish from side to side. The big fluffy snow dog enjoyed her attention.

Maya refused to give him any unnecessary affection. He was a lovely packmate and a good boy, but she found him to be too stupid. There was a daftness about Bjorn that hovered between annoying and adorable. No matter how hard she thought about it, Maya struggled to fathom which of the two it was.

It didn’t matter either way. Sooner or later, her human would find more dogs—he always did—and add them to the pack. He’d find a new girl, and Bjorn’s attention would shift to her. In her experience, that’s how most dogs were. She had discovered long ago that they didn’t like smart mates. In fact, clever girls scared more boys. Maya was sure the same would happen eventually with Bjorn.

As they sprinted into the tall grass, she slowed down. Otherwise, Bjorn would struggle to keep up with her. Together they ran into the endless green, sniffing at the air for prey. The scent of rabbits reached her nostrils first. Maya changed her course, following them for a while before coming upon their droppings. When she smelled them closely, almost no heat radiated off the little pellets. Her head drooped. The beasts were far gone, and Maya had come upon a dead end.

She didn’t give up. There were other beasts out there for them to hunt. Instead of cutting through the plains like usual, Maya led Bjorn along the mountains. They stayed off the road and moved through the grass. Across the cleared path, the ground sloped upwards, and giant trees covered it in darkness. When Bjorn turned toward it, Maya growled, setting him back on course. They both knew that huntable creatures roamed within. However, Flint had told them to stay on the plains. And as a good girl, Maya refused to go against his directions.

A new scent tickled Maya’s nostrils as she delved further into the grass. It wasn’t one she had ever smelled before, and she couldn’t wait to learn more about it. She yapped at Bjorn as the big furry lug followed her, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He replied with one of his funny-sounding calls, and Maya understood that he was eager to investigate too. She gathered that Bjorn wasn’t too bad. He could still communicate effectively, and that was more than she could say for most of the dogs she had met in the past. Only food and lust motivated them.

If given the choice, Maya always picked meat over fruit. However, as the strange smell got stronger, the sweetness left her confused regarding the source. It had to be delicious, though. She could feel it in her gut.

Then another scent entered the mix. Maya recognized it, and Bjorn’s excited gait suggested he did too. It was a moose. She wondered if the sweet aroma had attracted the beast too. If it had, she’d solve two problems with one run. Much to her annoyance, Bjorn let loose a soft, excited howl, giving her no choice but to nip his neck and shut him up. She understood that he was excited, but if Bjorn didn’t contain himself, their prey would hear them coming.

Maya wished Flint would occasionally join them for hunts. She missed investigating new discoveries with him. In the past, it was usually in cities—they’d smell something delicious in the air and track it down together. On the downside, Flint would eat most of whatever they found and only give her a bite or two. He claimed the food wasn’t good for her. Maya believed he didn’t like sharing.

When the smell got stronger, the pair slowed. Maya didn’t just smell the spicy, sweet smell in the air but also heard an unknown creature. Heavy breathing accompanied an odd chuffing. Bjorn almost charged at the sound’s source, but Maya pawed the bigger dog, slowing him. She fell into a crouch, and they proceeded slowly. Much to her annoyance, Bjorn’s tail took off once again, and his tongue hung out the side of his mouth. She didn’t appreciate the dumb expression during an otherwise tense situation.

The scent continued to strengthen, and the sounds got louder, but Maya failed to spot anything new in the tall grass. It continued to dance in the gentle breeze, waving and moving with the air. Then she spotted an immobile patch. It didn’t grow like the other local plants. Instead, they coiled and extended sideways. As the pair got closer, Maya detected rhythmic movement in the mass. It matched the heavy breathing.

Bjorn tried to wander closer toward the strange creature and received a swat to the back of his head. His head dropped as Maya lay flat on her stomach. He copied her, but she could tell from her eyes that he wanted to have a lick at the scent’s source.

Both dogs stiffened when a moose appeared to their left. Its eyes had widened, and its nose appeared to twitch uncontrollably. Maya guessed it too had detected the unfamiliar smell. However, unlike them, the beast had come under a strange compulsion. Maya could feel the tug at the corner of her mind. Something deep inside demanded that she investigate the smell closely too and lick the large white and pink flowers growing out of the beast’s grass-like fur.

The moose paused before the creature and sniffed. A giant paw shot forth and swiped the moose around the neck. The green-tinted claws missed and failed to break skin, but bone audibly cracked. The hoofed creature flew a short distance before crashing to the ground. It didn’t rise or make a sound again. Then the surrounding grass shifted as the green monster stood. It was a cat.

Maya didn’t understand why the dogs she had encountered in cities hated cats—perhaps they competed for the same scraps—but she didn’t mind them one bit. However, when she saw the beast in front of her, she knew straight away that they wouldn’t get along. It stood as big as Bjorn and had a thick grass mane full of flowers in different stages of blooming. Her nose suggested that they were the source of the sweet-and-spicy aroma. Similar thickets of fur ran down its spine and tipped its tail too.

Saliva dripped from Bjorn’s mouth as his eyes followed the flowers. Fortunately, he didn’t charge. Despite the big dog’s idiotic tendencies, he knew when to stop. The most curious thing about the beast wasn’t its strange appearance, though. It was the giant bolt sticking out of its eye and the several dotting the haunches. When the beast moved toward the moose, it limped, struggling to stay upright.

As Maya thought about it, everything fell into place. Like her and Bjorn, the cat belonged to a pack. Her nose confirmed the belief since she smelled others like the monster in the air. However, their scents were old and faded. She guessed the creature had attacked humans and suffered grievous injuries. In her experience, cats didn’t care for one another as much as dogs. The beast’s pack had abandoned it when the injuries kept it from following them. Now, it had to lay in wait for unsuspecting creatures to wander into the smell for food.

Maya believed it was time for the majestic specimen’s reign to end. The plains near her home were the pack’s territory. Cat or dog, they didn’t belong. Only Flint’s followers and prey were allowed in the area. Since the cat failed to meet the former requirement, it had become the latter.

Following her instructions, Bjorn remained where he sat while she circled around the beast. By the time she got behind it, the cat had just reached the moose. When it leaned down to sniff the animal, Maya charged, and Bjorn did the same from the opposite direction. The cat heard him but not her. It growled, backing away from the big dog, and ended up moving straight into Maya’s path. She lunged and landed on the cat’s back.

The monster spun, knocking Maya off before she could get a proper grip. Before it could lunge on her, Bjorn charged into it, growling. A loud, pain-filled roar escaped the cat as it staggered sideways, landing on its injured and bloody limb. It swiped blindly at Bjorn but failed to penetrate his fur. The attack slowed enough on meeting him for Bjorn to retreat before it could inflict major damage.

The cat had overcommitted to its attack. Its injuries left it unbalanced for several long moments, and Maya refused to miss the opportunity. She rushed forth and leapt on her struggling opponent. This time, she took a slower approach, letting Bjorn hold the beast’s attention. Bjorn’s feints kept it from getting upright. The cat resorted to swiping at Bjorn and growling whenever he got close.

When Maya barked, Bjorn repositioned, so he approached from in front of the beast. The angle made the cat a smaller target. However, it struggled to swipe at Bjorn now, putting him in less danger. Now that she didn’t have to worry about her packmate, Maya could focus on sneaking up on the beast’s injured flank. She lunged, digging her claws into the injured flesh to get a solid grip. Her opponent roared and thrashed but failed to shake her off once again.

The wounds on the creature appeared human-made, confirming her suspicions. It looked as if the creature had taken several spears and blade swipes to its haunches. When Maya chomped the flesh, tasting the blood, a warm sweet-and-spiciness danced across her tongue. The taste took her by surprise, and she understood why the moose had lost its senses, charging straight at the beast. Unfortunately, the moment’s pause gave the cat time to kick her off.

A high-pitched yelp escaped Maya. The kick didn’t inflict any serious injuries, but the shock of the blow had shaken her. Hearing her cry, Bjorn stopped holding back. He lunged forward and closed his giant maw around the creature’s head. For a moment, she marveled at his strength. Flint had changed him considerably since they had met, and she couldn’t help but feel impressed. Unwilling to give the cat any chance of striking back at Bjorn, Maya lunged and dug her fangs into its unprotected stomach. She shook her head violently, mauling flesh.

The cat writhed but failed to fight against the two dogs. Before long, it went still all together. Then Maya invited Bjorn to indulge in the delicious flesh. They moved on from the tough flesh and started on the liver and other inner organs. Excited whines escaped Bjorn as he devoured the organs hungrily. The fight had tired Maya out more than the bigger dog, but she still found amusement in his sounds.

Their stomachs filled, but the pair didn’t stop feasting. Maya detected scavenger beasts crawling toward them through the grass, but throaty growls kept them at bay. She couldn’t help but feel amused when Bjorn ripped an especially spongy internal organ and nudged it toward her using his nose. The blood stained his snout red, and Bjorn smiled at her with his usual goofy grin. Maya accepted the gift but ripped it in half with a powerful tug. She chomped on the pieces, savoring the flavor before pushing the other half back at the bigger dog. He whined at first, glancing between her and the food before giving in to his instincts and wolfing it down.

Much to Maya’s annoyance, a familiar sound reached her ears, interrupting their meal. She hopped onto the beast’s remains, and her eyes widened. Flint would want to know about the find. So, she yapped at Bjorn and took off toward home at a gentle trot. The bigger dog howled behind her for a second before following. It was a shame to leave behind a meal, but as a good girl and boy, they needed to prioritize Flint.

28

Flint had a new idea for a deterrent and posted himself atop the walls to build. He felt safer keeping an eye on the horizon. Twylip claimed other people of her generation were now warming up to the idea of working with Flint on securing the fort. It wasn’t just that she had a new skill stone, but she had something to do and a purpose, unlike most of them. Twylip believed too many people in Lea’s Slumber felt directionless. Sooner or later, more people would join in, and Flint hoped to find guards among them.

The new deterrent made use of the stones Flint couldn’t use for building. They either had too many other materials mixed in, making them unstable or were too heavy. He was considering using them for a foundation for a tower but found another purpose for them. However, they needed lumber for the project, and Flint had no way of procuring it. If he still had a cart and pack animal, he would’ve ridden along the Gator Teeth mountains to the tree-laden foothills, but that wasn’t an option.

Twylip came to the rescue. Lea’s Slumber didn’t have an alchemist. While an apothecary combined herbs, roots, flowers, and other plant matter to make various medicinal substances, an alchemist extracted their essence. When blended and transmuted together, these essences created a variety of concoctions capable of magical effects. Flint had only seen bombs, acids, and other destructive creations in action. He knew they made oils and mixtures to treat wood, leather, and other substances against the elements too, but that was it. Twylip showed him otherwise.

A weed called frost bloom plagued the farmers of Lea’s Slumber. They’d randomly pop up around their fields and freeze their crops, killing large patches if left unchecked. Twylip picked it as the subject of her first creation. She extracted the plant’s essence and worked it into a concoction that, when exposed to light, rapidly decreased the air’s temperature around it. Twylip created large batches of it and went around door to door, demonstrating her creation’s power. Instead of coins, she accepted goods or services in trade. In doing so, she procured large amounts of rope, lumber, iron, and a variety of other materials essential for the fort’s growth.

Flint had to build a new shelter to store most of it, but it gave him enough materials to get started. Flint used the lumber to create a wooden platform along the inside of the main wall. He made it strong and capable of supporting all the stray stones. The robust framework didn’t budge as he and Adam piled it high. Then Flint used [Bind] to fuse it all into one giant block. Using Adam’s growing mechanical knowledge, he rigged the platform to break if the gate ever collapsed. [Architecture] told him that when the slab fell, it would break in half before collapsing into the space where the gate stood.

Flint hoped it would crush anyone trying to break through and simultaneously function as an additional barricade. Ordinary infantry would require several hours of work to get through it.

“That’ll hold most mages and trolls for an hour at most,” Winona told them. “If it’s just you, that’s enough time to retreat and evacuate anyone that’s prepared. You might want to create escape routes, though.”

“What’s stopping you from pointing out our escape route as soon as the opposing force is inside?” Twylip asked.

“Nothing but my word. As I’ve said, you’re not the worst people.” Winona’s nose crinkled as she spoke. “Despite your tone and dump, unkempt form, I don’t want to see you dead.”

“Yeah, like I’ll believe that—”

“That’s enough, ladies,” Flint said, cutting the pair off. “Winona might be our prisoner, Twylip, but she’s been candid with us so far. There’s no reason for her to say anything. If I were in her place, I’d keep shut and memorize everything I saw, then feed it to my saviors. Instead, Winona is trying to help us, giving away information and providing sound advice.” Then he turned his attention to the fae woman. “As for you, Twylip might be suspicious of you, but she’s been supplying salves and bandages for the manacles without my asking. In fact, getting new clothes for you was her idea as well. So, if our positions were swapped, I wouldn’t antagonize someone trying to make you comfortable.”

Twylip rolled her eyes and descended the stairs, leaving the pair alone on the wall. She didn’t leave the area altogether and focused on arranging the herbs she had gathered from just outside the walls.

“Are you sure you’ve never been in a leadership position?” Winona asked softly.

“Why do you ask?”

“You’re fair and diplomatic when you have no reason to be,” she answered. “I’m your prisoner, and she’s sworn a blood oath, tying herself to you. Most would issue commands and not bother with discussions.” Winona’s ears turned a red tint as she averted her eyes. “I can respect that.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Flint asked. “You’re not…You don’t feel like the worst person ever. We’re all craftsmen and artisans here. My leadership experience was never formal and is limited to directing inexperienced builders when the foreman dumped me with the newbies on a side project. Meanwhile, you have real combat experience and appear to understand forces that’ll oppose us. I understand that you might not want to betray your old allies, but I can promise you freedom and respect—”

“I appreciate that, Flint. I really do. But, let me make one thing clear. My loyalties don’t lie with the Wyld.” She straightened herself and focused her eyes on the horizon. “I used to fight for the Order of Sun and Moon. Now, I continue to serve for the good of fae-kind. There are countless small voices stuck in this conflict who don’t know why they or their families have gone to war.” Winona sighed. “You’re right. I hate this war and want nothing more than it to end. Due to my role, I’ve never known peace, but I’d like to return to a time when the only troubles were beasts or tunnel beasts trying to breach the disk. As a result, I must continue to fight. Unfortunately, you and your friends will be in the path of those I serve, and if ordered, I might have to kill you. The thought upsets me, Flint. Which is why I think you should flee.”

“Well, that’s not happening.” Flint smiled at her gently. “I don’t understand people as well as dogs, but I’m sure the people of Lea’s Slumber will not leave their homes. They don’t like me and won’t listen to me.” He laughed. “Saying that out loud, I don’t know why I’m here trying to protect them, but when given a task, I like seeing it through. The Heartstone believes this land is of significance, and given my inclinations, likely believes it might play a role in ending the war. So, I intend to stay here and do my job.”

“We could’ve been friends in another life and time,” Winona said. “You’re a person with respectable drives and morals.” A tiny dimple formed on her cheek as Winona smiled. When her eyes drifted down to Flint’s lips, a shiver ran down his spine. He had studied hers quite a few times during their conversation as well. Winona’s manacle clinked when she raised her right hand. She froze and returned her attention to the stone barrier. “The barricade needs iron fragments and perhaps some of those freezing concoctions if you want a fighting chance. It might cripple any trolls attacking it and buy you another hour or two.”

“That’s a great idea,” Flint replied, clearing his throat. He had let his mind wander during the conversation and brought it back to the subject on hand. “The freezing reagent, when exposed to light, will chill melee troops long enough for us to focus fire on them.”

Flint raced down the walls and relayed the information to Twylip. She agreed to the idea and appeared surprised that Winona had been its source.

After finishing the project, Flint took a moment to sit atop the walls and enjoy a fresh fruit snack with Winona and Adam. They were busy discussing new traps ideas—it surprised him to hear the moon mage sharing trap ideas used by her order’s old temples—when the dogs returned. Maya ran up the slope, barking excitedly while Bjorn followed, dragging the biggest moose yet. At first, Flint thought they were excited about their catch until he spotted horsemen heading down the path through the Verdant Plains. Flint guessed they were the shapes he had spotted after the hill giant’s visit.

The horsemen took the westward path, turning on the road and disappearing from sight. Flint didn’t relax, though. He suspected they were scouts getting a closer look now that there were no giant monsters in the area. Several minutes passed when another group of horsemen appeared. There were three of them, and they wore the Iron Army’s colors. Winona stiffened next to him as the sound of hooves, and metal clanging reached their ears.

Two wore armor, while the third appeared to be dressed in the army’s traveling cloak. Despite [Keen Eye], he failed to discern their identities from their current location. Flint didn’t know what they wanted and didn’t want to take any risks.

“Adam, can you let the dogs in and then get Winona out of here?” Flint called. “It’s for the best if none of you are near the walls when they get here. So you go with them, Twylip.”

Adam nodded and rushed down the stairs. Winona appeared hesitant. Flint didn’t think she could get any paler, but the moon mage had somehow turned pallid. He understood her concern. If the Iron Soldiers saw her ears and eyes, they’d recognize her as a soldier of the Wyld and would want her put down or handed over. Standing in the way would mark Flint as an enemy, and things would turn ugly. He’d prefer to avoid the situation altogether, so it was for the best if she kept away from the wall.

Then they got closer, and Flint’s heart rate picked up. He recognized the two armored men in the lead: Captain Ironheart and the officer who’d handed him [Canine Friend]. He struggled to recall whether the man called himself Smith or Orwell, but he held the rank of colonel. A hundred questions ran through his mind at once. Flint racked his brain but couldn’t fathom their reason for coming all the way to the Sleeping Fort. He wondered whether the Iron Army had changed their mind regarding the settlement due to his life quest. Then the idea of someone reporting the pulse from Lea’s sword filled him with dread.

Flint felt worse about interacting with the sword with every passing day. Mr. Mayor and Percy were looking for it too, but he wasn’t sure whether the weapon would react to them in the same way. In fact, they probably wouldn’t be looking for it if not for his arrival. He tried to justify to himself that Winona’s party would have investigated the fort anyway. If they sensed anything, the village would’ve faced hard times.

At the same time, he knew the likelihood of such a scenario was low. Percy wouldn’t have dug into the basement if not for him, and the sword would have remained dormant. The scouting party would’ve caused a small disturbance and then left. The life quest and then his curiosity had created the scenario.

It was the Heartstone. It wants the Champion of Equilibrium protected. Perhaps it wants me to find and equip them too!

No matter how much he tried to reassure himself that it wasn’t his fault, Flint couldn’t shake the guilt. He settled for bottling his emotions and waving at the approaching party. They waved back, closing in on the slope leading up to the wall.

When Maya and Bjorn joined him on the wall, he tried to shoo them away. After all, the fewer questions the army asked, the better. He preferred omission to straight-up lying. However, both dogs were curious and probably sensed his concern. Maya decided to stay by his side no matter what happened, and Bjorn copied her like always. Flint relented, telling himself that the scouts had probably sighted them already.

“Flint Woodson!” The leading officer called, stopping in front of the gates. “It’s great to see you!” Flint smiled and nodded at the man as Captain Ironheart stared daggers at him. “The defenses look much better than what the old contingency reported. I see you’ve been putting in a fair amount of work.”

“I do what the life quest tells me,” Flint said. “How can I help you, gentlemen? I thought the Iron Army was focusing their efforts on the defensive lines and the more central settlements.”

“Were we introduced, Flint?” The man asked. He climbed off his horse, groaning, and cracked his back. “I’m Colonel William Smith. We’re glad to see you’re making progress. I knew a man of your caliber would have little trouble with such a quest.”

“Thank you, Colonel.” Flint put on his best smile. He could tell the man was sucking up to him before asking for a favor. “Nice to see you as well, Captain Ironheart. It must’ve been a long way for you to get here.”

“Not everyone at my rank agrees, but this quest of yours is important to humanity’s survival,” the colonel continued, not giving Captain Ironheart a chance to reply. “We suspect the fae are targeting significant sites from the last war. Our scholars are scouring the records, but we don’t know why yet.”

The man paused as if waiting for Flint to question him, but he held his tongue. Things were never so cut and dry when the Iron Council was involved. There had to be a catch or something else at play, and he wanted the man to speak up. Colonel Smith eyed the dogs when Bjorn made his usual yapping sounds and retreated closer to his horse.

“We were hoping you’d let us set up camp within the fort,” Colonel Smith continued. “Given the current climate, it’s safer if the men stay within the walls. We’ve brought builders to help you on your quest.” He glanced toward the third figure. The man lowered his hood, exposing his face. “I believe you know Edgar Greyrock. He was keen to see you.”

Seeing the teenager’s face waivered Flint’s resolve. He wanted to stay out of the war. However, the thought of turning Ed away made his chest ache.

“How are you doing, Ed?” Flint asked.

“I’m fine. Thank you, sir.” Ed’s voice sounded shaky as he spoke. He had bags under his eyes, and his collar bones stuck out from under his collar. Flint spotted new tattoos too. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to decorate their bodies with ink. However, such services were expensive, and it surprised him the boy could afford it as an apprentice. Flint guessed Ed had received a promotion following his departure.

“So, what do you say, Flint? Our caravan will be here by nightfall, and we’ve got refugees from villages along the way. Can you open the gates and let us in?”

“I need some time to talk to the village elders. The life quest might have placed me here, but I can’t claim ownership of the fort. At the end of the day, it’s up to them whether you get to enter the fort or not—”

“But we’re the Iron Army!” Captain Ironheart exclaimed, jumping off his horse. “We exist to protect them, so they must—”

Colonel Smith placed a hand on Captain Ironheart’s shoulders, and he fell silent. “I understand that things might have been difficult after our troops were forced to abandon them. Talk to them and get back to us, Flint.” He climbed onto his horse and smiled. “We believe in you, Flint. The Greenfinger thought you were an insolent liability, but Lord Ironheart and I know better. I know you’ll convince the villagers and do what is best for humankind.”

Captain Ironheart glared at Flint a while longer before following Colonel Smith downhill. Ed looked back at him a couple of times while heading down the slope but looked away soon after. Flint’s heart ached for the child. He imagined life was hell while under Captain Ironheart. They had probably shoved way too much responsibility onto him while not allowing him to learn the ropes. Yet Flint wasn’t sure whether letting them in was the smartest of ideas. He needed allies to continue his life quest and man the fort against future attacks. However, he worried about the Iron Army pushing their agenda on him.

29

Flint didn’t need or want the village’s permission. Yet, he sought Miss Lya’s counsel. The dogs stayed on the wall. Their howls carried much further ever since he’d improved their physiology with [Guide Growth]. If anything went wrong, they’d keep him in the know. Winona and Adam stayed in their camp while Twylip arranged their meeting.

It was close to mid-afternoon when Miss Lya hobbled up to the fort. It would’ve been much quicker for Flint to jog into Lea’s Slumber and back, but he didn’t want to ruffle feathers and attract unwanted attention yet. Flint needed Miss Lya’s help to break it to the villagers that the Iron Army was at their doorstep again and wanted to come in. Given Mr. Mayor and Percy’s unknown intentions, he wasn’t sure whether to tell her about the sword and magic pulse. He’d receive the blame for the occurrence. It was inevitable. However, the village needed to prepare for a probable fae army showing up at their door too.

When they sat down in the fort’s second floor, far from Percy’s prying ears, Flint’s heart was ready to burst out of his chest.

“Before we start, I’d like to thank you for sponsoring Twylip,” Miss Lya said. “Blood oath or not, it takes a lot of trust to hand over a skill stone to someone you’ve just met. I’m glad to hear Adam has found his drive too.” She beamed as she spoke about the pair. “That boy has more talent and a greater imagination than his father and brothers put together. For the longest time, I worried he’d disappear down the bottle like many of his generation, but you changed that. Good job, Flint.”

“Thank you.” Despite her kind words, Flint had to focus on his breathing to keep his heart rate under control. His temples felt like they wanted to crumple under the weight of his swelling brain. “Has Twylip told you about the matter at hand?”

“Which? Your high fae prisoner or the Iron Army at the gates?” Miss Lya’s smile faded. “I don’t blame you for either, but I wish you’d have gotten rid of the fae. I have nothing against her kind, but you don’t have the stomach to hold her prisoner indefinitely or kill her. If you set her free, she’s only going to bring more trouble.”

“I think it’s too late for that,” Flint said. “Trouble might already be on its way.” Slow breathing no longer kept his heart rate under control as he broached the subject. He worried his one ally in Lea’s Slumber would turn against him. “When Twylip told me Percy and Mr. Mayor were looking for Lea’s artifacts in the fort, I went up to investigate.”

“Go on,” Miss Lya said. Her shoulders slumped, and her face hardened. Flint guessed the village elder foresaw what was coming next. “I’m afraid I found something, and it sent out a pulse of magic. No fae have shown up at our door yet, but we’ve sighted a hill giant watching us a couple of times. It’s probably unforgivable, but I’d like your counsel, Miss Lya. My touch awakened Lea’s—”

“Don’t tell me,” she said. “Artifact is enough. The more I know, the more I have to lie. You awakened the forgotten fae arcana, and you’re worried that the Wyld’s armies will show up at our doorstep.” Flint nodded. Miss Lya’s eyes narrowed. “Is there something about your life quest you haven’t told us, son?”

Flint looked between Miss Lya and Twylip hesitantly. There was no point in hiding it anymore. “Yes,” he answered. “I didn’t want to cause concern and the villagers to panic or go crazy looking, but my quest sent me here so the next Champion of Equilibrium has time to grow.”

Miss Lya’s knees trembled, and Twylip had to jump to steady her. The young alchemist glared at Flint for a moment before focusing her attention on the older woman. When Flint stepped forward to help, both women waved him away. Twylip helped her to a chair, and Miss Lya groaned as she bent her knees before sitting down.

“That’s both good and dire news, Flint,” she said after taking a moment to herself. “I wish you would’ve told us this earlier, but understand this: it’s not your fault. If the Heartstone claims the next Champion will rise from the village, the war would’ve come to us sooner or later. Neither the fae nor the Iron Council wants another Champion. An entity that can force them to do anything is a major threat to both sides. The stories say that when a Champion rises, they don’t know how to control their power. As a result, they too send pulses through the disk which brings armies to their door.”

“That’s reassuring,” Flint said, exhaling loudly. “At first, I thought Winona—the high fae—was exaggerating when she said that the magic would’ve raised curiosity all around the Gator Teeth range and deep into the Verdant Plains. Now that the Iron Army is at our doorstep, I’m not sure anymore. What do you think I should do?”

“The Heartstones know better than I do, Flint. You’re the one with the life quest, and the final decision should be yours. However, Twylip tells me they have refugees in tow?”

“That’s what they claim. Only a trio of horsemen arrived at the gate, though, so I don’t know for sure.”

“In that case, it’s for the best if you let them in. Not just to help the innocents hurt by this war, but also because you need allies. If the Wyld’s forces aren’t already on their way, they will be soon.” Miss Lya sighed, using her cane and Twylip’s help to stand back up. “I’m going to keep an eye out for this future champion. Likely they haven’t awoken yet, but there will be no hiding it when they do. The Iron Council might turn on you too, so if you do welcome the contingency, try to win their favor or prepare to cut them out if things go south.”

“Thank you, Miss Lya,” Flint said. He avoided human contact as much as possible, but the urge to hug the older woman overcame him. She appeared to read his mind, smiled, and waved him closer. Flint embraced Miss Lya, and for a moment, he felt genuinely safe.

“At the end of the day, dear, the decision is yours. Listen to the Heartstone and your instincts. It chose you for a reason.” The warmth he felt from Miss Lya was much like the feeling he got when Maya, and now Bjorn, pushed him down to the ground and graced his face with endless kisses.

Is this what it’s like to have a grandmother?

“I’m going to head back to the village now,” Miss Lya said, letting him go. “It might be a headache figuring out how to explain to Mr. Mayor and the others, but I’ll keep quiet about the artifact and Champion for now. It will only cause panic.”

Miss Lya’s words appeared to have washed away Twylip’s concerns and annoyance with him too. She shot him a smile before leaving. Dusk was approaching when Flint returned to the wall. A caravan of wagons and carts already filled the bottom of the slope. Flint spotted men cutting back the tall grass and erecting a perimeter while others worked on starting campfires. He saw the elderly, women, and children among them too. They looked much like Ed: bags under their eyes and gaunt faces. Flint’s heart went out to them, and he found himself unsure.

Someone in the camp must’ve sighted him because a rider arrived not long after.

“The council is holding a meeting tonight,” he lied. “I’m afraid they won’t send me their decision until morning comes.”

After a lifetime of serving under better-informed and trained individuals, Flint found himself burdened with heavy decisions. He needed time to think. On one hand, letting them in felt like the right thing to do. The people looked tired and beaten. They needed his help and probably protection too. On the other hand, he didn’t trust the Iron Council, especially Captain Ironheart.

The more Flint thought about it, the more sure he became. He didn’t want the Iron Army’s help. They’d make a play at taking command of the fort, and he didn’t have the strength or manpower to stop them. Despite his status as a classer, Flint wasn’t a trained combatant. Twylip had arranged a fresh quiver of bolts for him, but it wouldn’t be enough against someone as decorated as the colonel. The man probably had combat-focused skill stones at the same rank as his [Defensive Construction].

Even though Captain Ironheart was a coward, as the son of a lord, he probably had powerful skill stones too. Similarly, the men and women in the contingency were likely in their second terms and strong. After all, as things got more heated, they’d need trained soldiers to make the journey to Lea’s Slumber while picking up refugees. The rider returned to the camp, and Flint stayed on the wall watching them. He wished they hadn’t shown up with refugees too. If it were just Ed, turning them away would’ve been easy, but seeing the skinny children reminded him of the orphanage.

During the early days of the war, resources had been scarce. The orphanage relied on the Iron Council’s funding and local donations. When the fae left the Iron Lands, they took their growing techniques and agricultural magic with them. The frontlines needed ample supplies, increasing the demands on human farmers. As a result, prices increased significantly while the donations dried up.

Flint saw too many of his fellow orphans starve to the point of malnutrition and then death due to resulting complications. Things improved eventually, but it was late for many of the little ones who ended up with lifelong problems. If not for the dogs sharing their scavenged and stolen meals with him, Flint was sure he’d have ended up the same as them. He didn’t want to play a hand in ruining the futures of the young refugees.

Once darkness fell, Adam and Winona joined him atop the walls with a bowl of warm stew. They were still working their way through the smoked venison, and it gave the dish a lovely, charred flavor. Adam seated himself on the parapets in the middle of the walls. His feet dangled over the edge while he ate. Meanwhile, Flint and Winona sat in the corner under the cliff’s shadow.

“How did you convince Adam to let you up here?” Flint asked. “He doesn’t seem like the kind to waiver.”

“I told him it might be my last day among the living,” Winona answered nonchalantly. “Since we—you—don’t have the resources to prepare a decent final meal, I’d like to enjoy it with a nice view.” She hesitated before smiling softly at Flint. “And company.”

“What makes you think I’m going to let them in? I have autonomy and freedom right now. If I let the Iron Army in, that’s likely to go away.”

“You will, though. I can tell from the look in your eyes, Flint. The thought of starving and traumatized refugees made the decision for you.” Winona sighed. “I don’t understand you, honestly. You keep me as a prisoner but don’t treat me as one. Whatever happened in your life to make you want to be so nice? Is it your bond with dogs? Do you think you’re turning into one?”

Flint didn’t have any words to reassure her or explain himself. He neither knew what to expect once morning came nor truly understood her reasoning. She was right on both counts, though.

If it were just Ed, he’d have found the strength to turn them away. Flint didn’t believe that he suffered from a bleeding heart or felt a compulsion to do good or help people. At the same time, after seeing the sunken eyes and gaunt faces, his conscience wouldn’t let him leave them to the Verdant Plain’s mercy. Besides hill giants, several threats haunted the Gator Teeth mountains and Verdant Plains. He’d been lucky to get through without incident.

As for being nice, Flint wasn’t sure himself. Perhaps there was some truth to Winona’s hypothesis. After spending so much time around dogs, he had grown as forgiving as one. That didn’t mean he’d kiss the hand that beat him. At the same time, Flint doubted he’d have treated a human prisoner the same way. After all, Flint could feel Winona’s surface emotions. It was much weaker than what he sensed off dogs and pucks, but there was still something there. The fact that she had similar feelings about the war influenced how he treated her.

Flint shook idle thoughts out of his head and focused on the camp below. Flint didn’t bother counting, but there were dozens of refugees, and watching them left him feeling guilty for not letting them in straight away. A group their size would attract attention. Judging by their scared faces, it was likely they already had.

Even though the past day had left him tired, Flint struggled to find his appetite. Anxiety for the day to come had his stomach in knots. He watched the steam rising from the bowl instead while Winona smacked her lips and enjoyed the venison. The moon mage appeared sure it was her last day among the living and treated the stew as her final meal. She occasionally looked up at the Plains and camp but then found another chunk of fatty meat and focused all her attention on it.

All of a sudden, she froze. When Winona hopped onto the parapets and toed the curving edge, he worried she would jump and kill herself. She didn’t, though. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the camp.

“Since when does the Iron Army trade in slaves?” she asked. “Isn’t that supposed to be above them?”

“What are you talking about?” Flint furrowed his brows, trying to see whatever she had spotted. “People accepted the Iron Council’s rule because they drove slavers out of the lands they controlled. It’s forbidden. Don’t the fae keep slaves—”

“Only the dark fae bend to such dark ways,” Winona replied through clenched teeth before pointing at a wagon on the far end of the camp. While most of them were empty with women, children, and the elderly sitting by the fire, the vehicle in question wasn’t.

Flint’s breath caught in his throat as he saw pucks, brownies, and several individuals with long slanting ears. The wagon was full of fae. They looked worse off than the humans. Large intricate tattoos covered their chests and necks, much like the designs on Ed’s chest.

“The brands are fresh. All the women and children have them too. Those aren’t refugees, Flint.”

“They’re deserters,” Flint whispered. “The soldiers, I mean. They have to be. The Iron Army wouldn’t stand for the return of slavery. By the Heartstone, the people supported the Iron Council because they executed the slavers and put their heads on pikes for all to see. The only humans that practice it live beyond the northern wastes, and the Vikings are the only ones who can survive the snow. If any of them cross the border into the Iron Lands, their heads end up piked as well.”

Then as he scanned the group, he saw the mentioned foreigners. The men and women were much taller than residents of the Iron Lands. They wore their hair in long braids and didn’t have any marks besides scars on their mostly exposed skin.

“I see them.” Flint stood next to Winona. Maya and Bjorn whined, looking up at him as his flaring anger seeped through the empathic link. “The armor they wear doesn’t fit and hasn’t been polished in years.”

Ed’s muted reaction to seeing him after such a long time and his horrid state suddenly made sense. They had turned him into a slave too. Colonel Smith and Captain Ironheart wanted to trick him and take control of the fort before turning it into a slaver camp. Flint had heard the Vikings had methods for finding tunnels and bridges between disks. Perhaps they knew of one nearby and wanted to use it to transport slaves. They were all criminals.

“Are you sure this isn’t the Iron Council acting desperately during wartime?” Winona asked. “We’ve been pushing them heavily. I’ve heard certain council members have found methods to get around your—the army’s defensive lines and attack settlements behind it too. It could be—”

“No,” Flint said, cutting her off. Then he relented. “Maybe. I don’t know. Before coming here, I met the Colonel and Lord Ironheart. It was the first time I met either of them, but I have served under commanders that serve the lord throughout my term. He’s a good, honorable man who treated everyone under him fairly. I’m sure he’d never stoop so low as to resort to slavery. I mean, his son got stripped of his cushy position for cowardice. The chances of Lord Ironheart or the council allowing slavery are low. They’ll lose the people’s support.”

“You need them to be deserters, don’t you?”

“I do.” Flint nodded. “Otherwise, a decade of my life was wasted serving monsters. I don’t think I can live with that, Winona.”

“What are you going to do, Flint?” Winona asked. “Are you going to turn them away? This probably has nothing to do with your life quest or the artifact.”

“No,” he answered. “We’re going to open the gates at sunrise and let them in.” He sat down on the parapets and dug into the stew. “Damn the life quest. I’m not letting the bastards get away with slavery.”

30

The gates to Lea’s Slumber opened not long after sunrise. Flint watched from atop the wall as the Iron Army soldiers and the Vikings burst into action, breaking camp and putting out fires. The latter dug old, unpolished armor from their carts and put them on.

“The bastards must’ve forgotten that I have [Marksmanship],” Flint commented through clenched teeth. “You can’t hide from [Keen Eye].”

Adam grunted next to him. A small smithing hammer hung from his waist, and he wore iron vambraces under his coat. For the first time since they had met, Adam had groomed his long curly hair and beard. They were both tied back in neat braids. It wouldn’t do much good once the fighting started, but Adam appeared more confident, and that was good enough for Flint.

When the gates opened, Maya and Bjorn wanted to visit the camp. They had heard barking and whines during the night. It was likely the slavers used hounds to keep their prisoners under control. A firm “no” and an empathic exchange of information was enough to convince them otherwise. Now, both dogs stood with him silently with their backs straight and ears stiff. The plan’s success relied mainly on the two canines. Their size, speed, and strength would be vital for bringing down the several combatants in their way.

A case of Twylip’s freezing concoction sat by Flint’s feet. It was empty. He had used [Shape] to insert them in his trap and carried a couple at his waist too. The budding alchemist wanted to stay and help them, but Flint sent her up to the fort with Winona. In case the plan failed, she was to collapse the bridge and close the fort’s doors. Even though the guards in Lea’s Slumber were poorly trained, he hoped they’d succeed at holding the structure and keeping the slavers out. Eventually, they’d run out of food and have no choice but to retreat.

Despite Miss Lya’s support, Flint didn’t send word to Lea’s Slumber asking for support. Instead, he advised Twylip to warn them at dawn and prepare their defenses. He didn’t want them involved unless their plan failed. Flint grew worried Mr. Mayor would interfere and screw up what he intended. Besides, victory required them to keep their numbers low. If the welcoming party featured too many faces, the Colonel and his followers would get suspicious. Then Flint would lose the element of surprise. Given that their opponents were trained and decorated combatants, it was an advantage Flint desperately wanted to keep.

If he failed and Twylip collapsed the bridge, she’d need the villagers’ help to hold the inner walls and fort. The gate mechanism wasn’t yet functional, but a barricade would suffice on the slope—or so Flint hoped. Without supplies, the slavers would fail to siege and would have no choice but to retreat. Perhaps out of desperation, they’d abandon their stock too.

Colonel Smith and Captain Ironheart led the caravan up the slope. Ed followed them on foot, leading a large crowd of children and young women. Flint counted twenty of them altogether. Some of them had fruits in hand and smiled as they devoured them hungrily. It helped paint a benevolent image of the two officers. Winona had explained how the slave marks forced people to follow orders and tortured insolence with pain. None of the approaching crowd were willing participants. The rest of them appeared as miserable as the night before but better rested. Flint guessed they’d been on the road for several days.

It came as no surprise that none of the fae were in sight. The larger wagons followed at the end of the caravan and had the heaviest guard. Heavy flaps covered either end, hiding the vehicles’ contents. A poorly painted healer’s emblem marked the fabric: twin snakes coiling around a hammer.

The guards at the back of the caravan wore old army-issued armor, but their weapons appeared out of place. Flint spotted large two-handed swords, axes of varying sizes, and large wooden shields. The iron cap at their centers was rusted and scratched. Flint was sure they were Vikings. He counted two by the second last wagon and eight of them around the last one.

“The assholes must think I’m stupid,” he whispered. “Do they really think those disguises will work? I was with the Iron Army for close to thirteen years!”

Flint inhaled and exhaled deeply. His nerves felt stretched to the limit, but letting it show wouldn’t end well for them. Colonel Smith and Captain Ironheart needed to believe he’d fallen for their plot. He could see their plan. The deserters would wait until everyone was within the walls, and they knew how to control the gate before turning on him—or so he hoped.

“Are you ready, Adam?” Flint asked and got a head shake in response. “We’re not going to survive this unharmed. They outnumber us ten to one.” Maya yapped, making Flint chuckle. “Alright. Five to one. I’m sorry, Maya. You and Bjorn are probably stronger than either of us.”

The dogs’ wagging tails stilled when they heard a surprised cry from the approaching caravan. Their ears angled to face it, and Flint rushed to the wall’s edge to get a better look. The two deserters smiled and waved at him. Meanwhile, Ed helped a little girl onto her feet while a middle-aged soldier stood over them. Flint waved back, keeping up the charade. He ran down the stairs, and his companions followed.

“I’m glad you made the right decision!” Colonel Smith exclaimed, crossing the gate’s threshold. “We were worried you wouldn’t want the Iron Army in your hair after becoming a classer.”

“I can’t turn away my old brothers in arms, can I?” Flint put on his best smile, waving at the children as they followed. He pointed at a monstrous stone cauldron full of hot porridge by the gate. Dozens of orange-sized stone bowls sat next to it, washed and ready to go. “I took the liberty of preparing breakfast for everyone. It’s just porridge with some cinnamon and apple, but I’m sure everyone is famished after their long journey.”

“That’s awfully nice of you, Flint,” Colonel Smith said, smiling. “Edgar, Ironheart, why don’t you help the children get their breakfast. We’ll dine too once they’re done.”

Captain Ironheart glared at Flint but nodded and did as instructed. Ed followed him, guiding the children away from the gate and toward the cauldron. It sat on the opposite side of the gate mechanism where Adam stood. Winona had suggested drugging the porridge. It would get the little ones out of the way while disabling the soldiers and Vikings. Twylip had shot the idea down.

There was no way for them to guarantee everyone would eat the porridge or approach it at the same time. Just one person passing out would alert the opposing force. Also, the concentration of drugs needed to knock out the commanding officers or the Vikings could harm or even kill the children and the malnourished individuals in the caravan.

“Is your friend alright?” Colonel Smith asked.

“He’s mute and not the best with people,” Flint answered. “The villagers aren’t too fond of him, but he’s a big guy, and I need help around the fort.”

“No wonder your company liked you. You take in the rejects, provide great hospitality, and work well.” The colonel sighed. “It’s a shame you left the army. We need more men like you. Things are getting worse out there. The Wyld’s forces aren’t just attacking outposts and towns but have started sieges on cities too. We had orders to gather refugees along the way but had to abandon a few villages due to heavy fae presence.”

“I understand,” Flint said, watching the carts of humans rolling in. Unlike the people, the horses appeared well-fed and plump. They’d make excellent additions to the workforce after the deserters and Vikings were gone. Even though he made a show of smiling and waving at the children coming in, Flint’s attention stayed on every armed man and woman entering the gates. He counted a half-dozen so far. Each cart and wagon had one driver, and then there were the eight Vikings following at the rear. They milled in slowly as the horses struggled against the steep incline.

Thanks to how Flint had dismantled the ruins in the area, none of the carts could stop side by side. Instead, they had to roll into the haphazard open spaces and struggled to make room for each other. It kept the cart drivers busy as Flint had hoped. Distraction, division, and surprise were their only means of overcoming the superior numbers and better-trained force.

“Do you have tents, or do you need me to erect shelters for everyone straight away?”

“We can sort that out later,” Captain Ironheart said, joining Flint and the colonel with two bowls of porridge. The superior officer accepted the breakfast and dug in hungrily. “This is great, Flint! We haven’t had a hot meal in days. We didn’t see a lot of game along the Gator Teeth range. It’s like they’re determined to maintain a strict division with the plains.”

Captain Ironheart’s change in tone made Flint’s hand itch for his crossbow. It hung from his shoulder with a stuffed quiver at his waist. Even though both men had bowls in their hands, Flint was sure they’d have no trouble cutting him down. Most weapon-focused skill stones enhanced the user’s speed. Both carried swords at their waists and shields on their back. He had never seen Captain Ironheart draw his weapon but was sure things had changed since his career switch. In fact, the man was downright clumsy.

“We’ve got a hill giant problem,” Flint said. “So far, only one has visited a couple of times. He threw a giant boulder at us not long ago. Fortunately, it didn’t damage the walls. I guess such a presence is enough to keep most wildlife at bay.”

“Hill giants?” Captain Ironheart’s back stiffened. He glanced at the colonel but got no response.

“We ran into a pride of Verdant lions a few days ago,” Captain Smith said, ignoring Ironheart. “It cost us a wagon of refugees and six men, but we were lucky enough to disable the pride’s leader and escape.”

“Survival is a bonus of its own.” Flint’s eyes drifted to the dogs. He had posted Bjorn by the cauldron, and much to his relief, all the children had crowded around him. They ate their porridge while stroking the big dog. Ed had taken control of serving and was now helping the women. Meanwhile, the people who had ridden in on carts didn’t move. It was for the best. There was less risk of them getting hurt if they didn’t disembark. Flint didn’t see the slavers’ dogs either. He guessed they remained hidden in the wagons.

Maya sat not far from him. Her head came up halfway up his chest when on her haunches now. She remained at attention, eyeing the armed men. Flint could sense her nerves through empathic sense. He tuned the deserters’ talk out while focusing on the empathic connection to Maya and the incoming carts.

Sweat dampened Flint’s shirt under his coat, and his heart rate picked up. When the colonel’s eyes left him to lick the porridge clean, Flint slipped his hand into his pocket and gripped a vial of the chilling concoction. It hadn’t activated yet while still in the dark, but that would change soon.

When the final wagon started rolling in, he did another count. There were twelve armed men and women within the walls. Two stood on either side of him, and three nonchalantly waited around Adam, talking amongst themselves. They tried to maintain a casual demeanor, but Flint noted their stiff backs and twitching eyes. The rest struggled with the carts. Meanwhile, the children and Ed were left unguarded.

Once there were no more vehicles left to enter the grounds, Flint pulled Twylip’s creation out of his pocket and threw it at the colonel. The man drew his sword in a flash and slashed at the container, breaking it. The mixture splashed his face, hands, and arms. Frost started forming straight away, making his skin peel, and a blood-curdling scream rose from his lips soon after. Barks sounded from inside the wagons straight away, but the hounds still didn’t emerge.

It was the signal Maya and Adam were waiting for. The sheepdog rushed toward the men sitting atop the wagons while Adam triggered the hidden mechanism by the door crank. The wooden platform erected around the entrance collapsed, and the giant stone slab it held fell. Flint didn’t see how many men it landed on, but blood splattered across the stone floor with a stomach-turning squelch. Cries sounded outside the walls as the slab cracked, spilling the hidden containers of Twylip’s freezing concoction.

The children screamed and tried to run, but Bjorn barked and got in their way. Flint had given him the task of guarding any non-combatants on foot, and the bear of a dog understood his responsibilities. The children and Ed retreated into the corner between the wall and the cliff, crying and screaming. Flint didn’t like scaring children, but it was necessary to keep them safe and out of the way.

Captain Ironheart dropped his porridge bowl and fumbled for his sword. Flint barreled forward, but his opponent swiveled out of the way. A foot hooked Flint’s ankle, sending him stumbling to the ground.

“A sucker punch isn’t going to work a second time, you filthy Wyldblood,” Captain Ironheart growled. “I’m faster and stronger than you in a fight.”

“You’re a cocky asshole, though,” Flint replied, putting some distance between him and Captain Ironheart. By the time the sword was out, Flint had already cranked his crossbow. He caught a glimpse of Colonel Smith on the ground, crying and wiping at his face desperately. The skin had darkened, and red-stained bits of it lay on the floor. Blood dripped from cracks between them. “You shouldn’t have come here, Captain. There’s nothing keeping me from killing you now.”

Ironheart charged just as he loaded the first barrel. Flint tried channeling [Focused Shot] to slow his perception of time, but it was too late for that. The deserter slashed wildly, forcing him to dive to the side. Flint fired as soon as he landed, but Ironheart covered his vitals with his left arm. The bolt bounced off the man’s vambrace, and he ran at Flint once again.

Rolling out of the attack’s path kept Flint from reloading his crossbow. However, he managed to stick his foot out and hook Ironheart’s ankle. The captain hadn’t yet lost his clumsiness and stumbled forward several steps before catching himself on the cliff wall. Flint scrambled onto his feet and ran toward Bjorn.

As predicted, Ironheart was much faster than him. He caught up with Flint without issue, forcing him to change direction. The sudden change made his pursuer stumble again, and Flint got the opportunity to load the crossbow’s second barrel finally. Instead of trying to escape Captain Ironheart’s following charge, he fell into a crouch and fired. The bolt bounced off the man’s armored chest but made him stagger, halting the charge.

Much to Flint’s disappointment, Captain Ironheart was on him once again. Despite his clumsiness and lack of practice, the lordling had speed that far surpassed an ordinary human. Flint guessed it came from a rare ability. Lord Ironheart had likely supplied him with several high-tiered skill stones. Fortunately, laziness and complacency ensured they were wasted on the captain. While the soldiers regularly practiced their drills and forms, the officer spent his days drinking, lazing around, and chasing skirts. As a result, the little complacency Captain Ironheart displayed surprised Flint.

Regular training would’ve trained the clumsiness out of Captain Ironheart. He displayed excellent form and greater speed, but Flint believed they were a result of Heartstone-granted abilities and not natural skill. If his opponent knew how to use them, Flint would already be dead. Instead, he dodged and danced around the sword, occasionally catching it on the crossbow’s stock.

Occasionally, Captain Ironheart got close to striking home. The blade’s top found ribs or arms. Poor timing ensured none of the attacks struck a critical blow. Flint suffered several scratches and a deep slice across his left pectoral muscle. Hot blood soaked his chest. A rising heart rate and throbbing skull made Flint’s breathing challenging, but he refused to give up focus. Victory was the only option. A loss would result in Maya’s death. He cared about Bjorn and Adam, but they weren’t as important to Flint as her. He refused to let any harm come to her.

The longer their exchange continued, the redder the captain’s face got. His breathing increased with every passing second too. It wasn’t long before Captain Ironheart made another mistake. Flint led the man close to where Bjorn stood. He overcommitted to a lunge, and Flint hopped out of the way, whistling. The big snow dog understood the signal and barreled into Captain Ironheart, knocking him down. Killing the man would be easy for him, but Bjorn understood his priorities. The children behind him tried to flee, and he was forced to return his focus to herding them.

Even though the dodging had drained Flint considerably, he refused to miss out on the opportunity. He used the time to not load one barrel but two. Instead of climbing back onto his feet, Captain Ironheart pulled the shield off his back and blocked the first bolt. His legs glowed red and blurred, helping him get upright much faster than humanly possible.

In retaliation, Flint channeled [Focused Shot]. He didn’t bother firing at his opponent’s unprotected head. Captain Ironheart would likely accelerate his movements and catch the projectile on his shield. So, Flint aimed low and fired. The bolt bit into an unprotected thigh, inciting a violent scream.

Flint would’ve preferred to take him prisoner, but Captain Ironheart foolishly signed his death sentence by ripping the bolt out of his leg. Blood seeped through his trousers and onto the floor straight away. He realized his mistake too late and looked at Flint with widened, panic-filled eyes. The man dropped his sword and desperately clutched the wound. There were several threats still left within the wall, so Flint charged into his opponent and kneed Ironheart in the face before kicking his sword away. Then he moved on, leaving the spoiled lordling to bleed to death.

31

Flint took a moment to take in his surroundings as he reloaded the crossbow. Adam stood by the gate mechanism with a dead Iron Army soldier lying at his feet. Two armed Vikings remained facing him. Before opening the gates, Adam had hidden a giant war hammer and shield behind the gate mechanism. Flint was glad Adam had the time to retrieve them after triggering the trap. Even though Adam was taller than Flint and probably all of Lea’s Slumber, the Vikings towered over him.

Fortunately, Adam faced a pair with one-handed swords and shields. They didn’t have a range advantage due to their shorter weapons and appeared to prefer staying behind their shields over all-out attacks. Flint had worried they’d end up facing the axe bearers. Bjorn Johansson, Bjorn the snow dog’s namesake, had told him about the Viking berserkers. They carried axes and would drive themselves into a frenzied bloodlust. Most opponents fled on seeing them or tried keeping them at range. Pain only fueled their violence.

Even though Adam didn’t have much combat training, he knew the hammer’s ins and outs. One of the Vikings’ swords was now warped, while the other’s shield had lost a monstrous chunk. Unlike Flint, Adam’s strength enhancement ability from [Smithing] didn’t consider hammers weapons. It was likely [Hammer Play] further boosted his physical prowess, despite its placement in the [Control Node]. As a result, he made up for his lack of experience with brute strength and weapon control.

Instead of helping Adam, Flint focused on Maya. The cart drivers were all former Iron Army soldiers. After watching them train for twelve years, Flint knew they functioned well as a unit but struggled individually. Their training involved overwhelming war beasts, trolls, and puck foot soldiers with numbers and tactics. Besides disliking combat, it was one of the reasons Flint never showed interest in joining the infantry. Soldiers needed to understand and trust each other to function, and his last name came with too much animosity.

After loading both crossbow barrels, Flint sprang into action. Colonel Smith was still on the floor; he appeared blinded and therefore went ignored. Five soldiers had surrounded Maya, and their extended swords kept her from closing in on them. Flint was glad she hadn’t tried leaping over any of them either. An upward stab or swing could gravely damage her underbelly despite [Aura of Entangling Fur].

As Flint closed in on the soldiers, he looked for an opening to disrupt their formation. Unlike Captain Ironheart, they wore hooded chainmail shirts that hung down to their knees. The belts and bands tightened the loose armor around the waist and arms respectively to keep them from moving around too much. Metal greaves protected their calves too. Flint was sure his bolts would hurt them but not inflict a mortal injury.

He aimed the crossbow at the soldier in the center of the formation. The man acted as the formation’s linchpin, guiding the rest. Disabling him would hopefully turn the tide of battle. Flint fell into a crouch, looking past the swaying chainmail’s edge. He inhaled and focused on [Marking Shot]. A crimson glow enveloped his hands and flowed through the crossbow before swirling around the bolt’s tip. For good measure, Flint called on [Focused Shot] too.

Time slowed, and Flint found the perfect window. The bolt flew true, planting itself in the soft skin at the back of the knee. The soldier screamed, staggering forwards and falling to his knees. The red light pulsed from the bolt, enveloping his body. Maya leapt at the opening and barreled into the man, closing her mouth around his armored head. The sound of warping metal and cracking bones made Flint’s stomach turn. He didn’t waste any time and fired the second bolt at another soldier before running for cover. It didn’t matter whether the projectile hit or not. He and Maya had broken the formation and once again had a chance at victory.

Flint peeked out of cover while reloading his weapon. [Marking Shot]’s red light clung to her snout and paws, rising like red smoke. When she weaved around the disoriented soldiers and swiped at one of their arms, Flint heard the bone break.

Attacking a marked shot boosts strength.

During the last fight, Flint was too busy to confirm the ability’s exact parameters. Watching Maya in action from cover helped calm his concerns. Confident that Maya could take care of herself now, Flint scanned the ongoing battle. She alone had taken down three soldiers, and the remaining four appeared too shaken up to pose a threat. Captain Ironheart had dragged himself to a corner and was weakly trying to fasten his belt around his thigh.

Meanwhile, Adam hadn’t made any progress against his opponents. He swung his weapon at them, red in the face. One Viking caught the attack on her shield, while the other thrust his sword at Adam, slicing his shoulder. They appeared unfazed, and Flint was sure they’d get the advantage soon. After all, they had experience and training on their side. He’d seen tactics like theirs before. The pair wanted to tire Adam out before going for the kill.

Flint didn’t give them the opportunity. He waited until the man thrust his sword before channeling [Focus Shot] again. Not long ago, repeated uses of the abilities would’ve tired him out. Now, it barely fazed him. Flint was sure it wasn’t just the adrenaline as he took the shot and struck an unprotected bicep. It wasn’t a fatal blow but made the Viking falter. He struggled to pull back from the feint in time, and Adam’s shield swing caught the sword arm.

Before Flint could release his second crossbow bolt, a sharp sting bit into his side. He staggered away from it on reflex, left hand jumping to the wound. Flint raised his crossbow one-handed, trying to get off a defensive shot, but a follow-up attack caught the iron stirrup and ripped the weapon from his hands. If not for the strap slung across his shoulders, he would’ve lost the crossbow.

It was Colonel Smith. The skin of his face had mostly peeled off, and patches of flesh underneath had turned black. One of his eyes was gone while the other had turned a violent red. He held his right hand close to his chest, and its state wasn’t much better than his face. Flint thanked his stars. The man was a decorated soldier. If not for his lack of depth perception, he’d be dead. Given his awkward swing, Flint guessed Colonel Smith used his right as his sword hand. Lady Luck was indeed on his side.

“You Wyldblood bastard!” Colonel Smith roared, charging at Flint. Despite his injured state, the man managed to activate an ability and moved at inhuman speeds. His sword glowed gold, much like his one good eye. Flint jumped to the side, avoiding the blade but not the attack. An invisible force caught him midair and threw him backward. He landed painfully on the crossbow and heard something break. With the air knocked out of his lungs, Flint couldn’t tell whether it was the weapon or his bones. “I’m going to gut you and hang your head for the village to see.”

Colonel Smith staggered toward him, breathing heavily. His left arm trembled, struggling to hold onto the sword. The abilities had drained the injured man considerably. Yet Flint knew he didn’t have a chance against him in a fair fight. As he scrambled to get the crossbow out from under him, Flint felt his pocket’s contents shift. A desperate idea blossomed in his head, and he got moving.

“Then I’m going to do the same to your mutts and your friend—”

“Did you forget your training, Colonel?” Flint asked. He sat up and kicked at the ground, trying to put some distance between them. “The first thing the drill sergeants taught us at basic training was to neutralize the threat before talking.”

“You’re no threat.” Colonel Smith spat bloody phlegm before running at him.

Flint waited until the man exited the gate’s shadows and stepped into the sunlight before pressing his left hand to the stone floor. He channeled [Shape], and the ground shifted. The flagstone in front of Colonel’s right foot shifted, moving up by an inch. Colonel Smith had already committed to his advance, and the protrusion was in his blind spot. Flint held his breath as the man stumbled. Then he whipped the second vial of freezing concoction out of his pocket. [Keen Eye] and [Steady Hand] helped Flint steady his aim. [Trigger Finger] tried to deter his throwing technique, but the glass container didn’t have far to go. It struck Colonel Smith, shattered, and covered him with the liquid once again. He screamed in rage and pain, dropping his weapon and scratching at his face.

“You filthy bastard!” Colonel Smith’s cries drowned out all other sounds within the fort. Flint considered using the crossbow to put him out of his misery, but the lever necessary for drawing the string had snapped off at its base. So, for the first time in several years, Flint picked up a drawn sword. He walked up to the squirming older man and stabbed him through the chest. Much to his surprise, the colonel’s writhing didn’t cease.

A red glow surrounded his arms and chest. Colonel Smith grabbed Flint and, despite his state, had little trouble dragging him down. Swiping and pushing did nothing. Flint had no weapons left. They didn’t have enough space for him to retrieve the sword from the colonel’s chest. Then his hands came upon a weapon he had all but forgotten. While buying the crossbow, he had purchased a foot-long black club too. It sat sheathed at Flint’s waist, but during the fight, the weapon had rotated to hang behind him. He pulled it out and bashed the colonel’s skull as hard as the limited movement allowed. The first blow did little, and he had to strike multiple times until the man’s head had a giant dent in it.

Flint felt cold and hollow inside. He’d seen humans die before, but it was the first time he’d been responsible for their deaths. There was no telling how many had fallen to the gate trap. He had helped Maya kill one, and now the colonel’s blood was literally on his hands. He glanced at where Captain Ironheart sat. The man had failed to fasten the belt around his bleeding thigh. All color had left Captain Ironheart’s face, and his dead eyes stared blankly at the brightening sky above.

As adrenaline’s effects subsided, Flint could hear more than just the ongoing fights. The sound of crying women and children reached his ears. Looking at their terrified faces, Flint knew the deaths were just. The thought helped him stomach the horror that came with taking the lives of people he once knew.

Most of the soldiers had fallen, and only one Viking remained. When they realized the battlefield’s status, they dropped their weapons and raised their hands to the sky. “We surrender!” Their voices were barely audible over the crying and screaming.

Flint started toward the wagons, but he tripped on his own feet and fell to his knees. A sharp pain flared along his side, reminding him of the injury. The world spun and blurred around him moments later. Flint was sure he was going to pass out when a warm tongue licked his face. Bjorn nudged his way under Flint’s right arm and helped him up onto his feet.

“Thanks, boy,” he said, blinking away the haziness. Ed rushed to his aid and stabilized Flint. After [Soul Link] gave him a quick infusion of strength, Flint checked the remaining numbers. One Viking and two soldiers were left. They appeared terrified, holding their hands high above their heads. Maya and Adam had both stopped, looking between the possible prisoners of war and their leader. Flint’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the soldiers with disgust.

“Please!” One of the soldiers exclaimed, looking at Maya’s bared fangs and then past her at Flint. “Colonel Smith told us he’d kill us if we didn’t follow orders. I had no other choice. Have mercy.”

Flint thought about it for a moment. After twelve years with the Iron Army, he hated deserters. They left their brothers or sisters in arms to die out of selfishness and cowardice. These people were worse. He didn’t care whether they used death or orders as an excuse. They had violated too many laws and intended to bring him and his dogs harm. “Go on, Bjorn. Help them finish up.”

The snow dog made his usual yaps before breaking into a run and launching himself at the Viking woman. She screamed, and similar cries rang out from the two soldiers at Maya’s mercy. It was over. They had won.

32

“Can you help me to the top of the wall, Ed?” Flint asked.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, sir,” Ed said. “Maybe we should patch your wound first.”

“Right.” Flint wanted to check on the Vikings outside. He didn’t want any of them to get away and come back with reinforcements—although he doubted they would after the loss. However, it was best to eliminate slavers altogether. Twylip had provided him and Adam with pouches of rubbing spirits, antiseptic, clotting salve, and bandages. They were meant to provide first aid to the slaves, but he needed them more.

“Stay,” he said when Maya ascended the stairs. She tilted her head, glaring at him, and he could feel her challenge, but Flint stayed firm. “We don’t know how many of them are out there, Maya, and I can’t spare both you and Bjorn. Just wait.”

“Let me help you, sir—Flint.” Ed helped Flint take off his coat and shirt. A loud wince escaped Flint’s lips when the rubbing spirit touched the wound. It stung, and he struggled not to pull away, but Ed’s hands were firm, and he worked swiftly. “It’s not as bad as it looks. The blade got in between your ribs but didn’t bite deep.”

“Did you pick up a healing skill stone, Ed?” Flint asked, trying his best not to tap his foot or sound impatient.

“No, sir. I was in the same wagon as Lady Dyne—the healer lady. She had me help her with the wounded people Colonel Smith picked up.” Ed gently applied the salves and ointments before wrapping the wound. “She didn’t survive the last beast attack,” he said before Flint could ask.

“Walk with me.” Flint used Ed’s support to scale the stairs. He peeked over the walls, hoping to see eight dead bodies. Flint guessed the slab had killed at least three by the number of limbs sticking out from under the stone. Two were dragging a third downhill. One carried a great sword. The other had an oversized axe slung across his back. Meanwhile, the third appeared unconscious and unarmed. [Keen Eye] failed to find the remaining two. He couldn’t tell whether they were under the stone slab or had fled. Flint whistled. “Get them, Maya.”

Bjorn tried to follow, but Flint needed him to keep the children under control. He couldn’t afford to have them running around and getting lost in the ruins.

Maya’s hind legs pushed her off the walls with enough force to carry her twenty feet. She landed gracefully before racing downhill. Her claws clicked against the stone, and an almost trotting sound reached Flint’s ears as she ran. He hadn’t watched her long during the fight against the soldiers, but her speed and agility could likely match a plain’s cat without issue. Before long, Flint bet she’d beat shadow cats too.

Old habits had Flint reaching for the crossbow hanging from his waist. Then he recalled that the weapon had broken during the fight. It would do him no good now. Flint had no choice but to stand back and watch Maya fight.

It took the oversized sheepdog seconds to reach the three Vikings. She lunged through the swordsman first, twisting her head as she made contact and clamping her jaw shut. Maya landed on the man, and he didn’t get back up. Despite the distance, crunches and cracks reached the walls. Flint worried for a moment that the last still Viking would turn on her.

Much to his relief, the axeman didn’t. Instead, the tall, red-headed man shrieked before sprinting downhill. Maya had her orders. Flint trusted her to see the job done. She ran the Viking down. The axe head hung low, swinging back and forth, blocking the Viking’s bottom and upper thighs. Maya didn’t have the brains to go for the leg. Instead, she grabbed an arm in her jaws, skidded to a stop, and pulled. The man fell and put up more of a fight than his comrade.

Thanks to [Keen Eye], Flint glimpsed a flash of red light. The man swung at Maya, and the agile canine danced out of the way. After bouncing around the Viking for a couple of moments, she feinted, forcing the man to overcommit to a grab. Then at the last moment, Maya hopped to the side and clamped her jaws down on her opponent’s head. Desperate glowing hands struggled to peel her off but failed. After he stilled, Maya turned her attention to the downed Viking. She killed him too.

Flint called her back before the sheepdog could go hunting for the rest. He didn’t know enough about their battle prowess and refused to risk her safety. Once again, Maya paused on hearing his order. He could feel the temptation to defy his instructions bubbling up inside her. The sheepdog believed that she knew better.

“Come back now!” He barked. Maya tilted her head to the side for a moment, watching his face. Then she stalked back to the gate slowly, and Adam let her in. “Go fetch Twylip and Winona, Maya. We’ll take care of matters here.”

When she glared at him, Flint let his annoyance flare through the empathic link. Both dogs whined, feeling his pent-up rage. Maya lowered her head to the ground before rolling onto her belly. Flint recognized it as a sign of submission. It annoyed him to resort to such methods. He preferred a familial relationship, not a master-pet one. At the same time, Flint had learned enough about dogs to understand pack mentality. Everything would fall apart if he didn’t establish himself as the sole leader.

Once Maya left, he helped unload the remaining wagons. “What happened, Ed?” He asked.

“It was Colonel Smith,” Ed answered. “He was supposed to lead Captain Ironheart, a company of elite builders, materials, and equipment to the Evergreen Fort.”

“The one in the Northern Verdant Plains?”

“That’s the one.” Ed nodded. “Instead, he led us into a Viking camp near the border. It wasn’t far west of the Gator Teeth mountain’s end. We tried fighting back, but they cut down all the soldiers and axemen.”

“Bastards.” Flint exhaled loudly through clenched teeth. If he hadn’t left the army, he would’ve ended up in the same caravan. It was likely Colonel Smith, and the Vikings wanted to sell the young and skilled workers to a party on a distant disk. “What are you doing all the way down here if they took you to the Northern border?”

“Beasts,” Ed answered. “The fight attracted big green cats, and the Vikings tried repelling them, but it cost them all of their flaming axemen. We lost them for a while, and they used the opportunity to pick up more—” He glanced at the fae climbing out of the carts. “—merchandise, but the cats found us again. We lost two wagons, and Lady Dyne was on one of them. Colonel Smith and Captain Ironheart were furious since the other contained most of the gold and silver they looted along the way.”

Ed sighed. His eyes filled up with tears as he diverted them to the floor. “They wanted to take us into the wastes and send us across a sea bridge. I think they intended to sell us as livestock, Flint. They didn’t care whether we’re human or fae.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ed,” Flint said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I really am. No one deserves to end up a slave. I’m glad to have you here, though. As long as you’re willing to work, you have a place here.”

“I’d love that, Mr. Flint!” Ed’s face lit up with a smile. “After what Colonel Smith did, I don’t think I can trust the Iron Army anymore. He wasn’t planning on deserting either! I heard Captain Ironheart and him talking. He intended to keep selling stolen supplies to the Vikings and directing them to poorly protected settlements along the outskirts.”

“They weren’t deserters?”

“Only Captain Ironheart, Mr. Flint,” Ed answered. “Lord Ironheart named one of his younger sons the next heir and wanted the captain to fill an escort position. Colonel Smith offered him the opportunity to work as a liaison between him and the Vikings, and the lordling jumped on the opportunity.”

“And then they wanted to screw me over and turn this into a staging ground for the slavers?”

Ed shook his head. “Colonel Smith had told them about Lea’s Slumber as a settlement worth looting. Then when we got pursued along the Gator Teeth mountains, they decided to come here. The bastards wanted to steal whatever you got from your life quest, raid the village, and then use a tunnel somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you for sharing, Ed.” Flint spotted Twylip and Winona far uphill. They were almost at the camp. “Gather everyone. We’ll head to the Heartstone up ahead.”

Getting the newly freed slaves to follow him was harder than expected. The humans fell in line with little protest, but the final two wagons’ occupants weren’t as willing. Flint didn’t blame them. After all, humans had ripped them from their homes, probably killed their loved ones, and then marked them with slave brands. For all they knew, a new evil had replaced the old ones. In the end, when they realized nobody was forcing them to join the others, they came willingly.

Even though Flint’s side still burned, and he felt welts forming on his body, he still had plenty of energy to spare. Once at the Heartstone, he picked an almost collapsed arch and channeled [Totem of Healing]. The humans gasped at the sudden light show, but the fae didn’t react. He hoped they’d feel better before long and summoned Bjorn closer for a boost.

The snow dog didn’t seem to mind. Bjorn had made new friends among the children and a trio of wolfhounds. Now, the hounds stuck close to Bjorn. Even though bloodhounds were considered big dogs, he dwarfed them now.

“You showed Colonel Smith the usefulness of dogs, Mr. Flint,” Ed said. “We didn’t know why he brought along five for a building mission but realized later that they were meant to guard the fae prisoners. Then once we got here, he recalled your affinity for them and wanted to reduce possible risks.” The young man paused, diverting his eyes to the ground. “He had us kill the poor things and put them in a stew.”

“It’s alright, Ed.” Flint’s fist clenched as he tried to comfort Ed. He hoped the Colonel had suffered greatly during his final moments. The man deserved worse than death. “He didn’t have the dogs eat any of the meat, did he?”

Ed shook his head.

“Good. Otherwise, I’d have to put them down. Cannibalism leads to insanity, apparently.”

[Soul Link] alleviated most of the discomfort. Flint made sure not to drain Bjorn too much, though. He no longer had a weapon, and Adam appeared exhausted. If things took a turn for the worst, Bjorn was now their only defense.

Twylip and Winona arrived not long after, carrying baskets of fruit. Flint hadn’t planned it with them but was glad for it. Everyone who had missed out on the porridge rushed to grab an apple—fae included. They brightened up, digging into the food. The children gravitated toward Maya as she followed the women to the Heartstone square. Unlike Bjorn, she avoided them and came straight to Flint’s side. He was glad for it. Maya loved children, and her focus on him highlighted her understanding of her mistake earlier. As his second, she’d set a bad example for the new dogs by challenging him.

Flint waited until everyone had finished eating and was somewhat relaxed before finding an elevated spot and addressing the crowd. “In case any of you were confused or unsure, we aren’t a part of the Iron Army. I worked as a builder for them not long ago but have now taken on the responsibility of repairing these grounds and the fort above us.” A wave of whispers passed through the square. Once they had died down, Flint continued. “You’re free now. Slavery is outlawed in the Iron Lands, and I couldn’t bear to see my former commanding officers resorting to something so vile.”

“Where can we go?” A voice in the crowd asked.

“That’s up to you,” Flint answered. “As far as I know, there are no towns or villages around these parts, but if you take the South-Western Road through the Verdant Plains, you’ll find farmland and will eventually reach Hammercrest. It’s a crafting town and has a new Iron Army stronghold near it.”

“Through the plains?” Someone whispered within the human huddle. Several nervous pairs of eyes glanced at one another.

“Alternatively, you can stay here.” Flint raised his voice, not just focusing on the human group but the fae in the back too. “However, if you do, you’ll need to swear a blood oath through the Heartstone, to me and this land, that you’ll work to serve its interests and never betray it. Otherwise, I’ll provide you with a couple of carts and horses to ride out of here. It shouldn’t take you more than a fortnight to get there.”

“He’s a classer!” The whispers were louder and more animated now. Flint was glad they knew about the privilege. It would help him keep the peace without too many people fighting him or looking to usurp power.

“What about us?” A young puck asked. The brand on his chest looked particularly fresh, and the shaved skin around it was still inflamed from the tattoo needle. “We’ll be killed on sight if an Iron soldier so much as sees us near a human settlement.”

“I do not know the way to your homelands. I’ve never been there. However, the offer is the same.” A couple of protests sounded among the humans, but Flint ignored them. “You’ll need to swear a blood oath too. Your purpose will become helping me restore this fort and its grounds, helping it and the people within it flourish. It doesn’t matter whether you’re human or fae. I expect you to get along and work together. If the Wyld Army or Iron Army show up at our doorstep, you’ll need to help me defend the walls against both, regardless of where your fealties used to lie.”

Silence fell upon the square. Not a soul spoke for the longest time. Humans and fae glanced at each other, and Flint could feel the latter’s uncertainty. So he continued, hoping to win them over.

“I do not have the means to pay you with much more than food and shelter. However, anything you produce in surplus that the community doesn’t need, you can barter and perhaps eventually sell to the village behind the fort. I will invest whatever resources my life quest gives me to ensure everyone here has better, safer lives. That’s the best I can offer.”

Twylip stepped forward and addressed the crowd. “Flint Woodson hasn’t known me for long. However, I provided services he and these grounds desperately needed. So, he had me swear a similar oath and gave me a second-tier skill stone to aid this land better. As long as I remain faithful to him and the Sleeping Fort, it is mine. The products I created with his gift are mine to sell too, and I’m using a portion of my earnings to procure materials for Flint. It’s what we do here. Everyone contributes what’s necessary and a bit more if they want. That’s the price of shelter and protection.”

Flint was relieved when Twylip weaved through the crowd and approached the young puck who had spoken up. “I am an alchemist and will personally look into removing these brands from your skin,” she said. “Flint risked his life against a superior force to free you. He doesn’t care whether you’re human or fae. All he wants is peace and a safe place to live away from the war. If enemies show up at his gates, Flint will probably risk his life again to get rid of them while keeping civilians like me out of the way. I’m willing to dedicate my life to help such a man pursue such a cause.”

“I don’t expect everyone to follow the same path as Twylip,” Flint told the crowd. “However, I need to ensure that you won’t betray me when a better option comes along. It pains me to do so, but people who chose to leave will need to swear a minor oath to me too if they want access to the cart and horse. What you’ve just learned and seen here must stay a secret. The Sleeping Fort is a haven and not a part of the war. I intend to keep it that way.” He paused, reaching out to Maya for emotional support. The dozens of unfamiliar eyes on Flint made him uncomfortable. She responded to him through the empathic link while gently licking his hand. “Any takers?”

It came as no surprise when Ed stepped up. Flint smiled at him, pressed his hand to the Heartstone, and recited the proposed oath. Ed echoed it, completing the process. The young puck stepped up next, followed by all the orphaned children.

33

Flint only needed to spare one cart and horse for the humans. The group consisted mostly of the elderly and a couple of young mothers. Most of them expressed their distaste for fae and refused to reside next to them. The rest worried Flint didn’t have the means to protect the fort. Fortunately, none of them put up a fight when it came to the blood oath. After all, he had saved their life while risking his own. Instead, they thanked him for what he’d done, the transport, and enough supplies to last them ten days.

The slavers and deserters carried plenty of extra weapons in their cart, and Flint let the group have their pick. He gave them a part of the gold he found too. There was a significant amount, and most of it belonged to the people Vikings had killed during their raids.

“You’ll come upon farmland after a week of riding,” Flint told them. “They’re patrolled and protected by the Iron Army since the forces rely on the lands for their food. I’m sure you can purchase supplies if anything runs low.”

Twylip added emergency medical supplies to their load. The older folk appeared fragile, and the young mothers and their babies had gone weeks without proper nourishment. She advised them to brew teas using the roots and herbs whenever they made camp. It would provide them with the vitamins and minerals they’d been missing.

Even though Flint offered to let them stay the day and recover, the group set out at noon. After closing the gates behind them, Flint approached the Heartstone once more, pressed his hands to it, and prayed they’d make it to safety. There was little more he could do to help them. From what he understood, the South-Western Road cutting through the Verdant Plains was mostly safe. They just needed to remain wary for the first week until they left the tall grass.

Things weren’t as simple with the fae. There were close to three dozen of them. A third of the group had joined after the first puck, Keen, while the remaining group was still undecided. They trickled to the Heartstone little by little as they made up their minds.

It wasn’t long after lunchtime when a trio approached him: an old male puck wearing glasses, a young female brownie with hair as white as Winona’s skin, and a woman from a fae race Flint didn’t recognize. She had sun-kissed skin, orange hair, and long pointed ears.

“Do you really intend for all of the children to work?” The puck asked. “Human and fae?”

Flint nodded. “Everyone will need to contribute to this land if we’re to survive and stay out of the war. The little ones can help pull weeds in the gardens, plant seeds, and water the plants. It won’t be hard finding jobs for the older ones either. There’s a lot to do around here.”

“But what about their education?” The sun-kissed fae woman asked. “Just because they’ve been dealt bad cards at the start of their lives doesn’t mean they should spend their days in ignorance. If you’re serious about growing, let them learn how and why things grow.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Flint said, glancing at the children running around and playing with the dogs. Bjorn displayed a surprising gentleness with them. The bloodhounds appeared keen to join in on the fun, but the little ones shied away from them. It didn’t come as a surprise since they were the slavers’ dogs after all. He wanted to tell them that there were no bad dogs, just bad masters, but it wasn’t the time for that. “Life wasn’t pleasant to me, and I didn’t have time to learn much besides the common tongue and basic arithmetic. The streets and then the Iron Army taught me everything I know. It shouldn’t be the same for these children. I’d prefer it if they know what they want from life by the time their nodes unlock.”

Flint glanced at his friends sitting behind him. They were all listening to his words intently. Twylip shot him a soft smile while Winona appeared mildly surprised. He stood up and approached the Heartstone. The three fae followed.

“The children will still be expected to work after they’ve finished their lessons for the day,” Flint declared.

“I’m what your people call a plains dryad,” the sun-kissed woman said. “I dedicated my life to learning about the disk’s plant life, the land, and how to grow for sustenance without damaging the local ecology. My teachings will involve such knowledge.”

“Perhaps I can add to that with an understanding of diseases and medicine,” Twylip said, joining them. “This is a great endeavor, in my opinion. There is plenty of room in the fort to set up a school.”

Lefa, the plains dryad, swore her oath before wandering off with Twylip, discussing the gardens above. The brownie stepped up next.

“The name’s Seven,” the brownie said. She held up her four-fingered hands—her left had half the middle finger missing. “I was training to become a Wyldmaster but had little affinity for mind magic. I do know how to befriend animals, though, and have guided the essence allocation of many, and know beasts better than any one of my master—former master’s apprentices.”

“You don’t have to give me your credentials.” Flint laughed. “As long as you swear you won’t do anything to harm this land or its residents, you’re free to do whatever will help us. I’d love for the children to understand the disk’s fauna.”

They shook hands, and Seven swore her oath too. Unlike Lefa, she didn’t run off immediately but stuck close to the aged puck. He looked Flint up and down through a pair of half-moon glasses, leaning heavily on his cane. Despite the white and gray hair, there was no frailty about the aged puck, and his sharp eyes appeared to look through Flint’s very being.

“Which side of your family was fae?” He asked without introducing himself.

“I don’t know,” Flint answered.

“What kind were they?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know that either. When the war started, a caravan moving to the Wyld’s lands and dropped me off at an orphanage. Apparently, I wasn’t fae enough to survive there.”

“Given how you look, they were probably right. I see how you interact with the dogs. Is it safe to assume you’re an empath?” Flint nodded. “That explains a lot. Empaths are rare. Their emotions waiver to the extremes depending on their current environment and company, and this often results in them getting killed. You’ll need our counsel if you intend to stay strong and out of this war.” He glanced at Seven and then looked over the crowd behind him.

“I’m Alais. Unlike Seven and Lefa, I don’t have any useful skills that can directly help your fort. I don’t particularly like humans or trust them, but I feel the same about most fae, including pucks. So, it’s probably not a race thing either. If you want a school for the children though, you need me. I used to be a scholar and the librarian of the White Stone Library. It’s one of the two largest bastions of fae knowledge on the disk. The Vikings burned it to the ground when they raided us. My books and scrolls might be gone, but they’re all in here.” Alais tapped the side of his head. “I’ll want an office and supplies to write, but you need me in the long run.”

“I can’t promise all of that straight away, but I’ll certainly try my hardest. Having an educated man—puck—will help us a whole lot going forward.”

Alias rejected the handshake but swore his oath. Then he and Seven walked away together. Winona still appeared shell-shocked. Flint was about to sit back down and help himself to some fruit when she jumped onto her feet and marched to the Heartstone. She thrust her wrists out, jangling her chains. For a moment, Flint thought she would make a speech and discourage the remaining fae from swearing an oath.

“You might be ready to lead people, Flint, but you don’t understand their plight yet,” she said. “We have our own internal and external issues. I see you’re serious about this, though.” Winona glanced at the fae. All eyes were on her. “Let me help you.”

“What changed your mind?” Flint asked. He wasn’t surprised. He expected her will to waiver after the fae started swearing their loyalty to the Sleeping Fort.

“I never thought you’d let the fae in, let alone let three of them take over the education of human and fae alike.” Winona sighed. “You’re not all talk, and I respect that.” She thrust the manacles to him, jangling them. “I can’t swear an oath with these around my wrists. Remove them, and I’ll serve these lands. I’ll fight whatever force appears outside your walls. If anyone, human or fae, displays an ounce of magical potential, I’ll teach them too. You’ll need power and individuals with mastery of essence for this to work, and I’m your seedling.”

Flint heard whispers containing the term “high fae,” but he ignored them. Many commented on the contrast of her dark hair and pale skin. Some highlighted Winona’s sharp nose and delicate ears as well. None of that mattered. Winona was an ally he desperately needed, so he removed the manacles.

“I swear to serve the Sleeping Fort and help you on your life quest,” Winona said. “As long as you treat the fae residents of this land the same as the humans, protect them and give them equal opportunities, I’ll not move against you. My powers and knowledge will go to our defense and enriching the residents.”

“I accept your blood oath,” Flint replied, touching the Heartstone. The stone pillar’s runes flared, and a smile spread across Winona’s lips.

“Can you remove my ankle bands as well and lend me Maya until the morning?”

“What are you planning?”

“I’d like to hunt down the slavers who got away. It’s in everyone’s interests if they don’t survive.”

Flint nodded and set her free. He summoned Maya closer, scratched her behind the ears, and channeled [Guide Growth]. As expected, a large urn of sand awaited him. However, the almost black clouds hanging over the green plains surprised him. During his last couple of visits, the skies were clear and beautiful. Now, he heard distant rumbles.

Flint once again divided the sand between [Power] and [Mind], taking the latter sector to the groove. Lights flared along with the curving depression in the [Mind] and [Control]. They connected, emitting an aquamarine light. The glow brightened until it was almost blinding before energy pulsed from the compass through the green fields.

A flurry of movement drew Flint’s attention to the fields. He saw Maya in the distance, but she was slightly bigger and lighter than her current self. Blue wisps floated around her, crackling with power. When she ran—moving twice as fast as her new normal—they kept up with her buzzing. Flint knew instinctively that he didn’t want them touching him. A shadow rose out of the grass, and Maya zipped past it. One of the wisps struck the shape, and it writhed for a moment before dissolving into the smoke.

Flint spotted another version of Maya in the distance. Her dimensions hadn’t changed, but her fur had darkened and gained a blue tint. Her snout and feet had a slight gold tint to them, and her eyes carried a similar but richer shade. Yellow and blue energy crackled around her paws, then she flickered and appeared much closer. The grass had flattened and darkened several feet behind her landing spot and looked almost burned. Meanwhile, her dark fur stood on end, sticking up diagonally, and lightning appeared to arc between them.

Then shadows bubbled around her, and she leapt back, moving no faster than the current Maya. After putting some distance between them, Maya crouched, bending her front legs in a play position, yellow energy crackling around her snout. When she barked, Flint jumped out of his skin, thinking it was thunder. Instead, the air rippled in front of Maya, and the resulting shockwave knocked the shadows back, dissolving them. Then his beloved sheepdog stood panting heavily. Maya took off after the wisp-surrounded version of her toward the hill where Flint stood.

It took a while for Flint to realize there was a third. He’d been so focused on the other two that he missed several shadow figures in the field disappearing. Then he spotted a blur moving around the hill. Even though it was close, Flint heard no footsteps. Then the figure slowed, and he saw Maya. She looked up at him, smiling and wagging her tail. Her dominantly white fur was now black and not as thick. Maya’s body appeared slimmer and more elongated.

Words formed in front of Flint’s eyes.

Touched by Lightning:

By committing herself to [Mind], Maya will gain a better understanding and control over essence. She’ll learn to harness it and channel arcane energies as lightning, eviscerating all that dare to oppose her or the pack.

It’ll start with controllable lightning wisps. The wisps won’t just harm whoever they touch but can also empower Maya’s body should she want it. With time and essence cultivation, the wisps will grow and gain new abilities.

Eye of the Storm: Instead of committing herself to one sector, Maya will split her attention between [Mind] and [Control]. She won’t just gain a better understanding and control of essence, but her speed and agility will increase significantly too. Together, the two sectors will work together to sharpen her senses and let her investigate all aspects of the disk.

Maya’s barks will carry the power of thunder, and she’ll learn how to harness the essence of lightning into herself. The latter will let her flicker away from danger and temporarily empower her claws and fangs with electricity.

Speedster: Maya will continue down the path of turning her body into a weapon. [Control] won’t just increase her speed and agility but will also hone her reflexes and sharpen all physical senses. None can harm Maya if they can’t catch her. Hit-and-run tactics will be her focus.

Flint didn’t think long about his decision. Despite Maya’s occasional challenges, he wanted to have her get smarter. After all, she was his number two. He liked the idea of her dealing with foes at range and then zipping away when things got hairy. Eye of the Storm gave her a perfect balance, and he opted for the route.

When Flint ended [Guide Growth] and pulled away from Maya, he found himself looking at a completely different dog. Her basic structure and size had barely changed, but her coloration and eyes were completely different. He saw clarity and understanding in them unlike anything before.

“Listen to Winona, and don’t get into trouble, alright?”

Maya licked his face, and he got an explicit confirmation through the empathic link. As she left, Flint found several widened sets of eyes watching him. The brownies appeared especially alarmed.

34

After Winona’s declaration and seeing Maya transform, the rest of the fae lined up in front of the Heartstone. There were more brownies, plains dryads, and a couple more kinds he didn’t recognize. One of them was unnaturally skinny and had blue-tinted skin, and another might as well have been human. Flint didn’t know one from another, and he didn’t think it was the time to ask. Besides, Flint didn’t like it when people asked which side of his family was fae or what kind. He expected it to be the same for them.

Even though Flint wanted to use [Guide Growth] on Bjorn straight away, he focused on the queue first. He didn’t want to lose whatever goodwill Winona and Maya had won him. It took an hour to meet the rest of them and get through their oaths. Flint was exhausted by the end of it and was sure he wouldn’t remember most of the names by the end of the day, but it felt good to get all the fae to join.

Many of them made it clear that they neither trusted humans nor him—despite his mixed heritage. However, they were desperate to stay away from the war and would give him a chance as long as they had a spokesperson in whatever governmental body he put together. Flint already knew Twylip and Winona would have seats in whatever council he assembled. Alais looked like a good candidate too, but after his experience with Percy, Flint didn’t want to get overeager. He planned on waiting until he knew the puck better.

No matter what governing body he put together, Flint believed every party needed a representative. He doubted a human would be happy with a Woodson speaking for them but hoped Twylip would serve the role well.

Flint wasn’t sure, but he got the vibe that the fae weren’t as unified as they appeared. He spotted them sitting in different groups. The plains dryads, high fae, and other human-looking fae sat together. Meanwhile, the brownies and pucks huddled far from everyone else at the square’s far end. As a result, Winona alone wasn’t enough to represent all of them.

Just as Flint summoned Bjorn closer, Ed returned, riding a cart. Flint was surprised he managed to fit the vehicle through the narrow spaces between the collapsed building. Many of the young boys and girls rode in the back, waving around bowls of cold porridge, skill stones, and everything they had stripped off the dead.

The humans still milling around the square rushed to investigate. “Back!” Ed exclaimed. “Let Mr. Flint sort through it first.” He whipped around the spear sitting on his lap when they didn’t listen, and it did the job. “Remember your blood oaths. These are his first. He decides what happens with them!”

“Easy there, Ed!” Flint called, rushing over. He got between the spear and the gathering crowd.

“We don’t want the stones going to the fae!” A very pregnant woman yelled.

“The fae don’t use skill stones, ma’am,” Flint said, taking the spear out of Ed’s hand. “Everything here belongs to this settlement, and you’re a part of it. That means you have a stake here too. However, we can’t have disorder.”

“What do you suggest then?” A younger man asked.

“Ed here is going to commune with the Heartstone and catalogue every stone here.” Flint looked over the crowd. “Do any of you know how to write?”

A couple of mumbled yesses filtered through the crowd while several children raised their hands. Flint picked one of the girls, and she introduced herself as Agatha. “Lovely Agatha is going to go around, taking names, professions, and current skill stones.”

Flint found a giant ledger at the back of the cart. It detailed several pages of sales and an inventory of slaves with their possible values. Flint ripped out all the filled pages and threw them in the fire before handing the leatherbound notebook to Agatha. He found a foot-long writing stick, and the girl’s eyes widened when she got her hands on it.

“Try to keep your writing neat and clear, alright?” Agatha nodded, clutching the two to her chest like they were her prize. Flint doubted she’d ever want to give it back. He chuckled, returning his attention to the crowd. “Once we know where everyone’s strengths lie, we can discuss how to divide the stones. Please try not to lie. We’ll ask for a demonstration of your capabilities before handing anything over. The Heartstone might consider theft a violation of your oath too.”

“I get Agatha, but why should we trust Ed?” The pregnant woman asked. “He worked for the bastards who tricked us and got us branded.”

“In case you forgot, he’s branded too. Besides, I trust Ed. He’s my apprentice.” Ed stilled behind him, and Flint shot the young man a smile. “Or he would’ve been if his military contract didn’t get in the way. I’ve built next to him for close to a year, and he’s nursed my wounds—twice now. Even though he isn’t a healer, I understand he took it upon himself to help care for the sick and wounded too. Would you not want someone like Ed working for your interests?”

The crowd fell silent. One by one, they dispersed, moving away from the cart. Agatha got to work right away excitedly, and the other children looked at him expectantly, expecting jobs of their own. He sent the youngest to Alias and Seven and directed the rest of them uphill to find Twylip and Lefa. When the fae discovered they were heading to the gardens above, quite a few of them followed.

Once the square around the Heartstone thinned, Flint approached Ed once more. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first, Ed—”

“I’d be honored to be your apprentice, Mr. Flint,” Ed said, interrupting him. “I owe you my life.”

“No. I owed you mine. Now we’re even. Before you agree to an apprenticeship, tell me honestly. Did you join the Building Division because that’s what you wanted from your future or because you had no other option?” Ed’s eyes drifted to the floor. “I imagine you’ve gotten the skill stone to the second rank by now?”

Ed nodded.

“Then it’s not too late,” Flint said. “While you’re cataloguing the skill stones, think about what you want from your future. It’s okay to lose a year of progress if it means you can pursue the future you’d like. What did your parents do, Ed?”

Ed looked around the square at the few who remained before moving closer to Flint. “I lied when signing up, Mr. Flint,” he whispered. “I’m a Woodson too.”

Flint laughed. “That’s something you don’t need to hide anymore. Be yourself and think about what you want from your future. Alright?”

Ed nodded before starting on the assigned task. Now that nobody wanted his attention, Flint waved Bjorn over. The big, fluffy snow dog had flumped on his side once the children left. The battle’s stress and then dealing with the little ones had taken a toll on him. Bjorn padded over, weakly wagging his tail, tongue hanging out. He rolled onto his back on reaching Flint and waited expectantly. Flint laughed and gave him the belly scratches he wanted before channeling [Guide Growth].

The weather surrounding Bjorn’s Node Compass had changed much like Maya’s. A blizzard brewed in the distance, and the snow dunes appeared much more prominent than before. Flint didn’t waste any time and excitedly approached the pedestal in front of him. He estimated needing less than half the urn to bring Bjorn’s [Aura] to the groove. It left him to wonder whether to invest the remaining contents in [Power] or raise [Control].

Flint left the decision for later. First, he brought [Aura] up to the groove. The curving line through it and [Power] lit up, and then pale blue light spread from the pedestal. Flint had to cover his eyes as the snow reflected the light. It didn’t burn as he expected. It was a dreamscape within the Heartstone, after all.

Three versions of Bjorn emerged from within the snow. The first was the Bjorn he was learning to love but the size of a bear. The fur was so thick and fluffy, it looked like someone had draped several bear pelts around his giant body. Snow fell on Bjorn, but nothing clung to him. In fact, Flint noticed after several long moments of watching that they weren’t touching him at all. The snow drifted away from the giant dog and landed all around him.

Flint couldn’t fathom what it all meant, but he drew parallels to what he had seen with Maya. Her [Control] form couldn’t have made her blur and silent the way it did without some magical effect at play. Similarly, it was likely the form that focused on [Power] would gain some benefits from [Aura] too.

Flint loved the thought of turning Bjorn into an unstoppable force of fluff that defended his allies with brute strength and a protective aura. The form padded over for a pet, but Flint contained himself, hoping to give the other Bjorns a chance.

Bastion of Strength:

Bjorn will walk down the path of strength and vitality, turning himself into a guardian for those who need him. [Brawn] won’t just increase his speed and hardiness but thicken his fur, turning it into an armor. His innate aura that helps him survive extreme temperatures, rain, and snow will strengthen, too, making extreme weather conditions no challenge for him.

The following entity heading toward the Node Compass didn’t look like a dog at all. Instead, Flint found himself looking at a swirling sphere of ice and wind. Unlike the first figure, it didn’t have a comforting visage. The revolving forces resembled a violent maelstrom. Flint was sure it wouldn’t just chill nearby foes but shred them to pieces too.

Born in the North:

by committing himself to [Aura], Bjorn will embrace the frigid temperatures and stormy conditions he was born in. The chilling aura around him will calm foes while draining enemies of their warmth.

Before long, he’ll learn to harness the blizzard’s strength and whip wind, ice, and snow around himself, creating a weapon and a shield. Anyone who dares to intrude will find themselves ripped to pieces.

Even though the form emanated power, it wasn’t what he wanted for Bjorn. Flint wanted the snow dog to function as a beacon of protection and reassurance, not to instill fear. He once again found himself gravitating to the giant, fluffy version of Bjorn. While the chilling aura wouldn’t negatively affect allies, Flint worried about the blizzard element of the aura. Using it with other members of the pack nearby could become fatal for others.

Flint’s heart dropped when he saw the third form. It wasn’t as attractive but felt like the more intelligent choice straight away. This Bjorn’s size was halfway between the [Power] form and his current one. Bjorn’s fluff clumped together, forming ice-tipped spikes. The same could be said about the ear tips. The black fur covering Bjorn’s back had brightened, transitioning from charcoal to salt-and-pepper gray.

Almost invisible waves of blue light radiated from Bjorn and stopped twice his body length away. If not for [Keen Eye]’s enhancement, Flint doubted he would’ve seen it. The light formed a rough sphere around the snow dog.

Touched by the Cold:

Instead of committing himself to one sector, Bjorn will split his attention between [Power] and [Aura]. He won’t just gain bulk in muscle and fur, but a better control over the aura too.

Bjorn’s chill won’t affect allies but will bite foes. When needed, he can summon frigid winds around the outer limits of his aura, too, creating a shield of cold and gales. The frosty armor forming on his body and the thick fur will help reduce the force behind attacks, turning him into a powerful defender.

Brawn balanced with a circle of chilling felt like a powerful combination with the best of both worlds. Flint walked down the hill to the paler Bjorn, and the upgrade was complete, causing Flint to leave Bjorn’s Node Compass.

When Flint stopped petting Bjorn, he whined. The fur had a crispness to it and had lost some of its lovely smoothness. He laughed, looking at the suddenly bigger Bjorn. “You’re a big boy now, aren’t you?”

The whining stopped, and Bjorn’s giant tongue hung out the side of his mouth. Flint had to force himself away and report to the humming Heartstone calling to him.

35

Class quest completed!

Choose one of the following skill stones.

[Restoration]

[Imbue]

[Alteration]

Flint felt like a dog that needed a good shake. A shiver ran down his spine on seeing the Heartstone’s offerings. He was glad he hadn’t settled for [Enchanting]. All three options were much better than anything he had hoped.

[Restoration] lived in legends as a fourth-tier skill stone. It didn’t just aid healing and mending of wounds, but in the [Mind Node] was known to restore bodies and objects to previous states of existence. An older builder who had seen it in action claimed it almost resembled time reversal. However, it felt redundant due to [Totem of Healing].

Most skill stones that focused on healing required anatomical knowledge and weren’t the best of picks. Flint lacked medicinal training and knew little beyond basic first aid. [Restoration] felt like too daunting a prospect, and, despite its power, he discounted it. Besides, the fort had dedicated magic users and an alchemist to focus on that facet.

Flint knew more about the latter two options. [Imbue] was a third-tier stone, but he wasn’t as sure about [Alteration]’s ranking. The former enhanced a person’s strength, durability, and resilience in the [Power Node]. Meanwhile, in the [Control Node], it came with speed, agility, flexibility, and improved senses.

On the other hand, the other nodes focused on external imbuement. Unlike [Enchantment], it could enhance living creatures as well as objects. The effects were a lot more potent too. Flint liked the idea of imbuing his pack and bolts with additional power. He believed it would significantly increase his combat prowess.

Flint had heard of [Alteration] in the [Aura Node]. Several high-ranking artisans were known to use it to make working with resistant materials easier. In the [Power Node], Flint had heard about it letting the user harden their bodies and muscles, bolstering their strength and turning skin into armor. However, he had no idea how the stone would interact with the [Control Node]. It was the same for [Mind], but Flint’s imagination went wild. The idea of softening, hardening, and compressing materials excited him. While [Shape] could help him mold a substance into another shape, it did nothing as far as strengthening was concerned.

The skill stone didn’t have many direct combat applications, but Flint pictured softening stone to destabilize an enemy’s footing or turning his coat into armor during an emergency. As he thought about it more, [Alteration] pulled ahead of [Imbue]. Flint knew well that he wasn’t cut out for combat and didn’t want another skill stone like [Marksmanship] that focused solely on it.

When Flint picked [Alteration], the node compass hummed like the Heartstone, calling to him. He marched forward and locked his decision in. The [Mind Node] glowed for a moment before adopting a swirling pattern of earthy colors. One of the smaller circles next to the node lit up.

Flint reported to the pedestal straight away, eager to find out what the tome had in store for him.

[Alteration]

[Change Density]

A smile spread across Flint’s lips. The base ability wasn’t potent. However, he could see multiple uses for it. He especially liked the idea of compressing and hardening stone and wood for better construction. Flint still needed to test the combat applications, but he had high hopes for [Change Density]. He guessed the [Class Node] would provide a corresponding ability once [Alteration] reached the second rank. It appeared to be the pattern that came with class abilities. [Pack Leader] already had two abilities, but he believed that was due to the skill stone’s direct connection to [Kennel Master]. One of them had come from the life quest too.

Before moving on, he checked how the remaining nodes had progressed.

[Pack Leader] > [Pack Leader I]

[Aura of Entangling Fur I]

[Soul Link I] > [Soul Link II]

[Guide Growth]

Flint couldn’t help but feel disappointed that [Guide Growth] hadn’t gained a rank. At the same time, he wondered whether it had room for growth at all. It existed to help him choose how his pack used their essence. [Soul Link]’s increased rank pleased him, though. Flint hoped it would make the ability more efficient and not make Bjorn flump to the ground after a minor transference of power.

[Defensive Construction V]

[Builder’s Brawn V]

[Shape+ III]

[Reinforce IV]

[Architecture II]

[Bind III]

[Totem of Healing I] > [Totem of Healing II]

[Totem of Nurture] > [Totem of Nurture I]

[Marksmanship IV]

[Steady Hand IV]

[Keen Eye II]

[Focused Shot I] > [Focused Shot II]

[Trigger Finger] > [Trigger Finger I]

[Marking Shot] > [Marking Shot I]

The two nodes hadn’t undergone significant changes, but the totems gaining rank pleased Flint. Now that the fort’s population had grown, he needed totems with greater potency and range. Flint intended to place a [Totem of Healing] by the wall after finding people willing to work as the watch.

[Focused Shot] and [Marking Shot] had both proven their value during the fight. Once Flint repaired his crossbow, he planned on building a target range. Mastering their use would make his life much easier. He pulled away from the Heartstone, smiling and excited for the future.

Ed sat opposite him on the other side of the glowing pillar and had started several small piles of skill stones. He appeared to have borrowed a couple of pieces of paper and a chunk of the writing stick from Agatha. Flint had forgotten to ask Ed whether he could read or write and was surprised to find Ed’s handwriting much neater than his own. The page featured several columns, rows, and estimation of tiers too. Flint guessed the boy had spent some time learning about different skill stones so he could plan out his progression.

Flint caught a glimpse of a little blonde head running by and whistled. Agatha skidded to a stop and looked at him questioningly. When he beckoned her closer, the little girl smiled and ran over.

“Do you have another job for me, Mr. Flint?” She asked.

“How’s the list coming along?” Bjorn padded up to the pair, and when he sat next to Flint, their heads were level. When Agatha’s eyes widened, he thought she was going to run from the big fluff ball out of fear. Instead, she approached Bjorn confidently and ran her fingers through the thick hair on his underbelly. The iciness disappeared, and she gasped, feeling the softness. “Agatha?”

“Sorry, Mr. Flint.” Her face reddened, and as she tried retreating from Bjorn, the snow dog greeted her with a face lick. His giant tongue covered her entire face with slobber, leaving the little girl in a fit of giggles. “I just need to do the grandads and mums,” she said, wiping her face. “The rest are done.”

“Good! Let me see.” Instead of handing Flint the ledger, Agatha turned it around and held it up for him to read. Unlike Ed, she didn’t have the best handwriting, but it was still legible. Flint noted a couple of misspellings, but he wasn’t the best in that department either. After a moment of scanning, he found what he was looking for and marked the names for Agatha. “Get these people to meet me by the gate. If you find someone with [Carpentry] or [Fletching], tell them I’d like to meet them too.”

“Yes, Mr. Flint,” Agatha mumbled, looking over the marks Flint had made. “Are you looking for people for the village guard?”

“We aren’t exactly a village, Agatha, but yes,” Flint said, smiling. “How did you figure out what I was looking for?”

“You marked all the people with fighting skill stones. My daddy had those too, and he was in our village guard.” Her excitement and tone didn’t falter when she spoke about her father. “Would you like me to tell people you’re putting together a guard?”

“You’re a clever girl, aren’t you, Agatha?”

She grinned from ear to ear. “I’ll tell people you’re putting together a guard then.” Agatha nodded before running back in the direction she had come.

Ed had already removed all skill stones from the cart. It mostly housed armor and weapons. Flint dug through them looking for a crossbow but found several slings, bows, and large bundles of arrows lashed together. He had seen a couple of [Marksmanship] users on the list. There was the second-tier variant, [Archery], on the list too.

Flint mounted the cart and drove it downhill. The horse took a couple of moments to respond, but a prod using his empathic sense got the animal to fall in line. It was a much rougher connection than what he had with the dogs but stronger than what he felt from pucks. In fact, it felt like a keener version of his interaction with the mule.

However, Flint thought it likely that his empathic abilities had gotten more substantial too. His use of it had increased considerably since he left the Iron Army. Flint had tried communicating with a variety of animals while living on the streets and then as a builder. Cats didn’t respond to him at all. He could feel them mildly, but all attempts at communication failed miserably. Horses and mules, in general, were dull. Flint didn’t know whether it was their minds or because the animals’ owners had broken their spirits.

Flint petted the horse as it pulled the cart downhill, weaving through the tight alleys between buildings. It took him twice as long to reach the walls as it had taken him to walk uphill to the Heartstone. By the time he got there, Agatha was already present with a small group of men and women—most of them looked no older than teenagers. Much to Flint’s surprise, there were several fae among them too: two pucks including Keen, three brownies, and one that mostly appeared human. Altogether there were twenty of them. Including the children, the fort now had seventy to eighty residents. A guard made of twenty individuals felt like overkill.

The humans and fae looked at one another hesitantly and kept their distance. Agatha looked between Flint and the two groups. She nodded at Flint before running off again. Flint could feel the tension in the air, and he knew he had a challenge at hand.

“Before we get started, I think it’s important we establish that I’m not going to pick a watch leader yet. I don’t know any of you and will pick leadership based on merit.”

“What about our skill ranks?” One of the young men asked. “I’ve been training [Marksmanship] as soon as my nodes unlocked. I’m already at rank seven.” He looked at the others for confirmation, but no one spoke up. “That’s one rank from maxing the skill stone! My mastery with the bow should be enough.”

“Who’s Jaimie Bowyer?” Flint asked.

One of the young women stepped up. She looked like the youngest of the lot. Flint knew looks could be deceiving, but he estimated she was barely sixteen. Jaimie’s cheeks reddened, and her eyes drifted to the floor. Flint couldn’t believe she was the one on the list who had caught his attention.

“What’s the rank of your [Archery], Jaimie?” Flint asked.

“It’s at the sixth rank, Mr. Flint.”

“And [Trapping]?”

“The fourth.”

Flint turned his attention to the young man. “You might have almost maxed a tier-one skill stone, Luca, but Jaimie has significantly raised two,” Flint said. “Captain Ironheart, one of the men who captured you, was once my superior in the Iron Army. His [Swordsmanship] skill was at the seventh rank too, but his nerves and attitude cost him his life. He was a terror to work under as well. I’d rather see your performance before making a decision. Command will go to the best human or fae for the job.”

Luca looked horrified as he glanced at the wide-eyed fae. “It’s not a fair unit of measurement since our friends don’t use skill stones. Some of them are considerably older than you and more experienced too.”

None of them protested.

Keen stepped up. One of the brownies and the human-looking fae followed. “Not all of us are here to join the watch,” he said. “We thought you’d need someone to forage in the plains and surrounding hills. Hunt for meat too. I’m an excellent tracker and good with a spear.” He nodded at the brownie. “Bramble has mastered Wyldarrow and is a talented hunter.”

“What about you?” Flint asked, looking at the third member of the party.

“I’m a changeling,” she replied. “These are human lands. If we bump into anyone, they’ll need me to avoid a fight.”

“Can you fight, though?”

The changeling nodded. “I’m an archer first and foremost.” She held out her left arm, and the skin transformed to resemble the bark that covered war beasts. Her fingers twined together, sharpening into a long spike. “My people’s magic lets me do other things too.”

“There are hill giants roaming these lands. Three people aren’t enough.” Flint turned to the humans. “I’m going to need two volunteers to join their party. You won’t just be hunting and foraging but scouting too. I need eyes out there watching out for anyone heading for our walls or other beasts.”

Only Jaimie stepped up. Flint had thought the young folk would have fewer prejudices when it came to working and living with the fae. He had no choice but to decide for them. Luca wasn’t an option after showing his attitude, so he thought back to the ledger. Another candidate had stood out. Neither of their skills had crossed the fourth rank, but they had an interesting combination.

“Rowan?”

The tallest of the men stepped forward. He had a strong jaw, and his physique suggested he had already crossed the threshold into adulthood. Flint could see how [Axeplay] in the [Power Node] had affected his upper body. He had [Wilderness Survival] in the [Aura Node] too.

“Are you happy to join them in the wilds?”

Rowan nodded. Flint let them pick through the weapons and armor and take whatever they wanted. They all took a dagger each. Keen and Rowan both picked a buckler. They also grabbed a short spear and battleaxe, respectively. The changeling, Wren, and Jaimie claimed a bow and quiver each. Meanwhile, everything was too big for Bramble.

After ensuring they all had clothes and sufficient armor—the humans avoided iron too and opted for leathers—Flint opened the gate and let them head out. There weren’t enough weapons for everyone left, so Flint had no choice but to divide the remaining fourteen people into three shifts. Each group had one person with some form of strength enhancement and would be necessary for operating the crank. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the start of a decent city guard.

36

As Maya understood more, her curiosity increased. She’d recently learned the word curiosity, but it never felt like enough. Maya understood hunger a lot better. It was apparent that her human—Flint—was making changes to her body and mind. However, he didn’t understand how much was changing. It angered Maya that he didn’t understand her as well as she understood him. But she loved him still.

Listening in on Flint’s conversations with Winona and Twylip helped a lot. Maya’s knowledge of words and the world improved with every discussion. Two recent developments especially interested her. First of all, she found it amusing how Flint’s scent changed whenever Winona appeared. Maya didn’t know a lot yet, but she understood what that meant.

Recently, Maya had started to believe Winona felt similarly. The moon woman’s scent didn’t change around Flint. However, Maya detected something else through her newest sense. She had recently learned what it was. Essence. Essence let Winona turn moonlight into wings and bolts. The odd existence continued to live in her but had dulled once Flint put the metal collars around her limbs. However, over the last couple of days, whenever Winona was around him, the essence flared.

After Flint changed her again, Maya knew it wasn’t just her fur and body that had transformed. She now had essence in her too. It bubbled inside and coursed through every part of her body as if hunting for a way out. The essence came with urges. It told her to be a bad girl. Flint probably thought Maya was naughty already when she challenged his call as the pack’s leader, so she didn’t want to give in to the essence and make things worse.

The tall grass parted around Maya. It felt like the green was responding to her essence. Maya wanted to go faster, running as fast as her feet would carry her. Unfortunately, Winona would struggle to keep up. Her body burned essence to help her move faster, but it wasn’t enough to keep up with Maya. Besides, too much would most likely tire her out before they found the bad humans.

Whenever Maya left home with Bjorn, they’d run as fast as their legs would carry them. Even then, she had to slow down for him. They’d follow the many scents tracking the best meats and drag them home as a trophy for Flint. Maya knew a time would come when she had to ignore the scents. She didn’t think it would come so soon. However, the thought of taking down bad humans certainly helped.

Maya remembered their scent vividly. It still lingered in her nose and made her sick. There was a dirtiness to their smell that Maya did not like at all. She looked forward to ending them like she had the others. After ascending a steep hill, Maya stopped. Even though she hadn’t sped up, Winona had fallen behind. It took her annoyingly long to catch up. For once, the woman didn’t look like a chunk of the moon. Winona resembled Flint after playing a game of chase. However, her face wasn’t red, and sweat didn’t make her long hair cling to her skin. Instead, her essence faltered. Winona inhaled deeply and then exhaled.

It was then Maya noticed the strange blackness around Winona’s lower legs. It looked like the grass’s shadows had come to life and wrapped around her boots and shins. They coiled and relaxed like they were breathing. Maya knew they weren’t regular shadows, though. She could feel the essence bursting from them.

“I see them,” Winona said.

Maya froze. The moon woman had found the bad humans before her? She turned her nose to the sky and sniffed in all the surrounding scents. Her ears swiveled from side to side, too, trying to listen for oddities. None of her senses gave her what she was looking for. An involuntary whine escaped Maya as she realized she wasn’t as great a huntress as she thought.

“They’re moving faster than I expected.” Winona pointed at a thicket of trees ahead. “I can feel them in the shadows. They’re hiding.” The essence inside Winona flowed away from her stomach to her head, focusing around her eyes and ears. The coiling blackness around her limbs tightened too. “We need to execute a pincer attack.”

Winona lost Maya with her final words. Maya had no idea what “pincher” meant. She knew the word “attack” very well, though. So, she followed Winona’s arm movements as she continued to speak. Left made a lot of sense, as did right. Maya followed the moon woman’s fingers as she talked, and it didn’t take her long to figure out the rest of the plan.

The blackness expanded before they started again. The grass’s shadows wrapped all the way around Winona’s lower half, forming trousers. They slowly enveloped her arms too up to the shoulder. Then they started running again, and Winona moved almost twice as fast as before. It still wasn’t fast enough to keep up with Maya, though.

As they got closer to the thicket, Maya smelled the bad humans’ scent again. Winona was right. They were hiding in the trees. Unlike the men she had killed earlier in the day, their prey smelled especially twisted and vile. Maya couldn’t exactly put a paw on it, but she knew straight away that biting them wasn’t in her interests. Tasting their blood or flesh would most likely make her sick.

Maya stumbled when her essence responded to her thoughts. Once again, the invisible energies boiled up inside of her, begging to get out. She ordered them to hold on for the time being. The opportunity would come soon enough.

The thicket’s trees smelled different from the ones around their home. They didn’t have pointy needles and didn’t smell like the mountains. Instead, Maya detected a sweetness about them. It reminded her of golden sap Flint would buy when they visited colder places. She often begged for a taste, but her human was a miser with the tasty liquid. He’d pour it on fluffy flatbreads and then feed her a tiny corner. For a moment, Maya wondered whether she could use her essence to make the trees give her the sap. Then Winona whistled in the distance and snapped her back to reality.

Bad dog.

Flint often said getting distracted during a fight could get people killed. Even though Maya wasn’t sure whether she liked Winona yet or not, she didn’t want her dead. So she gave herself a good shake, getting rid of idle thoughts, and zipped into the trees.

Maya saw their prey before either of them spotted her. She sped at the closest one but then faltered when the ugly smell coming off them assaulted her nose. It was their breath. Then as Maya slowed, she sensed essence radiating from them too. Unlike the energy in her and Winona, it felt unnatural, like it didn’t belong. Maya’s senses told her that the power emanated from their stomach. It sat there like a sickening circle, and wisps of it broke off to the rest of their body.

The bad humans ate essence!

When a swarm of black hounds rushed past Maya, she almost jumped out of her skin. She scrambled away from them with her tail between her legs—even though she wasn’t scared. It took her a moment to realize they were made of shadows, much like the blackness surrounding Winona’s limbs. The essence inside gave them heft and left Maya with a chill she hadn’t felt since her time as a wee pup.

The bad humans screamed like children, waving their monstrous axes around. Their blades ripped through the hounds like they were cloth. Maya watched from between the trees as the essence inside the bad humans flowed through their arms into their weapons. The energy burned through the wolves and the thought of what they’d do to her flesh terrified Maya. However, their movements slowed with every hound. Their essence didn’t run out, but the dying hounds filled the air with cold and pushed the vileness back.

Maya knew she wouldn’t get a second opportunity. So, she ran at the bad humans. The essence inside her boiled up once again, begging to get out. She didn’t hold it back this time. A rumble stirred in Maya’s throat as she closed in on her enemies. One of them saw her and his eyes widened. The man raised his axe and ran at Maya.

He moved much faster than Maya expected. His bulging limbs and large belly suggested the man preferred power over speed. Then her new senses highlighted the sickle essence pulsing through his body. It enhanced his speed, letting the bad man surprise her. Maya knew then that if she stopped, the giant axe head would cleave her in two. So, she pushed herself to run faster. The essence within once again struggled to get out, this time reverberating through her torso and limbs. Yet she kept it within.

When the man swung at her, Maya dropped into a crouch. Her forward momentum carried her onward and through the big man’s legs. Much to her relief, the alien essence only enhanced his speed and not control. He stumbled forwards, having overcommitted to the attack. Her own essence gathered in her throat, and Maya instinctively understood how to release it.

Unwilling to let the opening go, Maya skidded to a halt, spun around, and barked. The trees in front of her shook as the wind carried the sound, distorting and pulsing, through the thicket. Despite the volume, her ears didn’t hurt and bones didn’t rattle. On the other hand, her enemy found himself thrown off his feet and into a tree trunk. A sickening crunch sounded from within his body. He stood pressed against the trunk for a moment as the air rippled around him, then he fell to the floor in a limp heap. The second bad human roared. Even though he’d heard her bark and seen his companion’s fate, the man charged.

Maya barked again but didn’t get the same effect. The essence didn’t respond to her call. Instead, it felt as if whatever transported the energy through her throat had coiled shut, and the unwinding felt gradual. There was more essence in her still, but it refused to break through the barrier. It coursed through her limbs and spine, making her paws throb. The air smelt off to Maya, much like after lightning. Then it occurred to her why the bark had sounded familiar.

It’s thunder.

Thunder had never bothered Maya like it did other dogs. She enjoyed how the sky lit up and spoke while showering her with rain and then sang. Maya’s tail took off despite the man charging at her. If her barks were thunder, then it was likely she had lightning too. She lunged at her opponent, but all of a sudden found herself standing in the trees past him.

The yelling stopped. Maya turned around to find the man looking around with a confused expression on his face. His brow furrowed as he saw her when peeking over his shoulder. Then the bad human ran at her again. Maya fell into a crouch, ready to meet his charge. She could feel the air around her body crackling. When he was close, she jumped at him.

The bad human didn’t expect Maya’s lunge. He swung his axe downwards and hit her, but with the shaft’s base and not the head. A loud yelp escaped Maya as the blow glanced off her ribs, cracking something inside. She landed uncomfortably on her front limbs and stumbled onto her face. Maya struggled to recover, worried the bad human would be upon her at any moment, but he didn’t come. Instead, the man lay on the floor, spasming. At first, Maya thought she had gotten an attack off too. Then she saw essence crackle in his body like lightning, forcing the vile energy out.

Much to Maya’s annoyance, the ugly essence regained control, and he got back on his feet before coming at her again. She tried calling on her remaining essence, but neither her throat nor her spine responded. Neither part of her was ready to wield thunder or lightning yet. The man was almost on Maya, and she was preparing to run when Winona stepped out of the shadows. Black tendrils uncoiled from around her arms and grabbed the man, pulling him off-balance. Then she punched him in the throat with her left fist, and the shadows shaped themselves into a spike, impaling him.

Maya didn’t need to get closer to confirm the man was dead. The ugly essence inside him rushed out of his body and disappeared into the air. Then everything in him went still. Winona approached the man Maya had downed with her bark and stabbed him through the stomach.

“I’m sorry I didn’t help earlier, Maya,” Winona said. “You’re much faster than me, and after your bark, I wanted to see what else you could do.” The man at her feet gurgled and coughed up a chunk of purple flesh. Maya recoiled on sensing its essence. The smell and feeling together made her sick. “If you ever see, smell, or sense anything like this in the future, run and find me. We don’t want any of this getting anywhere close to home. Alright?”

Maya barked, hoping it was enough to get her confirmation across.

37

Even though the gardens at the top of the slope would have benefited from the nutrients in the dead slavers’ bodies, Flint got the new guard to bury them outside the walls. He didn’t feel right about grinding up human bones and wanted to spare the children the sight. It was likely most of them had seen worse already, but it was a happy day for them, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Unlike the humans, the fae in the watch had nominated a female brownie. The males didn’t appear particularly willing to talk to anyone that wasn’t one of their kind. Flint couldn’t tell whether or not they belonged to a matriarchal societal structure. He didn’t know a lot about the fae, but most of them were led by women, unlike humans.

Winona was a prime example. He hadn’t asked for details, but her passing mention of the Order of Sun and Moon had given him a rough idea of fae society. The female-led order had once functioned as a policing force, leading the Wyld’s forces against monsters from beyond the disk and guarding their land’s borders. The way Winona took charge also suggested that she was used to being the one who made decisions and directed people.

The female brownie took the lead, guiding a small force down the slope with the cart. Flint was pleased when a couple of the teenage boys followed. They dug graves together and buried them. He could see the group taking pleasure in disposing of the corpses together. He wasn’t surprised. If it were him alone, he would’ve dug a pit, thrown the bodies in, and set them ablaze. It was more than anything slavers deserved.

The rest of the day passed in reasonable harmony. Flint fixed up the three most intact buildings by the outer walls. He hoped eventually fae and humans could peacefully cohabitate. For the time being, to deal with racial tensions, he made the living quarters on opposite cliff walls. The building in the middle would serve as their mess hall, armory, and whatever else they needed. Eventually, he planned on fixing up more structures in the area. It would make it convenient for the hunting party to drop off their kills and materials they collected near the gate for processing.

Every member of the new guard expressed some degree of displeasure at the shift pattern Flint put together. He forbade switching at the start too. Every watch needed someone capable of comfortably using the gate mechanism and someone who had [Keen Eye] or eye enhancement magic. Even though it was possible to arrange one shift with only humans and another with just fae, Flint enforced a mix of both sides. He reasoned it would force them to communicate and cooperate. If they didn’t want to follow his shift pattern, they’d have to address the matter behind his back and make other arrangements. Both scenarios had them working together, which worked for him.

When Adam swung by the gate, Flint used his help to construct firepits. Two would burn atop the walls and keep the watch warm. Then he placed two at ground level, too—one in the mess hall and one just outside. The stone pot of porridge from the morning was still half full. Once Flint got back to his stone hut, he sent two youngsters down with an urn of water each. He instructed them to ensure the guard always had water stores and to hydrate the porridge before heating it up over the fire.

Most of the humans had set up their camp around Flint’s water source. He told them it would be safer for all non-combatants to find homes in and around the fort. It soon became apparent that not everyone was willing to stay as close to the fae as the guard. It was mostly the older humans who hung around and the few youngsters they had successfully influenced. There were a few outliers as well—the pregnant women.

“Who is going to fetch us water and run our errands?” One of the older men asked. “It’s the young’s duty to serve the old. Anyone who went uphill chasing the fae is an ingrate and a traitor to their kind.”

Flint had to bite his tongue. He would’ve liked it if people like them had gotten on the carts to Hammercrest. It would reduce the chance of conflict in the community he wanted to build—people like the old man would only plant seeds of discord and resentment. Flint considered people like him cowards. They didn’t like the fae and didn’t care about his cause. They were too scared to take the trip through the Verdant Plains. If the man’s remaining hair wasn’t snow white and his skin wasn’t wrinkled, Flint would’ve given him a piece of his mind.

“Fair enough,” Flint sighed. “It would’ve been easier for you to live by the fort since you’d just have to help in the gardens and tend to the young ones for work. Things won’t be easy down here. People living around here will have to partake in hard manual labor.”

The man and his surrounding huddle had glared at Flint but didn’t speak up against him. After all, they’d sworn to work for the fort’s betterment. Perhaps they didn’t expect him to enforce it on them because of their age, but Flint believed in tough love.

“Only the sick get away with not doing anything. People who want food and shelter need to work.”

“I’m pretty sick, Mr. Flint,” one of the older women said. “My body can’t really deal with the climb or hard labor.”

“Well, the healer’s center is at the fort,” Flint said. “If you can’t get up there yourself, I’ll arrange for the young puck lads to carry you up. The easiest job I have down here involves tending to the horses.” Flint glanced around the fire, looking at the clenching jaws and narrowed eyes. “I suppose the watch needs someone to clean up after them and cook their meals too.”

No one bothered to express their distaste for the fae afterward. Flint expected the numbers to halve after morning came. The young men and women didn’t appear to care about his declaration, but the rest didn’t appear as sure. Ed and Agatha approached him with both their tasks completed. He thanked the pair and sent the latter uphill.

Meanwhile, Ed got an invitation to share the shelter with Flint and the dogs. Once again, the older folk appeared surprised that Flint didn’t offer to give up his home to them, but he ignored them. Instead, he refreshed both totems and hoped they’d serve everyone well.

Fresh meat, vegetables, and bread arrived later in the day. Twylip had sold more of her creations for supplies to last everyone a couple of days. Thanks to Lefa and a couple of new arcanically gifted friends, she hoped her garden would start producing fruit and vegetables to start feeding everyone. However, they’d need to arrange a trade deal with Lea’s Slumber for grains and more lumber.

“I need to find more craftsmen or use the skill stones to create more,” Flint said. “We’ll need to trade a fair bit with Lea’s Slumber if we want to live comfortably. I don’t want all the pressure to be on you and your alchemical creations.”

“I’m okay for now but would eventually like to reap some of the profits for myself,” she replied. “Lefa has given me a list of plants she’d like, and Miss Lya has stores containing almost all of them. She claims a couple of them are great for making fabric. The village doesn’t have many options other than wool, and everyone makes their clothes at home. It would be great if we had a tailor or seamstress who could make the most of it.”

“Then we can trade it with the village.”

Flint looked over the ledger and was glad to find a tailor and a seamstress. The latter was a young woman with only three ranks in [Tailoring]. The other had almost maxed [Sewing], but the name and age suggested they were among the elderly folk shooting him death glares. However, the old man had [Clothier] too, which meant he had experience turning rough material into thread and fabric. If Flint could get them to train new people, it would make life a lot easier.

Fortunately, Ed’s list mentioned [Clothier], [Sewing], and [Tailoring] too. There were two of the first type of stone and one each of the latter skills. Flint imagined it was enough to set up a textile or clothing trade with Lea’s Slumber.

“It’s doable,” Flint said. “We have two people to start and stones for training others up. It might take us a while, but it’s certainly an achievable goal.”

“That sounds great!” Twylip exclaimed. She took the lists off him to gloss over them. “Imagine what would happen if the life quest gave you [Artificing]? Not everyone in Lea’s Slumber could afford their creations, but we could negotiate better deals and use it for defense.”

“Let’s not count our chickens yet,” Flint laughed. “That’s a third-tier skill stone. Permanent enchantments are indeed useful, but the chances of us getting something like it are incredibly low.”

Even though the planning got Flint excited, and he found himself dreaming of the settlement flourishing, he needed to rest. One of the older folks had [Cooking], and they used it to whip a glorious braised lamb dish using the ingredients. The heat warmed Flint inside and out, and he wanted to go to bed as soon as he finished.

Much to his surprise, it wasn’t just Bjorn and Flint that followed him in. The three new bloodhounds followed too. They snuggled up to one another in the far corner away from Flint. He didn’t mind. Flint guessed the slavers didn’t treat them particularly well, given their lean state and their missing clumps of fur. The humans didn’t display much fear of them, so he assumed they were primarily used to keep the fae in check.

[Totem of Healing] would fix them up overnight—and, hopefully, get rid of all fleas and ticks too. Then Flint would try to get close to them once daytime came. Flint’s empathic sense helped identify their concerns and fears, so he made a show of stroking Bjorn’s head. If they saw him treat the big lug well, they’d want some of the same affection too, with time.

38

The following morning, Flint woke to find his bedroll and shirt soaked in sweat. Maya had returned during the night, and when she found Bjorn in her place laid out next to Flint, she had piled on across the pair. Even though Flint enjoyed being a part of the dogpile, his body was much too hot. He crawled out from underneath the team, pulled on a pair of trousers, and exited his shelter.

The skies were already orange and crimson with dawn’s lights, and the camp still smelled of last night’s stew. He saw people sleeping outside, and [Keen Eye] highlighted others through holes in the walls. Flint felt terrible about making them sleep outside after everything they’d been through but hoped it would convince them to move back uphill.

Flint washed up and relieved himself. Ed joined him just as he was about to serve himself cold leftovers for breakfast.

“You can sleep in, Ed,” Flint said. “After everything all of you have been through, I don’t expect everyone to start working straight away. Given all the work you put in last night, it’s alright if you rest.”

“I’ve not had the chance to work in weeks, Mr. Flint,” Ed replied. “The slave brand left me feeling helpless, hopeless, and useless. I no longer want to feel useless. Let me help, please. Give me work.”

“Did you think about what you’d like to do with your future?”

Ed nodded. “I don’t want to be a builder. However, I like the skill and don’t want to give it up either. So, I went down to the Heartstone before bed and moved the stone to my [Mind Node].”

“What did it give you?” Flint asked.

“I got [Earth Molding] as my first ability.” Ed pressed his hand to the ground next to him, and light brown light pulsed down his arms. It traveled through his fingertips and into the ground, making it ripple. When Ed raised his hand, a spike followed. “It’s like the [Shape] ability you use, Mr. Flint.”

“It appears to work a lot faster and allows for rougher shapes, though,” Flint commented. “You pulled the spike out of the ground like it was in your pocket. It takes me much longer to do the same.”

Flint took the spike from Ed and tested it. It felt no different from the ambient stone, showing the same hardness and weight. Curious about his new ability, Flint used [Change Density] and willed the spike to get denser. It shrunk in his hands, getting skinnier and darker. The brand-new ability drained a lot more energy than he initially expected, but the two totems would replenish him during breakfast, so he continued pouring. Eventually, Flint ended up with an almost black stone needle. The point appeared dull, but he could feel the transformed material’s strength.

“That was amazing,” Ed said, wide-eyed. He took the spike from Flint, tested its flexibility, and poked himself with it. “You can’t even tell that it’s the same stone!” Ed held the spike with both hands and tried bending it until his face went red. He made no headway without [Builder’s Brawn]. “You try, Mr. Flint.”

Despite [Builder’s Brawn], Flint made little headway with the spike. After all, builders were expected to break stone with tools, not their hands. It didn’t give Flint the strength he wanted. So, he channeled [Change Density] and the spike expanded, softening in his hands. The stone didn’t resume its original, smooth, conical shape. Instead, it took on a warped cylindrical form. Eventually, parts of it broke off as holes started to form, and Flint found himself with a clump of dust.

“Is that ability from [Building]?” Ed asked.

Flint shook his head. “I placed [Alteration] in my [Mind Node].” He passed the lump of crumbling stone to Ed, and most of it disintegrated. Ed turned the remains into another spike, and the resulting creation was smaller. However, it featured the same hardness as the original material. Flint wondered whether at higher ranks [Change Density] would let him change the material altogether. “You could probably use your new [Earth Molding] comfortably in combat and for building too.”

Ed nodded. “It feels more energy-efficient than [Shape] too.”

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes to eat and get ready,” Flint said. “Then we’ll see how energy-efficient it really is.”

“Yes, Mr. Flint!” Ed exclaimed, excitedly jumping to attention. Flint waited for the boy to rush to the pool before laughing. He liked the boy’s spirit. The newcomers weren’t due to assemble for a meeting until noon, so he decided to make the most of the time and get the current project out of the way.

Despite the countless new concerns, Flint remained wary of his objectives. After completing the bridge and resetting the door trap, he still needed to construct another trap and fix the inner gate’s mechanism. Hopefully, the [City Planning Table] would give him the tools to better manage the relevant grounds and perhaps empower critical buildings.

[Earth Molding] proved a more efficient digging ability than [Shape]. It let Ed move stone much faster than Flint but tired him out within an hour. The combat applications were apparent, but the ability would need a couple of ranks before it was ready. Ed didn’t mold the stone into ideal blocks either. However, Flint let it go on account of his inexperience. He highlighted Ed’s shortcomings and advised him to work on them.

“So, what would you like to do with your future, Ed?” Flint asked as they finished the digging. “I appreciate your help, but I don’t want you continuing in a field you don’t particularly enjoy.”

“Until recently, I was ready to spend my life building for the Iron Army,” he replied. “My mother wanted me gone on account of my father being fae, and I was afraid of continuing to lie about my identity.”

“How did you get away with it in the first place? Didn’t they want to check your papers?”

“I come from a village near where the front lines are now. The war destroyed everything, Mr. Flint. They were willing to believe that my paperwork burned with the village.” Ed sighed. After a short rest, he had recovered enough energy to continue working. Using [Earth Molding], he smoothed out the walls and floors before curving the corners along the moat’s bottom. Any troll that fell in would have a tough time getting out. “Anyway, I was hoping to serve two to three terms as you did and then head off somewhere they don’t ask for papers.”

“I imagine that changed after your adventure with Colonel Smith?”

Ed nodded. “I want the strength to defend myself and people I care about,” he answered. “I had friends in the company Colonel Smith got killed. I watched helplessly as the axe-carrying monsters chopped them into pieces.” He chuckled, eyes filling with tears. “I was ready for them to do the same to me, but they left me alive because I’m young and have a nice face. I don’t want to think about where I would’ve ended up if not for you, Mr. Flint.”

The boy looked like he needed comfort. Even though Flint disliked physical contact, he broke his rule and pulled Ed into a hug. “It’s alright, friend. As long as you live within these walls, I’ll ensure no one takes away your power to choose.”

Ed embraced Flint, and the tears intensified. After a quick cry, Ed pulled away. He smiled at Flint, wiping his eyes. “Even if you give me orders I don’t agree with?”

Flint shrugged. “You have the power to choose whether to follow an order or not,” Flint answered. “I’m the one taking care of this place, not your commanding officer. I might ask things of you, and it’s your decision whether you’d like to follow it or not. Now tell me, what kind of combatant would you like to be? [Earth Molding] gives you a fair bit of defense.”

“I want to be quick,” Ed answered. “I’d like to create obstacles and dance around my targets, making their life miserable.”

“You and Maya will make great friends,” Flint commented, chuckling.

The sheepdog raised her head, glancing at the pair. She watched them for a moment before returning to her nap. Flint didn’t know yet what had happened the night before—he still hadn’t encountered Winona. However, the empathic link told him that Maya was exhausted and didn’t like how intrusive the new people were. She’d followed Flint after waking up to get away from them.

The time to congregate with the others was rapidly approaching, and people were already crossing the bridge and heading toward the fort. Flint built ladders on either side of the moat so residents could climb out in case they fell in. Then he climbed to the top and had Ed mold the moat’s edges to make them rounded. For the sake of safety, he intended to have a good swimmer posted by the bridge for when people fell in.

“We’ll fill it later,” Flint said. “I think I’ve found the sewer system, but we’ll need to ensure there are no blockages that can lead to flooding.”

As they were walking away, Flint felt a distant hum. He spun around, looking back toward the Heartstone, and the feeling intensified. It took him a moment to put two and two together. The ancient pillar counted the moat and bridge as two separated traps.

“Go on without me, Ed. I’ll see you in a moment.”

Ed glanced up at the sky. “Are you sure? We don’t have a lot of time.”

Flint nodded. “I’m getting used to running up and downhill. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Ed appeared hesitant but nodded and headed uphill. Flint smiled, watching him go. The Iron Army often gave high-performing, second-term builders an apprentice. Teaching them the Building Division’s ways and training them was their responsibility. Flint would often wonder what it would be like to have one—even though he preferred spending his free time with dogs. Now that he had someone young and impressionable to guide, Flint felt a new warmth that he only felt with his pack.

After getting through the crowds heading in the opposite direction, Flint made a beeline for the Heartstone. He communed with the stone pillar, his heart pounding out of his chest.

Objective completed!

Choose one of the following skill stones.

Fletching

Enchanting

Tinkering

As far as Flint knew, [Enchanting]’s effects were temporary unless the runes had a source of magic—essence. They had a couple of fletchers in the settlement now but no materials for making bolts. As a result, it didn’t count as the best of picks. The concept of [Tinkering] intrigued Flint.

Adam had displayed an aptitude for simple mechanisms and had an elegant touch. If he combined his current skills with [Tinkering], he’d become a valuable asset for the fort. Not only would his creations help protect the hub, but they would become another valuable product for trade. Flint picked the stone and rushed uphill toward the fort.

39

When Flint entered the fort and found close to a hundred eyes watching him, he was glad for his growing beard. Despite the many hours of working in the sun, people claimed his skin was smooth like a child’s. It didn’t matter that he had a square, well-defined jaw. Most people who didn’t know Flint assumed he was much younger than his actual age and treated him as such. Now that he had a full-face beard, his reflection showed a much older person.

The humans and the fae looked at Flint expectantly. He didn’t have a grand speech for them. All he had was the truth, and he let it flow freely. Both the fae and the humans listened quietly as he detailed the life quest—leaving out the bit about the Champion, of course. First, however, he told them about the fort’s value and history.

“I’m sure some of you know that there are stories of past champions’ artifacts littering the disk,” Flint said. “I’ve heard that they’re tools of incredible power, capable of changing the tide of battle and bending primordial forces to the wielder’s will. The fae sent scouts—”

“The Wyld,” Winona interrupted him. “Every non-human present in this room is fae. The allied forces fighting the Iron Army are the Wyld. After our alliances shifted to your camp, we lost that name.”

“Very well.” Flint sighed. “The Wyld sent scouts to this fort looking for said artifacts, but they found nothing. Winona, a Daughter of the Sun and Moon, was their leader. I’m sure you’ve seen her swear an oath to this land to serve the fae’s interests.” A whisper spread through the crowd. Flint noticed that they were mainly concentrated among the pucks and brownies. “You know what, I’m sick of these distinctions. I appreciate that we have an almost equal division of human and fae here, but we’re one community.”

“What do you propose then?” It was the highly vocal pregnant woman. She still looked at the pucks and brownies with disgust in her eyes.

“It will take time, but I want to work toward living with no distinctions. Most humans don’t like me. Hell, the villagers down there don’t particularly like me either. I’m a Woodson, after all.” Some of the fae appeared confused. “Some of you call my kind Wyldbloods.”

“The villagers don’t care you’re a Wyldblood.” Twylip interrupted. “Lea was a Wyldblood, and half her party were fae. Some in the village might choose to forget, but we’re all like you, Flint. The residents of Lea’s Slumber do not like outsiders and meddlers, so you and everyone here count as such.”

“They don’t hate the fae?” Seven the brownie asked across the room at the humans.

“Most of them don’t,” Twylip answered. “They just hate you for being their neighbor.”

A couple of chuckles sounded in the crowd. Seven looked around for the sources, scowling, but Alais pulled her back onto her bottom. “I propose we don’t distinguish ourselves as fae, human, or Wyldblood,” Flint continued. “We’re one group now. Henceforth, I’d like to think of us all as Woodsons.” Angry whispers sounded from all around him, and Flint heard several hisses too. “I’m a Woodson, and neither side has ever accepted me, so we’re all in the same boat now. If you return to the Iron Army or the Wyld, will they let you stay out of the war?” No one answered. “That means we’re all Woodsons now.”

As Flint’s eyes scanned the crowd, his sights eventually rested on the younger children. They were the one unsegregated group in the hall—humans and fae sat side by side. None of them had parents to tell them not to associate with one another. “You’re Woodsons now,” Flint said, and they beamed up at him. “We’re one group. This doesn’t mean that I’m rewriting your old identity. I’m talking about your allegiance. Anyone who joins us in the future and swears an oath to this land is a Woodson too.”

The children echoed the word “Woodson.” Flint would’ve loved it if the teenagers and adults joined in, but they glared at him and the children.

“I’m putting together a council. To ensure that everyone is equally represented, Winona and Twylip will sit on it with me. To even things out, I’d like one more representative from the fae.” Flint looked at the segregated group of pucks and brownies. “Keen. I’d like you to have a word with your friends and get back to me.”

Keen appeared surprised. He glanced at Alias and then nodded. “I nominate Seven,” he replied. “She’ll speak for us on the council.”

Winona appeared as surprised as Flint felt. He expected Alais to be the one who joined the council. After all, he used to be a scholar. He nodded at the brownie and waved at her to join them. It took some urging from her friends, but the light-green tinted woman weaved through the crowd and stood next to Winona.

“We’d like a representative too,” the pregnant woman spoke up once more. “This Twylip woman is from the village. She’s not been through our hardships. She won’t understand our struggles.”

Twylip clenched her jaw. Before she could reply with a sharp retort, Flint stepped in. “Very well. Speak amongst yourselves, make nominations, and then you can decide as a community who’s fit to represent you.”

Flint’s statement shut the woman up. He guessed that she expected resistance and wanted power for herself. His reasonable reaction likely threw a wrench in whatever she was planning.

“Every decision we make here will be based on merit,” Flint said. “The Woodson fort’s guard consists of both fae and humans. I’ll observe their performance over the next few weeks and choose their leader based on their ability to do the job well. The same will go for everyone. I’ve poured over the list of skills everyone has and the available skill stones. For the rest of the day, I’m going to meet everyone individually, and we’ll discuss your role in our community. I’ve picked a few people for certain roles, but things are still flexible for everyone else. Agatha will send you in alphabetical order so we can talk at length.”

Flint’s throat was parched when he finished. The conversation felt like it had drained him too. He didn’t look forward to the conversations he had planned. While he was looking for a space to set up, Percy ducked into the fort. The older man’s eyes widened when he saw the fae milling around, and he ran downhill, back into the village. Flint ignored him, scratched Maya’s ear, and found a secluded spot.

When Adam appeared in his door, leading the first person in, Flint took the smith aside and pressed the new skill stone into his hand. Adam’s eyes widened as he stared at it. The color gave away its status as a second-tier stone. He nodded at Flint and left the fort, heading toward Lea’s Slumber. Only Agatha and Ed remained to assist Flint, but it was good enough for him.

People with skill stones vital to the settlement came first. Only one person with an agriculture-related skill stone had survived the slavers and journey to the settlement. Most fae were working in their field, and Flint worried they’d put up a fight. Instead, the older woman accepted her position silently and rejected the offer of new skill stones.

“I have one, and at my age, there is no point in picking up a new one,” she said. “Focus on rearing the younger folk. They’ll be around much longer than me.”

Much to Flint’s disappointment, she was a rare exception. Most of the people in her age group made demands, and even though Flint didn’t cave, he played along. He made a list of people who would get common skill stones after everyone else got whatever they needed. Flint didn’t feel right treating people differently based on their age, so the attitude of “I’m older and know better” infuriated him.

In a few instances, he needed to compromise. The man with [Clothier] and [Sewing] would be essential for training new folk. Flint had no choice but to give him a [Cutting] skill stone, even though his [Control] and [Mind Node] were occupied. The multi-purpose skill stone benefited the most from the two nodes. The man’s demeanor changed, and he agreed to train apprentices as well as only take a small fraction of profit from his creations’ sales.

Flint worked his way through the list, dealing with adults and older folk with essential skills first. Then he dealt with teenagers that met the same criteria. Then came people with skill stones related to non-essential skills. Most of them were young men, women, and a couple of young mothers. They were still in their teens or not long past them. Flint guessed they either hadn’t yet found the opportunity to find compatible stones to nurture their careers or didn’t have the will to work.

After several long conversations, the latter didn’t prove as true as he feared. The vocal pregnant woman, Pira, who Flint was growing to dislike, turned out to be a terrified girl barely out of her teens. She was terrified for her and her child’s future in the Woodson grounds. However, the fact that she recognized it as the Woodson territory and expressed her intention of wanting to fit in but not knowing how gave Flint hope. She’d never dealt with the fae, and they terrified her.

“I may have a position for you that might suit your current skill stone and help you get to know some of the fae,” Flint said. Pira’s back stiffened as she patiently waited for him to continue. “You have [Cooking] at a reasonably high level. I’d like to give you the [First Aid] skill stone and put you in the group that’ll be caring for the children—human and fae. We have a trio willing to take care of their education and people willing to train them in trade skills. However, not a lot of people are willing to watch over the little ones and let them just be children.”

“I don’t know anything about [First Aid] or medicine, though, Mr. Flint.”

“Twylip can teach you.” Flint smiled. “It will help you balance life here with having a new child. All you have to do is help cook healthy meals for the children, take care of their health, and ensure they have decent childhoods from here on. Can you do that?” Pira nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. “Ed will sort you out with your skill stone. Twylip will show you the ropes. After that, you’ll need to talk to Alais, Seven, and Lefa on how to handle the children best.”

The younger teens were the easiest to deal with. Most of them had not long entered puberty. They either had no skill stones, or, much like Ed, their skills weren’t nurtured enough to matter. Nevertheless, Flint talked to them about their future aspirations, looked over the settlement’s requirements, and assigned jobs accordingly.

In the end, he had a fair number of skill stones leftover but thought it best to [Shape] a closed room and store them away. It felt wrong lying, but he didn’t want to give in to the entitled few. After setting aside the minimum he could get away with giving them, he set aside the bulk for the children. Once they came of age, the little ones would need skill stones to get started. Flint thought it best to give them a good start in life.

40

When Ed woke Flint up the following morning, Flint couldn’t help but feel an inkling of guilt. Of the sixty-something new residents in the Woodson fort, forty were human. A little over a third of them were children, and the Heartstone didn’t react to them yet. The elderly were a dozen on the other end of the spectrum, and everyone in between was a teenager or a young adult. Flint had treated the middle group fairly but not the older folk.

The slavers had collected close to three dozen first-tier skill stones. It was a small fortune. Then they had dropped fifteen after death, and half of those were higher-tiered stones. While he stored the latter for the future, he’d freely handed out stones to the younger people. He’d ensured they had at least two, if not three, nodes filled.

Meanwhile, only the older people who agreed to train younger people got a stone. He didn’t trust the others to live up to their promise and contribute, so he had passed on them. Flint was sure there were people in the settlement furious with him, but he reasoned it was inevitable. He didn’t want to invest in people who couldn’t or wouldn’t contribute.

“The hunting party got back at first light, Mr. Flint,” Ed said, handing him his clothes. The young man was already dressed and had a short spear slung across his shoulder.

Flint wanted to fill out the boy’s skill stones, but Ed had only accepted the second-tier skill stone [Spearplay]. It now sat in his [Control Node] while [Aura] and [Power] remained empty. Ed wanted more time to think about how he wanted to progress. Flint had suggested he place [Shield Arts] in one of the other two nodes, but Ed rejected the idea. He wanted one hand free to use [Earth Molding] on the fly. Ed planned on working in the guard, learning the ropes with the hunting party, as well as helping Flint build.

Following a demonstration by Ed, three teenagers had claimed the [Building] skill stones they had gained. The two boys had placed them in the [Power Node] while the girl wanted to mimic Ed and placed it in the [Mind Node]. Flint was happy to have helping hands and people to teach, so he didn’t mind Ed taking a step back.

“It’s time they watch and get their Cores then,” Flint said. He handed Ed a list of names and the Cores they’d be getting. “I want all of them with three filled nodes. Perhaps we should let that information out. Anyone willing to join the defensive or hunting forces are guaranteed to have three nodes filled.”

“That might annoy the others, Mr. Flint.”

“So be it. The guard, human or fae, will be risking their lives to protect us. They deserve more.” Flint sat up, yawning. “When you decide on how you’d like to fill your remaining nodes, let me know. Alright, Ed?”

“Yes, Mr. Flint.” He looked at Flint’s prepared box of skill stones hesitantly. “You’re not going to give it to them yourself, Mr. Flint?”

“No. People see you as my apprentice now, Ed. It should be fine for you to deal with the matter. If there’s trouble, then you can come and get me. Otherwise, you’re my link to whatever is going on up front.”

“What about the hounds?” Ed asked. Flint looked at the boy, confused. “They’ve been whining by the gate since after the first night. Apparently, Bjorn tried to lure them away yesterday, but they didn’t budge.”

Flint sighed. “You’re still going to guard for me. As for the dogs, I’ll visit them after lunch. Adam and I need to meet regarding the inner gate first.”

“Yes, Mr. Flint.”

The hounds were outside the stone hut as Flint expected. He’d been so preoccupied with everything going on that he had forgotten about giving the new hounds time. The day ahead was going to be another hectic one, but he hoped to find the time to deal with them. It pleased him that Bjorn was making an effort with them, though. While Maya followed Flint on his heel, the snow dog had disappeared for most of the previous day.

Flint was glad to see that only a few people remained around his end of the slope. There were no old folk around, just a couple of groups of teenagers. He recognized one pair as the ones in charge of tending to the horses. After Flint’s gifts, they had [Animal Handling], [Butchery], [Skinning], and [Tanning] between them. Flint hoped that, with time, they’d fulfill multiple purposes. Taking apart the creatures the hunting party brought back and using every part of the beast sounded great.

The rest were other builders and a pair of herbalists charged with finding valuable mushrooms and herbs from around the Verdant Plain’s edge.

As long as someone kept watch and they had a couple of guards watching their back, all would be fine. Their role wasn’t a permanent one anyway. Once Twylip found everything she wanted, they wouldn’t have to head out anymore.

Flint thought about finding time to talk to his fellow council members—mostly Twylip and Winona—about their individual roles. Twylip’s was set, but he wasn’t sure where Winona stood. She had made several promises regarding teaching a new generation of mages and protecting the base. Unfortunately, they hadn’t found the time to converse privately since the new guests arrived. Flint would’ve liked to put her in charge of defense and directing the hunting parties. However, helping the fae settle in and adapt was taking up all of her time.

Bjorn followed Ed downhill, leaving Flint to wonder what was going on with the bloodhounds. He wondered whether their handler was one of the crushed Vikings. Dogs just wanted to love. Even if their master flipped from caring to abusive frequently, they loved the person that befriended and took care of them. They appeared almost healthy after spending time around the totems, but the bloodhounds were probably mourning their lost friends. If it weren’t for Bjorn, Flint believed it would have been a lot worse than the whining.

After instructing the new builders to clear the rubble by the guard’s quarters for proper stables, Flint started his journey uphill. The slope was mostly deserted until he crossed the bridge. The structures were still in varying stages of disrepair, but the new residents were making themselves at home. Flint would’ve preferred they stay in the fort. It was much safer, after all. However, he couldn’t force them. They were uphill from the moat, and that would have to suffice for the time being.

Flint recognized a couple of faces. They were among the group that had expressed a particular distaste for the fae and had managed to rally a few youngsters into their camp. It amused him, watching them shoot death glares at their new neighbors—pucks and brownies who had similar concerns regarding humans. If an enemy force got through the outer wall, they wouldn’t have far to go before finding safety.

As Flint got closer to the inner walls, his jaw dropped. Twylip had started working on the soft soil as soon as Adam and Bjorn cleared the area. However, when Flint checked it the day before, it looked like nothing more than dirt. Now, he didn’t just see sprouts but knee-high bushes. A couple of young trees had sprouted just within the outer walls too.

Adam was already on-site with a variety of tools Flint had never seen before. A crate of metal gears and belts sat next to him too. However, it was his company that got Flint’s attention. Miss Lya, Mr. Mayor, Jerome, and a couple of others stood around talking at him. Twylip was present too. The redness marking her neck and her clenched jaw gave away her displeasure.

“We expected you to have the decency to call a meeting,” Mr. Mayor said.

“I’m sorry,” Flint replied. “I was hoping to get everyone settled in first.” He looked at Miss Lya apologetically, and she flashed him a sweet smile. “This isn’t how I want to do things, but I couldn’t just turn enslaved people away. I know that you’re not happy having fae as your neighbors.”

“Of course you couldn’t turn these people away!” Mr. Mayor exclaimed. He glanced at the early risers pausing to watch and listen. He lowered his volume before continuing. “We might not like having new neighbors, but you did the right thing helping these people. Slavery hasn’t existed in these parts since Lea made the village her home. The village would think less of you for turning them away.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Flint looked at his friends, hoping they’d alleviate his confusion.

“You had over half a day to let us know that there were slavers at the gates and didn’t think to let us know or ask for help.” Mr. Mayor’s brow furrowed as he spoke. His words sounded rehearsed, but the tone wasn’t convincing. “You didn’t just risk Adam’s life but ours too. What would happen if this plan of yours failed and they targeted the village next?”

“Twylip had instructions to destroy the bridge—”

“And how long would that have lasted? Don’t you get it, Flint? I wanted you gone because you’d bring war, death, and destruction to these lands. Now that all three are here, the least you could do is let us know! We could’ve sent people to help you.” Mr. Mayor glanced at Jerome as he fidgeted. “Maybe not him, but we have hunters, trappers, and pikemen. They could’ve bolstered your ranks and improved your odds. I was willing to tolerate you, Flint, but coexistence will be a challenge if you don’t communicate with us!”

“Instead, Twylip informed us hours before your battle,” Miss Lya said. “We managed to get a militia together and could’ve maybe held the fort if you failed, but you put us in danger, Flint. We pulled our guard patrols back so as not to interfere with your life quest, but it feels like that was a mistake.”

Flint didn’t know what to say. After their initial meetings and the cloak-and-dagger regarding Lea’s artifact, he thought their relationship would forever be one of animosity. It’s how Flint saw humans in most positions of authority. He had told Twylip to warn them, but he hadn’t thought of asking them for help.

“I’m sorry,” Flint said, noticing a stark difference between how he felt when addressing a group of humans versus one containing fae. Reading the emotions in the room made it easier for him to get his thoughts across. He knew very well that Mr. Mayor was talking out of his ass, but he had made a mistake as well. However, the fort needed Lea’s Slumber more than ever, and he couldn’t afford to lash out. “After our last meeting, Mr. Mayor, I thought you wouldn’t want to help.”

“Our lives were on the line, Flint!” Mr. Mayor’s voice rose in pitch and volume. “We might not like you for bringing trouble here, but you’re now holding our primary defense against the outside world!”

Flint felt like a little boy being scolded by his elders. He averted his eyes to the floor and had to will Maya back. Her urge to bare her fangs at Mr. Mayor and growl bubbled through the empathic link. Flint knew that he was in the wrong and didn’t want Maya to think otherwise.

“There’s not a lot I can do to excuse my actions and lack of foresight,” Flint sighed. “With all due respect, though, you weren’t exactly hospitable like neighbors should be. I thought you wouldn’t want to lift a finger to help me.”

Mr. Mayor’s face reddened, and he looked like he was about to explode. Flint recognized it as a power play. However, he wasn’t sure how to deal with the matter. He took a deep breath in before exhaling slowly. Flint never got along with humans in positions of authority. His time in the Iron Army had taught him to say “yes, sir” and keep his head down; however, now that he was in a position of authority, things needed to be different.

“Thinking so little of you was my mistake, and I don’t know how to make up for it. The bottom line is, Mr. Mayor, you made it clear that you don’t trust me. Unfortunately, you haven’t given me any reason to trust you either. I understand you’re angry, but I’d rather move forward instead of squabbling over the past. We could discuss joining forces or cooperating—”

“No.” Mr. Mayor’s tone was short and final. “Honestly, I’m not sure whether we can trust you or not. Your judgement has shaken us, and we as a village would rather keep ourselves separate.” Mr. Mayor looked to the others for support. Only Jerome appeared to respond to his words.

“However, we recognize that there is a lack of work and opportunities in Lea’s Slumber. If anyone wants to join you, we won’t stop them.” Miss Lya’s smile didn’t waver. She took Twylip’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I understand you’re looking to trade with us too.”

“I certainly hope you’ll let me make up for my mistake with an exchange of goods and services. We’ll start off with the dealings in your favor.” Flint looked up from the flower and did his best to put on a smile. He felt a hint of pride for handling the situation the way he had. Flint hadn’t shut down in the face of confrontation. Instead, he’d stayed calm and not given into the urge to shut down. “We’re still setting up a source of meat. Our primary requirements are lumber, dairy, and grains. It would be great if we could come to agreements on the matter. Besides Twylip’s alchemical creations, we’re working on other products for barter.”

“I’ll put in a good word—”

“We will also take control of a part of the fort.” Percy stepped forward from behind the huddle, interrupting Miss Lya mid-sentence. Flint hadn’t seen him hiding in the wall’s shadow. “The rear half of the ground floor and the path to the village will be under my—and Mr. Mayor’s—control.”

“I don’t see that happening,” Flint replied. “As soon as I complete my current stage of the life quest, the fort will be exclusively under my control.”

“Ha!” Percy smirked. “Don’t let that life quest go to your head, Flint. You have no ownership over the fort or control over it. I’ve seen your abilities, and they aren’t good enough to command a structure of this size.”

Adam cleared his throat before Flint could bite back with a snarky reply. All eyes darted to him. The big, bearded man nodded at the gate mechanism.

“Is it ready?” Flint asked, ignoring Percy’s reddening face. The man had no issue interrupting others but appeared to hate it when others did the same. While he was willing to stroke Mr. Mayor’s ego, he refused to do the same for Percy.

Adam nodded.

“Just speak, you big bear!” Miss Lya exclaimed. “Everyone knows that the tongue in your mouth works.”

“I’ve got all the parts,” Adam said in a voice much too high-pitched for someone his size. “You just have to move the stone so I can sort it out.”

“You can do your building later,” Percy spat as he spoke. Besides Mr. Mayor, everyone looked at him with annoyed expressions on their faces.

“It will only take a few minutes—”

“What do you know about gate mechanisms, Adam Anvil?” Percy interrupted him once again. “You’re just a smith whose strange contraptions got him kicked out of his father’s workshop.”

Adam grinned. “You’ll find that I’m a tinker now, Percy Greystone.” Even though his voice sounded out of place, Adam’s dimensions and full-faced beard still made for a terrifying visage. Flint doubted anyone would ridicule him for it. “Now stand aside and let us do our jobs.”

41

Adam wasn’t joking when he said it would only take a couple of minutes. Unlike the panel by the external defenses, the stones around the inside gate were broken, letting the elements have their way. What rust didn’t cover them had worn away. The inner mechanisms made little sense to Flint. He knew at a glance that he would’ve never succeeded at repairing it alone. There weren’t just gears and chains but long-toothed bars and locking mechanisms too.

At first, Percy appeared apprehensive about Adam’s claims. He kept shooting him and Flint vile, twisted glares. Then Adam raised his right hand, and metallic wisps flowed down his arms and through his fingertips before forming finger-like tendrils and pulling out the mechanism piece by piece. Sweat beaded on Adam’s brow as he delicately dismantled the damaged parts while keeping the interior intact.

Quite a few of the parts crumbled into or broke into fragments as soon as he placed them on the floor. Then Adam started putting the brand-new pieces back in. The oily sheen on them suggested Twylip had treated the metal using one of her creations. Flint hoped she would provide more soon for the front gate. The mechanism was much too stiff.

The silver tendrils worked even more delicately as they lifted the gears, shafts, and all the other parts off the ground. Percy waved a hand through the ethereal shape, but his interruption didn’t interrupt the essence’s flow. The old builder’s face reddened further. Adam assembled the mechanism within the wall, and the pieces clicked into place one by one. Adam turned the crank, but a clicking sounded within.

Percy chuckled, glancing at the others, but no one joined in. All eyes remained focused on the light surrounding Adam’s left arm. He sighed and pressed a hand against the mechanism. A silver pulse spread from his palm. The energy disappeared into the metal parts before flowing back into Adam’s hand. He pointed at a spot within the panel.

“Can you tighten the stone around the shaft?” Adam asked. “I can’t have the gear slipping.”

“How do you know so much already?” Mr. Mayor asked, furrowing his brow. “Isn’t this a new stone?”

“He’s joined a classer,” Flint said. “That comes with benefits.”

[Shape] solved Adam’s issue. When he turned the crank again, something clicked inside the wall. More gears disappeared into the panel, and then Adam manually slipped chains around their teeth. Altogether, the process took ten minutes. When they tested the crank again, the gates moved.

“The magic of having a tinker,” Flint commented. “Once we secure a source of ore, I’m sure we can supply Lea’s Slumber with Adam’s creations.”

“I’ll build you a workshop twice the size of what Flint can give you, Adam,” Mr. Mayor said. “There is no metal here, and you know for a fact your father won’t allow any ore to leave the village.”

“No,” Adam said.

Mr. Mayor and Percy broke into overlapping tirades, but Flint ignored the pair. Instead, he made blocks out of the surrounding rubble and patched the hole around the panel. A familiar hum tugged at him as soon as he patched the last hole. Much to his surprise, the fort shook too. The stones on the outer surface rippled before everything shifted. Then screams sounded from within the fort.

While everyone stood around in surprise, Maya flickered for a moment before disappearing. Then she appeared again at the fort’s entrance, leaving the surrounding air with a metallic smell. Flint chased after her as soon as he regained his wits and heard Adam’s lumbering footsteps behind him. He caught a glimpse of crackling energy around her limbs before she disappeared into the building.

When he entered the fort, the residents stood with their backs pressed to the external wall. The new residents appeared to have cleared the rubble in the central hallway, creating a clear path to the exit on the other side. However, a new obstacle had appeared in the middle of it. It was a new Heartstone. It rotated while rising out of the floor and into the ceiling above. Dust rained from above, but the surface appeared undamaged. The rainbow runes pulsed, casting their light on the faces of the frightened residents.

Even though Flint would’ve liked to tell the children that everything would be okay, there were no pressing matters. Maya informed him through the empathic link that the stones were shifting on the second floor. As soon as Mr. Mayor and Percy entered the fort, they turned left and sprinted down the corridor. Flint hadn’t explored the structure yet, so he chased after them and found the stairs.

“Barricade, Percy!” Mr. Mayor yelled without looking back. “We can’t let him get the artifact!”

Percy dropped down to his knees, and dark brown energy shot down his arms into the floor. Flint had never seen a [Building] ability like it. The ability shook the stones and sent cracks through them. He roared, channeling again. The stairs crumbled around him, destroying the first flight. The act didn’t hinder Maya. She leapt over Percy, and the sparks dancing around her arced off her body, grazing Percy. The old man grunted, shaking for a second before collapsing.

“Good girl!” Flint yelled after her as she disappeared into the floor above. He ignored Percy’s groaning form and used [Shape] to grow a large block out of the wall. It took a little scrambling, but he managed to get past the shattered stairs.

Several alarmed pairs of eyes awaited Flint. They spared him a moment before returning their attention to the Heartstone. Mr. Mayor stood in front of it, slack-jawed. A large circular table sat in front of the glowing pillar. Runes covered the stone table, and a mound of sand sat atop it.

Mr. Mayor spun on his heel, holding a short metal tube with a curving wooden handle. Flint froze when he recognized the weapon. It was a hand cannon. He’d only ever seen them at the hip of generals, lords, and well-off merchants. Shop windows often featured them too, but they kept the firearms disassembled to discourage theft.

“I’m sorry, Flint,” Mr. Mayor said. “The [City Planning Table] belongs to Lea’s Slumber. As the former champion’s descendent, only I have the right to use it.”

“I thought Miss Lya was also her descendant.”

“She shed her name and heritage when she got married, so I’m the only heir now.”

“This is a part of my life quest, Mr. Mayor,” Flint said. “It’s foolish of you to stand in my way. That table is rightfully mine.”

“Well, once I activate it, only I will have access.” Mr. Mayor walked backward, feeling behind him with his free hand. When Maya growled, he swung the firearm around, pointing at her. “Tell her to stand down. I won’t hesitate, Flint. I promise you.”

An empathic nudge got Maya to relax. He couldn’t afford to let her make a rash movement. The hand cannons were known for their power. Flint was sure the pellet would have little trouble ripping through her.

Meanwhile, Mr. Mayor reached the table and pressed a hand to it. Nothing changed. The runes didn’t light up, and no other stone shifted. Mr. Mayor’s brow furrowed. He glanced over his shoulder at the sand-filled table, and Maya used the opportunity to pad a couple of steps forward.

“Get up here, Percy!” Mr. Mayor yelled.

The old builder appeared a minute later, groaning and gasping for air. He gave Maya a wide berth, walking sideways to the table. “This is better than I expected, Mr. Mayor,” Percy said, sounding like he hadn’t drunk water in days. “A [City Planning Table] can make us more powerful than any classer.”

“Activate it already, Percy. I can’t tell why it’s not working.”

Percy’s brows furrowed as he pressed his hands to the table. Much like with Mr. Mayor, nothing happened. The two men hissed at one another, talking much too low for Flint to hear. Maya didn’t tell him much, so he had no choice but to stand still, hoping Mr. Mayor wouldn’t squeeze the trigger.

While Percy circled the table, Mr. Mayor’s face reddened. He kept his hand cannon raised, but it didn’t point at either of them. Instead, it swayed as he focused more on the old builder than them. Flint communicated his plan to Maya and then made his move.

When Flint stomped his foot and dropped to the floor, Mr. Mayor blindly swung the firearm in his direction and fired. The projectile struck the wall not far above Flint’s head. Fragments of stone pelted the back of his head and neck, stinging his skin. Maya didn’t waste the opportunity. As Flint had requested, she didn’t kill Mr. Mayor. She just knocked him to the ground and pressed her fangs to his neck.

“Drop the weapon, or she’ll rip your throat out,” Flint said, rubbing his neck. It came as no surprise when his fingers came away warm and red.

A puck trotted in and kicked Mr. Mayor’s wrist. Flint didn’t feel sorry for the man when he heard the bone break. The firearm skittered out of Mr. Mayor’s hand and stopped by his feet. Flint snatched up the weapon and pocketed it.

“I’m holding onto this.”

“No one is going to trade with you after this!” Mr. Mayor’s voice shook as he spoke. Maya released him and returned to Flint’s side. She sat next to him, wagging her tail and sniffing at his bloody hand. “I’ll tell everyone you attacked me. No one will believe these fae witnesses of yours!”

“They’ll believe me, though,” Twylip said. Flint hadn’t heard her scale the steps. Adam stood next to her, carrying Miss Lya on his back.

“Shame on you, Gunther.” All fight disappeared from Mr. Mayor’s eyes on hearing her words. “Your time as mayor will be over when I tell the council.”

“No. Please, Miss Lya.” Mr. Mayor’s shoulders drooped as he sat up. All of a sudden, he looked much older than his usual self. “I only wanted what’s best for the village.”

“You wanted what’s best for you,” Miss Lya said. “Everyone is sick of you acting selfishly and then declaring it being in the village’s best interests—”

“He forced me—”

“Shut up, Percy.” Miss Lya’s wrinkled faced had lost its usual loving air. Flint only saw cold anger in her now. “I don’t want your excuses. Just stay at the pub and drink yourself into a stupor, why don’t you? That was your favorite thing to do before Flint got here anyway.”

“Please, Miss Lya.” Mr. Mayor stood up, dusting off his clothes. “The mayorship is all I have left. Don’t take it away from me.”

“You’re going to stop discouraging the young ones. Let them find work under Flint and make something of their lives. I expect you to take back everything you’ve said to keep people from trading with Twylip.”

Mr. Mayor’s beady eyes glanced between Flint and the village elder. He nodded, diverting his gaze to the floor.

“Thank you, Miss Lya,” Flint said. He walked past Mr. Mayor, approaching the [City Planning Table]. The rainbow-colored runes lit up as soon as he touched the ancient machine. The sand mound swirled like a whirlpool before molding itself into the fort and the slope, displaying everything down to the external walls and several feet beyond. “Does this mean I own the fort now?”

“That’s right, Flint,” Miss Lya said. “The Heartstone and [City Planning Table] recognize you as the guardian of the land and the one guiding it.”

Flint’s heart rate picked up as he studied the display. It showed everything. The sand rippled and flowed, marking the moat and displaying the broken trap slab by the outer gate too. Then letters formed in the sand.

Essence Stores full

Renewable Resource Node Schematics available.

“Fix the stairs, Percy,” Miss Lya commanded, poking the old builder’s shin with her cane. “I’d like to get home before lunch.” When she hobbled away, Mr. Mayor and Percy were forced to rip their eyes from the [City Planning Table] and follow. “I need to sort out this business with Gunther before he makes things any worse.”

42

“I’m surprised Miss Lya is willing to let that oaf stay in power,” Flint commented, tearing his eyes away from the table. Adam had just disappeared down the repaired stairs carrying her. Percy had followed, but Jerome was still around. Flint ignored the still wide-eyed young man and let him be for the time being. “If I were in her position, I would’ve let everyone know what he was trying to do.”

“A known enemy is better than an unknown one,” Twylip said. “Don’t worry, though. Miss Lya probably wants to keep him around until she’s groomed someone better to take his place. If she fires him now, one of his bigoted kind will just swoop in and take the position.”

“Does Lea’s Slumber hold elections?” Flint chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“The village is larger than it looks.” A defensive tone found its way into Twylip’s words. “Just because we’re in the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean we aren’t civilized.”

“My mistake.” Flint held his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just a bit shaken by that thing he shot at me. You can feel my heart if you’d like. It’s still pounding.”

Much to Flint’s surprise, it wasn’t Twylip who accepted the offer. It was one of the many children who had gathered following the commotion. The little boy with pointed ears and sun-kissed skin paused in front of Flint and reached for his chest. When the little fae’s arms proved too short, he hopped and got more air than any human child could. A hand patted Flint’s chest. The boy spoke in his native tongue after landing, attracting several laughs from the nearby fae. Then he grinned at Flint’s surprised face before running off.

“I apologize for that,” Winona said. She waved at the children, narrowing her eyes and speaking in fae speech too. They giggled before running off. “The little ones can be rather unabashed. I’m afraid they’re having a bad influence on the human children too.”

“It’s quite alright.” Flint chuckled. His eyes widened when Winona slipped a hand under his shirt and pressed it against his left breast.

“Your heart is pounding,” she commented. Flint liked how her skin felt against his and felt a tingle run down his spine. He had to shake his head to pull himself back to reality. Winona pulled her hand back when Twylip cleared her throat, smiling softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. The fools wouldn’t have gotten away with their antics if any of the inner guards were here.”

“Inner guard?”

“I’ve been talking to a handful of arcanically gifted fae. Agatha pointed out a couple of human combatants you didn’t recruit for the guard either. They’ll watch the path to the village, ensuring everything stays safe and keep order within the Woodson grounds.”

“Are you sure that’s necessary?”

“This just proves that it is. I’m ashamed we weren’t present or prepared, but we will be next time.”

Flint’s fingers wrapped around the hand cannon in his coat’s right pocket. The muzzle still felt hot to the touch. The pellet would’ve killed him instantly if not for the distraction. If the weapons weren’t so expensive, he was sure the Iron Army would supply all of their forces with them. Flint had seen the new human-sized cannons atop the Iron Council’s controlled cities. The fact that someone had miniaturized the contraption had always felt incredible to Flint.

It was unlikely anyone would protest if he held onto the hand cannon as compensation. The volume wasn’t ideal, but he had a tinker and alchemist to turn it into a backup weapon. [Trigger Finger] and all the other [Marksmanship] skills would fill the hole brilliantly. Flint had heard that loading the weapon in battle was a pain, though, so he’d continue to use a crossbow as his primary weapon.

“I was hoping you’d direct the guards and hunting party too,” Flint told Winona. “You probably have more experience in that department than anyone here.”

“Where do you think I was?” Winona asked. “Instead of bringing back meat, the hunters returned with a herd of woolly mountain goats—or part of a herd, at least. Bramble enchanted them, and the archer girl took down a Gator Teeth cat stalking them. I wish they followed your orders, but I can’t complain about the results.”

Flint laughed. “We can’t, can we? They might have solved quite a few of our issues in one fell swoop. We’ll have a steady supply of wool, meat, and dairy going forward.”

“Might be worth talking to Seven about that. I think she’d prefer to use them just for meat and wool for the time being. We don’t have room to rear a flock for consumption.”

“You’re right.” Flint sighed. “I don’t know the first thing about raising livestock. By the Heartstone, I barely know how to use this table.” He tapped the stone structure in front of him. The slope melted away at his touch. The shapeless sand shifted, making the fort and its gardens’ display grow. “It says I have renewable resources schematics, but I don’t know where to start.”

“Our order had one of these,” Winona commented. “Before you ask, I’ve only seen them controlled from afar. They didn’t teach the warrior mages how to control them. The runes should speak to you, though.”

Flint glanced at Twylip, but the shorter woman only shrugged. Instead, she shot Flint a sly smile, her eyes dancing between him and Winona. He ignored her and pressed his hands against the table once more. The runes brightened, humming in response to his touch.

“Show me the schematics,” Flint said.

The sand melted into a mound once more before flattening itself to appear seamless with the table’s stone edges. Then a variety of shapes grew out of it. Children and adults alike had gathered around the table, making Flint wish there were more walls on the second floor. He didn’t want anyone outside of the council influencing his decision.

Trees, shrubs, herbs, stones, and a multitude of shapes Flint didn’t recognize appeared out of the sand. A shiver ran down Flint’s spine as he took in the options. Symbols accompanied the stones, and he recognized none of them straight away. Words appeared in the sand when he touched it.

Iron Node

When Flint questioned the term “node” and its context, the sand expanded with an explanation.

Nodes feed on the Woodson Fort’s stored essence to grow and restore the respective metal or mineral.

Then a follow-up appeared to answer Flint’s other query.

The Woodson Fort passively feeds on its residents’ essence to fuel its stores. When friend or foe dies within the walls, they bolster the reserves too.

A segmented bar appeared, and Flint assumed it displayed the fort’s current essence stores.

“That looks like a lot,” Winona commented. “What are you going for first?”

“Metal,” Flint answered. “I’d like to give Adam all the material he needs to continue smithing and tinkering.”

“Don’t just go for iron then.” Winona pointed at a stone marked with three interconnecting rings. “Aetherite is hard to work with it and looks more like stone than metal. However, it stores, conducts, and absorbs essence well. It won’t just benefit the fae but humans who use their [Mind Node] too.”

“Does that mean it could bolster the fort’s essence absorption abilities?”

Winona shrugged. “Alais might be more capable of answering that question. Theoretically, it shouldn’t. However, that doesn’t mean the Aetherite can’t bolster its own growth using ambient essence.”

Flint nodded and selected the two nodes. The grounds’ outline reappeared, and the two stones floated above the rest of the sand as if waiting to be placed. When Flint willed it, the sand sculpture grew to expand the fort’s interior.

Percy hadn’t yet repaired the far corner of the ground floor diagonally opposite the stairs to the basement. Flint intended to turn it into Adam’s workshop with a smelter, forge, and ample room for tinkering. As he enlarged the ground floor further, the sand shifted outside of it, showing the hollow basement below it. The tunnels connecting the area to the room with Lea’s carving had long collapsed, so he didn’t hesitate when placing nodes. Flint left enough distance between them so any fae helping harvest Aetherite could keep away from the iron.

The bar displaying the current essence stores shrunk by three quarters. Flint was reaching for another metal when Twylip grabbed his hand. “You might have a couple of miners. However, Adam is your only blacksmith until someone claims the [Smithing] stones. I’d advise branching out.”

“What do you suggest then?” Flint asked.

Twylip pointed at a sand square that showed a variety of mushrooms. “It’s hard to tell without colors, but the shapes suggest there are hen of the woods, ignis, and aeser caps among them. If that’s a wild mushroom farm, it won’t just give us a decent meat substitute but valuable medicinal and alchemical ingredients.”

“Hen of the woods?” Flint’s eyes narrowed as he tried to recall the familiar name.

“It’s a monstrous, layered mushroom that some claim tastes like chicken,” Twylip replied. “It grows quickly and should satisfy the masses until we get a reliable meat source.”

“It’s perfect,” Winona said. “Quite a lot of fae don’t eat meat.”

Flint nodded and focused on the indicated square.

Wild Mushroom Farm

Mushroom farms can grow anywhere with shade and dampness. It feeds on essence to multiply the growth of favored mushrooms.

It took a moment of scanning for Flint to find the perfect area for it. The flowing sand highlighted streams of sand deep under the fort. It sat on the far opposite end of where Flint had placed the nodes, on the side facing the village. The stairs Flint used to enter the basement sat two levels above it. Now that he enlarged the sand sculpture, he noticed the way down had disappeared. Percy must’ve covered it up after failing to find the artifact. It would take some work to build an access route, but the location appeared perfect.

As Flint studied the area, more details propped up. He found the start of the water supply and sewer systems. “The nodes and the essence are just a bonus,” he said. “The real prizes are the information and ability to study the fort’s interior.”

Neither of the two women spoke up. Instead, they watched as Flint studied the waterways connected to the stream. His scanning soon revealed where all the streams and rivers from Lea’s Slumber entered the structure. Sediment filled the water supply’s feeding point, and the sewer system was much worse. Flint placed the mushroom farm between the two points. Then, using the final sliver of the essence, he placed an ignis stone near the stream’s entrance.

“Smart!” Twylip exclaimed. “The heat and humidity should serve the mushroom farm well.”

“I used to steal from a mushroom farm when I lived on the streets. Sometimes other packs beat mine to the butcher and bakery bins. I’m not proud of it, but when starvation became a danger, thievery was the only option.” Flint chuckled. “I guess I picked up a couple of tidbits along the way.”

Winona placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be honest,” she said. “I had my doubts regarding whether you had it in you to run this place. I think you might just have a chance.”

Even though Winona’s tone and smirk suggested she was teasing, Flint had doubts regarding his ability to lead. Every decision came with doubts regarding whether they were the correct ones or not. The [City Planning Table] would prove essential to his success.

43

Objective III Complete!

The Heartstone grants you two ability upgrade stones.

Use them however you feel fit.

You have awakened the Sleeping Fort! Saving the Savior has progressed to the next stage.

[Objective I]

Repair the Woodson Fort’s water supply, enabling irrigation and close proximity to a fresh source for every resident.

Reward: Two third-tier skill stones with intermediate knowledge of their use.

[Objective II]

Repair the Woodson Fort’s sanitation network, ensuring none of the residents fall to disease or sickness.

Reward: Two third-tier skill stones with intermediate knowledge of their use.

[Objective III]

Invest in the Woodson Fort’s craftsmen to create three types of product worthy of trade with your neighbors.

Reward: One skill stone upgrade

Completion Reward: The Heartstone’s insight into the next Champion’s identity.

The skill stones and upgrades were all well and good, but the completion reward… It was the completion rewards that excited Flint the most. He had analyzed the wording several times and he theorized that the Heartstone didn’t know the identity of the Champion either. Scholars had poured over how the ancient pillars functioned for centuries—or so he’d heard—but apparently no one had cracked the stone’s magic yet. Some claimed its existence transcended time and it could see the many possible futures. Others believed it was a clueless living entity as ignorant of the future as the intelligent races.

Either way, any clue would help Flint get to his goal sooner. As soon as he identified the Champion, the child or teenager could be trained with appropriate skill stones and handed the sword. He wanted them prepared for the awakening. Anyone who hadn’t sensed the pulse from Lea’s artifact would know about the existence of the Champion, and then life would get more complicated.

When Flint looked over the youngsters running around and working, he questioned the Heartstone further. If the Champion appeared from the rescued slaves and not the village, it could have alarming implications.

One possibility suggested that the stone pillars were orchestrating the events pushing Flint and the traitorous Colonel Smith to Lea’s Slumber where the sword lay. Initially, he thought the Heartstone had given him the life quest when it had so that he didn’t sign on for another term and had other options. Now, he wondered whether it wanted to plant an idea in Colonel Smith’s head too. Then the Heartstone sent Verdant lions to herd him and the slavers toward Lea’s Slumber.

But the other possibility felt more likely to Flint—there were no fates or destinies, and the Champion of Equilibrium wasn’t born for the title. Instead, the disk housed multiple candidates for the future role. It was up to Flint to create an environment suitable for such a person to rise from among them. Perhaps it was a matter of fulfilling criteria and the reward involved specifications of said requirements.

All the assigned tasks appeared achievable in a reasonable time frame. However, Flint couldn’t start on all of them straight away. Instead, he needed to focus on helping the Woodson Fort’s new citizens settle in.

Before the fort filled with people, Flint and Adam could have hammered out most of the smaller jobs in a matter of days. However, that was no longer an option. They needed to attend to the children and their many questions, help people with the countless problems that appeared out of nowhere, and train the new defenders for war.

The following days became a blur and passed without major incident. Flint kept the upgrade stones in his pocket while trying to make up his mind regarding how to use them. Unless push came to shove, Flint hoped to rank [Alteration] first and decide after getting the next ability.

No amount of reprimand discouraged the children from climbing onto the [City Planning Table] and playing with the sand, so Flint started off by cordoning off a large section of the second floor for his workspace and future living quarters. He then tasked Ed and the new builders with repairing the staircase to the third floor, fixing the walls, and dividing the space into rooms and dormitories.

The ground floor felt more suitable for storage and workshops, so Flint declared nobody would use it as their permanent living quarters. It would house Adam’s and Twylip’s individual workspaces. He planned for the two to sit on opposite ends of the ground floor and then placed the kitchens next to the apothecary. Besides cooking daily meals, he hoped the space would be used for processing raw ingredients, pickling, smoking, fermenting, and storage.

The final bit of space between the kitchens and the central hallway that connected Lea’s Slumber to the slope would serve as their dining space. Flint hoped one of the new builders would unlock [Shape] soon. He planned on tasking them with making tables and benches out of the stone.

An ample empty space remained between Adam’s workspace and the central hall. Flint intended to turn it into a workspace for the carpenter and fletcher. However, until they got a steady source of lumber, there was no point wasting time and energy on it.

The second floor would function as a dormitory for the children and teenagers, with boys and girls living on opposite sides of the floor. Flint prepared offices and living quarters for all the fae teachers, babysitters, and Winona around the Heartstone and his future quarters. The rest of the floor turned into classrooms, training, and games areas. He strategically placed washrooms too, but they wouldn’t be functional until he solved the running water and sanitation problems.

Finally, the third floor became living quarters for everyone else. Erecting walls took almost no effort, and he prepared more rooms than necessary. None of them were furnished, however, and not everyone appeared willing to move into them.

After planning out the layout and making minor fixes, Flint started on the ground floor. Adam’s workshop took priority. First, he built stairs down to the caverns containing the nodes. Adam and the young men willing to place [Mining] in their [Power Node] started on extracting ore while Flint set up the workshop. He and Adam had worked out a layout for all the necessary structures, and it didn’t take much time at all.

Installing the old forge equipment took the longest, and throwing old pieces away proved to be a delicate matter. Adam had sentimental attachments to many of the pieces involved. Once complete, the tinkering smith swore a blood oath too. Flint had forgotten about it, and due to insecurities regarding his voice, Adam hadn’t pushed the matter. Now that the cat was out of the bag, it was no longer a big deal.

Before starting on Twylip’s workspace, Flint sorted out the kitchens first. Thanks to [Herbalism], a couple of workers with [Farming], and dryad magic, the plants were growing at an almost alarming rate. The settlement already had enough fruit and vegetables to feed everyone in the fort, and soon they’d need to start preserving the seasonal vegetables before the weather changed. It proved an excellent training exercise for the new builders and Ed.

The two [Earth Molding] users made kitchenware out of stone. The rest assembled wood-burning ovens, countertops, and fire pits using blocks Flint shaped. A couple of the fae joined in too, using their water magic to wash and polish the stone into smooth surfaces.

Almost a week passed, and Flint was nearly done with Twylip’s workshop when he got dire enough news to interrupt his work. They were building a cart-sized stone table for Twylip to experiment with alchemical materials when Jerome appeared red-faced and struggling to catch his breath. After the event with Mr. Mayor, he and a half-dozen citizens of Lea’s Slumber had moved to the fort.

While Miss Lya hadn’t divulged Percy and Mr. Mayor’s actions, Jerome had. Apparently, people weren’t just disgusted with him, but tales of Adam’s new skill stones had stirred slumbering ambitions. Flint had given them jobs after having them swear the standard oath. However, he didn’t grant them skill stones straight away like the recently freed slaves. Flint believed they’d have to earn them. Young Jerome had joined the watch and was doing a surprisingly good job of fitting in.

“Horsemen, Mr. Flint!” Jerome exclaimed, breathing heavily. “Iron.” He broke into a coughing fit and had to use the neighboring wall for support.

Flint foresaw where he was going with the message and pulled on his coat straight away. He still hadn’t sorted out a new crossbow, but the hand cannon hung from a holster at his belt. Adam and Twylip had worked together to put together pouches full of powder and pellets. They sat in his coat’s inside pocket. “Breathe, Jerome. What happened?”

“Your dogs returned from their hunt barking their heads off.” Jerome continued after taking a moment to regain his composure. Flint already had his boots on and was heading toward the building’s exit. Jerome had to jog after him to keep up. “One of the pucks ran down to get a closer look. He didn’t get a count, but the horsemen all carry the Iron Army’s flag.”

“Let’s just hope it’s not one of Colonel Smith’s men,” Ed commented, chasing after him.

“You and me both, Ed.”

44

Flint heard Bjorn’s howling, and the bloodhounds barks long before he reached the wall. They sounded excited and worried simultaneously. Due to his focus on the fort, Flint hadn’t made much progress with the new dogs. They appeared to follow Maya and Bjorn but still stayed an arm’s length from Flint. They were more responsive to his empathic pushes and pulls, though, and that pleased him.

Some progress is better than no progress.

The trio was crossing the lower Heartstone when Maya came running uphill to meet him. She didn’t greet him with her ears flat and tail wagging like usual. Instead, Maya appeared alert and tense. When Flint offered a head scratch, though, she didn’t reject it. Instead, she used the opportunity to transmit an image to Flint. Unlike the previous information exchanges, the process no longer hurt as long as he kept his eyes closed.

Due to Maya’s height, she registered the horses more than the riders, but there was no doubt about them being from the Iron Army. Sunlight danced off their armor, making it look like they were mages wielding its power. Flags displaying the anvil and hammer fluttered over their heads too. The decorations on them suggested the approaching company consisted of powerful soldiers. Perhaps high-ranking individuals too.

“This isn’t good,” Flint muttered, picking up the pace.

Ed had little trouble keeping up with Flint, but Jerome groaned. The young man carried a fair bit of pudge on his face and around his belly. He’d need to shape up soon if he intended to continue amongst the guard. He had [Two-Handed Weaponry] in his [Power Node], but his clumsiness concerned Flint. If a fight broke out, he worried Jerome would be amongst the first to die.

War wasn’t fair, though. A stray arrow or a freak accident during battle could claim the lives of people as dedicated as Ed or powerful as Winona. Flint strongly believed it was one such accident, accompanied by opponents underestimating him, that had helped him and Maya prevail so far.

If not for Maya’s speed, stealth, and intelligence, Winona and her party would’ve defeated Flint. Luck and surprise had played a significant role in his victory against Colonel Smith and the Vikings. Now that their numbers were increasing, such methods were no longer reliable. Flint had people to protect and watch over. He wasn’t naïve enough to think future altercations would end without casualties, but he hoped to minimize them as much as possible.

The fort’s entrance had transformed over the last week. When Ed wasn’t with Flint, he’d been visiting the front gate with the new builders. The fort’s carts stood lined up against one of the cliff sides, and stone stables sat opposite it. Two brownies and a teenage girl had taken over their care, with Seven occasionally visiting them for guidance. The trio would take the horses down to the Verdant Plains’ edge for grazing and exercise regularly. Today, they stood nervously stroking the beasts they cared for.

Flint was pleased to find the other buildings in reasonably good shape too. As instructed, Ed had maintained the twisting roads. It made transporting food to the watch a chore but would be for the best if the outer walls ever fell. The tanner and her apprentice had set up shop in the area too. It made sense to skin and butcher beasts near the walls instead of dragging corpses all the way up to the fort.

Bjorn stopped his yapping when he saw Flint. Unlike Maya, he greeted Flint with his tail wagging. The snow dog wasn’t pleased with a simple head scratch, though. Flint had to give him a proper cuddle before moving on. The bloodhounds continued their baying and barking despite an empathic push to silence them.

“Quick!” Winona yelled from atop the wall. “They’re coming up the slope.”

Maya bounded after Flint as he ran up the stairs. Winona had her hood up, hiding her ears. A hand wave from her was enough to send all the pucks and brownies to the ground level. Only humans, changelings, and one other high fae remained atop the wall.

“Marksmen, nock your weapons,” Winona commanded. She glanced at the guards at ground level. “Weapons and spells at the ready. We don’t know how this is going to turn out, but it’s for the best if we stay prepared.”

Several “ayes” echoed through the guards. They appeared nervous but surer with their weapons than they’d been earlier in the week. Flint had heard the more experienced fighters—human and fae—had taken it upon themselves to train the others. Woodson Fort’s soldiers still appeared wary of racial differences but had made more progress than the people above.

When Jerome didn’t follow them up the stairs, Flint assumed the cowardly young man had run off to hide somewhere. Flint saw him in a more positive light when he returned carrying a crossbow. It was bulkier than what Flint used, and instead of a crank, had a simple lever for pulling the string back.

“Adam said he didn’t have the right materials to fix your old one, but we got this as a temporary replacement from the village,” Jerome said. “It isn’t double-stacked like your last one but should pack more power and has greater range.”

“Thanks, Jerome.” Flint tested the wooden handle, drawing the string. Ed placed a quiver stuffed with bolts at his feet, and Flint loaded it. “It will do. Get in position now.”

The horsemen were halfway up the slope already. Maya’s image was accurate. The decorated and polished armor, the flags, and the gorgeous mounts suggested the riders weren’t people to be trifled with.

“Are those the Iron Inquisitors?” Ed asked, tightening his grip on the short spear.

“I wish I could tell you they weren’t,” Flint whispered. He loaded the crossbow and propped it up against the ramparts. He didn’t think it smart to address the approaching force with a weapon in hand. Flint glanced at Winona’s shadow-covered limbs. “I thought you were a moon mage.”

“I will be once the sun has disappeared over the disk’s edge and the moon is in the sky,” she replied. “My spells bend the shadows to my will during daytime.”

The horsemen slowed when Flint waved at them. They didn’t return the gesture, but the leading pair—a man and a woman—removed their helmets. He didn’t recognize either of them. It was for the best. The Building Division’s higher-ups claimed nothing good ever came of talking to an inquisitor, let alone befriending one. They were chosen by the Iron Church or Council and were an extension of their will.

When the leading woman raised a fist, the other horsemen slowed to a stop. She and her companion continued their ascent up the slope at a steady gallop. A long staff sat slung across her back. The male rider carried a long kite shield and mace with spiked phalanges. They wore the Iron Army’s signature swords on their belts too. It was a detail Colonel Smith had failed to enforce on the Vikings.

Despite [Keen Eye]’s ocular enhancements, Flint struggled to study the horsemen. The sunlight reflecting off their polished armor was much too bright. Flint felt his hand itching for a weapon’s security as he saw the details on the approaching pair’s armor. Both of them were decorated and held at least a colonel’s rank.

A soothing embrace through empathic touch helped him fight the urge. Flint almost burst out laughing when he realized Maya was pushing calming emotions on him the same way he’d done to her and Bjorn before. So, when the inquisitors finally arrived at the gate, he was ready for them.

“Ho, there!” the woman called. “I’m Inquisitor Bluelake of the Iron Council. This is Inquisitor Stark. We’d like to meet with whoever is in charge here.”

“I’m Flint Woodson, a former private of the Building Division and now the Woodson Fort’s master.” If not for Maya’s reassurance, Flint was sure a tremor would’ve found its way into his voice. “What brings the inquisitors to this far corner of the Verdant Plains?”

“Flint Woodson?” Bluelake and Stark glanced at one another. “We’ve heard rumors of you and your life quest. I wasn’t told this is where it brought you.” The stiffness in her shoulders melted away. Flint considered it odd, though. Nothing escaped the inquisitors. “Lord Ironheart put together a company of elite builders a little over a month ago. Your former commanding officers—Lord Ironheart’s son and Colonel Smith—were due to deliver them to the Evergreen Fort close to three weeks ago. They never arrived at their destination.”

Bluelake paused, looking at Flint expectantly, but he kept silent. She likely had her suspicions, and he wanted to hear her conclusions first.

“Their tracks led us from a hidden Viking encampment in the north and through Verdant lion territory. We lost their trail a couple of weeks ago until we spotted the signs of an encampment at the bottom of this pass. We were hoping you could enlighten us as to where they are.”

“Below you,” Flint answered.

“What?” Bluelake and Stark asked in unison, furrowing their eyebrows.

“Colonel Smith and Captain Ironheart are buried at the bottom of this slope where your companions are waiting. It’s been a little over a week since they died, so if you dig, you might still be able to recognize their corpses. There should be several Viking remains there too.”

Bluelake’s gauntleted right hand curled into a fist. “Were you the ones who killed them?”

“Colonel Smith and Captain Ironheart? Yes. The Vikings and other soldiers? No. My friends helped in that department. Initially, I was planning on turning them away. However, when I saw they had seven wagons worth of people and two dozen children with slave brands on their chests, I couldn’t leave them be.”

“That’s a lie!” Stark exclaimed. “Colonel Smith was a decorated soldier, and Captain Ironheart is the first son of one of the most wealthy and powerful men on the disk. They have no need for alliances with slavers.”

“Show them, Ed,” Flint said.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ed slipped off his leather cuirass and hopped on the ramparts. The two inquisitors gasped when he showed them the brand. “I was a part of the elite building company Lord Ironheart assembled,” Ed said. “Colonel Smith sold the equipment, stones, and materials to the Vikings. All the soldiers who refused to follow Colonel Smith’s orders were executed. My brothers struggled against the brand and were put down as well.”

“I’m having a hard time believing this,” Bluelake said.

“Is the brand not enough?” Flint asked.

“You could’ve placed the mark on him and then compelled the lad to lie to us,” Stark snarled. “No commanding officer of the Iron Army would ever join the Vikings or trade in slaves! Especially not Colonel Smith. I served with the man, and he had honor.”

“The fae girl hiding her ears makes me doubt you as well,” Bluelake commented. “I demand you open the gates and let us in. We need to conduct a thorough investigation to verify your claims.”

“I’m afraid that’s not happening,” Flint replied. He waved at the other human men on the wall. All of them climbed onto the ramparts and showed their brands. Jerome foolishly did the same even though it wasn’t asked of him. “If you need further confirmation, you can dig up the graves at the bottom of the hill.”

“That’s not good enough!” Stark barked. “Not when you have one of the Wyld by your side! I know a high fae when I see one.”

“That’s because your old friend, Colonel Smith, didn’t just have human merchandise but fae too. I’ve liberated them, and they’re residents of my land now—”

“You have no land! Everything on this side of the border belongs to the Iron Disk! Just because you’re too far for the tax collectors to visit doesn’t make this a sovereign land!” Bluelake maintained a calm tone, unlike her male companion. “I won’t ask again. Let us in!”

“No,” Flint answered, his right hand curled around the crossbow’s stirrup. “Woodson Fort sides neither with the Wyld nor the Iron Army. The latter abandoned these lands when they pulled their defensive force away, abandoning Lea’s Slumber. We’re an independent existence now and refuse to take part in this war.”

“That’s treason,” Bluelake said. She pulled the staff off her back and raised it at Flint. “If you won’t open this gate willingly, I have no choice but to use force.”

As the pair retreated downhill, Stark drew a large iron-banded horn from under his cloak and blew into it. The horsemen below initiated their charge, and a myriad of lights flashed as dozens of abilities activated.

45

While Flint had worked on improving the quality of life around the fort and making it habitable for the new residents, Winona had focused her attention on the inner and outer guard. Following her instructions, Flint had placed multiple totems throughout Woodson territory. He had placed two of each at the top of the slope. The placements didn’t just cover the insides, bolstering the residents, but all of the gardens too. Flint believed it would reinforce their food supply by helping the plants and goats grow.

Another pair sat by the moat to cover the residents living there, and the final stood between the guards’ quarters. Fortunately, Flint had recharged them not long ago. They still glowed with their full might.

“Casters and marksmen, on the wall now!” Winona exclaimed. “Brace for arcane barrage!”

Fireballs, icicles, and blasts of essence flew from the horsemen into or over the walls. They left marks on the stone but didn’t cause tremors like the hill giant’s friendly stone throw. Everyone ducked, getting away unscathed from the first attack.

Flint couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d made a mistake by not cooperating with them. He didn’t trust the Iron Army not to wrestle him for control of the fort or turn on him for housing fae. They didn’t come across as a trustworthy lot with their demands, and Stark had a predominantly negative aura about him. Flint didn’t want to risk the safety of the fae residents to appease a likely hostile force.

“Wyld casters, raise a wall!”

Emerald light illuminated the wall. It flowed down the brownies’ arms and out of their hands. Ethereal roots shot into the ground in front of the wall, forming a straight line. The soil and stone shook around the points of impact. Then the ground audibly cracked. Thick, thorny vines exploded from the new openings. They spread across the ground, coiling around each other before growing upwards in a thick, leafless hedge.

Horses bucked and neighed as they failed to stop in time, thorns ripping into their flesh. Red added more color to the previously bright green and brown vines. Several riders found themselves dismounted as their mounts collapsed or got tangled. A couple of screams joined the horses’ cries not long after. Arrows—Wyld and regular—fired in unison, pelting the armored individuals. Much to Flint’s surprise, the former left dents despite iron’s power to neutralize fae magic. Flint guessed the essence had given the projectiles physical form and propelled them. The arrows themselves didn’t have any magic left in them.

The Iron Inquisitors started their counterattack not long after. Once enough of them had retreated from the bramble wall, Bluelake raised her staff. The sapphire atop it released a blinding light before cyan flames burst forth, bathing the vines in their light. The summoned flora didn’t catch fire. Instead, frost coated it, and ice crystals grew from them. One of the other horsemen shaped a large cone out of stone and launched it at the vines. The projectile ripped through, shattering a monstrous hole in the wall.

Flint breathed in and out deeply, not letting himself get distracted by the several dozen things going on. He fired the crossbow, aiming for an approaching inquisitor’s knee. He hoped to make them retreat. If they killed all the inquisitors, more would follow with bigger attacking forces. However, if they repelled the attackers, they would likely leave them alone and focus on the war. Moving an army across the Verdant Plains with supplies for a siege would cost too much money and manpower. If they managed to tire the attackers out or force them to retreat, they could still parley. But the second someone important died, all diplomacy would go out of the window.

The bolt glanced off his target’s iron grieves, leaving a deep groove in the metal. “Try to keep the attacks non-fatal, Winona. I’d rather not have Bluelake or Stark die.”

Winona nodded and thrust her arms forward. Another stream of cyan flame shot toward them, and Flint doubted ducking would be enough to avoid damage. The shadows wrapped around Winona’s arms uncoiled and writhed like cuttlefish tentacles. Flint had to distance himself from her to get away from the dropping temperatures. The shadows formed a large shield in front of the walls, blocking the attack.

Watching her magical prowess up close, Flint wondered for a moment how he had survived fighting against her. Either she wasn’t in top form, or Maya was more effective than he initially assumed. Another barrage on the wall forced him to duck for cover and snapped him back to reality.

Flint loaded the crossbow and fired another bolt. Unfortunately, without an ability to enhance his projectiles, the attacks didn’t do much good. Instead of trying [Focused Shot], Flint ran down the stairs to where the melee fighters patiently waited.

“Who’s the fastest among you?” He asked. One of the female pucks stepped forward. “Run up to the fort. Tell every adult with fighting capabilities to get down here.” The puck nodded and took off straight away. “Get Twylip to send down any offensive alchemical concoctions too!”

The puck didn’t glance back or acknowledge the request; Flint could only hope she had heard him.

“This isn’t working!” Winona yelled from atop the wall. “Their armor is too strong for non-lethal attacks. We need to get out there.”

Flint clenched his jaw. It was too high a risk, but he trusted Winona’s decision. “How long can you hold? We need Adam’s strength—”

“We don’t have that much time! The last projectile cracked the walls. I don’t know how many more we can take! The melee attackers should be fine as long as we can cover them.” Winona’s fear radiated through the empathic link. “We’ll focus on repelling them and pull back if things get too hairy.”

“Fine. Force them to take cover or slow!” Flint sprinted to the gate panel and slid it open. “Ready up,” he told the melee fighters. Flint’s heart rate picked up when he saw the dogs rearing to go. A shiver ran down his spine as the inevitability of the situation caught up to him. Maya, Bjorn, and the hounds were going to head into danger, and there was little he could do about it. As he worked the mechanism, opening the gates, Flint begged them to stay safe through the empathic link. Maya and Bjorn responded, but the hounds were much too anxious.

“Charge!” Winona yelled as soon as the gates were open, and the melee attackers took off at full speed.

A pair of brownies appeared out of the stables, riding a couple of goats as large as Bjorn. Their skinny green legs disappeared into the wool, making it look like they were one. They trotted out after the guards, casting their magic on the move. Wyldarrows formed, floating over their shoulders, and a green aura surrounded the mounts. Flint left the gates open and sprinted up the stairs. He reloaded the crossbow and rested it against ramparts, taking aim.

It pained Flint to hurt the horses, but when he spotted Bjorn and the hounds heading toward a half-dozen riders in a wedge formation, he knew they were in danger. The snow dog’s new bulk and frost armor would likely hold up against a couple of attacks, but Flint refused to take risks against their glowing weapons. So, he channeled [Marked Shot] and fired. The bolt pierced the lead horse’s flank, and all the dogs—including Maya—made a beeline toward them. Bjorn was the closest and got there first. He barreled into the beast, knocking the rider off. The blue aura around him thickened as red intermingled with the aura, and Flint spotted hints of frost on the iron armor.

Much to his disappointment, [Marking Shot]’s red light flowed into Bjorn and only him. Maya stopped short and barked. Bjorn leapt backward, moving much farther than one would expect for someone his size. He landed in front of the hounds, and a yap was enough to make them stop. Flint held his breath when the unhorsed man and his companions leveled their weapons at them. Flint fired another [Marking Shot], and it struck one of the riders in the chest.

The bolt failed to penetrate the armor. However, the ability’s red light enveloped the man. One of the wolfhounds tried running toward the man, but Bjorn body-blocked her. Flint realized soon figured out why. A stream of blue flame—frost fire Flint guessed—shot toward them.

“No!” He yelled, abandoning his plans of avoiding fatal attacks. Flint scrambled to reload the crossbow and aimed it at the inquisitor.

Then the sphere of blue light around Bjorn brightened, stopping the attacking essence in its tracks. The aura’s storm-like spinning dispersed the frost fire before it could damage any of the hounds.

Instead of admiring Bjorn’s power, Flint prepared [Focused Shot]. The formation of five had used the opportunity to dismount and close in on the dogs together. While Bjorn looked like he could survive a blow or two, Flint doubted the same could be said for the wolfhounds. They were a bigger threat to the dogs than the frost fire.

Before Flint could fire, Maya appeared between the approaching soldiers and Bjorn in a flash of light. Lightning crackled around her snout, paws, and spine. She fell into a pouncing stance, and the soldiers took it as an invitation to charge. Flint knew what was coming. He recalled the movement from when he guided his beloved sheepdog to a new stage of existence.

The narrow slope’s high walls amplified her bark’s volume. It indeed sounded like thunder. The rippling air threw two of the approaching soldiers off their feet. The remaining three clutched at their helmets, trying to cover their ears. Maya lunged forward, landing on the man surrounded by [Marking Shot]’s crimson light. He writhed as lightning arced off her fur and licked at his armor. Maya bit down on the man’s bicep—the only bit of him not covered by plate armor—and the crimson light flowed into her.

Stark and the remaining soldiers recovered from the sonic attack alarmingly fast and charged at Maya with their weapons raised. Flint fired a bolt at the man and got his horse in the neck. The beast fell, taking its rider with it, but the remaining soldiers continued their advance. Flint fumbled with the replacement crossbow’s aged mechanism, praying to the Heartstone that Maya would get away. Fortunately, the melee attackers met the horsemen before they reached the dogs.

The goat-riding brownies were the first to meet the advance. Their summoned Wyldarrows had grown into spears. The pint-sized green fae didn’t carry the weapon in their hands but let it float next to them. They rushed past the riders, ripping through their legs or the horse’s flanks. Screams of pain filled the slope, and blood painted the light-brown stone crimson.

Bluelake sent a stream of frost fire at the approaching force. The goats pranced out of the way, but one of the young lads following on foot didn’t. The blue flames consumed him, and Flint’s stomach sank when no scream followed. When the cyan light dispersed, frost and patches of ice covered the boy. The attack hadn’t ceased his forward momentum, and he fell forwards before shattering into giant chunks.

“I need to get down there,” Winona said. “That woman is going to slaughter them—”

Confused by her sudden pause, Flint followed her eyes to the grass beyond the slope. They’d been so focused on the battle they had missed the towering figures moving through the grass. A familiar antler-crowned giant waved at Flint, smiling warmly before whooping. The surrounding figures echoed the sound before breaking into a charge.

“What the hell are the hill giants doing here?” Flint asked, wide-eyed.

“It must be all the magic!” Winona exclaimed. “They must’ve sensed the attacks and came to help us!”

She wasn’t wrong. A cheer sounded from the ranged and ground troops when a dozen club-wielding giants sprinted up the slope into the horsemen. They appeared from the blind spots on either side of it. When one of their swinging weapons caught a rider, the sound of crunching metal and breaking bones reached Flint’s ears. The Woodson soldiers who had faltered after seeing frost fire’s effects continued their charge with renewed vigor.

The inquisitors found themselves caught between two threats and chose to focus on the more intimidating hill giants. The mounted soldiers charged downhill, leaving their unhorsed companions behind. The soldiers tried to hold their own but were soon overrun by Bjorn and the others.

46

Initially, Flint wanted to keep enemy casualties to a minimum. But after Bluelake killed one of the young guards, everyone, including Winona, gave up on restraint. Instead, they took advantage of the inquisitor’s confusion and maimed anyone who got in their way. The fight had moved out of Flint’s weapon’s range, and he held his breath, watching the mass of armored soldiers thinning.

“You should order a retreat,” Flint told Winona when Stark sounded his horn.

“The soldiers need this victory,” she replied. “It will give them valuable experience and confidence.”

“I don’t know how things were while you served the Wyld, Winona, but things are different here. I won’t risk our defensive force chasing after a superior enemy. If not for the giants, we’d have lost more than just one man.”

Winona stepped closer to Flint and lowered her voice before speaking. “I know what I’m doing, Flint,” she said. “We’ve got the giants on our side, and this fight is good as won.”

“I just have a bad feeling,” Flint replied. He pointed beyond the hill giants at the antlered individual behind them. “We can’t see its face, but I saw a smile. No. I sensed it. There’s something very wrong here.”

“They’re here to help us, Flint!” Winona exclaimed. “My people have dealt with them before! The violent essence use must’ve alarmed them.”

“Why would they help us, though, Winona? Did you offer them any tribute beyond the bodies buried at the bottom of the hill? This doesn’t feel right.”

Winona’s brows furrowed as she glanced between the attacking force and Flint. She appeared torn, unsure whether to pull back and show mercy or slaughter the Iron Army’s shoulders. Flint guessed she had lost several friends and allies to people wearing the same armor. Now, she struggled to let go when victory was at hand.

Flint held his breath as the goat riders got more ruthless with their attacks. They danced around the much larger horses, slipping between the giants’ legs and only darting forward to take out their targets. It especially concerned Flint that Maya, Bjorn, and the hounds were close behind them. They were much too far away for Flint to communicate through the empathic link. So, he raised his thumb and index finger to his mouth and whistled.

On hearing the call, Maya skidded to a stop straight away. She looked up the slope at Flint, barked once, and then trotted uphill. Bjorn hesitated for a moment, looking between the ongoing battle and her before trailing behind her. Much to Flint’s annoyance, only one of the hounds followed.

“What are you doing?” Winona hissed.

“The dogs are an extension of me,” he answered. “I’m not risking them for some stupid vendetta. If you can keep the fight within my empathic sense’s range, I’ll let them stay in the battle.”

“Fine,” Winona said through clenched teeth. “You’re the lord of these lands.” She turned to the puck archer by her side. “Sound the retreat.”

A reverberating bellow sounded from the puck’s throat. It almost resembled Stark’s horn. The pucks turned and trotted uphill straight away. The melee warriors followed them not long after. Flint felt the hill giant smile once again. His eyes darted to the antlered specimen, but he still couldn’t see a face under the long fur. Only the green, glowing eyes were visible. Then his fears came to life.

The attacking giants stopped targeting just the horsemen but turned on the Woodson troops too. A swinging club dismounted one of the goat riders. Then a stomp squashed the brownie into mush. One of the giants picked up a fallen horse and threw it at the people retreating on foot. The neighing beast bounced a couple of times before crashing into Rowan. The axe-bearer fell with a loud gasp.

A terrified scream sounded from next to Flint. It was Jaimie. While Flint picked his shots, she had fired arrows indiscriminately. Unlike his attacks, her projectiles had found the joints in the inquisitor’s armor, inflicting significant damage. She had respected Flint’s request, though and avoided lethal shots. Now, she drew her bowstring as far as it would go before channeling golden light through her arms. It flowed into the arrow, swirling around the shaft and the head. When Jaimie fired, her shot transformed into a lance as bright as sunlight. It struck the hill giant closest to Rowan, knocking it off its feet.

Even though the dogs were still outside of Flint’s empathic range, Bjorn did just as Flint wanted. The snow dog darted back downhill to assist Rowan. He closed his giant mouth around the horse’s neck and threw the beast aside like a ragdoll. Rowan grabbed a handful of Bjorn’s thick fur, using it to get back on his feet. He screamed as his lower right leg bent in several different directions.

“He’s not going to make it alone,” Flint whispered, reloading the crossbow. He aimed at the hill giant Jaimie had felled. Even though blood soaked its brown fur, the beast was already climbing back onto its feet.

Bjorn licked Rowan’s face and lowered his giant body. The axe-wielder hesitated for a moment before climbing onto the snow dog’s back. The pair were back within the gates before long, and Maya brought up their rear with one of the bloodhounds.

A distant yelp from among the retreating force below tugged at Flint’s heartstrings. It had come from one of the other dogs. The canine was no longer visible amongst the chaos below. [Keen Eye] helped Flint spot the other one. It was the female bloodhound, and she was running uphill with her tail between her legs. In the distance, Flint spotted a couple of horsemen speeding down the South-Western Road into the Verdant Plains. It took just a glance, but Flint identified one of them as Bluelake.

“You were right,” Winona said, jumping atop the walls. She raised a hand over her head, and the black tentacles twisted into a long, ugly lance. “Wyld casters, prepare another wall!”

Emerald lights lit up around Flint as he tracked the closest hill giant. Its long fur dripped with blood, but he couldn’t tell how much of it belonged to the creature. The giant closed in on a young man helping an injured brownie and raised its monstrous club. Even though most arrows were bouncing off the hill giant’s rubbery hide, Flint refused to leave the pair’s survival to chance. He steadied his aim using the ramparts and channeled [Focused Shot]. The released projectile found a home in the hill giant’s right eye.

“Release the wall!” Winona yelled, and like before, a new bramble wall propped up, separating the retreating force and the giants. If not for the dire situation, Flint would’ve used the opportunity to admire Winona’s ability to coordinate everyone under her command. He had blocked her out while focusing on the dogs before, but now he watched her move once again.

A hill giant failed to stop its charge and fell face-first into the bramble wall. The creature roared as it got tangled in the thorny vines. Winona used the opportunity to launch a shadow spear she had prepared. It drilled through the beast’s chest, putting an end to its thrashing. Winona fell onto her knees, breathing heavily.

“Are you okay?” Flint asked, rushing over to support her.

Winona pointed at the sky. “The sun’s too low in the sky,” she said. “I had to stretch the shadows to pull that last one off.”

“It stopped the charge, though,” Flint said. “Good job. We have some breathing room.”

The pair studied the battlefield once more. A trio of stray horses neighed, prancing away from the hill giants heading downhill. One of them got snatched up and bit in half by one of the injured specimens among their ranks. Much to Flint’s surprise, the muscles around its missing arm writhed around the stump and started to grow.

“It’s regenerating,” Flint gasped.

“That shouldn’t happen,” Winona commented. “I, at least, haven’t seen anything of the kind before. They’re not ordinary hill giants.” She pointed at the creature with antlers atop its head. “It looks smaller and frailer than the rest, but I sense a maelstrom of essence within it.”

“At least they’re retreating,” Flint said before rushing down the stairs to the dogs. Maya, as usual, was unscathed. However, Bjorn and the last hound to return had both suffered injuries.

Sorrow dominated Flint’s empathic sense. All the dogs were heartbroken for the dead bloodhound. Flint’s chest ached when he peeked inside Bjorn’s mind and saw a hill giant kick the poor canine into the cliff wall. There was no way an unenhanced beast would survive such an attack. Flint reached out with his empathic sense and pushed soothing emotions on the two dogs. Maya joined him, calming the two creatures. They flumped down on the stone floor and rolled onto their stomachs, whining.

“It’s alright,” Flint said, keeping his voice as soft as possible. “You’re going to be alright.”

He used [Guide Growth] on both dogs. One had most of its essence in [Power], while the other had it in [Control]. Flint focused on their physical nodes, evening out their lacking sectors. The dogs were far from reaching their next stage of existence. Their current status was no different from Maya's after her first growth. Both dogs grew in size, gaining height and girth. Flint named them Tobi and Gwen after a pair of twins he’d met at the orphanage.

In the distance, Flint spotted pucks, dryads, and several armed humans heading downhill. They were passing his camp and were still ten minutes away. Their help was no longer necessary, but Flint appreciated their hustle. Adam’s lumbering, giant form stood out amongst them. He had donned his leather armor and carried a new shield with his monstrous hammer.

Flint was just starting to relax when the wall shook, and he heard cracks spreading through the stone. All the dogs jumped to their feet. Their ears pricked up, and shoulders tensed.

“Get down!” Winona yelled.

An empathic push got the dogs to follow Flint. He ran to the wall, away from the open space. A heartbeat later, a boulder as big as a hill giant crashed into the guard’s mess hall, shattering the [Totem of Nurture]. When the dust cleared, a shiver ran down Flint’s back. A hexagonal pattern covered the boulder. Giant insectoid heads poked out of the holes, staring at Flint and the panting melee troops with buggy eyes.

As more honeycomb-like fragments rained around the outer defenses, Flint realized this was far from over. He reloaded his crossbow as dog-sized insects flooded the grounds.

47

Flint had neither seen nor heard of insects so big before. Metallic chitin with an oily sheen covered their backs. The colors reflecting off them changed as the disappearing sunlight hit the dark armor at varying angles. Ugly pincers grew out of their hideous faces, and spikes covered their legs. When a guard thrust his spear at one of the creatures, the insect displayed monstrous speed, zipping backward away from the attack. Then the bug’s friends attacked from the side, separating the guard’s foot from the rest of his leg.

The bugs didn’t just attack the guards but raced uphill too. It was a good thing Flint had called the others for backup. They’d need to slow the creatures from getting to the non-combatants at the top of the hill.

“The giants are returning uphill!” She yelled from atop the walls. “We need help up here!”

“I’m a bit busy down here, Winona,” Flint replied, firing his crossbow at a charging bug. He used empathic sense to guide the dogs, instructing them to attack from the sides and rear. The insect’s back legs didn’t have barbs on them, and he spotted unprotected patches on the underside.

An uncomfortable buzz filled Flint’s head. The otherwise clean connection with the dogs felt polluted. He identified an alien presence providing interference and had little doubt it was the hive’s own communication methods.

When a dozen-strong swarm rushed toward him, Flint whistled, and all the dogs raced back to his side. They formed a defensive line around Flint as he fell to his knees. [Change Density] drained an alarmingly large charge chunk of Flint’s essence and redirected it into the stone under his feet. In its current form, the ability was much too expensive. However, he couldn’t think of any other way to contribute. The material first expanded, but Flint closed his eyes and pictured what he wanted, pushing the ability harder, imagining the insects sinking into quicksand.

Suddenly, the initial trickle grew into a torrent as essence rushed out of him into the stone. It felt as if his mental image had given the essence a clearer image of his intent, and it had responded accordingly. When he opened his eyes, stones several feet in front of him had grown puffy and porous. The bugs didn’t seem to care and rushed forward but stumbled as it all turned into sand. Their needle-like limbs lacked surface area and sunk into the ground. An empathic push set the hounds off, and they jumped into action.

Maya’s flicker step carried her behind the now-struggling insects. Lightning buzzed around her body once again. She didn’t need to flip the insects to get to their soft undersides. Instead, she swiped and snapped at their lower halves, filling the air with sickening crunches and squelches. While the hounds followed her lead, Bjorn took a more direct approach. He rushed into the sand, charging into the monsters and stomping on them.

Tails moved into alert positions, and Flint felt the dogs’ fear melting away. They had found their coordination and confidence, so Flint instructed them to go wild. The melee fighters had grouped into small huddles and were doing an excellent job of repelling the insects. However, the critters just kept pouring out of the boulders. At least seven hive chunks lay within the walls now. Just looking at them sent shivers down Flint’s spine. He rushed to the young man with a severed foot and dragged him away from the chaos to a safe corner by the [Totem of Healing].

Much to Flint’s relief, the empowering pillars didn’t affect the insects. While his allies’ wounds clotted and bones snapped into place, the bugs leaked ichor, coloring the ground a disgusting green. The sight turned Flint’s stomach, and he was glad to have missed lunch.

“I need help up here!” Panic filled Winona’s voice.

“Melee fighters, drag the injured to the totem and form a defensive circle around them!” Flint yelled. When the Woodson soldiers responded, he knew the disabled boy would be safe. He made a beeline for the stairs, hopping over the bugs that charged at him. Flint was almost at the wall when a terrifying force barreled into his side, knocking the air out of his lungs.

The old crossbow’s lacquered butt crunched chitin as he swung it at the weight on top of him. Flint used the opportunity to turn onto his back. The new position provided more leverage to assault the attacker. [Builder’s Brawn] must’ve considered the weapon’s bottom end a tool—it caved in the side of the creature’s face and sprayed him with ichor. Flint scrambled away from the collapsed animal. The specimen appeared no different from the other insects, but much like a grasshopper, it featured thicker and more powerful hind legs.

Flint raced up the stairs just in time to pull another one of the beasts off Winona. She had managed to keep its pincers away, but the barbed forelimbs had covered her forearms in deep cuts. Much to his surprise, luminescent blue blood poured from her wounds, and Flint could feel a deep chill coming off the fluid.

“Ed, erect a cover around us!” He ordered, spitting, the boy swinging his spear at the insects scrambling over the walls.

“Yes, Mr. Flint!” Ed dropped to his knees and rose with a flourish, waving his hand to the sky. A finger-thick layer of stone rose with his arm and curved over Flint’s head.

Twylip had the excellent sense to distribute packs full of bandages, ointments, and salves to everyone involved in the fort’s defense. Winona had one such pouch hanging from her belt. A piercing scream escaped her when Flint poured the disinfecting spirit over the cuts. He moved swiftly, rubbing the antiseptic ointment on the wounds.

All of a sudden, Winona’s eyes glowed white. “Yes!” She exclaimed, biting back a groan as Flint addressed a particularly deep gouge. Several floating moonlight bolts manifested around the pair before shooting over Flint’s shoulder. He felt their cold as they zipped by, followed by a hot, piercing sting on his upper back, but he ignored it. Winona was one of their strongest combatants. He needed her to survive.

The sounds of barking and growls accompanied battle cries and loud clicking below. All the sounds faltered when a thundering boom shook the walls. Cracks spread through the platform and up the makeshift cover Ed had erected. All sound resumed as residents of the fort flooded into the clearing around the walls. Winona tried to pull away, but Flint tightened his hold on her, wrapping her wounds.

“I can’t have you bleed out!” He exclaimed. “You’re the one who needs to repel these damned giants!”

Winona stopped struggling, but her brows furrowed as more bolts formed around the pair. Flint caught a glimpse of Twylip out of the corner of his eye. He worried for a moment, thinking the insects would destroy her without issue. Then she raised an odd tube connected to a wobbling pack on her back. Orange light pulsed down her arms. Flint faltered as he spotted a swarm of insects closing in around her. Flames poured from the tube in Twylip’s hands, shooting forth like Bluelake’s frost fire—not as far, but with more fury. The critters screeched as the contraption set them ablaze.

It took a couple of minutes, but Flint managed to stem the bleeding. Winona grabbed Flint’s hand and pulled him away from the center of the wall as another boom shook it. Moonlight bolts continued to form and shoot at all hostiles she spotted until a monstrous hand reached over the wall. Realizing it was coming for her, Flint pushed Winona away from fingers as thick as his neck with all his might. Before he could get away, too, a monstrous digit hooked his leg and pulled him off his feet.

Flint’s nightmares had given the hill giants monstrous, ugly faces. His subconscious had imagined two egg-shaped nostrils in place of noses and pig-like tusks. Instead, he saw a human semblance twisted by a manic, bestial grin. Flint swung his crossbow at it but only hit air. The creature’s hold on his leg tightened, drawing a scream from Flint’s lips. As the pressure increased, Flint heard a series of cracks and then a loud snap.

As he rose higher into the air, an ugly mouth full of broad, flat teeth opened beneath him. Refusing to accept his end, Flint channeled [Change Density] into his crossbow. The stock narrowed and hardened under his fingers, turning into a stick almost as solid as iron. Then he dropped the weapon straight into the giant’s mouth. The creature’s glowing green eyes widened. It released Flint, letting him fall several feet to land painfully on his left arm. The second break didn’t hurt as bad as the first.

The giant staggered backward, clutching at his throat and making a large grating sound. It stumbled into one of its friends. The choking monster’s limbs tangled with the other’s as it grabbed at them in panic. The two fell and tumbled down the slope, taking down a third on their way down.

Even though Flint had somehow taken down three titanic humanoids with a lucky move, he didn’t have much hope for survival. There were still four giants heading toward him, and he was alone outside the walls. The two broken limbs didn’t bode well for him either. Flint dragged himself back to the wall and struggled to pull himself upright. His left arm lacked the strength to pull himself up, and his right leg refused to support his weight.

Relief came when Maya leapt off the wall, landing in front of him. Bjorn followed not long after—landing less gracefully. Flint doubted the two dogs had a chance against the giants. Then blinding moonlight flashed from the wall above them. Giant wings flapped, and Winona rose into the sky. Instead of bolts, lances surrounded her.

“Casters!” She screamed. “Unleash all your power.”

A thundering barrage burst at the giants from above Flint’s head, and a chill ran down his spine. Hope returned. Darkness bordered his vision, and his head felt heavy. Flint knew consciousness was slipping away, but he refused to go down without contributing. He pressed his intact right hand to the wall and poured everything into [Totem of Healing].

48

Maya respected Flint but often worried her favorite human was stupid. He repeatedly put himself at risk to help people that weren’t a part of the pack. She understood he had close friends, but then Flint did the same for strangers or people he didn’t particularly like. Maya often wondered whether it was a human thing or something more.

Personally, Maya loved helping people too. It came with the territory of being a good—no, the best girl. However, she knew not to risk herself unless the person was important to her or her human. When Flint sacrificed the last of his strength to light up the wall, Maya wished he had conserved his strength instead.

Annoyance wouldn’t do her much good now, so she yapped at Bjorn, sending him an image of her plan. The big dog appeared surprised but didn’t protest. She was his superior and also his mate. Maya wasn’t sure whether Bjorn had figured out she was carrying his seed—he wasn’t the most intelligent dog she’d met. However, he was a good boy and knew listening to her was in his best interests.

Bjorn’s hesitation made her doubt herself for a moment as they left Flint by himself and headed down the slope. Winona and everyone else were tearing the hairy giants down with their attacks and bathing the slope in giant blood. She heard the gate opening behind her, so she was sure Flint would be safe.

When barks sounded from behind them, Maya was confident the bloodhounds would provide decent protection for Flint. She had more confidence in their abilities ever since Flint distributed their essence. It hurt her that one of them had lost their mate, but hopefully, they’d find companionship in each other. If not, she didn’t mind sharing Bjorn. He was big and lovable, but she liked her time alone. Maya was painfully aware that would change when her pups came, but that was a concern for the future. For the time being, she focused on her target.

Essence bubbled in the giants as Maya and Bjorn weaved through them. She could feel their strength returning as quickly as her friends’ attacks drained it. A quick glance was enough for her to confirm that Flint was secure. Winona’s wings stood crossed in front of her, forming a shield against the swinging giant. The monster had managed to close in on them despite the barrage of essence attacks. Meanwhile, Flint’s lovely young friend Ed and a young puck were carrying her favorite human through the gate. Meanwhile, the bloodhounds had busied themselves, ripping into the attacking giants’ calves. Much to her surprise, their recently enhanced jaws were ripping through the tough hide and drawing glowing blood. Maya could feel the essence radiating from the light.

Bjorn yapped, bringing her focus to the antlered giant ahead. The essence powering the other giants was pouring from it. Maya was sure bringing it down would end the chaos. She went over the plan again with her mate before they left the slope together and entered the tall grass.

The essence in the glowing-eyed giant continued to boil and twist. A chill ran down Maya’s spine as she felt the difference in their stores. He had several times more essence than her. If that wasn’t bad enough, the energy flowing out of him felt delicate and restrained. Maya quickly realized his control of the mysterious energy was much better than hers.

Following her instructions, Bjorn let his essence flow freely. The circle of cold around him expanded and spun, covering the surrounding grass in frost. When she felt the giant’s eyes shift to him, she zoomed forwards. Instead of running straight at the giant, Maya took a curving path, taking the long route around the giant to keep away from his line of sight.

When the creature raised his giant club and approached Bjorn, she knew her mate would stay safe. The thick layers of fur hid his new powerful muscles. Flint had made him more powerful than the bear she faced during her first night in their new home. If he got hit, she was sure his body and essence lining his fur would survive the attack. Bjorn had good instincts. He preferred avoiding fights. However, the good boy knew how to use his body well.

Once behind the hairy giant, Maya sent instructions to Bjorn once again. He ran to the side, forcing their target to turn. Once his right ear was facing Maya, she let loose an essence-charged bark. The rippling air parted the grass in front of her, and she felt the air crackle around her. Now that she had used the ability a few times, she understood how to direct it. It would be a while before the essence was ready to flow up her throat again, but she was confident one was enough.

The giant roared, letting go of his club mid-swing. His right hand jumped to his ear as blood poured from him. The monster stumbled to his left, making a deep, groaning sound. Bjorn used the opportunity to charge straight at him. Unfortunately, the giant wasn’t as incapacitated as she would’ve liked. The creature swung his left arm, catching her mate with a closed fist. Maya’s stomach twisted as a loud yelp escaped Bjorn and the force lifted him over the tall grass. He landed with a loud thump, but thankfully she didn’t hear the crunch of breaking bones.

Instead of taking advantage of Bjorn’s incapacitation, the giant spun around, looking for the source of the bark. He staggered and stumbled but managed to stay upright. Only one of his eyes now emitted the green light. The right had lost its glow and was full of red.

Maya stayed low and still. Unlike Bjorn, she wouldn’t survive a hit from the creature. She imagined one blow would turn half her bones into dust. Running wasn’t an option, though. If the beast saw her escape, he would focus all his attention on Bjorn. So, when the creature faced away from her again, Maya let the excited essence in her limbs free. The world blurred around her as she covered the distance between her starting position and the giant’s leg in a flash.

Since the giant appeared in complete control of his left side, Maya closed her crackling jaw onto the beast’s right calf. Her essence-charged jaw had little trouble ripping through the tough hide and the flesh within. Blood sprayed on her face as she ripped a large chunk out. Even though it was tempting to go for another bite—the essence flowing from the creature was delicious—Maya ran through the gap between his legs to Bjorn.

When Maya dropped the chunk by her mate’s dazed face, his eyes grew alert. Bjorn attacked the meat hungrily and was back on his feet in a heartbeat. He held his front-left paw off the ground. The good boy brushed his big snout along the side of her face, and Maya understood he was ready to go again. The giant had fallen onto his bottom, and the essence flowing to his friends by the wall had stopped altogether. Instead, he was focusing the radiant green energy on the injured leg and ear.

The two dogs charged together. Maya once again used her speed to take the long way around to her target’s rear. Bjorn approached him from the front. The good boy stopped short, avoiding the giant’s defensive swing. Maya used the distraction to clamp down on the hairy left upper arm. She would’ve preferred to go for the head, but the monstrous antlers got in the way. When the giant tried to peel her off, Bjorn caught up, closed his big toothy mouth around the stomach, and shook his head violently. He didn’t have essence sharpening his fangs, but brute strength helped him rip holes in the hide.

Pain-filled bellows escaped the giant as he tried to wrestle his left arm free. Meanwhile, the free hand swiped at Bjorn weakly. It lacked the strength to push away. When the giant desperately turned onto his right side, Maya found herself lifted off the ground. She let go, brimming full of energy. Even though not long had passed since she last expelled essence, Maya felt her body ready to go again.

A yap was enough to make Bjorn retreat. Red painted his white snout, and the blue circle around him felt stronger and brighter. He, too, had consumed the giant’s essence. The new strength felt great but terrified her. Maya worried about what it could do if she lost control. Once Bjorn was clear, she released her thundering bark again. This time, the rippling air didn’t have to go far before striking the giant’s head. He thrashed for a moment longer before blood poured from the previously good ear. Then the creature stilled.

A stone, the size of Bjorn’s fat paw, peeked out of the giant’s ripped-open stomach. It resembled the shiny balls Flint liked playing with so much. She fished it out and carried it in her mouth as a trophy for him. She didn’t know what it did, but she was sure her favorite human would appreciate it.

Bjorn padded over to Maya’s side and expressed his affection with a sloppy tongue to the face. She nuzzled him before directing him at the wall. The giant’s flesh and blood had restored his essence but done nothing for the good boy’s injured foot. He needed Flint’s attention. She urged Bjorn to walk in front of her and brought up the rear.

Only two of the remaining hairy giants remained. Most of them lay on the ground covered in ugly green-and-brown bolts. Hints of Winona’s moonlight bolts remained as well. Maya knew at a glance—the fight was over. The shiny humans who’d attacked them first lay crushed or dead on the ground. She noticed a couple of them moving but ignored them. They didn’t look like a threat anymore. Flint’s friends would deal with them. A trio of horses neighed, shying away from Maya and Bjorn as they padded uphill, avoiding the towering heaps of dead giant flesh. Bjorn paused when they smelled a former friend.

She spotted a hint of a paw sticking out from under a trampled horse. It was one of the new dogs. Maya saw one of the goats and a little green man too. Her essence boiled with her anger. Maya never thought she’d feel that way for anyone outside of her pack. She recognized a couple of the humans on the ground too. Not all of them were the attackers. It took some prodding to get Bjorn moving again. She unleashed essence one last time, zipping to the last troll. A lightning-charged bite ripped open its leg, and the creature fell, dropping the hive chunk it used as a shield.

Dozens of projectiles from atop the wall peppered the creature, and it collapsed not long after. Maya and Bjorn entered the wall’s safety and settled down for a rest by the glowing green pillar.

49

The Iron Army’s barracks demanded conformity. The sergeants didn’t allow personal decorations of any type. Everything needed to be tidy and perfect for inspection. Anyone that didn’t follow the rules received reprimands and ended up with the worst duties. Flint had survived by sleeping outside and only visiting the barracks to dust his chest and bed. He preferred sleeping outside with Maya and any strays he befriended.

Meanwhile, the Woodson guards had made their barracks their own. Flower-covered vines decorated the walls, framing gorgeous paintings. Flint didn’t mind. This was their home until they found families and moved forward with their lives. He wanted everyone living on his grounds happy and content.

As Flint lay in the straw cot, he realized the guards deserved some sort of stipend. It was the same for the babysitters, teachers, and anyone who provided a service. Everyone who worked in the gardens and production would benefit from a share of their productions or collections. Flint needed to set aside a fraction of the fort’s claim and pay salaries. He made plans to consult Alais on the matter. Perhaps they could start a ledger and let people collect their pay in service and goods.

Some would likely fight Flint on the decision, but he believed the guards and hunting parties deserved special considerations. They risked their lives for the remaining residents, after all. The image of the frozen boy kept returning to Flint. He had been lying in bed for close to an hour but couldn’t get himself to move and face everyone.

Winona had more experience with war than him. Her decisions had helped them win and repel the attacking force. At the same time, he couldn’t help but think that letting her command freely caused fatalities. Flint understood that his thoughts were foolish. People would die during battle. It was inevitable. However, the image of the shattering boy and the swatted goat rider haunted him. The bloodhound’s yelp occasionally sounded in his head too. The dog hadn’t joined the pack yet, but it still hurt.

When Flint heard the gates opening and the voices getting louder, he knew it was time to get up. Despite the close proximity to the [Totem of Healing], Flint’s joints throbbed when he sat up. The splints around his left forearm and right leg were far too uncomfortable. The breaks felt like they had reattached. However, the bones still felt weak and not yet ready to support him.

A loud groan escaped Flint’s lips as he sat up. He felt a sudden wave of excitement through the empathic link. Then Bjorn’s big fluffy head peeked in through the doorway. He made a sound halfway between a yap and a howl before padding in and smothering Flint’s face with kisses. Maya’s empathic touch reached him next. She entered with a more enthusiastic gait, climbing over Bjorn and onto the cot. High-pitched whines escaped the sheepdog as she masterfully avoided his injuries before lashing his face with her tongue.

“I was worried about you two!” Flint laughed, sensing the torrent of emotions within the pair. It took some wrestling to get the two dogs off him. He realized the pair had activated [Soul Link] to infuse him with enough strength to crawl out of the cot.

“What happened to your paw?” Flint asked, noticing the bandages around Bjorn’s ankle. The big snow dog whined and looked at him with round eyes and flat ears. His tongue lolled out as soon as Flint scratched him behind the ear. As they got up, he watched the area carefully, but Bjorn didn’t seem to favor either side. For the time being, he assumed the [Totem of Healing] had fixed the injury but made a note to investigate it later.

Bjorn was now tall enough to support Flint as he walked, and they left the guard’s quarters together. Much to his surprise, he exited from the fae quarters.

No one noticed Flint. Everyone appeared busy with butchering, cleaning up the aftermath, and tending to their wounded. It hurt seeing the gate in pieces after the many hours he had spent building them. Only fragments of the stone gate remained, and the part of the wall above it had collapsed too. Flint would need to rebuild it, but that was probably for the best. [Change Density] would make any wall Flint built much stronger than the previous iteration. The cracks appeared to have spread from the foundation. It was an excellent excuse to strengthen it too.

Twylip got his attention first. Liquid flame erupted from her arms, incinerating a giant hive fragment. Curiosity got the best of Flint, and he used Bjorn’s help to make his way to her.

“I’d say you’re up too early, but Flint Woodson doesn’t come across as someone who stays in bed despite instructions,” Twylip said without looking at him directly.

“To be honest, I did spend an hour laying around feeling sorry for myself,” Flint replied. “Then curiosity got the better of me, and I had to come out here and see how bad the damage was.” Twylip looked like she was about to protest, but Flint swiftly changed the subject. “What’s that contraption?”

“Nice, isn’t it?” She grinned. “Adam and I put it together. One of [Alchemy]’s abilities let me excite liquids to extract their essence and fabricate something more potent. Adam figured out a way for me to pressurize, ignite, and expel the vapors. We call it a flame spitter.”

“It’s a potent discovery indeed,” Flint said, taking a step back as the stream’s heat overwhelmed him. He could see hand-sized creatures squirming in the hive as they burned. “Would you happen to know what happened to Bjorn’s ankle?”

“I’m not sure, but he was limping on the way back,” Twylip answered.

“The way back?”

Twylip nodded. “Your magical hounds went out alone after we rescued you and took down the horned giant. Everyone was awestruck, to say the least.” She chuckled, petting Bjorn. His tail took off once again, loudly swishing from side to side. “He kept gnawing at the paw, and Maya was barking at him, so I put on a bitter cooling salve and bandaged it.”

“Good thinking,” Flint said.

Going by the moon’s position, it was nearing midnight. Yet, several fires burned near the collapsed wall, and everyone—children included—were hard at work. When Flint turned around, his eyes met Winona’s. She stood by the gate in a heated conversation with Alais and Seven. As soon as she saw Flint, Winona left the others mid-conversation and rushed over to him. For a moment, it looked like she was angry and was going to reprimand him. Instead, she fell on her knees in front of Flint.

“I owe you an apology,” Winona said. “You, the lord of this land, trusted me with commanding our warriors. When I stepped out of line and gave into my hatred, you warned me and provided counsel, but it fell on deaf ears. For that, I’m sorry.” The speech started strong, but her voice quivered as she carried on. “It’s my fault we lost people. For that, you have my sincere apologies. I will accept whatever punishment you think is necessary.”

“How many lives did we lose?”

“Seven. Elvin, the swordsman, died to frost fire. Antler, the Wyld rider, fell with his goat mount at the hands of a hill giant. Your bloodhound was crushed under a thrown horse. Luca, our marksman, died watching Keen’s back when the giants got to the wall. Ellis and Leon were growers in the fort. They responded to your call for assistance and were ripped to pieces by the insects.”

Flint wanted to kneel and help Winona up, but his splinted limbs got in the way. “To start with, I’m not the lord. There is no such power dynamic here. You’ve sworn blood oaths to the land, and I’m its representative.” Winona looked up at Flint with her mouth open as if to interject, but he continued without letting her get a word in. “Secondly, I do want to blame you, Winona. You had a lapse of judgement and were blinded by hatred. However, we both are responsible for the people here. So, it’s not just your fault but mine as well. I should’ve been more firm, and not just called my dogs back but taken over and ordered a retreat.”

“Given the circumstances, though, I’d like to think we didn’t fare too poorly.” He gestured at the people, human and fae, working together to clean things up and helping the injured. “After all, we didn’t just face one opposing force but two. If not for your command and magic, more would’ve died. I’d like you to find out if the dead have anyone particularly close among the living and offer them your condolences.”

Winona stood up, wiping away tears. A soft smile formed on her lips as she took Flint’s good hand and squeezed it gently. “I guess I owe you an apology for misjudging you repeatedly,” she said. Winona exhaled slowly before straightening her back. “You should know that we’ve taken three prisoners too.” Flint followed her finger to a man and woman. They sat with their hands bound behind their back with rough stone cuffs. “We used Aetherite with runes that impede skill stone usage. Should I execute them?”

“No,” Flint answered, shaking his head. “They’re soldiers following more or less reasonable orders. Well, they didn’t have the most reasonable of commanders, but they’re not slavers or deserters. I’d like to talk to them and offer them a chance at survival—”

“I don’t think a blood oath is sufficient for people like them,” Winona stated, interrupting him. “If you set them free, it might be a case similar to mine. Their superior officers will be sure they know more than they’re letting on and torture them for information while the blood oath kills them.”

“I figured as much. The inquisition doesn’t have the best of reputations. The oath will be harsher than everybody else’s and require them to serve in the guard.”

Winona glanced at them, furrowing her brow. She exhaled loudly and nodded. “You’re right. We’re not barbarians that murder ordinary troops.”

While the trio discussed a plan of action, they had to put up with multiple interruptions. A brownie and plains dryad appeared to reprimand Flint. They told him his bones were still soft and in recovery. By getting out of bed, he was risking undoing all the work they had done to fix him. Flint had no choice but to apologize and sit down so they’d leave him alone.

The pair gave him a quick rundown on the injured. Rowan had broken his femur. His leg would be out of commission for the next week. A couple of people—including the teenager Flint saw dismembered—were crippled. Twylip interrupted to let Flint know that Adam was looking into designing mechanical prosthetics for them to continue living ordinary lives. Until then, Lefa had taken it upon herself to sing prosthetics out of the new apple trees in the fort—Flint didn’t quite understand what that meant. He imagined dryads singing to trees to grow them into desired shapes.

Then Flint’s eyes widened as carts started coming uphill with butchered giant bodies. Several pucks busied themselves, skinning the body parts and taking the meat off the bone.

“We’ll use the meat to fertilize the soil,” Winona said. “We have craftsmen who can make the most of the bone and hide too. Together they’ll be excellent armor for the hunting party and fae guards.”

“We’ve got several new horses too,” Twylip added. “Most of them are badly injured, but we’ve got Wyld healers who can fix them up.”

The pair continued listing every loss and gain from recent events, but Flint soon lost interest. His eyes drifted to the bloodhounds lying in the distance. They solemnly returned his gaze. Their sorrow radiated through the empathic sense. Helping the pair deal with the grief of losing their sibling would be much harder than helping the humanoid mourners.

Laughter sounded from the gate as a puck jumped atop a cart and moved a giant’s mouth open and closed. Others joined in, and before long, there was food and drink being passed around—Flint wasn’t sure where they got it.

“Flint!” Twylip yelled, snapping Flint back to reality.

“What?”

“What do we do next?”

“Rebuild,” Flint answered. “What else? We rebuild and get stronger. The wall wasn’t good enough, and we need greater deterrents.”

“You need to rest—”

“I have you and the healers.” Flint cut her off mid-sentence. “I doubt the giants are the last monsters we’ll see, and Bluelake got away as well. The Wyld will get here sooner or later as well. I can’t rest until we’re secure.” He turned to Winona. “I’d like you to delegate the watch’s command to someone else. You need to scan everyone here: fae, human, and Wyldblood. Anyone capable of molding essence needs training. We’ll be stronger when they return.”

“You do realize that includes you too,” Twylip commented.

“I’m an empath. Isn’t that the end of it?”

“It might be best if you speak to Alais.” Flint pulled away from Winona when he realized they were still holding hands. Her cheeks reddened as she looked away. It felt so natural Flint hadn’t realized they were still touching. “He tested your blood while the healers were working on you. I think he might have the answers you’re looking for.”

50

It took Flint painfully long to rip himself away from the gate and find Alais. First, he went to the healer’s corner. Twylip told him she had last seen the old puck helping out with the wounded. By the time Flint got there, Alais had already moved on. Flint spotted an unconscious Ed with bandages around his torso, but the dryad assured him Ed wasn’t in any danger. They directed him to the tanner. Once there, Flint discovered the tanner had suffered a grievous injury, and his apprentice was taking the giant parts apart with a pair of brownies. Apparently, Alais was getting in the way, so they’d sent him away.

By the fourth location, Flint was frustrated and in pain. The discomfort had spread into his pelvis and was now creeping up his spine. He was on the verge of giving up when Maya came running downhill, yapping at him. Much to his surprise, she didn’t just broadcast a static image. Instead, she showed him the old puck trudging uphill, carrying a bright green eye as big as his fist.

“I don’t know if I have it in me to catch up to him.” Flint groaned.

The dogs took charge. Maya poked his functioning leg with her snout, then Bjorn plopped down into a seated position. At first, Flint didn’t understand what the two were getting at. Then Maya sent him a memory of the snow dog carrying Rowan uphill away from the rampaging giants. The axe-man was taller than Flint and had a much wider frame too. If Bjorn could carry him, there was no reason he couldn’t bear Flint’s weight too.

Snow dog babble snapped Flint out of his hesitation, and he gave in. He slung a leg over Bjorn’s fluffy torso, and then they were moving uphill much faster than he could walk. They sped past the Heartstone, and, before long, they were at his camp. Alais sat by the pool, washing a giant eyeball. When he spotted Flint, the old puck washed his hands and face before standing up straight.

“I didn’t expect you to get moving so soon. In my not-so-expert medical opinion, you shouldn’t be moving at all. Twylip said you’re not the kind to sit around, though.”

“Well, when I heard you were testing my blood, I couldn’t exactly sit around patiently,” Flint said.

“Ah, yes,” Alais smirked. “Be warned, it’s just a theory, and I have no way to confirm it, but I’m almost sure.” He paused, probably waiting for a reaction from Flint. However, his skills at holding strong and not letting people bait him into showing eagerness held firm. Long ago, a senior builder had once told him that silence carried power. “Have you heard about the Cu Sith?”

“You mean the cow-sized fae moor hounds? That’s one of the few stories I have heard.” Flint smiled, looking away from the puck’s eyes. One of the few fond memories from his childhood resurfaced. “When I disappeared for days at a time, the matrons in the orphanage would ask whether I got carried away by the Cu Sith. Aren’t they just legends?”

“There isn’t a whole lot of evidence, and nowadays, most fae will claim they never existed. I’ve been around for a long time, though. After three or four centuries, most of us stop keeping track of age. So I can’t tell you how long, but I remember hearing their howls during the full moon. They were the terror of my childhood, and mothers still use the Cu Sith to put their fawns to bed.”

“What are you trying to tell me? My ancestors were monstrous dogs?”

Alais laughed. “No, no. Some of us might look like animals, but that doesn’t mean we fornicate with them.” He plopped down by the pool, massaging his hairy goat legs. “There was a time long before the first war between human and fae when the druids visited the disk. They didn’t pray to any blacksmith or the deities the Wyld builds shrines to. Instead, they worshipped the many facets of nature. There’s not much information regarding them, but my research suggests they were neither human nor fae. Perhaps they were Wyldbloods. Maybe they were something completely different. There’s one fact that all fae scholars agree on, though. They were the ones who constructed the Heartstones.”

At first, Flint thought Alais was going off on an odd, unrelated tangent. However, the more the old puck spoke, the more Flint got sucked in. “The Iron Army doesn’t allow much talk about the religions from before they came into existence,” Flint said. He climbed off Bjorn’s back and groaned, lowering himself next to the pool. “I remember during training, one of the cadets got lashed for asking an Iron Church priest about the Heartstone’s origins. He didn’t understand why the Great Smith didn’t just make the pillars out of iron.”

“That boy deserved a lashing,” Alais said. “That’s a stupid question. If it were the Iron Council’s Great Smith who built the pillars, he’d have the brains not to make them out of iron. The metal doesn’t age well, does it?”

“It doesn’t.”

“Anyway. I know for a fact the druids existed. There is plenty of evidence confirming their existence, just not enough records to detail what or who they were. As for the Cu Sith, I’d like to believe they existed—or they still do, and have retreated into the deep wilds after the druids disappeared. The few recounts we have of the druids say that they divided themselves into several orders. Each order had a different totem—a beast they worshipped, befriended, and traveled with.”

“And one of these orders had the Cu Sith as a totem?”

“You’re not a stupid man, Flint,” Alais said, flashing a soft smile. “The druids were empaths. They had a strong connection to our disk’s flora and fauna and had an especially powerful bond with their totem. I tested your blood. There are no traces of high fae in you, but unlike a regular human, your blood is rich with essence. Given your empathic abilities and strong connection to dogs, it’s likely one of your grandparents was a druid living as fae.”

“What does this mean for me?” Flint asked.

“Honestly? I don’t know. It might be that you’re capable of cultivating essence the same way the fae can. Perhaps you can get one of the casters to teach you the basics of their essence manipulation. It might just be that you’ll live longer than an ordinary human and have the ability to use your skill-stone-given abilities a lot more than normal. It’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself. Unfortunately, I can only tell you what you’re not.”

“I’m not a Wyldblood?”

Alais shook his head. “You’re not descended from high fae, dryads, pixies, nymphs, or changelings.”

A young woman walking downhill paused on seeing the pair. She gulped on seeing the monstrous eye in Alais’s hands. Yet she edged closer, eyeing the puck and the big dogs. She didn’t say anything but held out a large basket full of fruits. Alais helped himself to several pieces and attacked them hungrily. Flint only grabbed an apple at first, then a loud whine caught his attention.

It was the bloodhounds. The pair had followed him. Flint picked a piece of fruit for each pack member before letting the woman move on. Alais had fallen silent and appeared busy with his meal. Assuming they were done with the conversation, he used [Guide Growth] and divided his pack’s essence. Maya and Bjorn’s Node Compasses had more grooves after the ones they’d filled. For the sheepdog, he stuck to the usual divisions.

Meanwhile, he avoided Bjorn’s [Aura] and poured the sand into [Control], bringing it to the first groove. Nothing lit up, so he invested the rest in [Power].

As for the bloodhounds, he stuck to the same nodes as last time, bringing [Power] and [Control] a hair’s width from the first grooves. When he was done, all the dogs except for Maya had grown. Bjorn experienced the least change, but his fur felt thicker. Aesthetic changes didn’t bother Flint as much. After seeing the pair in battle, Flint knew they’d be fine. Once he figured out how to manipulate his personal essence, Flint hoped to find a way to strengthen them further. He refused to let any other dog die while in his care.

“Thanks, Alais,” Flint said, mounting Bjorn once again. “This has been an enlightening conversation. If what you’re saying is true, there is a lot more I can do for this land than I initially thought.”

“We’re not done.” Alais whipped a glass vial out of his pocket. A chunk of smoking purple meat sat in it. “Winona didn’t want to concern you unnecessarily, so she gave me this to investigate. I’m afraid it is a valid reason for concern.”

“What is it?” Flint asked, taking the container for him. He held it up to the [Totem of Healing], and no light made it through the thick smoke.

“Winona dug these out of the Vikings that escaped. These artificially bolstered their essence, giving them inhuman strength.” Alais snatched the container back when Flint tried opening the container with his injured hand. “Don’t!”

“What is it then?”

“A chunk of the Forgotten Gods.”

“What?” Flint chuckled at the concept of holding a piece of divinity in his hands. “That looks sick and poisoned.”

“That’s because it is to us. It doesn’t matter whether you’re human or fae. No one should be consuming that flesh. It perverts their essence and existence, turning them into something that shouldn’t really exist. These alien energies only exist in the void after all.” Alais sighed, returning the container to his pocket. “I’m afraid this problem transcends the Iron Legions and the Wyld. The Forgotten Gods aren’t entities of any disk but of the void between them. They exist to devour both life and essence so they can transcend to a greater dimension. That’s what I believe anyway. I’m afraid we know even less about them than the druids, but I know that we should be worried. They’re a threat to existence on the whole disk.”

“I guess that’s not ominous at all.” Flint sighed. “Thanks, Alais. As if dealing with the Iron Legions and Wyld wasn’t bad enough. Now we have to worry about Forgotten Gods too.”

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