by J. T. Wright
He clutched the horn tightly before stuffing it in the bag. He would remember, and he would get stronger. He would!
He kept telling himself that, as he slowly walked away to begin his new assignment.
Chapter 13
“Not quite fair, Sergeant,” Francis spit, as they watched Trent’s slow, defeated retreat. “You’re a mean cuss, but usually fair. The kid did well enough for a fresh Awakened with no Class. I’ve seen new recruits drop their weapons and run after they caught sight of a Horned Hare coming at them. At least he tried.”
“That’s why we’re stopping, Frank.” Cullen took out his pipe and fiddled with it but didn’t light it. “I didn’t expect him to win; just wanted to test him. That runt learns fast, and he’s eager. He needs a bit of failure, or that eagerness will get him into trouble.”
“Well,” Francis considered, “I don’t suppose this will break him, but you might have set him against a little easier target.”
“You think?” Cullen snorted. “He hit the damn Hare with his first strike! If the beast had been a lower Level, he might have worn it down and won.”
“True.” Frank nodded. “That wasn’t badly done, clean hit too, though I think he underestimated the beast’s speed. We should start him on spear or longsword training. With a bit more distance…”
“He’s got enough on his plate.” Cullen shook his head. “We need to Level him and see what his first Class is before we add more. It’s damned frustrating, actually. I’ve fed the kid XP for a week, and he hasn’t leveled yet!”
“First Level sets the stage, only the Commoner Class ranks up early.” Frank disagreed. “You’d be disappointed as all hell if the kid got his Class with a hundred XP.”
“He’s at three hundred now, Frank!” Cullen said, exasperated. “Two-fifty is the highest I’ve ever heard of before.”
“Two-fifty? Who do you know got that high? Two hundred is the highest I’ve ever seen!” Frank looked at Cullen, genuinely curious. The Corporal had been over the moon when it took him one hundred and twenty-five to hit his first Level.
“Doesn’t matter,” Cullen hedged. He wasn’t about to talk to the Corporal about Lewis Al’dross’s secrets.
As for being upset, if Trent leveled at one hundred Core, Cullen wouldn’t have cared. The Sergeant was walking proof that your starting point wasn’t as important as your effort.
“You head back and wake that lazy son of a bitch, Keller, up, I’m in too good a mood to want to put the boot to him today.” Cullen stowed his pipe. “I’m going to go make sure none of the recruits are dead.”
“I thought putting the boot to Keller was what put you in a good mood.” Frank muttered, then, louder, as Cullen walked away, “What about the boy? You don’t want me to follow him, sneaky-like?”
“Trent will be fine.” Cullen didn’t turn back. “He needs time on his own, and you aren’t as sneaky as you think. If he runs into trouble, he can keep away from it long enough for us to get to him.”
Frank frowned. It was true that Cullen was fast when he wanted to be, and the locator rods were a lot more passive than they told the recruits. They didn’t need to break them. In fact, no Recruit would be capable of snapping an enchanted item. That was just a bit of nonsense to see if they’d remember the little things in an emergency. But still…
“Certainly not as sneaky as you,” Frank half suspected the Sergeant would shadow the kid himself. If not today, certainly the rest of the field exercise. The Corporal turned his attention to the dead Hare. “No sense in letting you go to waste,” he said, drawing a skinning knife. The Sergeant hadn’t let any of the Guards bring anything besides the basics, no more than he had the recruits. Lots of good meat on a Horned Hare.
**********
Two hours later, Trent found himself near a lake. He hadn’t seen another sign of water all day. Blue and clear, stretching out for miles in all directions, its appearance startled him. It was an odd thing to stumble across among the grass-covered hills.
He had wandered aimlessly around the hills, gathering herbs and thinking. Occasionally his thoughts were on the plants he found. There were a number that his Herbalism Skill told him were useful, but he couldn’t Identify them. There were also plenty he did recognize and more than a few wild vegetables that he thought would be welcome back at camp.
But every time he put a plant into his bag, he saw the horn. When he stuffed them in without looking, his hand would brush against the memento. Inevitably, his thoughts would turn towards the Hare, towards his failure.
The Sergeant hadn’t yelled at him. He hadn’t even seemed all that displeased with him. Kirstin would be, though. She would have sneered at him disgustedly and told him to get stronger. He’d spent very little time with his master, and yet it was a physical blow to him that he didn’t meet her standards. He didn’t even know what those standards were.
Daily he checked his Loyalty Rating, and daily, he watched it fall. It had fallen to 31 now. Some mornings he found himself resenting the young blond-haired noblewoman whose actions caused his loyalty to drop. He resented her and yet he couldn’t hold onto the resentment. Wasn’t her opinion of him accurate? He almost died today on the horn of a beast the Sergeant had killed with a single blow. Didn’t that prove his master was right?
These were the thoughts running through his head as he slowly climbed another hill. The lake’s appearance was a distraction that he was happy to entertain. Was this the blue thing in the distance that he’d seen from camp? How far had he come?
He looked behind him but saw no sign of wagons, tents, or people. Were they too small and far away? The lake, its waters lapping gently at a sandy shore, was extensive, easily seen from afar, if you were high enough. Right?
There was something about the lake. It was the first one he’d ever seen. They crossed a river leaving the city, and the journey to this area had led them past any number of streams and ponds, but this was the first lake.
Why weren’t they camped here? Sure, water could be acquired with magic. The waterskin at his belt was proof of that, but the Sergeant usually preferred to draw fresh water for the horses.
Wild animals also needed water. Was that why they stayed away? Did this lake draw all the beasts in the area? Looking around, Trent saw no sign of wildlife, not even a bird. The peaceful water showed no signs of fish jumping in it.
Walking slowly forward, Trent’s boots eventually found themselves standing on the sandy beach. He was no tracker, but the Sergeant had given plenty of talks on the subject, and Trent suspected it was another Skill he would probably be taught. Even with his limited knowledge, he was pretty sure there should be signs of life leading to the water, but there were no tracks or droppings. The sands practically looked like they’d been groomed. It was beautiful, serene, and peaceful. Trent took a few more steps forward.
He didn’t know how to swim. It was a warm day, made warmer by his heavy protective clothing. When they’d passed ponds, the recruits had lamented not stopping to swim. Even if Trent couldn’t swim, he could wade, right? His feet suddenly felt unbearably smothered in his boots.
But there was something about the lake. Something he’d heard. From Cullen? The Corporal? Tersa or Arisa? Probably not Keller. No, it was Keller!
Keller was responsible for driving the wagon. Trent hadn’t interacted with him much, but he remembered Keller talking with the Corporal. About the lake. About how it was bad luck!
Keller didn’t trust the lake, said it was unnatural. They came here because there were plenty of low-leveled beasts to train on. Keller said that was because higher-level creatures were intelligent enough to stay away!
He’d said a name. What was it? Trent snapped his fingers as he tried to remember. The action reminded him of Arisa casting Spark. That was it. Not Spark but Fire Lake? Flame Lake? Burning something?
Trent was sure it had something to do with fire. But maybe that was a different lake. There were no flames or smoke here. Just gently lapping waves and
a calm cooling breeze. And absolutely no signs of life!
He should leave, head back. He could gather more herbs and vegetables on the way and ask the others about the lake when he got back to camp. His feet crept forward instead.
He was in the middle of the beach now. Still no threats had appeared. Still no sign of fire. One more step and that was the step that did it.
You have entered a Trial. A Trial of Perseverance, the Burning Lake.
Trent’s breath caught in his throat. A Trial! That wasn’t possible. Keller had said the lake was unlucky. Trials weren’t unlucky! They were sought after, valued. His master’s family’s center of power was built around a Trial. He’d come from a Trial!
Trent’s jaw dropped. Why would anyone avoid a Trial unless they didn’t know? His Status was slightly different than the others. He received messages that no one else did. Was this an example of that?
Despite beginning his life in the Al’drossford Trial, Trent didn’t know much about them. He had heard that Trials were meant to be challenged. They could make you stronger! The Sergeant had said that.
If people knew this lake was a Trial, at the very least, there would be a village nearby. If they didn’t, and there was nothing to draw them here, could Trent be the only one who knew?
He should go back. Sergeant Cullen had to know about this. It was important!
But he didn’t go back; he stepped forward. The bag holding his plants fell from his hand. Empty, that same hand reached up and tugged at the collar of his jacket. He wasn’t supposed to remove his jacket, except to sleep, but wasn’t it getting hotter?
He should go back. He stepped forward. Trials made you stronger. Why was it suddenly so warm? Trials were valuable; they held worth, treasure, and Strength.
He stepped forward.
**********
Cullen stood at the edge of the camp, chewing on a long blade of grass. Everyone had returned to camp for lunch. Everyone except Trent.
The recruits had a successful hunt. No Levels gained, but plenty of Experience and they picked up useful materials that they would be allowed to sell to pad their pockets. Tersa had even learned the Harvesting Skill while dressing out a kill. A very useful Skill for a Guard or Adventurer and the girl was happy about it. So pleased, in fact, Cullen couldn’t ruin her mood when he patiently described all her failings at length. She was still excited when they got back to camp, and she couldn’t wait to tell Trent.
She was a Guard now, and lots of people stayed in the Guard until they were too old to work anymore. But some served five or six years and then took their training to other lines of work, like adventuring.
She was happy in the Guard. Sergeant Cullen’s yelling wasn’t like her old man’s hollering. The Sergeant always had a reason for it, and he helped you “fix yourself.” Tersa didn’t mind his hug-yelling; it showed the Sergeant cared.
Harvesting opened a whole new world for Tersa. She wasn’t quite ready to jump ship and explore the world, but she wanted to talk about the option. She couldn’t really do that in the present company since she was the odd one in this group. The other recruits were all outstanding in their own ways.
Mages were rare in the Guard, especially talented ones like Arisa. Geoffen had two Class slots and a Profession slot on top of the Leadership Skill; he’d be a Sergeant or Corporal one day, maybe even an officer.
Bailey had Archery at twelve even though he was only Level 6, a sure sign of an advanced class someday.
Devan had the Truth Sensing Ability, naturally gifted too, not bought. Lerner was a gifted Defense type, already specialized at Level 5 as a Squire. Not being Nobility, he’d probably only get a basic Knight Class like Hedge Knight, but that was still pretty good.
That left Tersa. She hadn’t been able to specialize at Level 5, and now at Level 6, it was apparent she was behind the curve with her misspending Points on Con. She only had two no-tiered Charm spells and no aptitude for better. She had no Abilities or high-leveled Skills. She honestly didn’t know why she was along on this special training.
What she didn’t realize was that Cullen and Lieutenant Ranchell thought highly of her attitude, and both had approved of her as a training partner for Trent. In her eyes, she was a screwup that normally wasn’t trusted to even boil water on her own. That’s why Harvesting was such a big deal for her. Trent would get it; he always listened.
Tersa wandered away from the fire to stand behind Cullen. He was just staring into the distance. She peered around him and looked, but couldn’t see anything, except for that blue whatsit way out there.
She cleared her throat, straightening her helmet nervously. “Ah, Sarge…Sergeant?” Never call the Sergeant, Sarge, idiot!
“What is it, Recruit? Are you done burning the meat yet? No, we won’t waste a healing potion on your indigestion,” Cullen responded irritably.
Tersa bit her lip and frowned at the Sergeant ’s back. That was probably safe. She didn’t stick out her tongue; he’d somehow know if she did that. She had burned her share of the meat they’d brought back. It was still perfectly edible!
“Done eating, Sergeant. I was just wondering about Trent. Shouldn’t he be here?”
“Trent’s busy with his own duties, and you and the others should be deciding what your afternoon training will be,” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Unless you need my help figuring it out?”
Tersa frowned harder. Not at the Sergeant. His threat barely scored a hit this time. Everyone else was in camp. That meant Trent was alone with no one to watch his back. Tersa was certain that was her job.
“It’s just that Guard policy is to always operate in pairs on duty and especially in the wilds. Maybe I should go looking for him, Sergeant?”
“Who do you think made that policy, Recruit?”
Tersa winced. She always said the wrong thing! But the Sergeant didn’t sound angry as he continued.
“Trent isn’t a member of the Guard and falls outside of policy. He’s fine.” Cullen turned. “I’m watching out for him, Recruit Tersa, just like I am for everyone here. Dismissed.”
Tersa grunted. “Yes, Sergeant, I…ahh… Yes, Sergeant!”
Tersa wasn’t entirely satisfied with this answer but accepted it. Cullen’s words sounded like a promise, and the Sergeant, for better or worse, always kept his word.
She turned around and went back to the fire. The others were already discussing the plan for the afternoon. It sounded like she’d get to practice her Harvesting Skill some more. Somehow that wasn’t as exciting as it had been earlier.
Cullen went back to his watch. He resisted the urge to find Trent’s exact location with the master locating rod. The rods were an expensive magical tool, nearly impossible to break, which was why the Guards liked to tell the recruits that was how you activated them, and they were enchanted not only with Find but Danger Sense as well.
He knew that Trent had activated the Danger Sense enchantment twice since morning. The enchantment was sensitive. It would respond to anything threatening the holder that was within four hundred yards. Trent’s activations were always mild, probably indicating a low-level beast at the edge of the enchantment’s range. Those twinges didn’t bother Cullen.
What did bother him was that the Find enchantment on the locating rod indicated Trent was in the vicinity of the Burning Lake. The lake wasn’t dangerous. It put off heat that increased the farther you went into the water. Heat that was uncomfortable and eventually painful, but it didn’t cause any damage to one’s body.
The Infinite World was full of the strange and mysterious. Most people assumed that the Burning Lake had a powerful Fire Source at its center, and it was unapproachable. Many Class Holders, Fire Elementalists especially, had tried to get to the center. But the lake was unnerving. If you went in too far, there was no damage, just intense pain even if you had fire resistance or compatibility.
People and beasts found it unnerving and avoided it. Some thought it was cursed or unlucky, but they were fools.
Cullen thought of Keller. Curses could be detected; nothing has ever been found in the lake. No monsters, no beasts, no treasure, absolutely nothing.
Even if Trent is at the lake, the second he touches it, he’ll be running back here, Cullen thought. No reason to worry. And yet, he was worried.
Chapter 14
I can’t swim, Trent thought, standing at the lake’s edge. The waves crashed against the beach, the water almost reaching the toes of his boots.
The lake was a Trial. It would make him stronger. A Trial was meant to be challenged. He instinctively knew that meant there was always a way to conquer it, no matter what your skillset.
He inched forward, his boots touching the water. The water didn’t soak through the leather. His toes felt warmer. That’s backwards, water should be cool.
The fact remained that where his feet touched the lake, they felt not wet but warm, almost hot. Like he was holding his hands too close to a campfire for just a little too long. It didn’t hurt exactly, but he got the feeling it would. The more he moved forward, the more it would hurt.
The Burning Lake. That was what Keller had called it. It was cursed, only it wasn’t because it was a Trial. He should go back. Report this. If he was meant to go into the Trial, the Sergeant would tell him to. He had only been told to gather herbs. It was time to go back.
The hot sensation spread up to his ankles. Oh! He’d stepped forward. A big step. The water itself was up to his ankles, still unpleasant but not quite painful. Hadn’t he decided to go back?
Another step forward. Another step just as big as the last. Water, heat, to his calves. Step, still to his calves, but now pain. His skin on the edge of being burned. If he held his feet to a fire, being this close to the heat for this long would burn him.
Pain, but Trent didn’t feel damaged. He had taken damage in training. It was always possible. Someone swung a little too hard; he hit the ground a little too roughly. Most trainees went through this but didn’t take any real hurt. His Constitution was just too low. That was why his Health went down from the bumps and bruises. He was delicate, fragile, like a little toy doll.