by J. T. Wright
He cheated. Cheated you. He meant well. Rules can be bent. Since he cheated, I can cheat. Not too much. Too much isn’t bending. That’s breaking. Hello! You were a good challenger. But weak. I helped make you stronger. Get stronger again. Challenge me again. It will be fun. The sword would have been better. You should have picked the sword. I can’t add too much to your reward. Too much is bad cheating. I cheated just enough. The ring is okay. The sword would have been better. Acrobatics is good, Sword-born would have been great. You’ll learn. Darak means well. Bye.
Not that Trent made much sense of it after reading it twice. Even a third read left him stumped. Who had written this? The Trial? Trent had talked to two Keepers now. He thought they were the Spirits of the Trials. Was there another Spirit that helped the Keepers run things?
Trent set the scroll aside. He reached into the box for the two crystals. As his fingers touched them, they dissolved. Trent felt an energy rush through him, and then the crystals were gone. In their place was a message from his Status informing him he had received four Free Attribute Points and three Free Skill Points.
If the scroll was a message from the Trial, then the Spirit was generous. Trent needed Attribute Points. He needed them urgently if he wanted to challenge another Trial. It was luck and other people’s strengths that had gotten him through the Land of the Undying Lord. Next time, Trent wanted to win on his own.
The Skill Points could help him with that. They were used to purchase new Skills from his Status, or from whatever force governed his Status. Trent was a little fuzzy on the details. Orion had been uncomfortable when Trent asked him where the Skills on the list came from. He had claimed that he didn’t know and changed the subject every time Trent asked.
Trent pulled up the Skills list. He had five free points now, three from clearing the Trial and two for completing the quest to free Orion. After examining the list, Trent decided he might continue to have five points for a long time.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t find great Skills. The problem was there were too many, and he couldn’t decide. They all looked like skills he might need, but many were also unavailable. He read their names on the list, but until he met certain conditions, he couldn’t purchase them.
Looking up the Sword-born Skill, Trent decided that it would be best to wait for this one. It took him quite a while to find that Skill on the list, and when he did he wondered if Darak had cheated him worse than the note had let on. Sword-born was one of the most expensive Skills on the list, costing fifty points. It wasn’t greyed out either. Trent couldn’t afford to buy it, but if the Trial had given it to him, he could have learned it.
Trent closed his Status and tried not to think about what he had given up. He had plenty to concentrate on right in front of him.
The next item to come out of the box was the ring. It was black and heavy, but otherwise plain. Trent tried to slip the ring onto his right index finger, but it wouldn’t go. It wasn’t that it wouldn’t fit, if anything the ring looked too big for his finger, it was more like an invisible force kept him from wearing the ring.
He tried all the fingers on his right hand, but the ring refused to be worn. Had he gotten a piece of equipment he couldn’t use? Frustrated, Trent Appraised the stubborn metal circle.
Enchanted Ring
Contains Basic, Good Quality Shield
Armor Rating 40
Trent scratched his head. Nothing about the information he received from Appraisal made any sense to him. Did it contain a good quality shield? Was it a Storage Device? That seemed unlikely but possible. Trent channeled his Mana into the ring to check. The results weren’t what Trent expected; the ring expanded as his Mana made contact with it.
Trent found himself holding a round black iron shield. He held it for precisely one second before dropping it with a gasp. He hadn’t expected the ring to alter in size, and it expanded so quickly that the edge of the shield caught him on the chin before he realized what was happening.
As the shield left his grasp, it returned to ring form and fell to the ground. Picking it up cautiously, Tent thought the message in the scroll was correct. The sword would have been better. He couldn’t even wear the ring. Was he just supposed to carry it in his pocket?
“What exactly are you doing, Runt?” Sergeant Cullen had returned to find Trent sitting in the grass, rubbing his chin and glaring at his hand. When Trent described what had happened, Cullen took the ring to examine it for himself. His expression was a lot more approving than Trent’s.
“Try the little finger of your left hand.” Cullen handed the ring back. Trent doubtfully did as he was told. The ring slid on to his left hand like it had never made a fuss over his right. The ring’s size decreased until it fit snuggly. Once the ring was on, Trent could hardly tell he was wearing it.
“Now activate it.”
Trent was less eager to follow this command. The ring had a bite that he didn’t want to feel again. Cullen’s growl convinced him he was being foolish. It also reminded him that Cullen’s bite was worse.
This time when he sent Mana into the ring, the shield grew and formed on his arm. That arm dropped under the weight of the shield before he adjusted to it. It was better than being hit in the face, but Trent wasn’t sure how he felt about the ring.
“Aren’t rings supposed to have enchantments that increase your Attributes?” he asked.
“There are lots of accessories, rings, bracelets, necklaces, that can increase your Attributes or resistances. Some can increase your Skill Level. Some are enchanted with offensive or defensive Skills of their own that you can use. Most are trash. What you have there is more useful.”
Seeing Trent’s lips purse, Cullen continued, “Think about It, Runt. What’s more useful, a ring that increases your Strength by one point, or a shield that you can carry everywhere and will never get in the way of your movement? You’re thinking that you could put a shield away in Storage, and it would be just as handy, but you’re wrong. Taking items from Storage takes time and concentration. With a little practice, that shield will be available in an instant. Good Adventurers always carry a few pieces of equipment in ring form, just in case.”
“What else have you got here?” Cullen bent down and took the Spell Stone and two Skill Stones out of the box.
Trent wanted to stop him; those were his treasures, but the shield slowed him down. By the time Trent figured out that it took another surge of Mana to collapse the shield back into its ring form, Cullen was already Appraising the Stones.
“Self-Clean, good Spell. Use it, you stink.” Cullen tossed the spell stone to Trent. The boy snatched it out of the air. He learned the Charm but didn’t cast it. His eyes never left Cullen.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the Sergeant. Trent’s behavior was a response to weeks of traveling with Tersa. The two hadn’t come across many Skill Stones in the Trial, and the few they had found, Trent had learned when Tersa couldn’t. Food, on the other hand… if Trent hadn’t learned to protect things that mattered to him, he might have starved to death.
“Three Steps, an Unarmed Technique.” Cullen muttered, “This you don’t need. You haven’t mastered basic Unarmed Combat yet.” Trent’s hand darted out and grabbed the Stone from Cullen’s palm. He learned the Skill before Cullen could stop him.
“I wasn’t going to steal it, Runt,” Cullen growled. “You are still learning to crawl, and you are learning Skills that require you to run. Don't think I didn’t notice that, ‘Ocean Meets the Shore,’ in your Status. Learning advanced techniques before you’ve got a handle on the basics is the stupidest thing you can do. If you had a sword that paired with that Technique, it would ruin you. Skills affect you; they change you. You have to be careful with them.”
Trent didn’t tell him that he had a sword that was meant to be used with Ocean Meets the Shore and that the Technique had caused him trouble. Instead, he eyed his remaining Skill Stone and asked nervously, “Skills can change you?”
“What do you
think happened to this idiot?” Cullen nudged the foot of the still unconscious Tersa with one of his own.
That question snapped Trent out of his greed induced panic. “You stunned her with a Skill! I don’t think…”
“Not that! She got hit with Senseless because she’s leveled Enraging Aura almost as high as her personal Level. And she did so without having anything to counter it. Do you think it’s normal for Tersa to go berserk and attack without warning?”
Trent had to think about that. It was normal for Tersa to rush into a fight. He didn’t think that was what Cullen was talking about, though. It was unusual for Tersa to fly into a rage and attack a friend. He said as much.
“Exactly! The Skill she thought she controlled ended up controlling her. It’s the same with your Techniques. I’ve seen Ocean Meets the Shore being used before. In the hands of a master, it is incredible! For a novice? It will pull your strikes off and mess with your footwork. You’ll be fighting yourself as much as you’ll be fighting your opponent.”
Trent couldn’t argue with that, but he still wanted that last Skill Stone, to, at least, have an opportunity to find out what it was. Fortunately, Cullen tossed the Stone to him.
“That one you should learn. Acrobatics is a rare Skill and a good one. It’s a passive Skill, which will enhance your Agility and any Agility-based Skills. You will notice a marked improvement to your Dodge and Dash Skills once you’ve learned Acrobatics.” Cullen grinned evilly as Trent learned the Skill, and the Stone crumbled to dust.
“The really interesting thing about Acrobatics is that it is a passive Skill that must be actively trained.” The corners of Cullen’s mouth twisted up further. His eyes glowed with enthusiasm as he continued. “You will need to boost that Skill to Level 2 as soon as possible. You might even enjoy the training. I know I’ll get a kick out of it.”
Forward rolls and somersaults, that was how you trained at the first Level of Acrobatics. Cullen had Trent rolling down the hill, and then flinging himself back up it, as the rest of the group prepared to leave. Outwardly, the Sergeant was disgusted when Trent’s enthusiasm never waned after an hour of tumbling about. Inwardly, Cullen wished more Recruits took their training so seriously.
Once Corporal Francis had everything ready, Trent was allowed to interrupt his training to say his goodbyes. Dizzily, he stumbled over. He awkwardly wished everyone the best, but he was only able to summon up a sincere farewell for the mare whom he had never gotten around to naming.
He fed the horse an apple and scratched at her neck. Cullen said feet would do just fine for what he had planned so the mare would be returning to the Keep. Trent wished he had time to tell his four-legged friend all that had happened to him in the time they had been apart. He settled for apologizing for not being able to provide her with more apples.
The mare nuzzled his chest as if she understood. She seemed changed by her own time in the Trial, bigger, more intelligent. Trent wasn’t sure if he was imagining things or not, but he hoped the Trial had been good for her. He accepted her affectionate gesture and scratched her jaw until Cullen called him away.
Together the boy and the Sergeant watched the troop and wagon roll away. Before they were out of sight, Cullen passed a short bow to Trent. The Sergeant had retrieved the bow from Bailey, who had borrowed it from Trent in the Trial. The Archer Recruit had almost been unwilling to surrender the weapon. Trent, on the other hand, almost refused to take it.
“Since you haven’t seen fit to arm yourself yet, you will carry the bow for the duration of our training.” Cullen had always intended to make Trent train in Archery. Making the boy think it was a punishment was just the Sergeant’s way of reminding Trent that a Swordsman should have a sword. “You will also need a one-handed sword, short or long, your choice. Strike that, longsword only."
There was probably a reason behind this order, but Cullen didn’t explain, and Trent knew better than to ask. He inventoried the many weapons in his Storage, all loot from the Trial, and attempted to find a suitable sword.
Cullen walked over to where Tersa lay snoring. Her eyes were closed now. Senseless had worn off an hour ago. The girl was sleeping peacefully. Cullen had been tempted to wake her the moment he realized his Skill was no longer responsible for her unconsciousness. He didn’t, though; there were a few more things to sort out.
Trent settled on a plain sword and strapped it to his waist. Three feet long, with a narrow blade, a simple cross guard, and a leather-bound hilt, the weapon wasn’t entirely to his tastes. The sword would do extra damage to the Undead, but its basic attack rating of 10 wasn’t as good as his lost Al’rashian sword. It was nowhere near as good as his broken soul-bound knives. He would need to acquire a better blade eventually, but for now, this one would serve.
The sun was starting to set as Trent joined Cullen. “Should I start a fire Sergeant? It will be dark soon.”
“No.” Cullen rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles. “We won't be staying here. Don't worry. You have plenty of energy left. You’ll be good for days.”
Trent didn’t like the sound of that. His Secondary Attribute, Endurance, did provide him with increased Stamina, but rest was still a necessity. From the Sergeant’s words, it didn’t sound like Cullen agreed.
“Before we wake up your angry friend,” Cullen turned to face Trent, “tell me everything that happened in the Trial.”
Trent’s report was long and convoluted. He tried to gloss over some of the details, but Cullen pried them out of him. Had they gotten separated from Corporal Francis? How? Had they fought a Level 15 Tainted Terror? A Named Beast? In the names of all the gods, why?
Before too long, Cullen knew just about everything. He knew that Tersa had bumped Trent into a transport spell. He knew that she had developed a habit of rushing into overwhelming odds without considering the consequences. He was made aware of every detail Orion had told them about Leveling and Classes.
Cullen sighed after he permitted Trent to end his report. It was getting dark. Contradicting his earlier statement, Cullen tossed an armload of wood out of his Storage and told Trent to build a fire. They would be leaving, but not quite as soon as he had planned.
Cullen rubbed a hand across his face and swore at Orion under his breath. It was a halfhearted cure. He couldn’t really blame the man. Cullen was a foreigner in this kingdom. Before he had met Lewis Al'dross, he had never even heard of the Al’verren Kingdom.
In Cullen’s birthplace, all the things that Orion had explained to Trent and Tersa were common knowledge. The first time Lewis had told the Sergeant about the state of affairs in the noble’s homeland, Cullen had been sure the man was joking. Now Cullen helped keep the secrets that he’d once mocked.
After Trent had the fire going, Cullen decided there was no point putting off the inevitable. He took out an item from his Storage and held it loosely in one hand. He told Trent to stand back. It was time to wake the Brute snoring on the ground. Trent ‘s eyes were wide as he watched Cullen move to stand at Tersa’s feet. Waking her would not be an easy task. Trent was morbidly curious to find out how the Sergeant would manage it.
“Recruit Tersa, on your feet!” Cullen’s voice was firm but not particularly loud.
That would never work. Trent wondered what the Sergeant would try next. A moment later, Trent’s jaw dropped open. Tersa leaped to her feet, spluttering. Her head whipped from side to side as she tried to remember what had happened.
Of all the magic Trent had seen, the Sergeant’s act of waking Tersa was the most impressive. In the past, Trent had tried shouting, poking, kicking, and dousing her with water. These all had mixed results. The only reliable method of waking Tersa was to hold her nose and mouth closed until the lack of oxygen shocked her awake. In Trent’s opinion, Cullen had just accomplished the impossible.
Tersa looked around, wondering what she had missed. When she was awake enough to spot Cullen, her earlier anger came rushing back. “Don’t think I'm through with you yet, ya pissing bas
tard!”
The item Cullen had been holding plopped to the ground in front of Tersa. She jumped back, thinking the Sergeant was launching a sneak attack. Her face went blank when she saw what he had thrown. A waterskin. Her waterskin! The one she had dropped when she fell to the ground after running into Trent in the Trial.
Observing from a distance, Trent was astounded by Tersa’s reaction. Cullen had tossed a simple waterskin; it hadn’t even hit her, and yet her mouth shut, and the blood drained from her face. In the dying sunlight and the flickering of the fire, Tersa resembled a type of Undead.
“Former Recruit Tersa, I believe that is yours. Why is it lying on the ground?” Cullen folded his arms behind his back. His head tilted to the side. He clicked his tongue once, softly, as he waited for Tersa to answer.
“Sergeant, I swear, it was an accident. I won't lose it again!” Tersa stared at the waterskin in horror. When Cullen had yelled at her earlier, she had reacted defensively.
Now, confronted by a calm Cullen and presented with clear evidence of her crime, she still acted defensively. Her mind whirled with thoughts of how the Guard punished Recruits who lost equipment due to carelessness. There was no getting out of this, but maybe she could lessen the impact.
“Calm down, former Recruit Tersa.” One of Sergeant Cullen’s hands came out from behind his back. With a flick of his wrist, a second item joined the waterskin on the ground. Trent craned his neck to see what it was.
Tersa flinched. Her heels clicked as she brought herself to a position of attention. When the second item hit the dirt, she almost expected it to explode. When no violent magic rocked the evening air, she joined Trent in stretching her neck to see what Cullen had thrown.
A gold coin. A single gold coin. It was a great deal of money. Tersa had been in the Guard for two years, and she had never earned half as much as that single coin represented. To say she was confused by the sight of it would be an understatement.
“You'll need both of those things, I think,” Cullen’s hand slipped back behind him. “Wherever you decide to go, it will be a long walk. You will need water. The coin will help you get set up. It’s more than we usually pay people who wash out of the Guard. Consider it a bonus for surviving the Trial. Good luck.”