Benedict Jewel strode into the tavern at high noon, drawing all eyes to him. Wet, viscous viscera clung to his bare pale skin and blonde hair like drying glue while soaking deep into his tunic and pants. It felt rather more disgusting than taking a dip in the worst of swamps. Each step squelched and left a small patch of wetness on the floor that quickly blended in with the rest of the grime left by other adventurers who frequented the establishment.

  Had the mess on him been blood or entrails mixed with a healthy smattering of dirt, it might have been quite a triumphant entrance. Everyone who saw him knew what it really was, though: slime jelly, a substance so easily avoided that to be stained so thoroughly with it was an embarrassment. Fortunately, behind Benedict strode Rin Formand, a burly axe-wielding warrior who drew the gazes away.

  Together, the men walked to a small counter separate from the bar. Manning it was a young woman wearing an enticingly low-cut bodice over an equally low-cut dress. Benedict strongly suspected her current stance, which involved squeezing her own breasts together slightly more than usual, was solely for Rin’s benefit. Women tended to act like that around him.

  “Good afternoon, Miss,” Rin said in his deep, gruff voice.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” she replied with a purposefully deep bow.

  “We have gathered a load of slime jelly. Would you happen to have the current prices?”

  With the speed of one well practiced at her craft, she reached under the counter to grab a large book bound with metal rings. She leafed through it for only a moment before responding. “Seems like jelly is in need lately. It says here twenty aur per bottle.”

  “Excellent, because my partner and I have twelve bottles each.”

  “Partner?” Finally, the woman looked past Rin and saw Benedict. “Oh dear, was it your first time?”

  Benedict managed to keep his display of annoyance down to a grown. “Yes, ma’am, it was.”

  She searched under her counter again, this time coming up with an empty basket. “If you could place your items in here, I’ll confirm the sale. And, sir?”

  “Just call me Benedict, ma’am.”

  “Yes, sir, Benedict. Everyone deals with this. It’s something of a rite of passage among adventurers to be soaked in slime jelly.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, miss.”

  Benedict reached to the small leather-clad box, known as a coffer, strapped onto his belt. With his hand hovering next to it and a single mental command, a bottle of slime jelly appeared right in his grip. He placed it in the basket, then repeated the action to grab another, then another until he had withdrawn all his dozen. Rin did the same, filling the basket beyond its brim.

  Gently, the woman removed the basket and dropped several gleaming coins on the counter. A closer inspection would have revealed numbers ranging from one to twenty on the faces, with each specific value having a slightly different weight. Benedict drew a wallet from his coffer and placed every coin inside. He had three bags inside total, though only one held anything at the moment. Rin had suggested having multiples for the future when he carried more money.

  Rin slapped Benedict’s back hard enough to move him forward a few inches. “What do you say we get you some time with a thaumaturge? I think you’ve earned it.”

  Over the past month of killing goblins and slimes, rescuing pets, and gambling, Benedict hoped so. Every adventurer he met had some thaumaturge-given power except. Rin had several. It was something one needed in the wilderness when things got hard.

  “Sure, let’s go.” Benedict looked down at his clothes. “Maybe after I change. Where were we headed?”

  Rin handed Benedict a parchment with specific directions written on it. “Amelie’s Apothecarion. Here are the directions.”

  After changing into a set of decidedly less heroic clothes and dropping his soiled ones at the cleaner, Benedict walked through the town, following Rin’s directions as closely as he could. Annora was fairly small, with its primary industries centered on adventuring. Taverns, inns, weapon shops, clothing shops, and thaumaturges were all available, with most of them even having a selection of two or three to choose from. Benedict had visited all of them except for one: the sole thaumaturge in town.

  Her building was on a small hill, accessible either by climbing or using a small bridge. At an initial glance, it was little more than a normal cottage, then one got a look at the violet fascia above the door. Gold lettering reading “Amelie’s Apothecarion” ran across, with the words “Enchantments, Enhancements, Potions, Powers” written on the windows in the same color and style. A pair of gardens flanked the door, and the flowers therein gave off a cacophony of sweetness and musk; likely used for those potions advertised on the windows.

  “This is a nice place,” Benedict said, trying to ignore the smell.

  “Amelie is one of the best I’ve encountered in this region.” Rin opened the door. “Just be careful inside.”

  Immediately upon entering the shop, Benedict had to stop right in his tracks. Two heavy tables were there, both with rows of containers placed upon them. Each container had a small spigot on one side positioned over a saucer and a sign above describing what exactly the liquid inside did. The single serving bottles used for the potions sat on the counter at the back of the room. Nothing else was there except a small bell and three large books.

  Rin walked up to the counter and tapped the bell.

  Almost instantly, a young woman appeared from the back door carrying another container. A large white beret lay atop long hair that waved almost like a cape when she spun around to greet them. “I’m sorry! I was putting the finishing touches on a new potion.” She set the container on the counter and wiped her brow. “Now, what can I do for—oh, Rin!”

  “As observant as ever,” Rin said.

  “You know I miss things when I work.”

  “Like my partner, apparently.”

  She looked right at Benedict with deep violet eyes, then smacked her own forehead. “I am so sorry!”

  “No need to apologize,” Benedict said, offering a bow. “Benedict Jewel, ma’am.”

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  “I am Amelie Fernbel, official thaumaturge of Annora, as assigned by the Ministry of Thaumaturgy. I specialize in enchantments, enhancements, potions, and powers. So, are we here for business or pleasure?”

  Rin smacked Benedict’s shoulder. “This little pup is here for the first time.”

  “Is he? He seems older than the rest.”

  “Late start,” Benedict admitted.

  Amelie opened two books. “You’ll probably want an enhancement or a power, given adventurer tendencies. Feel free to look through my catalogues.”

  “Could you explain these to me?”

  “Has Rin not done so?” She eyed the big warrior.

  “He hasn’t.”

  “Of course not. From the beginning, then. Long ago, the Monster Scourge began, and warriors of all kinds realized they were dramatically outmatched. If it weren’t for the most powerful of thaumaturges, the monsters may have wiped out humanity entirely. Soon, those same thaumaturges—,”

  “Not that far back, Amelie,” Rin said.

  Amelie cleared her throat and stood up. “Sorry. I put magic into your body, and you get power from it. An enhancement will change you in a specific and small way, while a power is something stronger you can use at will. What weapons do you use?”

  “What does that matter?” Benedict asked.

  “It affects what will work best for you. For example, Rin uses an axe, right? He does better with a strength enhancement that lets him cleave through enemies faster.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Benedict drew his sword from his coffer. The blade was about three feet long and slender. It wasn’t the strongest weapon around, but it did him well enough.

  “You’ll need to be quick and precise when taking on larger foes,” Amelie said, eyes darting between Benedict’s face and his blade. After a moment, she pointed out a description on a page for an enhancement called “quickness.” “This should do you well. You’ll have greater agility and react faster, so you can weave around monsters more easily for more precise strikes.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Also…” she flipped to a page in her power catalogue. “If you want to hurt your enemies more, I have this for you.”

  Benedict read the entry for “Viper’s Curse.” Summarized, he could apply a short-lived curse on a monster that would magnify the pain of every strike upon it for as long as it lasted.

  “What you’re suggesting is I stay away from a monster’s flailing while using this curse to cause it more pain than normal?” Benedict asked.

  “That’s the gist of it, yes.”

  “How much?”

  In a flash, Amelie held a pen and scratched at an empty piece of parchment. “The base fee applies, so twenty-five aur, then add to that the cost of your enhancement and power. In total, that comes out to two hundred fifteen aur.”

  Benedict drew out his wallet and removed the requisite coins. There went almost all of his recent earnings. He counted them out for Amelie to be sure, and she checked his math. After confirming the pay was correct, she invited him into the back room.

  Through a different door than she came out of was a room almost entirely empty save for a sofa, two chairs, and a single table. A book sat atop the table as the only decoration in the room. A chandelier above glowed with low light. Amelie directed Benedict to lay on the sofa, then grabbed the book.

  “Why do I feel like pain is coming?” Benedict groaned.

  “The process is just boring,” Rin said.

  Amelie didn’t look up from her book. “He’s right. I just need to find my formulas before we can proceed. There we go.”

  She planted herself firmly to the ground next to Benedict and held out her index finger. It glowed a dull blue as she used it to draw strange runes in the air in a wide circle. At the end of her drawing, the circle was about the size of a charger plate. She pinched it, and it changed into a glowing bubble that fit comfortably between her fingers. Then she placed it onto Benedict’s body. His fingers tightened into a fist, his legs seized up, and his heart pounded. Sweat covered his forehead. The world turned into a smear of pastels. In another instant, everything was back to normal.

  “That was a rush,” Benedict groaned, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

  “It only happens every time,” Amelie said.

  Rin chuckled. “Once you get everything you like, it never has to happen again.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Benedict groaned.

  Amelie started drawing another sigil. “Don’t be like that. You paid for one more.”

  Benedict thought he was ready for the next one. As his body seized again, he was sure the pain was even greater. It felt like it lasted longer, too! When it was over that time, he let himself fall into the sofa, limp. Thaumaturges could make even more money by inventing potions that took away the side effects, he thought. That would be a fantastic investment.

  “That’s what the sofa’s here for,” Amelie said, dabbing at Benedict’s forehead with a damp rag. “Just lay there a while and you’ll be in top shape for you next adventure.”

  “At which point, we should test your purchases out,” Rin suggested.

  “Going on the assumption I’ll be up for it, what did you have in mind?” Benedict asked.

  “A job, of course. It would have to be something with an opportunity to acclimate to your new abilities. Amelie, have you heard of anything recently?”

  Amelie smiled. “I may have something. A new Link appeared a day’s walk from here. I would like to attune to it.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” Benedict said.

  “You haven’t been there on your own?”

  “It’s in the Borath Fortress Ruins, and some goblins have set up there. I’ll need guards while I attune.”

  Benedict had encountered goblins before. They were incredibly intelligent and liked to set traps and ambushes for unfortunate adventurers encroaching on their lands. Not to mention they knew how to make primitive weapons and wield them. They also enjoyed stealing and using adventurers’ weapons.

  “I can’t let you do that,” Rin said.

  “It’s already been there two weeks! In another few days, it’s likely to be gone forever!” The thaumaturge stamped her foot like she was a teenager denied a boyfriend. “I’ll pay you well.”

  “This job will be expensive and dangerous.”

  “I’m a well-to-do thaumaturge. I can handle it.”

  “We’ll also need at least one more person. Benedict’s performance against goblins has so far been… lacking, and I can’t take on a large group by myself.”

  Benedict winced like he’d just been struck. Rin wasn’t wrong, though. His last encounter with a single goblin had ended with him on the ground, goblin trying to slam a club onto his face. Rin’s interference was all that kept him alive. That memory played through his head as they made out a quick flyer for the tavern’s job board.

  Adventurers buzzed about said tavern like insects. Benedict, Rin, and Amelie watched them from their table as the flitted about the job board. Despite the hefty reward—and there only being two other flyers—no one showed the slightest interest.

  “Maybe I should offer more money,” Amelie groaned.

  “Five hundred is more generou than anything else there,” Benedict said.

  “They probably don’t want to have to deal with goblins,” Rin said.

  Amelie placed her spellbook on the table and paged through it. “It’s not like we’re assaulting their hideout.”

  “Maybe we should have put that on the flyer.”

  Benedict kept watching everyone pass by their posting, until one person stopped and grabbed it. She was fairly short and slender, wearing a long, reddish brown vest tied together with a red belt, and black pants. A jet black braid lay against her back that whipped about when she turned. Given her face, she couldn’t have been older than seventeen. Her eyes fell upon the party’s table.

  “The art is subpar,” she complained. “Is this yours?”

  Amelie stood and cleared her throat. “Specifically, it’s mine.”

  The young woman sat across from Amelie. “I have some questions before I accept.”

  “Naturally. Ask me anything.”

  “What are the chances we’ll encounter goblins?”

  Amelie swallowed hard before she answered. “Near certain. The Llink is very close to their current camp.”

  “What is the plan to mitigate that danger?”

  “I have a wide range sleeping spell. If I can get to a high place, I can put them all out. My protection is there if something wakes up.”

  The young woman mulled the idea over in her head. “That sounds like a good tactic.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready for something like this?” Rin asked.

  She cut her eyes toward him. “Why do you ask?”

  “You are obviously quite young. We need someone experienced with these things.”

  “Don’t let my appearance fool you. I am quite experienced with various monsters and their tactics.” She looked at Benedict. “Certainly more than this one, I’d say.”

  “Hey,” Benedict complained.

  “Humor me with proof, if you have it,” Rin said.

  She reached to her coffer and drew out a medal. A close look revealed a draconian face in front of two crossed blades. Rin and Amelie both gaped at it.

  Amelie extended a hand. “You’re hired, Miss…”

  “Just call me Shiyo.” Their new party member shook Amelie’s hand and smiled. “I won’t haggle on price. I have prior business with these goblins. Settling that will be enough.”

  “And what is this business?”

  “They just have something of mine, and I want it back. When do we begin?”

  “First light,” Amelie said.

  Benedict looked Shiyo over again. She absolutely did not look like an adventurer able to do this. Then again, neither did he.