“May I confess something to you, Mr. Hans?” The merchant said, shuffling half a step to be fully under the shade of a Gomi tree. In this heat, any relief was worth pursuing. “I looked into you when we first began doing business together.”

  “Find anything interesting?”

  “Perhaps. I do not wish you to think less of me, however.”

  Hans laughed. “You won’t have found anything I don’t already know.”

  After a pause to fully consider his next words, the merchant continued, saying, “I was led to believe you were not wealthy, yet you outspend a few of the noble families I serve. It is said that you were neither a successful adventurer nor a successful teacher, yet you are also known as Master Devontes’ primary instructor. We all live our own contradictions, Mr. Hans, but if Mayor Charlie wasn’t here to confirm it, I might have thought I was doing business with an entirely different person.”

  “Adventurers gossip more than anyone I’ve met,” Hans said. “Why are you sharing this now? Did something happen?”

  “Indeed. I collected my first finder’s fee from Doorstop. It was much larger than I anticipated. Far larger, actually. As your business partner, I felt it was important to share both my gratitude and my perspective, and before I could even do that, you handed me an order for more books than my wagons can carry. I wish for our partnership to continue for many years.”

  Hans wasn’t sure that partnership was the right word, but he didn’t dispute the merchant’s characterization. He shared that he was pleased with their business thus far and that he too wished to keep that trend going.

  “Thank you, Mr. Hans. I have your book order as well as your inquiry for a ‘lockpick training box.’ My men delivered your packages to the guild hall the moment we arrived, and I saw to it you got your mail. How else might I serve you before my journey back begins?”

  As far as business went, Hans could think of no more to discuss. He did, however, want to hear the latest news from the kingdom, with particular regard to the orc war.

  “You’ve been around about as long as I have. You know how these things go. A war is ‘won,’ yet battles continue. Lots of folks are still getting attacked by bands of orcs pretty far from the main fighting. Trade is picking back up though, so it’s not all bad.”

  Thanking the merchant for his help, Hans excused himself before spinning back around again a footstep later. “I nearly forgot,” he said. “Do you know anyone with a printing press?”

  Quest Update: Await the delivery of lockpick training tools.

  A footlocker sat on the floor next to Hans’ desk in the guild hall. As soon as he saw it, he pictured it full of Haynu books. And he hoped a few books on the Cleric class were in there too, but really he was most excited to pass the summer heat with his favorite stories. If he paced himself, he might even have a few left to read over the winter. Olza did say he should slow down.

  Before he treated himself to his new treasures, he sat at his desk. He had one piece of guild mail to read, but oddly enough, he didn’t fear its contents. As far as anyone could tell, the fake dungeon ruse worked, and nothing had happened that could have jeopardized that.

  He broke the seal and read:

  Hans,

  Theneesa said that your insight was instrumental in protecting tusk citizens from the war. With your help, Guild mages are distributing a stationary ward to every village in the kingdom. It’s a monumental effort, and Gomi was lowest on the priority list. I argued on your behalf, however, and Gomi’s should be delivered by the fall at the latest.

  I confess that I was the one who lobbied against Golds as Guild Masters. If Theneesa hadn’t shown me the scale of my error, the accusations against Gret would have.

  I had no part in the investigation, and I continue to urge the Guild to look elsewhere for their thief. Gret was loyal to the Guild, and his loyalty was pure. You and I both know Gret would have never acted against the Guild. It’s an insult to his sacrifice to accuse him of such a crime.

  I am grateful for Gret’s role in my success, and I am grateful for yours as well. In another life, we would have parted on better terms.

  -Grandmaster Devontes

  Hoseki Chapter

  Hans realized he had held his breath for three readthroughs of the letter. His heart pounded, and his stomach twisted. He set the letter on the desk, leaned back, and looked around the guild hall. The guild hall wasn’t empty very often these days, but Hans was glad it was empty now. He couldn’t imagine the look on his own face, and he preferred it that way.

  He read the letter again another dozen times, searching for hidden meanings or implications but found none.

  When he heard children outside in the training yard, he realized he had sat at his desk, staring at the letter for far too long. He put it in a drawer and went outside to keep the little ones from beating on each other too much.

  Olza and Hans sat by a small fire a ways away from Gomi’s back gate. They watched the sunset and the stars rise, sipping at Gomi beer.

  She had read Devon’s letter several times over as well. She held it now, reading it yet again.

  “‘Grandmaster’ Devontes?” she asked.

  Hans shrugged. “Must be a new title. I’ve never heard of the Guild using it before now.”

  “Good for him, I guess,” Olza said. “The rest of this feels kind of like an apology. Maybe as close to one as you’ll ever get.”

  Hans nodded.

  “The part about Gret is weird though. He’s lying, right? Or is that naive?”

  “Devon’s a lot of things, but he’s not a liar. He’s always been an optimist, so I think he means what he wrote. Gret was good to him, so a betrayal doesn’t make sense in his mind. Maybe optimism and naivety go hand in hand? The world was always black and white for Devon.”

  Olza nodded, her eyes still locked on the letter, reading it yet again by firelight. “I’m curious what they devised for the orc wards though. Why does he call it ‘stationary,’ though? Aren’t most wards stationary?”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Hans explained that she wasn’t the only one who found the vocabulary unusual. For some reason, the mages who established Hoseki’s wards described them as “stationary wards,” and that label had persisted since. Yes, it didn’t make sense because nearly all wards were stationary by default, but that’s what Hoseki’s wards had been called since their inception. As far as he knew, those were the only wards ever described that way.

  The way Hans read the letter, he presumed the wards delivered to villages would follow the Hoseki design: Large, self-replenishing, and meant to blanket a wide area.

  He saw the Hoseki wards in person by luck when he was Iron. A Diamond Bard asked him to fetch a package from the central guard station, and one of those guards was feeling generous. He took Hans to the back to see the legendary stationary wards of Hoseki. Those wards prevented Curse spells from being cast but did not nullify existing curses. If necromancy or summoning magic was done within the city, the wards would detect it.

  Some parents told their children that the stationary wards surrounded Hoseki with a protective shield to keep out monsters. That wasn't actually possible, but that lie comforted more than a few scared children.

  And the wards were simple carved rocks. Big rocks, yes, but otherwise wholly unremarkable to look at. The big rocks had runes. The runes looked like scribbles on cave walls. Nothing glowed or sparked or hummed.

  Distributing a mess of those around the kingdom was not a small undertaking, but tattooing every citizen using Blood magic enchantments wasn't exactly simple either.

  “So they didn’t use enchanted tattoos to counteract the possession,” Olza said. “Interesting.”

  “How do you think they did it?”

  The alchemist passed the letter back to Hans. “Beats me. Ask Honronk maybe? At this point, he knows far more about enchanting than I ever will.” After a time, she asked, “Am I wrong to take that letter as good news?”

  “When I saw his name at the bottom, I braced for the worst. You know that sick feeling? Overwhelmed me immediately. But yeah, unless Devon became a master of subterfuge in the last two years, it looks like Gomi is of no interest to anyone right now.”

  “Will you write back?” Olza asked.

  Active Quest: Mend the rift with Devon.

  If I really wanted to mend the rift, I would write back.

  “I don’t know what’d I say,” Hans answered.

  “Sounds like he didn't either.”

  “That may be true, yes.”

  “You have plenty of time to think about it,” Olza added. “Guild mail has been pretty busy this year, but you still have a whole month. Or however long you need, really.”

  Guild mail was slow, but messages seemed to arrive in tighter intervals this year than the last. Hans wagered that Hoseki leadership was doing much of their business from the road in light of the orc conflict. They were likely part of the effort to hunt down the remaining bands of orcs that still moved in secret within the kingdom’s borders.

  Those leaders were unlikely to be “close” to Gomi in any meaningful way, but they could be closer than the Capital. That was the only way to explain the swiftness of the mail. He supposed they could be using carrier pigeons, but that was more unlikely. Intelligent enemies like orcs or bandits were known to target pigeons to gather intel, so carrier pigeons fell out of use. The Guild preferred important messages to pass from hand to hand.

  “Can I ask a favor?” Hans leaned forward to look Olza in the eyes.

  “Yes…”

  “I appreciate you being supportive, but I’d prefer not to talk about my taking another Diamond quest.”

  “Okay… Can I ask why?”

  “I can’t do it.”

  “Because of that ‘oh you can’t promote yourself’ nonsense Izz and Thuz were talking about?”

  Hans smiled at her impression of the brothers, even though it was more grumpy old guy than lizardman. “No, that’s not it. You were right that I need to slow down, and I think part of that is accepting my reality. I tried to get Diamond. I failed. Olza, I wish you had known me back then. I was young. I was in peak condition. Hells, I was unstoppable. I felt that good with a sword in my hand. I was better looking too.”

  “That’s hard to believe.”

  “What do you–”

  “It’s hard to imagine you ever being good looking.”

  The Guild Master gave the alchemist a deep sigh.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of this. You really believe it’s out of reach forever?”

  He nodded. “When I had long term students, people like Devon and Theneesa, a big part of the deal was that I had veto power over their job selections. If they were considering a job that I felt was a bad fit, and I said they shouldn’t take it, they had to listen to me. No arguments.”

  Olza asked why.

  “A bunch of adventurer deaths come from parties taking the wrong jobs. That could mean they weren't ready for the challenge, or that could mean they weren't a good matchup for whatever problems they would encounter. Anyone was welcome to take my classes, but if you wanted my one-on-one attention, those were the terms.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah. If we weren't talking about me, I'd say it's a bad idea for me to try again. The adventurer's ability doesn't meet the demands of the job. Did we ever talk about rank attrition rates?”

  Olza shook her head.

  “This wasn't an ultra in-depth study, but I ran the numbers on a decade of Hoseki promotions one time. Almost half of students make it from Apprentice to Iron. Twenty percent of those students make it to Bronze. Then ten percent of those get to Silver. And then the next ten percent make it to Gold. The attrition is mostly people washing out, but injury and death affect those numbers too.”

  “Wow.”

  “I've seen it happen first hand, and those students who washout? Most of them were good students and good people. They trained hard. They did what they were told. Some people go farther than others. Some don’t. Just because I want something doesn't mean I get to be the exception.”

  “But–”

  “Olza…”

  “Okay, okay. The situation made me sad for you, and I thought maybe we had a chance to change that.”

  Hans looked up at the stars. “To be honest, I did too. The manual for finding Diamond quests falls in our laps? Gods. That's like out of a story.”

  Olza listened quietly.

  “I'm fine. Really. I got pretty far, and I'm still alive. Sometimes you fail. That's just how it is.”

  When Hans looked back down, he saw Olza reaching for his hand. She squeezed and offered him a sad smile. He squeezed back. They sat in silence until the fire burned down to a few weak coals.

  Active Quest: Progress from Gold-ranked to Diamond-ranked.

  Be mature about this. Close it for good.

  Do it.

  Come on, rip the arrow out. Get it over with, and move on.

  Close it.

  Gods damn it, Hans. Close the quest.

  …

  “Fuck.”

  Open Quests (Ordered from Old to New):

  Progress from Gold-ranked to Diamond-ranked.

  Mend the rift with Devon.

  Complete the next volume (Iron to Bronze) for "The Next Generation: A Teaching Methodology for Training Adventurers."

  Find a way for Gomi adventurers to benefit from their rightful ranks in the Adventurers’ Guild.

  Secure a way to use surplus dungeon inventory for good.

  Finish transcribing the manual and decide on the next course of action.

  Help Izz and Thuz bring new opportunities to their home village.

  Investigate the locations of old Diamond Quests.

  Await the delivery of lockpick training tools.