Sara flash-cast a serious wind spell in a state of blind panic. The spell may not have had blades, but it still launched me back with three hundred-mile winds. People screamed—but there was no need to worry. My aura barrier would’ve prevented the slightest damage, but I wanted to end the fight. So, I cast [wind barrier], and a cyclone of wind protected me from hitting the ward.

  Sara panicked when I released the spell. She rushed forward and caught my falling body in a princess carry, eyes shaking as they looked for wounds.

  “This is comfy,” I said, eyes closed.

  I startled her, making her scream, trip, and drop me. We both hit the ground at the same moment, leading to a brief silence before we burst into awkward laughter.

  “Well, I lost… I guess,” I said.

  “Liar,” she murmured.

  “You’re right—I wanted to buy you dinner.”

  “You jerk!” Sara slapped my arm and then chuckled again. I did the same. Soon, we were laughing, and that laughter didn’t stop during the class. Every time I caught sight of her, she’d giggle, and then I’d giggle, and it’d ruin my concentration. That, in turn, led to grumbles from rugged adventurers claiming that they “spent this month’s rent” on a clown class, as if it wasn’t two hours instead of one. Sara heard the grumbles and left the room, only for us to start laughing again once I joined her team at the table.

  Her party members were laughing, too. Lady Breast Wrap’s name was Nia—and she was quite the giggler. Archer and Tattoo Man were Tab and Rona, respectively. Tab introduced himself as Tahbintarai and insisted I use his real name, but everyone immediately said “Tab” afterward, telling him off. He brooded, decrying the inequity of everyone being called by their first name, while he was permanently labeled by a nickname. That restarted the laughter. Rona didn’t say much; he was the “strong silent type,” as Nia put it. Rona responded by calling her the “half-naked type,” and they broke out into a faux fight. It was a fun tease fest, and everyone was laughing—everyone but one.

  It was Rassan Corwin—and he was dead silent and glaring, hovering over the table like a storm cloud raining cooking knives.

  I glanced at him and back. “So anyway, you guys off for a mission or something?”

  “Yes, we are,” Rassan said, glancing at the other four.

  “At a minimum,” Nia said.

  Rassan turned away. “You don’t even know if he has external enchantments.”

  Sara rolled her eyes with the others—but no one contradicted him.

  “See?” he asked.

  “Look, we’re not here to recruit him, he’s leaving next week, Jack,” Tab said. He glanced at me. “Forgive him. He broke the conditions to stay on the team, so he's rightfully nervous we're gonna kick ‘em. That said, that’s a him problem, not a you problem. Second off, don't worry about a recruitment pitch. We already know your situation.”

  Nia nodded. “You're on a journey, right?”

  I matched her nod. “That's right. I'm investigating the source of the miasma.”

  “Well, then it sounds like you'll be searching a long time,” Rona said.

  “And that'll be expensive,” Tab added.

  “Like your dinner date with Sara,” Nia finished. “She's pri~cy.”

  “Nia!” Sara snapped.

  Nia cowered playfully, shielding her head with her hands. “And has standards.”

  Sara folded her arms, pursed her lips, and turned away, only to find herself staring at me. Her panic skyrocketed, and she looked down, smoothing her hair while avoiding eye contact. “Ah… so. Yeah. Anyway, we were wondering if you wanted to do the cull with us,” she whispered. “Pick up some funds for your trip?”

  “Wait…” I said, looking between them in surprise. “Are you inviting me on a hunt?”

  “Yeah, now that you’re officially a platinum-rank adventurer, you can join us,” Sara said, glancing at the insignia Emilia had given me just that morning.

  “Yeah, but… why me?”

  Tab laughed. Rona’s quiet mask cracked a grin, and Nia smirked.

  “What do you mean, why?” Sara asked hurriedly. “You’re extremely strong. And besides, this is Platinum Star, and there’s not… a lot of platinums. So we need people.”

  “That’s true,” Nia said, smirk fading. “Rassan’s not even a platinum—it really is rare.”

  Rassan trembled in shame.

  “And, it’s not uncommon to party up,” Tab continued, “especially during major quests. This really is normal."

  “I see…” I looked between them nervously. “Well, I’d love to. Unfortunately… I can’t join a party. I’m leaving Amia next week.”

  “We know,” Nia said. “This is just a four-day trip. Sara’s actually leaving next week, too, so you can rest assured—it’ll be in and out.”

  My stomach sank, and I found myself turning to Sara slowly. “Wait… you’re going on a trip? Where?”

  “Oh!” Sara perked up. “I’m…” Her animated eyes suddenly dimmed as if she were prepared to express something exciting, only for a crushing revelation to hit her. “Just a small trip,” she said hesitantly. “I’ll be back in a few weeks, no matter what, so…”

  The others exchanged confused glances, and everything became slightly uncomfortable. Sara noticed their expressions and panicked. She slapped the table and stood. “If you had plans, you now don't. You owe me dinner and I'm going on the road. That means you have to come with us.”

  “But… how are we supposed to go to dinner if we’re—”

  “We’ll figure it out on the way,” Tab interrupted, smirking slightly. “What do you say?”

  Two hours later, I found myself sitting in the back of a “pickup truck,” the open wagon equivalent of the elusive “automobile.” It was uncomfortable as hell, but they let me sit in a corner with my pack against the wall, and the summer weather was divine. So, I relaxed, swapping stories with the others.

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  “Not treated brass on nickel!” Tab cried, covering his eyes as he roared with laughter. “I’d have paid to see his face. It’d be priceless.”

  “Right?” Nia said. “You pretty much said, ‘Money’s for peasants!’ and walked away.”

  “Well, it is,” I said, shrugging playfully.

  “Well it is…” Nia leaned into her corner, eyes drifting to the sky as she chuckled. “Boy… boy, boy, boy. It’s so hard to believe you’re from a cabin. You’re just so—”

  “Full of shit,” Rassan interrupted. “The act’s unbearable.”

  Those words jammed a steel pipe through the wheels of the conversation, grinding it to a hard stop. It was suddenly very silent because it needed to be silent—because the only words available were ones that would spark conflict. So, instead, we turned our attention outward, watching the breeze comb through a dense field of purple flowers.

  Sara suddenly moved, patting her thighs twice.

  “Forget something?” I asked.

  “No.” She reached into a pocket, glanced at me, and then suddenly fell silent, leaning back, as if she had changed her mind about something.

  “Oh no,” Nia said. “You’ve committed.”

  Sara glanced at me and away before hesitantly pulling out her hand. She was holding a beautiful silver pocket watch, polished and new, reflecting sunlight like a dulled mirror. Tab, Rona, and Rassan all eyed it with interest—clearly unaware she had it.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  She hesitantly offered it to me. “It’s a… gift.”

  I slowly craned my head toward Sara, finding her grotesquely mortified, as if she had done something monumental—forbidden even.

  “I’m… I’m sorry to question this,” I prefaced, “but… this isn’t one of those customs where you accept a chair and find yourself betrothed to the chieftain's daughter, is it?”

  Tab paused and then roared with laughter.

  “Of course it isn’t!” Sara snapped. “It’s a gift, idiot! A normal gift!”

  “Hey, I’m sorry!” I threw up my hands, watch’s chain dangling in surrender. “It’s just… you look like you were doing something forbidden there for a second.”

  “Maaaaan,” Tab groaned, rubbing his eyes as Sara covered her eyes with her palms. “Every time I think you’re lyin’ about being born in a barn, you go off and prove how inept you are.”

  I hoped Nia would be sympathetic: she was glowering at me.

  “I’m… I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just…” My eyes drifted to the watch, slightly emotional. “It’s just so hard to believe you’d give me something so… precious. Just… out of nowhere. It’s just too… special.” I turned my attention to Sara, who had lifted her palms to glance at me. “Can I?” I pointed at the latch to open it.

  She lowered her palms to face me head-on. “Yeah.”

  I squeezed the case, and it clicked open, exposing those familiar twelve numerals. My mind flashed to Sara guiding my fingers to trace them.

  “Well?” Nia asked.

  “It's striking,” I whispered. Sara's eyes warmed like sunlight spreading over a small meadow. Rassan saw that look, and he snarled, eyes wrought with black emotions.

  It made me uncomfortable, but I was too busy with the watch to pay attention. I was captivated by it. I put it to my ear to listen to the tick—activated [astral gaze] to watch the cogs spin. Most of all, I focused on the strange pin in the center; it had a ward that merely protected the pin. It was fascinating and impractical and kinda cool.

  “You really do like it, don’t you?” Sara said, giggling at my childish expression.

  “Swooning.”

  She smiled, watching me for a moment before her eyes lit up. “Oh! I forgot to mention how it works. Here, I’ll show you how to wind it.”

  Without warning, she scooted beside me, thigh touching thigh as she lifted the watch and explained it. I asked questions; she answered them. Then, I asked more, purely unnecessary, just to keep her beside me. She answered those, too, and soon we were in our own little world.

  It was nice. If Rassan’s dark gaze wasn’t fixed on us, it would’ve been perfect.

  ***

  We were about twenty miles east of Morinville on the edge of the Hangland Forest when we reached our location. It was a sprawling forest about five miles from the road we were dropped off at. From where we were, the trees’ canopies made a thin line in the moonlight, and when they contrasted against the pale dirt and sprawling plain of dry brush between here and there, they eerily looked like hair on a man’s head.

  “Let’s just stay here,” Tab groaned. “My legs are aching from that ride.”

  “Can’t,” Rona said. “No fire means no food. And I’m not eating jerky if I don’t need to.”

  “Same,” Sara followed. “That trip to Ika was brutal.”

  The group groaned collectively, as if sharing a brutal memory.

  “Uh…” I hummed hesitantly, and they turned to me in unison. “Sorry, but… is firewood the only issue? Because if it is, we can just… use magic?” I flash cast a horizontal sigil, and a campfire lit in the sky.

  “Wait… what the fuck?” Nia cried.

  “Right?” Tab said. “That was way too casual.”

  “And weird,” Rona added. “What is that?”

  Suddenly, the group was captivated by the strange, glowing lines beneath the floating fire.

  “It’s a sigil…” I said, lowering my head to look at it, eying it to make sure they weren’t seeing something else. “I take it you’re not familiar with them?”

  “No…” Sara whispered, eying it in wonder.

  “Oh, well… they’re just a spell, but as you can see, they’re persistent.” I lowered the fire a few inches above the high grass to prevent a brush fire. “You’re essentially fixing a normal spell in a set location. It’s pretty simple, too. All you do is add the runes necessary to activate a spell into a circle and then cast the spell within it.” I snuffed the fire and added the runes for levitation and fixation. Then, a thin fire spread across it, and when I put a pan on it, it floated in place. “See?”

  “Hey, hey!” Tab cried. “I have no idea what you just did, but I’m way too hungry to care. Can we talk about this after dinner?”

  The others agreed, and soon we were eating bowls of canned “chili” around the campfire I created. Everyone was moaning from the food, but Sara had barely touched hers. She stared into the fire, flames illuminating her curiosity.

  I lowered my spoon and turned to her. “Do you… want me to teach you how to do it?” I asked.

  She whirled to face me, her irises dancing in the firelight. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Absolutely.”

  —Sara—

  Sara felt so much wonder when her waving finger left those hypnotic, glowing trails that she didn’t even notice that Kalas had been holding her hand. Surprisingly, she didn’t pull away when she realized it. He was… comforting. She felt safe with him and loved the way he taught her, creating simple yet impactful demonstrations. She giggled when he’d create campfires upside down, or do something strange and tell a crazy story about it.

  (I love this.)

  Sara did. She didn’t “like” Kalas; it was way too early for that. But she enjoyed spending time with him and wished she could see where their strange tension would take them.

  (But…)

  Things were complicated.

  Sara suddenly stopped drawing an ice sigil, staring at mid-air with a blank expression. It was as if that simple intrusive thought snuffed the flame within her heart—casting her warm emotions into darkness.

  “Is everything alright?” Kalas asked.

  Nia slapped her legs and said, “I should make my bed.”

  “Good call,” Rona said.

  Tab stood and turned to Rassan. “You too.”

  Rassan tried to ignore him, but Nia and Rona glowered at him. He bared his teeth at Kalas before entering the tent.

  “What’s wrong?” Kalas asked, glancing at the tent. “Did I… do something wrong?”

  “No!” Sara cried, louder than she meant to. Her voice lowered. “It’s just…”