“The first part won’t be too bad,” Sentry said, refilling her wine as she watched the other two. “The Clear Eyes are a weak Faction, and I doubt their security is anything to write home about. If you can conceal yourself as well as you claim…” Sentry’s paused for a heartbeat, skepticism tinging her words, before shrugging, “then you should be able to get inside fairly easily.”

  “Yeah. It should work,” Nate said aloud.

  You’re sure this will work? he asked internally.

  I have told you I can conceal us. It will work, if we are careful.

  Nate didn’t like having to rely on the promises of his creepy tattoo. He didn’t like acknowledging Trini’s presence at all. He had been ignoring the spider and everything its presence might mean as best he could since escaping the ravine. But the small numbers in the top corner of his vision, the countdown to zero, was a constant reminder that things had changed. More importantly, without Trini’s promised aid, none of this would work.

  “I have a question,” Christophe murmured around yet another mouthful some kind of sweet pastry. “If the Clear Eyes are so weak, then why are they one of the three Factions that seem to have all the power in Dawn?”

  “Because they got lucky,” Sentry answered, shaking her head. “Each of the three holds their influence because they control an important resource. The Burning Brand controls the docks. Omen controls the farmland to the South. The Clear Eyes have something else. Something a bit more unique.”

  “What is it?” Christophe asked with a gulp, already reaching for another pastry.

  “It’s what Nate is going to sneak in and grab. After that, we need to get him into the docks.”

  Getting out of the Clear Eyes compound had been anticlimactic, the only challenge coming in the form of the burden that Nate had been forced to carry rather gingerly. He was bathed in cold sweat by the time he was clear of the outer walls, but Trini’s concealment had continued to work as advertised, and he had never come as close to discovery again as when the two guards had almost stumbled on him at the balcony. The sweat running down the small of his back wasn’t from the fear of discovery, though. It was fear of what might happen if he dropped his pilfered treasures.

  He was still moving a bit nervously now, though he had been somewhat reassured by Sentry’s promise that the small parcels carefully wrapped in his backpack were safe for the moment. Christophe had been able to link to the devices somehow, and they were now apparently under his control. Nate didn’t completely trust those promises. But he didn’t have much choice.

  He peeked down from the top of a building on the edge of town, watching the nearby docks. A few orcs were on patrol, their movements easy to track, even from a distance, in the baleful light of the nearly full moon above. But the moon wasn’t the only source of light.

  The docks were a simple affair, a handful of wooden jetties extending out into the almost glass smooth water. It was a section of the city Nate hadn’t ventured to before, and so this was his first real glimpse of the Dawn Lake, an impressive of reflective distance that disappeared in the distance, framed only by mountains and cliffs forming the edge of the valley. Sentry had explained to him that the lake itself was surprisingly shallow, never more than 20 feet deep, but vast, stretching beyond the boundaries of the valley into the mysterious land beyond. The rules governing the Valley of Dawn covered the waterways as well, with an invisible barrier halting anyone not authorized to pass at the edge of the domain. But there were some odd exceptions.

  Two long, narrow ships lay anchored at the docks. They were made of a pale wood like nothing Nate had ever seen. Even in the bright light of the moon, it was clear that the ships themselves were luminous, casting a cold, pale glow over the scene all around them. The patrols of orcs were thickest near the ships. But nothing moved on the surface of those ships themselves. The ships had no crews, after all, propelled through the water by some unknown magic, arriving at regular intervals laden with supplies for Dawn’s inhabitants. They drew up to the docks, waited patiently while they were unloaded, then disappeared back across the lake.

  It was a creation of the System, there since time immemorial, keeping the new Travelers of Dawn fed and supplied while they learned the intricacies of their new home. It was also meant to be a free resource, managed by Dawn’s civil authorities. But that hadn’t been the case for a long time. A constantly rotating series of groups had seized control of the docks, with the Burning Brand only the latest. Like so much else in the city, the rules of the System had been subverted, made to serve the interests of the Factions that now dominated the place.

  Nate took a deep breath, trying to center himself. He needed his wits about him for this next part, far more dangerous than infiltrating the Clear Eyes encampment. He sought his center, searching for the serene pool of calm at his core. It was a trick that normally came easily, but tonight it was hard. For one thing, he was tired. Tired in a way that he hadn’t experienced yet in Dawn. His body felt heavy, his mind sluggish.

  For another, his thoughts were churning with new discoveries. It was a night for disturbing revelations.

  “Hey, you leveled up again!” Christophe exclaimed, interrupting Nate and Sentry’s discussion of the plan.

  “What are you talking about?” Nate asked, confused, quickly checking his display to find nothing changed. But then he saw that Christophe’s gaze was firmly fixed on Sentry. Nate, too, glanced at the woman.

  He had gotten used to ignoring the identifying script that popped up over the head of anyone he stared at for too long. It was distracting and rarely useful. But he focused on it now, quickly seeing what had caught Christophe’s attention.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  {Sentry          Class: Warrior, Level 5       Race: Human}

  “I’ve been making almost daily trips out of the city,” Sentry said with a shrug. “As I’ve said before, I’d be happy to bring you with me, Nate. Adding a few levels would give you a power bump that would make all of this easier.”

  “That’s impressive growth!” Christophe exclaimed, saving Nate from making yet another excuse for avoiding Sentry’s invitations. “Nate and I both gained a level after the ravine. That’s more than I expected to get in the first year. Still, its going to take us a while to get to 10 at this rate.”

  Nate had been annoyed at Christophe’s interruption, eager to continue working on the plan. But these words brought him up short.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Nate asked, looking at Christophe in confusion. “What was that about a year?”

  Christophe sighed and gave a sad nod.

  “Ambitious, I know. But that was the goal I set myself. When I came in, my goal was to hit level 2 before the end of my first year here. Then I wanted to stick to that pace as long as I could. I know things tend to slow down after level 5, but I want to push myself as much as I can. The sooner I can join the hunt for the Jewels, the better!”

  Nate stared at his friend for a long moment, his mouth open. He turned to Sentry, expecting to find the same incredulous look on her face. But the woman only smiled.

  “That is an ambitious goal,” she said, sending Nate’s mind reeling further, “though not as outlandish as you might think. Some of my Factions oldest records state that in the early days of Farandway, Travelers advanced through their starter levels much more quickly. Things were different then, though. The city was less of a safe haven, and Travelers pushed themselves to advance quickly. It’s why I’ve been leveling so aggressively. I’m hoping to hit level 10 before my first anniversary here.”

  “That would be incredible!” Christophe exclaimed, his eyes wide with admiration. Nate’s mouth was only just catching up with his scrambling thoughts.

  “What are you two talking about?” he finally managed to splutter out. “I’ve seen loads of high level people all over the city. It can’t be that hard to move up.”

  Sentry gave Nate a sharp look, and some of that predatory gleam he had first noticed in her gaze was there. It made the hairs on the back of Nate’s neck rise, and he was certain he had said something very stupid.

  Christophe saved him.

  “Nate is from a real backwater,” Christophe said. “His world doesn’t prepare new Travelers the way most do. There’s a lot he doesn’t know.”

  There was something in Christophe’s tone, an uncharacteristic restraint that hinted at words unspoken. Nate had no idea what the little mage was hinting at, but Sentry apparently did. Her gaze softened to something else. Something that looked a bit like pity.

  “None of those high level individuals you have seen are from the same intake group as any of us,” Sentry explained. “Many of them have been here a while. A long while. Particularly those at level 10. In theory, they should leave the valley when they reach that point. But most don’t. 10ers are usually members of Factions, and those that aren’t don’t have any problem finding employment with one. They stay here, where it is comfortable and safe.” The last words came out with a derisive snort.

  “How long?” Nate asked. “How long does it take to reach the level cap?”

  “Oh, it varies a lot,” Christophe jumped in, eager to help with the explanation. “Some never reach Level 10. But I think most that do get there is twenty or thirty years.”

  “Longer, for some,” Sentry added, not noticing the way Nate’s eyes bugged at the news. “And many of the 10ers have been here much longer than that. Some may have arrived in Dawn more than a century ago.”

  “A century?” Nate said, his voice strangled. “But how? I haven’t seen anyone that old?”

  Again, Sentry gave that sharp look for a moment, but something flickered between her and Christophe, and she settled.

  “Time is different here, Nate,” Christophe said gently, as though explaining something to a child. “No one really ages in Farandway. At least, not like they do on the outside.”

  Nate took another steadying breath. The conversation with Christophe and Sentry had shaken something inside of him, something he hadn’t known was there. He had spent his time in Farandway moving from task to task, ignoring the larger questions about his situation in favor of watching the ground right in front of him. It was a well-worn survival strategy, compartmentalizing his worries and ignoring those he couldn’t do anything to address in the moment. But the revelation about how long he might expect to spend in Dawn has rattled something loose, and he was having a hard time putting it back.

  And he was so fucking tired.

  Looking for a distraction, Nate pulled up his information, checking to see if he might be suffering some status affliction he wasn’t aware of. He didn’t really expect to find anything. So, he was surprised when he did.

  {Rogue          Level 2             HP: 20/20 MP: 1/7

  Stats

  Strength: 5

  Constitution: 5             Free Points: 0

  Dexterity: 15             Available Skill Points: 0

  Willpower: 7

  Intelligence: 6

  Charisma: 8

  Attribute: System Blessed

  Status Affliction: Mana Fatigue}

  “What the hell?” Nate muttered. His mana had increased during his last level-up, and it didn’t take much work to realize it was tied to the free points he had put into willpower. But the point had been purely academic, as Nate still didn’t have anything he could actually do with his mana, possessing no spells or skills that used magic. Yet 6 of his available mana points had gone somewhere. What had happened?

  There is a cost to my concealment charm, Trini’s dainty voice echoed in Nate’s mind. He groaned.

  “You’re steal my mana?” he asked aloud.

  You are alive, and the cost was low. Why do you whine?

  “I’m not whining,” Nate grumbled. “It would have been nice if you told me first, though. I feel like shit now.”

  Your mana will regenerate in time.

  Nate had a few other choice words in mind, but he suppressed them, knowing the odd spider would be able to hear his thoughts. Trini was another of tugging anxieties he was doing his best to keep in the background, but he knew he couldn’t do it for much longer. He needed to get a handle on what exactly Trini was, and what her presence meant for him.

  With a final sigh, Nate pushed away his exhaustion and focused on the task ahead. He would move up the shore a ways before moving into the docks. He would have to get wet. But the odds of discovery looked low. The orcs were numerous, but they weren’t particularly alert. It was clear they didn’t think there were any real threats to their position. It should only take a few minutes for Nate to leave them a few of the gifts he had acquired from the Clear Eyes earlier. Then it would be time for the final phase of the night.