Weeks passed. Lios grew. Darren had him working on a chainmaille shirt now, a tedious but important task. The boy was learning plenty, even as he ignored some of the mutterings from other apprentices. They all took note of how quickly Darren was letting Lios join actual projects, despite them all being grunts for a number of years before being trusted with the same things.

  He had even managed to see Rose a few times, despite her supposed fiancé’s demands that they leave each other alone. Both he and Rose ignored it, and he knew she was hoping Ethan would lose interest so that she wouldn’t have to marry him anymore.

  Today was one of Lios’s days off. He worked full time at the forge now, no longer splitting his time between the barracks and the smithy. He, his father, and Darren had all agreed it would be best for him to no longer split his focus given Lios’s ambitions. Of course, even if it was a day off, that didn’t mean the boy could afford to be lazy. That he could afford not to train.

  And so, beneath the spring sun, with dew licking his feet, he danced and cycled between a half dozen dances. He didn’t cast any of them, just let them reach their conclusion without pouring the appropriate mana into them. There was something calming about these dances, something meditative.

  He found peace in the movements, something he hadn’t imagined when he began his path.

  Evidently, there was no reason to be so surprised. Almost as though the concept of finding it so peaceful were expected, a notification rang as he danced about. The sound of it, the gentle ding, nearly startled him from his meditation, but he held on until the dance was complete through effort of will.

  Sweat dripped down his back despite the cool spring air. Even with the sun beating down on him, the morning air was no warmer than fifty degrees Fahrenheit if he had to guess. The twin foxes lazily watched from the side, cuddling together.

  Before taking a look at his notifications, though curiosity was tempting him, he skipped over to the well and poured some water down his throat. His thirst took priority over random dings.

  Then, it was time to check what he had gotten. A part of him was hoping it was a new class skill. The ones he had were wonderful, of course, but he was under the impression that after level twenty-five he would get another, and had yet to see one. Being level 28 now, having only gained a few since choosing his class, he was meant to have gotten one a few levels ago. Perhaps I didn’t qualify?

  With this hope in mind, he finally turned his attention to the blue screen, the text that had nearly interrupted his morning training. A touch of nerves struck him at the same time. Aside from skill level updates, he had not checked his status or notifications in a long while.

  Congratulations, you have gained a new skill!

  [Meditative Movement] LVL:1

  [Meditative Movement]: While dancing, your connection to the world and yourself reaches its peak. You become one with the world around you, capable of clearing your mind and absorbing the energies of the world. Rejoice, young Bladedancer, for rare is he who can move while reaching serenity. While dancing, enter a state of calm and clear your mind.

  Alexilios had theorized that meditation could be a skill, a way to absorb additional energies from the world. Already with [Mana Sense] he was able to perceive the ambient wisps of mana, at least a little. He knew he wasn’t seeing all of them, only the most prevalent, but also knew that should he attempt to now, he might even be able to draw them into himself.

  Also of note, the skill slotted into one of his empty class skills. With it pulling into the class, he understood he would be given another option, should he qualify, when he reached level fifty. At the same time, he could choose a new class as well and clear up a bunch of skill slots for new general skills. He had some ideas regarding what to fill them with, but at this rate it would be some time before he gained the requisite levels to even be remotely concerned with such thoughts.

  Eager to test his new skill, the boy raised his spear and began a dance. This one would coat his spear with flames, only the head of it, for he did not have the appropriate level of control to prevent himself from burning. He stopped thinking about how he was moving and nearly instantly fell into a calm meditative state. Subconsciously, he realized he could sense more of those flickering wisps of mana.

  In no time at all, he completed the spell, this time casting it and emptying some of his mana pool. He knew roughly how much time it would take to refill naturally, about half an hour for the small spell — but noticed it was filling rapidly as he moved on to another dance. This one was a wind burst. Blades of wind emerged around him and shot outward with the intention of pushing away enemies.

  A small whirlwind shot out from around him, slicing the grass. He had no idea how strong the burst of wind was, nor how viable it was as a spell, but that didn’t matter at that moment. All that mattered was his newest skill. Again, he felt himself regain mana much faster than anticipated.

  While dancing, he activated [Mana Sense], which in turn cost some mana, and felt as different mana flowed toward him. It wasn’t quick by any means, but it ambled his way, anyway. With his mediocre perception, he felt as warm mana was pulled in his direction. He hadn’t noticed it without his senses active, but it was almost hot to the touch as it met his body. With him moving, it almost seemed to swirl around and wrap him like a blanket, rather than flow into a single point of his body. Then, it swiftly absorbed into him, refilling his mana reserves.

  The realization and the activating of the second skill almost pulled him from the meditation, but he held onto it just barely. Somehow he managed to maintain a level focus, resulting in a few dings that were quickly pushed to the wayside.

  Another dance, the most difficult of them if only because lightning was more difficult to harness than fire or wind, and electricity replaced fire at the end of his spear. There wasn’t as much electrical energy around him, but he still pulled in both wind and fire mana, as well as seemingly aspect-less mana, to refill his reserves over the next several minutes.

  Once he had done so, he stopped moving, taking a deep steady breath. Normally it would take nearly an hour to refill that much mana... this time, it had only taken around fifteen total minutes of dancing to refill his reserves. At the same time, he had gained a half dozen skill levels in his new skill and a couple in [Mana Sense], something he hadn’t expected.

  A broad smile met his lips. He was growing again. For a few months he felt he had stagnated, felt he would need to go into the woods and find something to fight. He likely still would, but he now knew what he had been missing when he leveled up. He hadn’t qualified for any new class skills, so he would need to discover what conditions needed to be met for them in the future.

  I suppose that’s the issue with rare classes, not much information on them and it takes more to qualify... Takes more essence to level too. Of course, Lios embraced the challenge. Without challenge, after all, how could he grow?

  Satisfied with the new skill, he resumed his dancing. He hadn’t had time to craft any new spells between work and other training, but he was content with perfecting the ones he already had available to him. The twin foxes watched on, a bit ruffled from the burst of wind earlier, but otherwise unbothered.

  __________________________________________

  Another week passed. It was nearing his birthday but wasn’t quite there yet. The suns were setting. Lios had finally finished his chainmaille project but had decided to stay late to do so. Darren had had a gleam in his eyes at the boy's progress. Oftentimes, it took much longer for someone to graduate from forge tender to actual smith. For someone to make real, sellable armor.

  Perhaps it was because of how meticulous the boy tended to be, or perhaps it was his drive and work ethic, but Lios had exceeded expectations even considering Darren had seen his stats and class. He was months, if not years, ahead of the curve, and it showed.

  The chain shirt wasn’t anything beautiful or special, but it was a tedious task Darren liked to give to his apprentices to see if they really had the chops to work in a forge. Most days, smiths worked on nails, repaired armor and weapons for local guards, and made mundane things such as cooking utensils, horseshoes, tools for farming and other items of the like. It wasn’t as glorious a profession as many seemed to think. Not all smiths made weapons and armor for adventurers; in fact, most hardly made such things until they were much older and able to branch out of their home smithy.

  Even still, Lios had performed admirably. He hadn’t complained a single time while making nails, nor while making the shirt. In fact, during all of these tedious tasks, he had revelled in his tasks, sinking into them eagerly.

  Darren shook his head, a small smile hidden beneath his ample facial hair. He watched the boy walking toward the southern gate, on his way home no doubt.

  That boy will be a powerhouse someday, I'm sure. The grizzled former adventurer thought. He considered making the boy a gift for when he eventually left, something to help keep him safe. Maybe a chest plate? Hmm... I’m unsure… What armor would a Bladedancer wear?

  He idly checked his metal reserves, pulling out a few ingots as he contemplated what would help Lios the most. He would likely prefer simply being taught how to craft his own. I think that ought to do. He set aside a couple of the ingots, metals the boy could work with at his level. Still, he would have to wait a while before giving them to the boy, at least until the boy figured out his enchanting. No reason to waste the gift on something more mundane.

  The smith smiled and began closing up shop, eager to see just how far Lios would make it before leaving Arborton. Over the last several months, he had, like many of his other mentors, grown quite fond of the young swordsman.

  __________________________________________

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  Lios wended his way down the streets toward the southern gate, musing to himself about what his next project might be. Darren had seemed pretty impressed with the completion of the chainmaille, but the project hadn’t been difficult once Lios learned how to draw the steel into wire. It had only been tedious.

  The boy didn’t mind, though. He wasn’t in a hurry, considering it would be some time before he even gained the next class, anyway. Still, he wondered if maybe he could start working on weapons or armor. They would be his focus once he branched out on his own, after all. Plus, Maya’s tenth birthday would come in the next year, and he wanted to get her a gift. He hadn’t been in a position to do so for any of his other friends, but he thought he might be able to do it for her at least.

  Soon enough, he made it to the south gate and turned left, heading in the direction of his home. Within a few moments, he heard a shuffle and a whisper behind him. Turning to look back, he didn’t see anything and so continued on his way. Only a few feet later he heard the scuffle again, the sound of boots on dirt, and turned once more. Frowning, he considered what to do before deciding to be direct.

  “Who’s there?” He called out, his mind running a mile a minute. There weren’t very many homes outside of the city walls; they were pretty far apart. It was one of the appeals of living outside of the city itself, though the open space was slowly being filled by more homes.

  As he looked out at the various shadows cast by the nearest home, he caught sight of movement. A figure stood up wearing mostly black and dark brown. Beneath the figure's cloak, Lios caught sight of the blue gleam of armor. Another figure stood from the shadows as well, similarly garbed. A third followed, this one holding what looked to be a training sword in his hand.

  “Dammit, Collin, he caught us! I guess it doesn’t matter, but can’t you be sneakier? Useless bastard.” A familiar voice rang out from the one holding the training weapon.

  The voice and sight of the figures set Lios on edge. He looked around himself, taking in his surroundings as quickly as he could. What is Ethan doing here? What does he gain from following me? The boy asked himself as he located a fallen branch a few yards away. He barely saw it through the shadows, but the sun had yet to fully set and the dim light was enough for him to see his potential weapon. He didn’t make a habit of walking around town with his training swords.

  “What do you want with me, Ethan?” Lios called out, glancing warily as the three figures meandered toward him. He took a few steps back, at an angle toward the branch.

  “Ugh, how did you know it was me? After all the effort to hide?” There was cockiness in the teenager’s voice, an arrogance that always seemed present. “Well, I ‘spose it doesn’t matter. I’m going to teach you a lesson, understand? If you don’t leave Rose alone after this, I’ll teach you another one. And another one after that.”

  Lios could hear the teens sneer, could hear how eager Ethan was to teach him a lesson. The young swordsman wasn’t afraid, necessarily. He knew Ethan wouldn’t kill him, at least not yet, but Lios didn’t want to get hurt either. Frowning, he hastened his back steps, his footing sure despite the uneven ground. He was used to traversing uneven surfaces while practicing.

  “Look at that boys, he must be scared!” Ethan mocked, eliciting a chuckle from his cronies. “Get him!”

  The three rushed forward, darting toward Lios. He glanced behind to find he was near his target. Hastening, he stepped back a few more times, perhaps looking like he was running away, before grabbing the branch. By this point, the trio had nearly made it to him, flanking him eagerly. At some point during their approach, the two goons had drawn their own blunted weapons.

  “Aw, come on, Lios, you can’t mean to take all three of us? You couldn’t beat me at the fall festival, let alone now!” Ethan taunted. His hood had fallen, and he now wore a maniacal grin. His expression sent shivers down Lios’s back; something in the teen’s eyes caused him fear for the first time in a long time.

  “We don’t have to do this, Ethan. You have no reason to hate me. Rose is just a friend of mine.” Lios tried to placate the older boy, taking a few more steps backward to prevent himself from being surrounded.

  “I don’t care. I don’t want you to be her friend, and I get what I want.” Ethan cackled before lunging, attempting to take Lios by surprise.

  Feeling that words wouldn’t help him, the Bladedancer twisted, slapping the flat of the incoming weapon with his branch as mana began to pour from his feet. A line was drawn, invisible to the naked eye.

  Ethan looked surprised that his attack had been so easily parried, but he didn’t look concerned. It was three on one, and the three were higher levels than Lios. All three were swordsmen, which seemed to be one of the most coveted weapon-based classes in Jorial. The boy on the right, Collin, slashed at Lios, forcing him to dodge out of the way. From the left, the third boy, whom Lios didn’t know, chopped at his leg, attempting to stumble him.

  As he dodged out of the way, another line was drawn. Then another. He didn’t make any sort of moves to retaliate against the trio; they were all only barely slower than he was despite their level being higher. Likely a combination of uncommon classes providing fewer stats, and their classes not providing as many points in dexterity.

  No, he didn’t counter or attack back. Doing so would only open him up to the other weapons. Even as he dodged and blocked, he took a strike from Ethan himself, the boy grinning when he felt the contact of his dulled weapon on Lios’s side. Alexilios winced and staggered, still managing to avoid the other two as he did so. He dodged to the side as another sword swung toward him, darting behind the unknown teen and drawing yet another line into existence.

  This time, as he dodged behind his foe, he slashed out and struck the boy in the back of his knee with enough force that Lios was concerned that his branch might crack and break. The older boy let out a yelp and fell to one knee, turning to lash out at Lios, but Lios had moved on already. He had to if he wanted to continue the dance.

  So far, a mere few seconds had passed. He parried two more strikes and dodged another three before he was struck again, this time in his thigh. It was naturally Ethan who landed the blow. The metal training swords may not have been able to cut Lios, but they sure did hurt. He knew he would be feeling that one in the morning. Still, he didn’t let the pain show on his face, taking the strike as he barely faltered and parried another strike.

  Blocking and diverting their attacks seemed to surprise the older lads, but he could tell they weren’t going all out. Not one of them had activated a skill yet, as far as he could tell. He wasn’t sure if they had a reason not to, if they were feeling out his skills or not, but he would take advantage of it.

  Another few avoided attacks, and Lios felt ready to cast his spell, though he was still unsure of how it would affect the surrounding folks. He had only ever cast it in an open field after all. He wormed his way into the center of their trio, allowing them to feel as though they had flanked him successfully, before sending the last bit of mana through his feet.

  With gritted teeth, focusing on not being struck by his foes, Alexilios poured as much mana as he could into the spell. He focused not on cutting the lads, but on pushing them away as far as he could. In his effort, he grew distracted, maybe a little complacent, and allowed three strikes to land. They weren't aiming for his jewels nor his noggin, so he felt they wouldn't be too detrimental, but they still hurt.

  Then, well then, his small cyclone sprang into existence. Mana swirled around him in the form of a powerful wind, twisting between him and his three bullies. It shot out in all directions, whipping at them as they were all caught unawares. Each of the three yelped out in surprise before being pushed back, just a little at first, their feet digging furrows into the ground. Then they were lifted, thrown off their feet a few yards away.

  Ethan cursed just loud enough for Lios to hear it, but the apprentice smith didn’t pay attention. As soon as they were pushed away, he turned and bolted in the direction of his home. He should be faster than them, or so he thought, especially with this head start. It didn’t take long, perhaps a second or two, before he heard the heavy plodding of feet behind him. They were giving chase.

  What’s worse, he could hear the footfalls growing closer with each second. Perhaps they weren’t as fast as he in combat, but they may have had higher running skills or perhaps it was a combination of their strength and dexterity. Either way, the older boys with the longer strides were gaining on him quickly.

  Lios racked his brain. I’m not strong enough to beat them, not fast enough to outrun them... What can I do? I can’t hurt them or Ethan’s father will come down on my entire family... not that I’m confident I could hurt them in the first place...

  His mind ran faster than he did , trying to form a strategy. He knew he was close to his home, but not close enough. As he considered his options, the worst-case scenario met him. A heavy object struck him in the back of the leg, sending him forward in a tumble. He rolled, tried to get to his feet, but it was too late. Three boys, one of them missing his weapon, stood over him. Ethan grinned maliciously and stomped down on Lios’s leg, not quite enough to break it but enough to cause the Bladedancer to cry out.

  “Collin, hold him down!” Ethan screamed, nodding at the other boy.

  Collin didn’t hesitate to obey. Quickly his hands found Lios’s shoulders and pushed down, too strong for Lios to break away. Then the pain really started.

  “You think you’re so clever, huh, kid? Keep talking to my fiance and you’ll find out how clever you really are. This is just the start!” Ethan said before taking his training sword and slashing it across Lios’s torso. He struck him once, twice, and then a third time, not caring when Lios raised his arms to protect his face.

  “So arrogant to think you can stand up to me!”

  Thwack!

  “When you’re just a defiant little puppy!”

  Smack!

  “Stay!”

  The sword was thrust into Lios’s gut, making him cough in pain. A ding rang out.

  “Away!”

  Metal smashed into his forearms; something snapped. Lios lost focus. Another ding.

  “From!”

  This one hit him in the back, forcing him forward onto his stomach. He wasn’t able to catch himself, to keep himself up. Someone whimpered. It took a moment to realise it was him.

  “Rose!”

  This time, Ethan stomped down on the back of Lios’s calf, then stomped again not saying anything else. With the third stomp something broke. Shattered. Lios screamed in pain. Another few dings rang out, but he paid them no mind.

  “Maybe now you’ll listen, punk.” The teen spat down on the boy he had just tormented. “Let’s go, guys.”

  Lios stopped yelling, his throat already hoarse, and tried to breathe deeply. He rolled onto his back, wincing at the effort. His leg cried out to him. His arm whimpered; it was certainly broken. It took a few minutes for him to focus on something other than his pain. Each breath hurt, likely due to a number of broken or cracked ribs on top of all the bruises he had likely just gained.

  Looking up at the sky, witnessing those beautiful stars, he took stock of his body, realizing his left arm and right leg had both been broken. With each breath pain wracked his body. He belatedly realized he could taste blood in his mouth; he had bitten his tongue at some point. It was bleeding quite a bit.

  Slightly panicked, he forced himself to sit up, ignoring another ding and the pain that came with moving. He could imagine if he had stayed lying he’d have slowly drowned in his own blood. Plus, elevating his head seemed integral to not bleeding out. It was well and truly dark by now, the only light coming from the scattered windows nearby.

  With a grunt, Lios felt around for his branch, unable to see it. Each movement sent pangs of pain through his body, sometimes causing him to cough, which sent more pain. Still, he didn’t let himself stop. Wouldn’t it be great if my story stopped so soon? As he felt around helplessly in the dark, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of rage at Ethan. So possessive over Lios’s friend he was, that he ganged up on the young swordsman in the night.

  What a coward... Lios thought as he finally found his stick. It took another few minutes to bring himself up to his feet, or rather foot. He used the stick as a crutch, grateful they hadn’t seen fit to break it. It was difficult, slow going. He nearly stumbled a dozen times making his way to his home. The longer he walked, stumbling and shaking as he was, the more difficult it became. With the adrenaline gone from his system, the pain made itself known all the more.

  But after a long while, he made it home. He opened the door and collapsed just inside the house, unable to hear his parents' cries and questions. He was out cold before he even hit the floor, either from exhaustion, or blood loss, or perhaps the pain had just met a certain threshold. Either way, he was unable to explain what had happened.