There was a moment of stunned silence from Larkin after the Avorean’s announcement.

  “How…?” He finally began to say, only to be immediately cut off.

  “And so young.” The Avorean continued, staring him up and down. Her eyes - already beady - narrowed markedly.

  “A Human, as well…” She murmured, clearly talking to herself.

  For his part, Larkin felt that he was slowly coming out of his confusion.

  This wasn’t how I imagined this going, he thought.

  But then the Avorean shook herself out of her internal thoughts and looked up at him.

  “Why were you looking for me?”

  Larkin didn’t reply directly to that, instead unslinging his bag and rifling through it to find the letter. Lyzkel peered at it curiously when he handed it over.

  “From Krystan?” She muttered. “What does that old dear want?”

  The Avorean lost no time in ripping the thing open and quickly scanning its contents.

  “What? He’s worried about me?” She exclaimed at one point. “Didn’t Jillian send my note?”

  The Priestess trailed off after that and soon lowered the letter with a frown on her beak.

  “There’s nothing in here about you.” She observed. “Why are you carrying my mail?”

  The little Avorean said those words with an extremely neutral tone and expression. And Larkin found himself remembering how unconcerned Jorg had been about her safety.

  “I came across Krystan’s house by accident.” He hurriedly told her. “He asked me to give you this note, since I was already heading this way.”

  Lyzkel’s frown deepened for a moment before she gave a throaty sigh.

  “I suppose I’ll have to take that as my sign.” She muttered before squinting up at him.

  “I take it that Krystan knew nothing about your unusual nature.” She remarked. “So are you saying that it was a coincidence that you happened to be near his little hermitage?”

  Larkin hesitated, his mind going numb.

  What can I say to her? He wondered. She must have some Skill that allows her to see Classes. And I didn’t even realise that no one else only had one Class.

  The Avorean tilted her head almost ninety degrees to one side, sort of like an owl - which proved pretty damn disturbing to see.

  “My question seems to have flummoxed you.” She added. “So how about I play a little guessing game?”

  The Priestess raised a feathering hand, a single digit raised.

  “My first guess is that you arrived in Systemia a relatively short time ago. A couple of months at most, and probably considerably less.”

  Larkin blinked at that, before looking to one side in a squint as he tried to work out how many days it had been since he’d come through the portal.

  Definitely well under a month, he thought. Could I really only have been here a week?

  “My second guess.” Lyzkel continued, as she raised another finger. “You have made some connection with the Adventurer’s Guild in Gavlim. And that involved proving yourself as at least somewhat capable by either Cezar or Jorg - most likely both.”

  The Avorean didn’t give him time to process any of that as she raised a third digit.

  “My next guess is that you picked up your Fighter Class a little after entering Systemia.” She said. “And, related, that you have had no luck at all in levelling up your first Class - this Null Mage.”

  Lyzkel paused at that point, and a faint smile appeared on her face.

  “How am I doing so far?” She asked.

  Pretty scarily good, he thought.

  But out loud Larkin gave a cough, even as he found himself shuffling his feet.

  “Any more guesses?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  The widened smile on the Avorean’s face showed how ineffective that was.

  “Very well, then I shall give another go.” Lyzkel told him, leaning slightly forward. Her eyes gleamed with some sort of sudden focus.

  “You entered a portal to take you into Systemia.” She told him. “But you were not the person that the opening was meant for. You sneaked through.”

  Larkin couldn’t help himself from gaping a little at that.

  How? He thought.

  But Lyzkel wasn’t done yet.

  “And so my final guess.” She continued, before briefly hesitating. “And my least confident.”

  The Priestess raised her thumb, fluttering her five digits briefly.

  “You have heard the name Soas.”

  The Avorean was staring Larkin in the face, and she gave a slow nod before he could formulate a response.

  “Very interesting.” She murmured, lowering her hand. “So it’s finally making its move.”

  Larkin shook himself, taking a breath and straightening his spine.

  “How could you know all that?” He demanded, voice cracking. “All of that from just me having two Classes! And one you’ve never even heard of before?”

  The Avorean gave a dip of the head, not showing much reaction to his outburst.

  “Both those things aren’t small, you know.” She replied. “But it’s true that even with that information, many would not have had their thoughts go the way mine have.”

  She gave a self deprecating chuckle.

  “Perhaps I flatter myself, but I think that you have been very lucky to find me.” The Avorean gave a shrug. “It seems that I am not the only one who has benefited from Lady Fortune.”

  Larkin frowned down at the little bird, but he actually found that he had a sudden release of tension from deep within his belly. Some tightness that he hadn’t really known was there until it was gone.

  I guess I can finally talk to someone about this.

  And so he did, in fits and starts as he tried to gather his thoughts. But he spoke about the strange behaviour of the five other kids at school, their clandestine meeting, them talking to the air - or, rather, the invisible Soas - and the appearance of those terrifying monsters. Then their powers, and following them through the portal.

  Thinking about how he had been left hanging in the air by that musclehead Bill, and then the nasty smile from Patricia right before she tried to immolate him had his anger resurging. He shook that off - aided by the enforced distance of his Calm Mind Skill. And instead he explained what he’d been up to since he’d arrived in Systemia. He trailed off as he got to the part about entering Harper’s Grove with the help of that bickering couple - Garth and Sarah - and then making his way up to the Priory.

  Wow, I’ve been talking for ages. He coughed, finding his throat raspy.

  Lyzkel stayed silent for a little while longer, one hand occasionally softly passing through the feathers on the top of her head.

  “That is very interesting.”

  The Priestess’ words were very silent, and she then fell quiet again for a while later.

  I guess it’s a lot to take in. He thought, as he decided that he could give her time to think. She’s just found out that there’s not just one person from another world, but six.

  “Things are happening quickly.” Lyzkel said. “And will likely pick up pace, too.”

  The Avorean gave a decisive nod.

  “My little vacation must be cut short, I think.” She told him. “We should go back to Gavlim.”

  Larkin blinked at her, as the Avorean turned and went off to a corner of the little room. She picked up a small satchel, swinging it over her shoulder as she then walked past him towards the stairs.

  “Come on, we can talk more on the way.” She told him.

  He hesitated a moment, before hurriedly following after the Priestess - and the light that she was taking with her.

  Lyzkel was already halfway out of the ruined building by the time that he emerged - the old bird was certainly spry! So with one last dubious look around the former fortification, Larkin followed her.

  It was still dark, so he found himself grateful for the lack of any debris or things that he might trip over in the ruined building.

  Though it’s pretty odd that nothing’s collapsed or landed inside here all this time, he thought. Some more magic at work, I guess.

  He caught up with Lyzkel quite quickly outside though, as the Avorean was staring down at the buildings at the bottom of the hill. She glanced over at him as Larkin came to a halt beside her.

  “I need to give my farewells.” She added, sounding reluctant. “Wait for me at the gate.”

  Larkin did so, wondering how he should be feeling as he stood by the boundary wall. His big news was out and - if he was being honest - the reaction had been less than he had expected.

  If someone on Earth had told him that they were from another world then Larkin would either think that they were a lunatic or, if they offered proof, would probably freak out.

  But Lyzkel had seemed to believe him and yet act like it wasn’t that important. Though Larkin had no idea if other people in Systemia would be so blasé.

  He wasn’t kept waiting for long before Lyzkel reappeared. The Avorean didn’t seem to have picked up any more travelling equipment; she still just had the thin satchel, the sandals on her bird-like feet, and a thin leather belt around her waist which had a few pouches on.

  I guess Avoreans don’t need to wear much clothing, he thought, remembering that both Squrl and Kyrstan hadn’t been wearing much either.

  “Apologies for the wait.” She told him. “The Caretakers do so like asking questions.”

  Without another word, the Avorean pulled at the doors which smoothly swung open.

  “What’s their deal?” Larkin asked Lyzkel as the pair set off down the path. “Why stay here?”

  The Avorean gave a short chuckle.

  “I couldn’t really say. I certainly wouldn’t want to stick in this ruin; even though their collected records are useful.”

  Lyzkel shrugged.

  “They call themselves Caretakers, as I said. I suppose they would say that they are seeking to preserve Systemia’s history.”

  Larkin glanced back, his view of the crumbling structures now obscured by the closed - and pristine - gate.

  “What would other people say about them?” He asked.

  And the Priestess made a thoughtful noise in response.

  “The answer would depend on who you ask.” She told him. “Most won’t have even heard of them, of course. Others think them odd but harmless. And some would rail at their heresy. Apart from the traditional Ogre clans they’re the only people in Systemia that don’t worship the Six, after all.

  She chuckled briefly to herself, and then changed the topic.

  “Could you describe the powers that you saw the other Earlthings use?”

  At his glance, Lyzkel raised a placating hand. “I know that I’m asking you to repeat yourself. But I’m keen to have an accurate idea of what Classes they might have been given.”

  Larkin was reluctant but decided to play along. The old bird certainly knows more about this place than I do, after all.

  “Well, Bill seemed to be able to turn gravity on and off, or at least he could increase and weaken its strength.” He said, thinking back to what he’d seen of the musclehead’s ability.

  “I guess there’s a number of ways that he could lift people into the air.” He continued. “But when he did it to me I just sort of felt weightless.”

  Larkin felt that the description was pretty lacking, but Lyzkel gave a thoughtful noise.

  “I’ve an idea what that is.” She told him. “What about the others?”

  He gave her a sideways glance.

  I hope she’s planning to share her thoughts.

  Pushing that aside, he scratched at the side of his face.

  “Cyril seemed to just be throwing spells around.” He said. “I didn’t really see him use his powers beyond that one time.”

  He hadn’t seen Melody or Alexis actually do anything. And he sort of felt that the former couldn’t hurt others; that her Class didn’t have that capacity. That was the sense he got from overhearing them all in the construction yard, anyway.

  Which left…

  “Patricia had some pyromancy-like powers.” He said, unable to hide the mixture of anger and fear at thinking about that crazed girl.

  “Actually, I was wondering about that.” He added, glancing down at Lyzkel. “She seemed perfectly normal before she got her Class. Could it have changed her that quickly?”

  The Avorean took a moment to respond, the only sound around them being that of their feet slapping against the stones as they went down the stairs.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “It’s not impossible.” The Priestess finally said. “I’ve certainly noted that Classbearers can become… peculiar in their way of thinking.”

  Lyzkel gave a soft squawk - which Larkin took as amusement.

  “I’ve also heard a range of approaches to this bleed of instincts from Classes to the actual Classbearer.” She continued. “The previous Grandmaster of the Girant Adventurer’s Guild was very clear about educating new Classbearers against this risk, though the current Grandmaster takes a different approach…”

  Larkin found himself interrupting as Lyzkel threatened to go off topic.

  “I’ve felt my Fighter Class trying to take over during fights.” He told the Priestess excitedly. “And when it’s happened it’s been… kind of like losing control of my body.”

  The Avorean nodded.

  “That is generally what’s been reported for martial-based Classes.” She told him. “Magically-inclined ones tend to get lost in the intricacies of their Class, at the expense of their surroundings. I’ve also noticed that they can become overly used to the Spells their Classes give them, not experimenting or even showing the slightest attempt to vary what they’ve done before.”

  Larkin raised an eyebrow.

  “And priestly ones?” He asked.

  Only for Lyzkel to give a chuckle.

  “The temple has always said that anything like that doesn’t happen to the Priest Class.” She announced. “Though I’ve certainly seen a number of Classbearers that have taken on strikingly similar mannerisms to their patrons.”

  The Avorean then looked up sharply, fixing him with her beady eyes.

  “But going back to your question.” She said. “I think it unlikely that any Class - even the one that was given to these ‘Chosen’ - could have changed someone’s personality that quickly.”

  The Priestess gave a shrug.

  “It could be that the new power went to her head. That is certainly a common failing I’ve seen.”

  The Avorean gave a crooked grin.

  “In that regard, I imagine she’d fit right into life in Haugar.”

  Larkin nodded, though found himself struggling to fit that idea with the image of the class swot.

  “Is that feelling likely to increase as we get levels?” He asked, only to immediately speak again. “On that point, what the heck are levels in the first place?”

  He knew, from a gaming sense, what they were. But how would that translate to reality?

  Lyzkel seemed to understand his question, as she gave a chuckle.

  “The Temples are quite clear on this point, actually.” She told him. “Classes are gifts given by the Six. And by dedicating themselves to that Class, the Classbearer can gain more power - in the form of levels.”

  That’s not a very good answer.

  That thought, unspoken, seemed to pass to the Avorean regardless.

  “There have been a number of theories raised as to the actual mechanism of this.” She told him as they walked along. “Though I warn you, they’re based on conjecture rather than much evidence.”

  “But the one I prefer is the idea that Classes are manifestations of concentrations of mana. And the more mana that is gathered the higher the levels increase.”

  Larkin nodded slowly, though he was mostly struck by the caveats that the Priestess threw in.

  It looks like no one knows. He concluded. Except for the Six, and I don’t know if I can take their word for gospel.

  But something else that the Avorean said had struck him.

  “What you said about the others, the Chosen?” He aksed. “Do you mean that they were given different Classes than normal?”

  The Avorean nodded, her attitude going quite serious.

  “Yes, what you’ve described sounds very much like these ‘Chosen’ were given similar Classes to those of the First Generation.”

  Larkin blinked - before his Skill sent the relevant information into his head.

  The first Classbearers that appeared in Systemia. He suddenly knew. The founders of many of the lands currently existing.

  “The First Generation had Classes that have since vanished from Systemia.” Lyzkel continued. “The stories we have of them provide uncertain information about just how powerful they were. Were they records of actual fact or elaborations by later bards to bolster their renown?”

  The Avorean glanced over at him.

  “It’s certainly clear that some Classbearers can develop their Classes in extreme ways even now. Coming up with ways of working that are completely different from those of the same Class. There’s an Air Mage in Haugar that can teleport, for example, which I’ve not encountered before. And another Air Mage I knew, a long time ago, could hear words whispered from scores of miles away.”

  “Neither of these Mages could hope to replicate each other’s feat.”

  The Priestess shrugged.

  “Anyway, the First Generation. Most of the current states in the world were founded by members of that.” She added. “And Girant is no different: it was founded by Hau Phorsa, whose line continues to rule. He apparently had a Class called Controller which, again, has vanished from this world.”

  Larkin noted to the Priestess but then he frowned.

  “Does… everyone know about the First Generation?” He asked Lyzkel.

  It seemed like it should be known if Classes had changed like that, but the Avorean shook her head.

  “Not completely no.” She told him. “Everyone knows about the sudden appearance of their ancestors in Systemia, of course, and many will recognise that the Classes that many of the famous First Generation had aren’t around anymore. But they are mostly unaware that the Classes currently used weren’t present at all until twenty years after the Arrival”

  “I know more than most due to my position in the Temples.” Lyzkel continued. “As well as a result of my various journeys and enquiries.”

  Larkin found himself nodding along - both to the Priestess’ words, but also the additional information that flooded into his brain as the Avorean spoke.

  That’s damn distracting, he groused to himself. Useful though.

  “And the … Arrival.” He asked. “That was due to the Six?”

  That seemed to be what his Skill was telling him, but Lyzkel gave him a sharp look even as she nodded.

  “The Six appeared twenty one years after the first people of Systemia arrived in this world.” She told him, sounding like she was quoting something. “They revealed that the people were survivors of the destruction of their homeworlds, and that they were now safe in Systemia.”

  Larkin found his frown only deepening.

  Earth wasn’t destroyed.

  “And where does Soas fit into this?” He asked.

  But the Avorean’s response was delayed as they came to the bottom of the stairs. It was just starting to get light, with the sun a bright light on the horizon.

  There were a handful of people about, who stopped to stare at them. And then Larkin saw a familiar face approach them.

  “Honoured Priestess.” Sarah addressed Lyzkel, giving the Avorean a bob of the head that was replicated by her silent daughter hovering behind her. “I hope that this young man hasn’t troubled you?”

  She said that last with a suspicious look at Larkin. Who, knowing better than to argue against Sarah’s clear image of him, kept quiet.

  “Thank you, but young Larkin has been most helpful.” The Avorean told the villager. “Your concern has been noted; may Caitlyn look favourably upon you and yours.”

  Lyzkel raised her left hand upward at that, pointing her feathered palm towards the two women. Who each gave far deeper bows in response.

  “Thank you, Priestess.” Sarah replied, clearly flustered. “May the Six be with you.”

  Larkin watched all that in silence, before following Lyzkel as the Avorean walked through the village and then the gate leading to the path beyond. They stopped a number of times so that Lyzkel could talk with a few people, or to administer more blessings.

  They really believe all this stuff, Larkin thought, finding himself surprised by the suddenness of the realisation.

  I mean, back at home there were people that talked about religion. But it was considered pretty weird to go on about it.

  When they finally left the village he glanced down at Lyzkel.

  “What does all that stuff do? All that praying. I mean?” He asked her. “Do the gods - do the Six - really do anything?”

  The Priestess gave him a blank look, taking a few moments to respond.

  “Most would say they give guidance.” She finally replied, before twitching her head to one side and glancing back at him.

  “Do you have gods in your world?”

  Larkin hesitated.

  “We have the idea of gods.” He said. “I think most people back home would say that there’s a god, but would disagree on pretty much everything else.”

  The Priestess hummed thoughtfully at that.

  “Sounds very different from Systemia.” Lyzkel laughed, somewhat darkly. “The Six tend to be very clear about their views on things.”

  She glanced up at him.

  “The Six mandate that the temples provide succour to all those that require it.” She told him. “So the Six - through the Priests - treat disease, grow crops, help run various parts of the world, and form a part of the constant fight against monsters.”

  “They also…” Lyzkel continued. “Provide … directions on how people should live their lives.”

  The Avorean said the last with a grave weightiness.

  “You said that your Earth doesn’t have any magic.” She told him. “Or at least, none that you were aware of.”

  At his nod, she asked.

  “And you had technology that we don’t have in Systemia?”

  Larkin hesitated, not knowing exactly how to frame his response.

  “Yeah, we’ve got a lot of stuff at home that you just don’t seem to have here.” He said. “Some pretty basic stuff.”

  How exactly do I say that this world seems primitive? He wondered.

  Although fortunately he didn’t have to, as Lyzkel gave him a wry look.

  “You will have seen the clean water that is present in even the meanest village in Girant?” At Larkin’s nod, the Priestess made a clucking noise. “Those represent the largest bulk product of Alchemy that the temples and court of Girant will allow under the Holy Convention. Lightstones are another example.”

  Larkin grunted as he thought about that.

  I mean, I hear that clean water is still hard to get access to in some countries back home. But…

  “You say that all this technology… this Alchemy is restricted. Right?”

  That also aligned with some of what Krystan had said. Something about Alchemy having to be registered at a temple.

  “But why?” He asked Lyzkel, pushing aside the insidious knowledge that his Skill tried to slip into his brain. “If Alchemy can do more than that, then why limit it?”

  The Avorean hummed softly to herself.

  “Now, the official reason is that Alchemy goes against the teachings of the Six, weakens us against the threat from monsters and chaos, and thus needs to be controlled.”

  The Priestess grinned slyly up at him.

  “I’m telling you this version so that you don’t unintentionally get yourself in trouble by saying the wrong thing. You being an other-worlder and all.”

  Larkin nodded uncertainly.

  That’s awfully frank.

  “That justification was always weak in my opinion.” The Avorean said, unaware of Larkin’s thoughts. “And certainly now there are plenty of followers of the Six, and some of the Six themselves, who see the value in Alchemy.”

  The Priestess chuckled, though it was clearly a dark amusement.

  “What is the root cause for most misery and suffering?” She told Larkin. “I don’t know how it is on your Earth, but within Systemia I have always been able to identify greed, selfishness, and the desire to profit at the expense of others to be the most likely culprit.”

  The Avorean fell silent, and they walked in silence for a few minutes. It was now very clearly dawn, and so Larkin was able to take in the gentle rolling landscape. Even at this early hour he saw labourers starting to move around the cottages and farms, and move into the nearby fields.

  Though glancing back, he saw no evidence of the village of Harper’s Grove.

  They clearly take their privacy seriously.

  “The first breakthroughs in the field of Alchemy took place in the eastern continent of Avasca, forty years ago.” Lyzkel announced. “I was not present at the time, but I heard later that all sorts of rumours were going around.”

  “It was said that these marvels could create substance from nothing, could grant a child the power of an adult, and could give an adult the power of a Classbearer.”

  The Avorean laughed darkly again.

  “In truth, I fear that it was the latter that proved to be the undoing of Alchemy. At least in the short term.”

  Larkin frowned, but the Priestess wasn’t done.

  “It took several years for the early Alchemists and their ideas to cross the oceans to Pendera, and then some more for them to reach Girant. The Temples were unwilling to spread the information, you see. But when they did reach here they proved as popular as elsewhere.”

  “At least amongst some of the people.” Lyzkel said. “There were certain groups that resisted these new ideas. Those forces proved dominant in Girant, and so it was still struggling with Alchemy whilst their neighbours embraced it.

  The Priestess sighed again.

  “And that was another part of the problem. Across Systemia, larger states took longer to embrace the new ideas and so fell behind smaller, more agile, powers.”

  Larkin nodded slowly, thinking he got that.

  “There was a war?” He guessed.

  Lyzkel smiled grimly even as she nodded.

  “There were many wars.” She said darkly. “Until they merged into one, continent-spanning conflict. Well, across the whole of Systemia, actually. But it was the bloodiest in Pendera.”

  “All the older states that survived against the younger upstarts with armies with Alchemical weapons.”

  “And the upstart states were crushed.”

  Larkin frowned, as that seemed to make no sense.

  “How?” He asked. “Wouldn’t the armies of the newer states be better?”

  In his head, he imagined hordes of cavalry charging a line of trenches protected by machine guns. There could only be one winner in that confrontation.

  “Because of the Classbearers.” The priestess told him. “They were almost all in service of the larger, older kingdoms and proved impossible for even armies with Alchemy to deal with.”

  Lyzkel snorted again.

  “But listen to me go on, clearly I’m getting old.” The Avorean glanced up at him. “The Alchemical Wars were destructive for all of Systemia, but nowhere more so that in western Pendera.”

  “Califray, a small state to the west, was destroyed by Girant.” The Priestess grimaced. “And that word is not overselling things; the land remains uninhabited to this day.”

  “Girant has been the strongest state in this half of the continent since the Arrival. And King Harg wanted to ensure that the threat of Alchemy wouldn’t rise again to threaten that state of affairs. Hence the Holy Convention - one of the key parts of his Treaty of Conservation."

  The Avorean fell silent again, and Larkin was content to do the same as he thought through what she’d told him.

  A country getting destroyed and being left uninhabited sounds… really bad.

  He thought of the powers that the other guys from Earth had been throwing around, how they had casually torn apart those monsters. The idea of Classbearers like that running amok amongst some enemy state… Well, he didn’t want to follow up on that thought.

  “So Girant doesn’t have much Alchemy because of that war?” He eventually asked. “Does that mean that other areas of Systemia do have Alchemy?”

  The Avorean nodded.

  “Alchemy was largely crushed in Pendera, with only a few applications deemed ‘acceptable’ by the King and the temples becoming widespread. But it was more resilient in Avasca, the eastern continent.” She told him. “When I visited there after the Wars, I saw all sorts of marvels.”

  The Priestess shook her head.

  “But even there, the early rush of ideas seem to have become silted.” Her beak clicked in irritation. “Alchemy has largely become another player in the competing politics of the Empire of Sayr.”

  The Avorean gave a sudden shake of her head, the motion so hard that her feather slapped softly together.

  “This is all a tangent.” She said. “What is a more relevant question is what do you mean to do?”

  At Larkin’s confused look, she gave a soft sigh.

  “You said that the Adventurer’s Guild in Gavlim have already asked you to join them.” She told him. “That means that they’ve recognised your potential, but it doesn’t mean that you have to accept their offer.”

  The small Avorean fluttered a hand.

  “Systemia is a large place, and you’ve seen such a small part of it. You could go across the width of Pendera, or go across the ocean and see the Alchemy of Avasca yourself. Or even explore the southern continent of Stobon.”

  Lyzkel then gave him a piercing look.

  “One thing that I would very strongly impress on you, however, is that you tell no one what you’ve just told me.”

  Surprised at the Avorean’s vehemence, Larkin looked wide-eyed at her.

  “Your presence in Systemia would be seen as a threat by some very powerful beings.” She told him. “Frankly, telling anyone your secret will place you in grave jeopardy, with unlikely benefits to yourself.”

  Larkin nodded, and found his steps slowing as he found himself thinking Lyzkel’s words through. And the Avorean followed suit, making no comment as he came to a stop.

  Accepting the Priestess’ warning about telling people he was from another world was pretty easy. But far trickier was her other question.

  What do I want to do? He wondered.

  When he had first seen the portal to Systemia, back in that construction yard on Earth, the thrill of breaking out of his grey life had been what had drawn him. And it was certainly true that this world was very different from anything on Earth.

  But what do I want to do here?

  He knew that there were all sorts of places that would be filled with species that he’d never seen before, cities and forests and mountains filled with things completely new to him. He could see all of that.

  And yet…

  Larkin’s mind had gone immediately to the memory of Squrl surrounded by a hungry Irontooth, to the jubilant villagers when he and Horg had brought back the Ironclaw meat.

  To the horrible sight of the three children in their wet tomb.

  “I can help people.” He muttered.

  And he found his conviction crystallising at those words.

  If his actions could stop children dying, did he really have much choice in the matter? He wasn’t prepared to live with the shades of those he’d abandoned lingering behind him.

  He’d be an adventurer. And save as many as he could.

  “You're certain, then?”

  He looked down at Lyzkel, finding that the Avorean was gazing at him.

  “I am.” He told her.

  The Priestess nodded.

  “Good.” She began to walk again, and he followed.

  “I think that you’ve made the right choice.” She told him. “And perhaps I can help you.”

  At Larkin’s look, she clarified.

  “I may be able to help you with your Null Mage Class.”