He was conflicted.

  He loved seeing Julian and Hannah back in town. They brought a refreshing levity to every situation, and it was something he missed when they were gone. Seeing how impressed they were when he showed his status screen was rewarding, and he was proud of how much he’d grown in their absence.

  They were like a lighthouse for him, and he hated that he was struggling to be the same for Elena.

  The problem was, he didn’t know where to start. Harvey had entered this forest unbelievably grateful to have a second chance at life. He’d been scared, but also unwilling to give up and rely on someone else to take his life into their own hands.

  She was different.

  She was scared, too, but happy to hide in someone else’s shadow if it meant living another day. That strategy would keep her alive, but she would never thrive. He could try his best to push her out of the nest, helping her learn to fly on her own, but if he pushed too hard, she’d settle for doing chores for Gary.

  Neither option was acceptable to him, but it also wasn’t really his choice to make, was it?

  He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. Dead leaves crunched beneath his feet like packed snow, and he searched his surroundings for any signs of a target. He wondered about Hannah’s skill. If the bird searched for signs of residual essence use, could it find him a Bloodrunn? Did beasts even use essence like he did? He didn’t see a weave on any of their bodies, but the blood mist could technically be considered a skill.

  It seemed that most species got some kind of bump at level 10, considering the massive boar and the blood-spouting Bloodrunn were both past that threshold. It was frustrating, not knowing the rules of the game he was being forced to play.

  He meandered for a few minutes before a flash in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He froze when a shadow flitted through the trees above him, the dark purple leaves a haunting backdrop, hiding the beast from his sight. He assumed it was a Carrionwing, but couldn’t find it anywhere.

  The silver rings around his eyes glowed faintly as he filled the sigil with essence. The familiar HUD appeared, but showed nothing other than the temperature around him. Apparently, it was 58 degrees Fahrenheit, and his skill was unable or unwilling to show any extra information about the trees.

  It wasn’t much, but keeping the skill active required a small and steady drain on his essence reserves, so when it failed to assist him in finding his prey, he let the light fade.

  Silence was all that met him as he stood motionless, waiting for the bird to strike. When nothing happened for almost a minute, he sighed and started walking again. As he moved, a needle prick buried in his back. Swearing, he grasped at the billowing cloak until his fingers gripped the end of a single, long feather.

  Soft black barbs extended from the hollow shaft down its center, and a dark, runny liquid covered the plumage like oil. It smelled rotten, like meat left to fester in a hot dumpster. His own mud colored blood stained the shaft where it embedded into him.

  Whipping around, he saw the bird sitting on a branch with its wing still flared towards him. Four more large feathers protruded from the rotten flesh, with the other wing decayed down to the bone. It looked like a Raven, and cawed angrily when he looked up at it.

  Before he could react, a second feather was flung his way, headed straight for his living eye. He ducked just in time, the attack sailing over his head just as a third entered his chest. With his upgraded vitality, he barely felt the shallow wound and chose to ignore it as he began launching bolts up into the trees.

  The raven was fast, taking evasive maneuvers in between launching each strange feather. It was obvious this Carrionwing had gotten its level 10 mutation, but if anything, it felt like less of a threat than when it tried ripping him apart with talon and claw. As far as he could tell, it was relying on noxious fumes to take him out.

  Each wingbeat sliced through the air like a knife in a wind tunnel, but he was patient and had essence to spare. Nothing flew out to help it, and he found himself toying with the bird. He purposely sent shots leading in front, testing to see how quickly it could dodge around them. He knew at any moment it could swoop in, resorting to its old tactics, but if it did, he had his fangbreaker ready to go.

  Angry caws filled the forest, the bird seeming annoyed that he hadn’t given up yet. Eventually, a bolt clipped the edge of its bony wing, sending it spinning like a corkscrew straight into a tree. The damage was superficial, but he blasted it again before it figured out the difference between up and down.

  It died with a pained screech, bone rattling as the essence holding its body together lost its shape. The familiar burn of power entering his body accompanied the kill notification, but it was nothing compared to the sickness surging through him. He wanted to vomit, pain and weakness washing over him like he’d been injected with the flu.

  A gentle sizzle met his ears, like someone frying eggs in the next room. Looking down, he saw the robe and undershirt surrounding the feathers corroding away, the oil eating through him like acid. Sickly black and purple bruises surrounded the thick tines, and he yanked each out of his body.

  So that’s why you kept your distance, wanted to let me die so you could enjoy your meal in peace. Harvey groaned.

  He staggered back to camp, praying nothing else showed up to take advantage of his weakened state. He had a health potion if he needed it, but wanted to save it as a last resort.

  The caustic liquid ravaged him on two fronts. He felt his body fighting the physical substance, his vitality struggling to keep the decay at bay and repair his wounded flesh. He also felt his weave fighting a disease that tried to disrupt the pathways he needed to move essence through his body. If his weave were damaged, he’d lose the tools to fight back.

  Luckily, the foreign energy was being destroyed significantly faster than the aspects attacking his flesh. Black smoke was expelled from his weave, the recovery hastening as he forcefully channeled essence around the puncture wounds.

  He didn’t have the right words to describe the feeling, but it was like the strange liquid attacked his body and soul all at once. Something about his attributes let his soul recover faster than his body, and looking at his status screen gave a decent idea as to why.

  He’d wondered why the Arcanist class offered as much Endurance as the Hunter did, and why there was no stat giving him more essence to power strong spells. If it were a video game, a caster like him would have mana that served as the basic fuel for magic, and he’d need to dump points into whatever stat gave him more mana. Instead, he used essence for his skills, but so did everyone else.

  Essence was everything to everyone, and using it was hard on the body. He needed Endurance to handle the load his skills put on his weave. Someone like Julian got more Vitality than Endurance because his body needs to take hits and heal quickly. Julian and Hannah got more Endurance so they could fight longer, move faster, and channel massive amounts of power through their inky veins.

  Within minutes, the spiritual strain was gone, but his body would need time to recover. If the Carrionwing hadn’t been alone, he’d be in a precarious spot right now.

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  He stumbled into town just as the sun began to set, Veilstriders he’d never seen before giving him nervous looks. The acid had thankfully stopped its assault before obliterating his clothes completely, but the holes were impossible to miss.

  Dr. Silva was sitting by the campfire, and rushed over when she saw his wounds.

  “What did this to you? Are you ok?” She fussed.

  “Carrionwing.” He croaked, shocked to hear how hoarse his voice had become. “The stronger ones start shooting feathers covered in acid.”

  “Oh dear, let me help you.” She replied.

  “I’ll be fine. You can save your essence for someone else.” Harvey dismissed.

  “Nonsense, it was a pretty quiet day for the wall crew, and it will benefit me to get experience treating this new type of injury. You wouldn’t want me to get a worse skill at level 10 because you were too stubborn to be treated, would you?” She implored.

  Harvey chuckled and sat beside her, enjoying the gentle warmth from the healing rays emanating from her hands. The rot and decay slowly disappeared as she baked each wound, his body filtering her power through its own vitality to rapidly replace the dead flesh. Within a few minutes, he was as good as new.

  “See, was that so hard?” She asked with a warm smile.

  “Not at all, thanks, doctor. I appreciate it.” Harvey replied, his voice back to normal.

  “Better tell everyone about those Carrionwings. I’m sure we’ll be running into a lot more soon enough.” She said, patting his shoulder.

  He wondered what he should eat for dinner when he finally remembered the kill notification still waiting at the edge of his mind. With a thought, it appeared.

  You have slain Level 10 - Carrionwing. Essence Gained. 896 Merit Earned

  Almost 1000 merit for a single bird made Gary’s decision to buy energy drinks and steak a little less intolerable, and for a moment, he considered treating himself to a feast of his own. He just knew he’d say something smug about the Scoutmaster finally spending a little money, killing the thought in its cradle.

  Besides, he still had a lot to save up for. He wanted his own slipsack and to buy the inscription guide for Elena. Just those two purchases needed 17,500 merit, and he was nowhere close with his current balance of 2,941.

  Resigned to chicken, broccoli, and rice, he bought his dinner and took a seat in the makeshift amphitheater in the street outside the forge. It was already dark when Hannah and Julian finally emerged, still engrossed in their guidebooks. Most people were already done eating and had begun mingling, but nobody complained when Julian asked them to gather up.

  “Sorry, we missed dinner. We were busy diving into these guidebooks Harvey told us about.” Julian announced. “I’m sure you’ve all noticed the empty slot on your status screen for a profession. We finally figured out how to fill it.”

  Julian waited, leaving room for the ooh’s and ahh’s a revelation like that endeared. If there were crickets in the forest, now was the perfect time to chirp.

  “Umm, a few of us already got professions yesterday!” A veilstrider who’d arrived with the second batch called out.

  “You did?” Julian asked, staring at Harvey.

  He shook his head. He hadn’t heard anything about people getting a profession other than himself. Elena hadn’t mentioned anything either, but to be fair, they’d been holed up in the smithy most of the time.

  “Yeah! Gary got one yesterday afternoon, and then a few of us on the logging crew got the notification we could create one this morning.” The man replied.

  “That’s amazing! I had no idea. What professions did everyone get?” Julian asked.

  “Mine’s called Lumberjack. It’s Common rarity.” The man replied.

  “I got Carpenter, also Common.” The woman leading the building crew announced.

  “Outpost Commander. Epic.” Gary shouted, quieiting the crowd.

  Harvey’s heart sank. He thought his own Rare profession was impressive, but if Gary had managed to get an Epic one, they were in trouble. He saw a similar look of concern cross Julian’s face, but he managed to hide it just as fast as it appeared.

  “Wow, that’s impressive, Gary. Congratulations!” Julian replied.

  “Guess The System thought I was a better fit, seeing as you’re never around anymore, Bossman. Gave me the keys to the kingdom.” Gary continued, standing up and walking towards the front, his ruthless aura on full display.

  “What kingdom? We’re all…” Julian began.

  “3 Vitality, 2 Endurance, 5 Strength, and 5 Willpower. Every level.” Gary interrupted, a smug smile on his face. “Helps me kill all the sorry critters attacking my wall crew every day.”

  Fifteen per level? Epic indeed. Harvey worried.

  “That’s… pretty strong!” Julian continued.

  “Co-rrect.” Gary replied, enunciating each syllable. “So I started thinking. Why are you still in charge when you’re never here?”

  “What makes you think I’m in charge?” Julian asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” a wicked grin cracked the bushy beard hiding his second chin, “maybe that mark on your hand. The fact that you’re always bossing us around. Making these speeches. Running this place like some cult.”

  A few Veilstriders Harvey recognized as part of the wall crew nodded along, but the majority of the camp looked appalled.

  “What the hell?” Hannah asked, stepping up to Gary. “All Julian’s done is rescue people, feed them, and try to help us work together. Where you got cult leader from any of that is beyond me!”

  She stared daggers at the much taller man, barely standing taller than his tubby stomach, but fearless in his shadow. He bellowed a hearty laugh, but a wave of anger radiated out from the crowd.

  “If that’s true, he won’t mind taking a step back so the Outpost Commander can do his job? Command.” Gary growled.

  “Sit down, Gary. The System can call you whatever it wants, but it doesn’t give you the right to act like this.” A man shouted from the crowd.

  “Oh, really? I think it does. Might makes right and all that.” Gary continued.

  “That’s a good line! I’ve got another one for you. Play stupid games and win stupid prizes!” Dr. Silva shouted back.

  “Nobody runs Veil’s End, Gary. Nobody’s in charge, nobody has any more power over what happens here than anyone else. This isn’t a middle school where we’re fighting over who gets to be class president. We’re in a warzone, and everyone is doing their best to survive.” Julian explained.

  The crowd nodded, and rage flashed on Gary’s face. He wanted to argue, and Harvey could see the muscle on his arms peek through the fat. Anger boiled under his own skin at the audacity of a man like him to attack Julian publicly. The man who had saved every single person in Veil’s End, other than Gary himself. He wanted to start hurling bolts into his pig head right then and there, but managed to hold his temper.

  “Are you kidding…” Gary began.

  “Just sit down. All I wanted to do was explain how the guidebooks in the shop work, but if you’re so worried about me giving speeches, we can have Harvey do it.” Julian encouraged.

  Reluctantly, Gary took his seat next to Amy and put his arm around her. For a single moment, disgust marred her pretty face before she schooled her expression and placed a loving hand on his leg. Julian grabbed Hannah and pulled her to a log next to him, and all eyes turned to Harvey.

  Anger was replaced with shock as the rest of Julian’s sentence finally processed, and he shot to his feet.

  “Umm, yeah. Hi everyone.” Harvey began. “That’s great to hear that some of you were able to get a profession for free. The books in the shop are pretty expensive at 10,000 merit a piece, but they can get your foot in the door if you want to try something that’s not easy to practice out here.”

  He continued, explaining how the books were single-use and the notification he got once he finished reading. Dr. Silva also encouraged him to share his experience with the Carrionwing, so he was stuck at the front for a while. He usually didn’t mind public speaking, but the tension in the air was thick.

  A few more veilstriders got up to share experiences and insights they had that would benefit the group, and before long, everyone was off to bed. Harvey watched Elena follow dutifully behind Gary, sick to his stomach when he saw Amy holding his hand.

  Julian and Hannah joined him in the forge, content to read their guidebooks while he checked on his batch of charcoal in the kiln. Satisfied he’d burned through the unwanted elements, he shoveled it outside and got to work on his next batch.

  Nobody wanted to talk about the confrontation, but they couldn’t escape the poison hanging in the air.

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