“Rey, are you ok over there?”

  Owen had changed shifts with Purity at some point and both Harald and Owen were now standing a couple feet away from Reyleigh with similar expressions of worry, tinged with a small dose of excitement.

  “Yeah… It’s just so much… stuff. So many things to understand.” She looked down at her hands before clenching them. “So much power…”.

  Harald walked over and touched her shoulder.

  “Rey, what class did you get? The way you came back from that wound. The screaming when you touched the Orb. I’ve never heard of anything like it…”

  For a sweet moment, Reyleigh contemplated telling the truth. She envisioned her friends crowding around her, fearing her Class at first, but quickly realising its potential and rejoicing with her. The mirage quickly shattered into a thousand pieces and harsh reality forced her to do what had to be done.

  She shook her head. Hesitating for but a moment, she lied smoothly.

  “I got an elven Class. It’s called Elven Warrior. You know how elves eat raw flesh, right? Well, I was drenched in it and it seems they don’t do it just for fun…” Reyleigh looked down, fear warring with shame as lie after lie spewed from her mouth.

  She knew that the citizens of Unbern would shun, fear, and most importantly, remain unaware of an elven Class. The lie she had concocted would also reinforce the same preconceptions of savagery she had endured throughout her entire life. Last but not least, it was miles better than admitting to being a Blood Warrior.

  “Shit.” Owen swore.

  Reyleigh raised her head and forced herself to meet the eyes of her friends.

  Harald took a step back in horror at her words, and Owen followed. Cold fear crawled through her insides at the sight of them recoiling from her mere presence. Terror must have shown on her face as Owen caught himself in the act and managed to stop half-way. His wide eyes and shocked expression flickering to disgust before he mastered himself, but not before she had seen it.

  Seen what her lie had done, and she knew within her soul that admitting the truth would have been so much worse.

  She raised her hand unconsciously as if she were grasping for her two friends, but let it fall as she reigned in her emotions the same way she had done a million times before. Letting them wash over her before she ruthlessly beat them into submission and buried them deep. When she was done Reyleigh felt numb. The only thing left inside her was icy anger and fear-induced pain. However hard she tried, those two feelings slipped through her grasp and replaced everything else. She could feel them eating away at her innermost places, eating at something close to her core.

  Something snapped, and she knew that she had lost something important in that moment. There was no more time to ruminate. Her former friends stood waiting for her to say something.

  “Y..” her voice broke before she cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes. It’s not… It’s not good. But I’m alive.”

  Silence followed her statement. Harald and Owen shared a look, and Reyleigh could spot the uncertainty that passed between them. The moment stretched on, the wind and birds their only accompaniment for a long time before Owen finally opened his mouth to speak. Reyleigh was shaking. The mess of anger and pain making her incapable of moving.

  A twig snapped.

  As one, the three of them turned to face it, hands on weapons.

  It was Purity. She jumped down from a nearby tree, and Reyleigh knew she had broken the twig on purpose. Her body had a fluid grace to it now that she hadn’t had before gaining her Class. Her movements were too precise to allow her to make sounds like that unconsciously anymore.

  “My ears are so much better now.”

  Purity explained as her eyes rested on each of them in turn.

  Reyleigh looked away and studied the ground.

  Purity paused, letting out a small breath.

  “Your Class will help.”

  Rayleigh twitched as she felt Purity’s hand on her shoulder. She continued studying the soft soil of the forest, unwilling to see another look of pure disgust directed at her.

  Purity’s hand tightened and slowly drew her into a hug. At first, she was stiff, every muscle clenched in anticipation of hurt. But when no ridicule or violence followed the gesture, her muscles seemed to melt into the smaller girl’s embrace.

  She sobbed.

  Snot and tears stained the soft leather armour she was hiding her face in. It didn’t last long. She quickly re-erected the wall behind which her feelings had escaped, but this time the slippery cold anger and pain were slightly more subdued. A sense of wonderment blossomed inside her as she realised what that embrace had meant. She was not alone, and Purity at least would not abandon her. A tear rolled down her cheek. She nodded and sniffed before clearing her throat. She didn’t know why the small girl—which she had only just met—had done something like this for her, but in that instant, it didn’t matter.

  “Thanks Purity. It… it means a lot.”

  “Yeah, course you Class will help!” Owen put on some fake cheer as he joined in. “It’s probably powerful as all hell. Elves being what they are and all—”

  Harald cleared his throat and spoke, too. “Of course. Power is good, and it’s better in your hands than the other ba—other elves.”

  They were forcing it, and it hurt like hell. But at least they weren’t attacking her, or contemplating it anymore.

  What if I had told them the truth? Would we be fighting now? Would I have to kill my friends?

  The implications of her new Class frightened her. The secrecy, the lies, the solitude. She shivered when her future flashed before her eyes. It would only get worse.

  The anger rose again, threatening to overwhelm her. Whatever she lost when she saw Owen’s disgust prevented her from being able to stuff in behind the wall with the rest of her feelings. For a second she struggled before she realised that even though Purity had let go of their embrace, she was still holding her hand. The small palm enveloping her own squeezed softly. With that small gesture, the drowning anger turned into determination.

  She would survive.

  She would wield unimaginable power. She would prove herself. Prove that she could be useful, that she could repay Alistair for saving her and Purity for standing by her. Her Class would turn from a curse into a boon, and she would show them all.

  She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Being a watchman was probably not in the cards anymore. She would have to find another—

  “I hear something!” Purity hissed.

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  The warmth of her hand left Reyleigh’s own when she crouched in a combat stance, her off-hand moving in strange patterns while her main hand clutched her mace.

  “It’s big. It’s coming from there.” Her finger pointed behind the massive tree in which the dungeon resided.

  Reyleigh reflexively got ready for combat. She moved cautiously to the bags lying in a pile beside the fire. If something happened, she needed her weapon, and she saw her greatsword propped up against her pack.

  The sudden quiet within the clearing was deafening as she moved gracefully, trying to not to make a sound.

  While she stalked toward her sword and pack, Harald and Owen drew their weapons. The smaller man held both his long daggers in a reverse grip and was creeping towards a nook in the massive tree, perfect for an ambush. Harald readied his shield and stood in the open, trying to create an opening for his smaller friend. The instinctive teamwork was a sight to behold. They had trained and drilled to be prepared for these kinds of situations, but to see the result was still shocking in its efficiency. Purity moved towards her natural place behind Harald, not quite as seamless in her integration into the formation.

  Reyleigh knew she needed to position herself behind Harald as well and use her greatswords’ reach to harass their foes if it came to battle. The last fight had been a scramble, but now that they had some warning—and no Themis to stupidly give away their position—they could utilise their honed skills. Tightening her grip on the handle of her blade, she soundlessly drew it from its well-oiled sheath. Blood still slicked the blade, slowing the draw. It would need a scrubbing after this.

  Before moving into position, she bent down and grabbed her locket from its secured place within the lid of her pack, clasping it around her neck. She couldn’t explain why she needed to do so, but the impulse felt entirely too right to ignore. She hoped the delay wouldn’t cost her.

  Taking measured steps toward Harald’s back, she froze when she heard leaves rustling behind her. With her sword ready, she turned around. She didn’t dare cry out to warn the others in the tense silence without good reason, so instead she quickly scanned the treeline. Behind the thick foliage she caught the glint of steel.

  An ambush or help?

  Not sure what to make of it, she was just about to warn the others—a scream at the ready—but as she was about to let all hell break loose; her scream turned into a gasp as a familiar face followed by polished armour brushed the branches clumsily aside.

  It was Themis.

  So much had happened since the fight with the ogre, so his original presence had basically slipped her mind. Seeing him now was not the blessing it should have been.

  Was he here to betray them? Or had he fled like a coward, leaving them to die? Had he gone to get help?

  So many questions ran through her mind, but none of them mattered, since she couldn’t ask them without giving away their position. She put a finger to her lips, signing him to keep quiet and pointed towards where Harald was looming with Purity behind him. His sudden appearance fanned her uneasiness, and she resolved to keep him in her line of sight.

  Themis rolled his eyes at her obvious distrust. His exasperation was almost comical, seeing as he moved through the forest with no grace at all, as if he was trying to give away their position. Granted, his mangled left leg didn’t do him any favours.

  He flashed her a disgusted look, which Reyleigh promptly returned. His demeanour really hadn’t changed at all, even now.

  Themis gestured to his greatsword and made it clear he was there to fight. His armour’s polished shine twinkled in the morning sun, announcing his presence to everything in sight, but dirty patches and dents thankfully marred it in more than a few places. A small gash was dripping fresh blood from Themis’ temple, adding to the impression that his time alone had been anything but easy.

  Assured that despite his incompetent arrival, Themis seemed to be there to help, Reyleigh turned her back on him and took in the developing situation closer to the tree trunk.

  There were no visible enemies yet, but she could hear heavy footfalls. They were much too heavy to be human, and she gulped when she realised she could make out at least three pairs. It didn’t take long before she finally saw what they were up against.

  “Shit! Not again!” Harald swore, breaking the silence. His shout was loud by design in order to turn the intruder’s attention toward him. “They brought some green friends this time!”.

  Reyleigh spotted what Harald was referring to. Three ogres came lumbering around an outcropping in the tree trunk about a hundred meters from their formation. Owen was a little closer, but he was hidden in an indent, patiently waiting to ambush their enemies. Behind the ogres ran six small-statured humanoids about a third the size of a Harald. Long arms and pointy ears accompanied dirty linen clothes and primal jewellery adorning their filthy, emaciated bodies. They chittered amongst themselves, baring their needle-like teeth and spitting globules of drool all over themselves and the ground.

  Goblins were creatures of filth. They had featured extensively in the Watches’ lectures due to their proclivity for attacking populated human settlements. Even though they seldom attacked Unbern itself anymore, they had been the downfall of all the attempts at starting satellite farming villages or outposts. The creatures themselves were neither strong nor clever, but they bred like rabbits and matured much faster than most other races. Because of their sheer numbers and virulent breeding habits, Goblins usually spawned several unique individuals that rose to lead the masses. This single trait made them a threat to be reckoned with. Unbern conducted regular forays to keep the population down and remove any uniques before they could gather an army.

  As far as Reyleigh knew, it wasn’t the dungeons that spawned them near the city, but they still appeared frequently. Stories made them out to be akin to natural disasters, springing up as if they grew from the ground itself.

  The ogres were the same type as the one they had fought previously but without the sickly green colouring. This could mean that the one they had battled previously was a unique, making Reyleigh hope beyond hope that the new pack didn’t have the same magical abilities.

  While analysing the monsters, she sped up her steps toward Harald and was just a few meters away. On instincts she surveyed the coming battlefield and realised retreat would be impossible, mostly because there weren’t any good ways to get out of the clearing without the ogres and goblins catching up to them. Both species had a reputation for being excellent trackers and trail runners. The ogres were fast, and she knew from their lessons that they had almost unlimited stamina, so running back to Unbern was out of the question. The situation was one of life or death; either they triumphed here with their newly gained Classes and sheer grit or they all perished. She heard Themis swear behind her as he realised the same thing.

  Reluctantly, Reyleigh eyed the door to the dungeon. She had avoided looking at it until now, but she knew it would be their last hope if all else failed. Fleeing into a dungeon for safety was laughably stupid, but would remain as their absolute last resort.

  Finally, she reached her position a couple of meters behind and to the right of Harald. She was using him as cover so she could attack from relative safety at an unpredictable angle once the enemies arrived. Speaking of the lumbering brutes and their filthy hanger-on’s, they had covered half the distance already and were speeding up.

  “Reyleigh!”

  Themis ran up to her while she was getting into position. “We need to get out of here. That ogre decimated us earlier and Alistair has obviously abandoned us to die. We need to go into the dungeon. The dungeon won’t let foreign monsters inside and there are never enemies at the entrance! I… I can’t make it in there alone. Call the retreat! They’ll listen to you!”

  He gestured to the others.

  Themis’ pleading tone shocked Reyleigh to her core. He showed courage earlier against the other ogre, but also suddenly disappeared after the battle. Even if he tried to abandon them like a coward, she never thought he would admit weakness like this in front of them all.

  “Be quiet! Harald is Taunting them. Follow his lead. The ogres look different from the one we fought earlier. I think they’re normal. Keep behind me and use your fucking sword for something useful for once!” Reyleigh hissed back. “And don’t even think of running away again. You’re a fucking watchman! We do not abandon each other.”

  His eyes widened at her vehement reply, but before he could retort, she turned her back to him.

  “Come get your dinner, you ugly fucks!” Harald shouted just as the creatures descended upon him like a wall of meat and legs.

  With a massive bellow, he charged to meet them, his legs pumping and his shield leading the way. His massive muscles bulged as he braced for the coming impact and Reyleigh could hear the fabric of his armour strain as it threatened to rip. Reyleigh realised they hadn’t had the time to hear what Class he had gotten—which wasn’t a surprise considering what had happened—but she still recognised the skill as Bulwark. It was a staple for most shield using classes and increased Harald’s defence and resilience, making his skin and muscles hard to cut or bruise and amplifying his strength when using his shield.

  Reyleigh followed him at a set distance. She was faster and lither than the hulking frontliner which meant she easily kept pace. The tense atmosphere anticipating the impending bloodshed made her new powers stir inside her. She tried for a second to push them back down but realised she couldn’t—and wouldn’t—hide from her newfound skills.

  Lying dead in a pool of my own blood helps no one.

  With that resolution, she let her powers surge inside her. Blood Sense filled her nostrils with an intoxicating smell, while Blood Manipulation crashed through her veins like a river of fire, pumping energy into her muscles at a furious pace. Heady from the sense and smell of dry blood around her and on her, she could hardly contain her bubbling excitement. She felt the rising desire to release all her bottled-up feelings from behind the wall she had erected and make these creatures pay for what her life had become.