Tell me your class, he commanded.

  It was as much as I expected. He’d been watching my fight with the lizards, likely through one of the lizards’ eyes, and realized that my class was… unorthodox.

  The only thing that really determined the identity of a class was the skill it granted and the skill cores that it granted when its bearer leveled.

  Because one of those skill cores had to be present in every skill, a creature could only build the “pure” skill—the skill made of only one type of key or core—of its skill core. A druid, with their [*Wild] skill cores, could build [Wild Bond]... but they could never build [Earth Magick], the pure [Earth] skill, because every skill they built would have a [*Wild] core in it.

  So-called “pure” skills tended to be very useful and powerful, but also the most limited in who was able to build them.

  There was a crucial exception to all of this, however—and most of us called it the subtype rule. Certain key and core types had subtypes: for example, [Life] was a subtype of [Wild] and [Fire] was a subtype of [Elemental].

  When a skill key or skill core was fused with one of its subtypes, it emulated that subtype for the purposes of skill creation, essentially functioning as the same type of skill key. Hence [*Fire 2] +

  [Fire 2] would make [Fire Magick 4], and [*Elemental 2] + [Fire 2] would make… [Fire Magick 4].

  A druid had [*Wild] skill cores. They could not only make the pure [*Wild] skill, [Wild Bond], but the pure [Life] skill, [Life Magick], because [Life] was a subtype of [Wild].

  All of this could do much to explain why I was so powerful. My skill core was [*Primeval 5]... and [Primeval] was at the top of the pyramid. Among its subtypes were [Body], [Elemental], [Surge], and [Wild]... and it included all of their subtypes as its own.

  Most classes could make between 1 and 6 “pure” skills, with more becoming available as their tier increased. Not counting the different animal and plant subtypes of wild, I could make more than 10.

  And I had the only known class that could ever possess my granted skill, [Primeval Power], the skill that doubled my [Primeval Resonance] to give me an absurd bonus to channeling speed and my attribute-increasing passive skills.

  The only skill I’d built so far that didn’t take advantage of the subtype rule was [Primeval Armor]. It wasn’t a pure skill because [Armor] wasn’t a subtype of [Primeval], and so the two combined to make a skill that was more limited than most pure skills, including the actual pure [Armor] skill, [Armor Mastery].

  But everything else I’d built so far—[Life Magick], [Earth Magick], and [Wild Bond]—were pure skills because my [*Primeval] skill cores were emulating their subtypes.

  And it had only been a matter of time before my distant hunter, Palefang, took note of this. In fact, if he’d been watching through the eyes of the first cat I’d killed—and I wasn’t sure that he had—he’d known that I’d taken [Earth Magick] mid-combat, not arrived with it.

  This all meant that he might have guessed that my skill cores were [*Primeval], not [*Wild]. And if he had guessed as much, or even suspected as much, I might be meeting him very, very soon.

  If he hadn’t put it together right away, it was easy to see how watching me kill the lizard with two rune circles had certainly given him another chance to think about it.

  And even if he wasn’t worried about my core type, there was the straightforward fact that I was getting too powerful, too fast. My [Sable Grace] was bolstering my attributes much higher than what levels should grant, my skills made with common keys started off at rank 6, and my raw spellcasting abilities likely made it seem like I had spent more [Bestow] on casting attributes than was possible.

  Tell me your class, little one, he repeated insistently.

  I am an [Earthheart Wildspeaker], I said, using the Verse to send him a rare class, a tier 3, which gave [Earth Magick 12] as its granted ability and [*Wild 3] as its skill cores.

  You are a liar, he said. The weak always deceive.

  Then he sent me an image: himself, lying in the smoking ruins of some ferns, the half-dissolved remains of a great cat lying nearby along with the scattered, smoking remnants of the ooze he’d just blasted to instant death with lightning. You stripped the aspect from this place, he said. I can feel it.

  So he knew how to coalesce boons. I also had to wonder if he’d needed to descend to that rocky shelf I’d fought on earlier in order to keep in contact with me using [Wild Bond].

  Your [Earth Magick] comes from a key, not your class. As does your [Wild Bond]. As does your [Life Magick]. Show me your class, little one…. or my interest in you ends.

  There was no mistaking it for anything other than a threat. And while I could take my chances by using the [Wild Bond] to hide from him, it made more sense to see if I could hold him at bay as long as possible—by telling the truth.

  I am a [Primeval Champion], I said.

  And I let the knowledge of the Verse wash over me, essentially reading it along with my enemy.

  [Primeval Champion]

  Class Calling:

  Grow, foster, and protect yourself, your pack, and your territory.

  Be passionate, cunning, and strong.

  Class Core:

  [*Primeval 5]

  Granted Skill:

  [Primeval Power 30]

  Components: [*Primeval 5] + 5 [Primeval 5]

  [Primeval Resonance] × 2.00

  Primeval Mana Profile + 40%

  Locked: this skill is your class’s granted skill; it cannot be relinquished or modified.

  I waited for him to finish taking this in. It was possible that I had simply seen the class elsewhere and was lying to him again… but this time, when he spoke, it wasn’t with a laugh.

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  Tell me your [Primeval Resonance], little one, Palefang commanded.

  My [Primeval Resonance] is usually around 50%, I said. Base, that is.

  ?—Your [Primeval Resonance]:

  58% Base, 116% Effective.

  I read this, then added: Right now it’s 58% base.

  A laugh sounded in my mind, cold and harsh. What will you do, little one, when your lies offend me more than they amuse me?

  Run fast and hard, I said. But this time I do not lie; my resonance is 58% base.

  I waited for Palefang to respond. He’d never been trained, and had likely had less time to practice than I did, and was also likely just less naturally talented, and so I didn’t expect him to believe me.

  But he’d asked in the first place. After watching me fight the lizard using magic that he didn’t understand, perhaps he was ready to believe the unbelievable.

  58, he said back. Then he laughed, clearly dismissing the thought as a lie. Tell me—how do you know of this class?

  I smiled. Even if I was lying, I had to have seen it somewhere to reference it using the Verse.

  I didn’t know Palefang well, but I could guess that he wanted more of what had gotten him where he was now:

  Power.

  Shall I tell you now so that you have no reason to keep me alive? I asked. Watch me. Let me prove to you that I truly do have this class, this power of all powers. Then I will show you the way.

  Are all elves like you, Aziriel?

  My mouth curled into a smile. I had never learned, as so many of us did, to cower at the sight of my own ambitions or to buckle beneath the weight of my might.

  No, I said. Among the elves, there are none like me. Only I am [Primeval Champion].

  Another cold laugh. Tell me, then: how did you come about it, this class?

  Do you bargain? I asked.

  He growled. Bargain.

  It was clear that he didn’t much think he should have to bargain for anything—he took what he wanted, and he took it with force. It was hardly a surprise to me. Animals with sapience were often temperamental, utterly unable to control their emotions and impulses, inclined to rip another creature to pieces out of anger or envy.

  And what would an elf be, if they had raised themselves apart from all other elves in a place like this and come to dominate as this creature had? Little more than a monster, I expected.

  I very much desire to keep my life, I said.

  And to kill me, added Palefang.

  For what gain? I asked. Territory? Essence? I can seek either without fighting a prince.

  Prince, he echoed, examining the word.

  Does it not suit you? I asked. You rule this territory. Your will is unopposable. I am powerful, yes—but I must ask your permission simply to live. You are a prince.

  Perhaps.

  I ask that we strike this bargain, O prince: I will kill in your territory, grow strong enough that I believe I can survive you, should you come hunting. Then, knowing that I am safe, I will show you how to become [Primeval Champion].

  Palefang heard all of this, then sent me only an emotion in response, a kind of brooding consideration. He said no more.

  It all depended on how afraid of me he was. I wouldn’t grant much essence or any powerful cores, and so truly, he had no real reason to kill me but fear.

  And while my magic might have impressed him, the sheer amount of attributes he’d needed to throw that lightning bolt meant that he likely wouldn’t find me threatening for a long while—not until it was too late.

  I smiled. Even if he came now, I could likely evade him, draw him back to the insect hive and try to use my [Wild Bond] to wake them.

  But if I could get an [Air] key….

  I saw light ahead. I’d been slowly descending, careful not to make much noise or many vibrations for fear of waking the dormant hive. Now, as the cave leveled out beneath my feet and the walls became rougher and more natural, I saw a slice of reddish light appear ahead—an opening.

  There was a creature in the way—a massive, green and red-speckled frilled-neck lizard, apparently unbothered by the fact that it had made its nest at the entrance to a giant hive of dormant insects.

  It reared up as it saw me—and I dropped my spear, grabbed my bow, and launched an arrow that punched deep into the creature’s throat, the strength of my draw increased considerably by my new attributes.

  Its warbled cry was cut off by the sound of its punctured throat, and it charged as I pulled my spear back to my hand, then crouched, waiting to lunge forward when it came into range—or potentially dodge aside.

  The lizard charged, but as it ran it mounted the cave wall, its charge unhindered by its sudden change of orientation. It shifted onto the ceiling just above me as it reached me, then opened its mouth and spat out a gout of green fluid along with a cloud of green mist.

  I dove beneath these, coming up in a roll to duck a strike from its tail, then pivoting to jab it with my spear—but this only struck it in the flank, so I backed off, tearing a stone from the ground and calling it to my free hand.

  The lizard turned in place, let out a cry when it saw me—and I shot the rock into its mouth. It lurched, coughed—and I assaulted it with [Wild Bond], making all of its muscles relax for an instant.

  It fell from the roof of the cave, and I charged forward and thrust my spear downward into the underside of its jaw, piercing it through and ramming my spear into its brain.

  + 2104 Essence, [Boon]

  I yanked my spear free, then knelt beside it to examine its inner vitals with [Life Magick] in case I found more. It had been about as strong as the cat I’d fought, if far easier to kill. The benefit of even a little [Strength] was that I could actually force my spear through their [Aegis]-reinforced flesh.

  And I was only going to get stronger. I had 2 cores remaining, and when I reached into it with my magical senses, I saw that the [Boon] I’d just gained held one of the keys that I very much needed:

  You break [Boon] to create a [Body 1] skill key.

  You fuse [*Primeval 5] with [Body 1] to create the skill: [Might 6]

  [Might 6]

  Components: [*Primeval 5] + [Body 1]

  + 22 [Aegis]

  + 22 [Agility]

  + 22 [Strength]

  “Ah,” I said, grip tightening around my spear. Of the three general categories for a primeval class to fall into—[Body], [Elemental], and [Wild]—[Body] was, in my opinion, the best for overall fighting. Too many strong powers that didn’t need to be compromised for.

  A bow with a draw strength of hundreds of pounds was nice, but why stop there? The pure [Body] ability was an old, old friend, both to me and every other berserker I’d ever known.

  I bought another level, spend the bestow on [Strength], then queried for my attributes:

  You spend 2250 Essence to gain 1 level! You are now level 12 / 12

  You gain 1 [Bestow 10]!

  You spend 1 [Bestow 10] to add 10 to your [Strength]. Your [Strength] is now 84.

  ?—Your Attributes:

  34 [Aegis] + 68 [Primeval Armor]

  64 [Agility]

  84 [Strength]

  4 [Channel]

  41 [Focus]

  28 [Source]

  10 [Bestow]

  108% [Primeval Resonance]

  280/280 Mana — 40% Primeval

  Finally I stepped outside, took in the strange red-tinted overworld, and burst into a smile of wonderment.

  “It’s… beautiful,” I said.