The four of us sit around the campfire in the late afternoon, enjoying a meal of pterosaur stew. With the heat of the day long gone, the cool breeze takes over, filling our campsite with a pleasant sensation to complement our meal.

  A meal which, in accordance with all cliches involving the phrase, actually tastes a lot like chicken. I guess birds being the modern descendants of dinosaurs also applies to the taste of their flesh when seared over an open flame, charbroiled to… not perfection. Chloe and I working together are decent cooks, but no [Master Chef]s capable of whipping up a [Heroes Feast] or similar type of Skill, delicious foods that raise our combat parameters while leaving us immune to poisons, hunger, thirst, and other such maladies.

  Still, no one complains at not having to eat whatever monstrous calamity Lindsey would have cooked had she been given control over the kitchen. I haven’t had the displeasure of experiencing it firsthand, but considering the caliber and taste of the people who’ve warned me in no uncertain terms, I’m disinclined to experiment on that much.

  Unfortunately, even a good half-hour soak in the makeshift earthen tub wasn’t enough to fully get that stank of dinosaur shit out of my hair. It’s not so bad, though whether that’s a function of nose-blindness or the diminished scent after mostly washing it out, I can’t tell. It’s bad enough that Kristil has moved to the opposite side of the campfire to avoid me, but not so bad that Chloe isn’t still clinging on me as she’s always wont to do.

  “So, Kristil,” Lindsey asks. “How do you think you did in our first battle working among the four of us?”

  “I think I did alright,” she says after a pause. “I don’t have the flexibility that Sera does nor the power that you do, which irritates me. But I did get up to level 23 from that scuffle, so that’s a definite positive. No new spells, sadly.”

  Chloe had said something similar a while back; she mentioned how her class gives her predetermined spells when she hits certain level thresholds. Her basic heal at level 1, Antidote at level 3, a stronger heal at level 9, a heal spell that can affect multiple allies at level 19, and so forth. Very different from how I’ve had to gain access to my class’s spellcasting through a lot of experimentation.

  “I’d like to compliment Kristil,” I say. “Her spell gave me the idea for how to bring those dinos down. Her erratic attacks, unaimed and allowed to flow freely like lightning does, showed me that I should go for a wide-area attack, rather than try and fail to aim my attacks at the swiftly moving raptors. And Chloe deserves kudos as well; her decision to appear weak was the perfect bait to end what could have been a long, drawn-out affair.”

  Chloe squeezes my arm. “I remember that lecture from last year as well, Sera.”

  “Can I learn to cast spells like that?” Kristil asks me.

  “I don’t know. It seems that you need the requisite Glyph Manipulation skill to even start trying to learn how to work with glyphs, and I have a special Class Skill that helps me when I’m experimenting. Do you at least have [Basic Ether Manipulation]?”

  “Yeah, I get that as a Class Skill myself. It helps with learning [Mage’s Meditation] to enhance my [Ether] recovery.”

  Because of course the classes that don’t need [Ether] as much as I do get access to Skills that give them even more regeneration. At least I have my ring to help out with that at least a little. I try to hide my frustration with the System, although Chloe seems to notice the tension.

  “I can try to teach you what I know about glyphs then. I can’t promise that you’ll be able to build your own spells on the fly like I can, but if you can learn a few basic spells, that should go a long way.”

  “Say,” Lindsey says. “You seem to think a lot about the System and how it works, Sera. Why do you think there are different classes anyway?”

  I pause. It’s a question I’ve pondered, but not since my most recent batch of memories has awakened. And surprising even me, the answer has changed a bit since then.

  “I think it’s two different things. First, the System wants to establish guardrails to make sure people don’t make really, really foolish decisions. Let’s suppose that we have people who take some wildly disparate Skills with an unfocused class. A real dilettante. They try to advance on the battlefield, but find themselves completely unable to contribute to battles without needing a lot of babying. And the System doesn’t want that, especially at low levels. So the System assigns some guardrails, makes sure we all have at least enough of a focus to approach usefulness.

  “But on the other hand,” I continue, “Let’s say that someone— or something— had a bunch of inside knowledge about how the System works. As in, the sort of knowledge that they wouldn’t normally be able to access. Then, these restrictions have the opposite effect, preventing someone from amassing a collection of particularly synergistic Skills, spells, and other parameters. It’s like how I have very powerful [Glyphcasting], but I don’t have the [Ether] regeneration rate that Chloe has, nor Kristil’s [Mage’s Meditation] Skill.”

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  “The same way soldiers are trained for a specific role?” Kristil asks.

  “Sort of. But also, the System doesn’t want there to be one specific route to power. If it wanted to collapse human society completely, it would have done so already. And one of the ways we could collapse society is if there was a single path that led to ultimate, unbridled power.”

  “And why is that a problem?” Kristil asks.

  “Because an army needs more than generals to function,” Lindsey responds. “We need officers to guide soldiers, but we also need people on the front lines, people handling the equipment, the logistics, the meals. I sure as hell can’t do that last one!”

  We all laugh.

  “Just like we need truck drivers, merchants and retailers, doctors and medics, office workers, farmers, and everyone else who makes modern life possible,” Chloe adds.

  I nod. “Some of us will choose the path of a soldier. But plenty more won’t. And the System probably doesn’t want to punish the people who don’t.”

  “But then why do we all need to fight monsters to gain Experience to advance in levels?” Kristil asks. “Isn’t that what this Order of the Wilds is all about?”

  “Do we know that’s completely, definitively true for all people in all situations?” Lindsey asks. “All of us have combat-focused classes, but that’s not to say that everyone does.”

  “And besides, we got bonus Experience when we cleared a dungeon,” I add. “I get bonus stats whenever I max out the ranks on a Skill. Who’s to say that that’s not true for other people as well? A farmer might get bonus Experience for a successful harvest and more stats as one learns different farming techniques. An electrician and plumber both improve as they gain experience through apprenticeships and other job training. I’m not going to assume even for a moment that I know all there is about the System and how it works.”

  “I guess that would be a blind spot for me,” Lindsey says. “I’ve been in the military my entire adult life. Most of the people I know are either military or ex-military, and nearly all of them have some sort of [Soldier] or [Ranger] or other combat-related class. Makes sense why I’d jump to assuming the same is true of every class.”

  Chloe gives me a wistful smile and rubs her hand against my thigh before looking up toward the twilight sky. My hand wraps around hers, and for a few moments, there’s no sound but the light rustle of nearby trees and the crackle of our evening fire.

  “Anyway, you two,” Lindsey says. “Before you go all lovey-dovey on us, we should probably finish the end of our report.”

  “I have a question for you, Sera,” Kristil starts. “Why did your spell take so long to form? I’ve never had a spell that took more than a few seconds to cast.”

  “Because glyphs are extremely finicky. I can Manifest a couple of glyphs together using my own power, but for anything more complicated than three glyphs, I have to trace them all out by hand. And while most of my spells aren’t more than three or four glyphs, there’s still dozens of linking runes and definitions that all have to be drawn perfectly. A single error of drawing a stroke at the wrong angle can cause the whole array to backfire. Which is how I lost my arm a couple months back.”

  “Seems like you’re coping.”

  “Thanks to a lot of sleepless nights and a lot of help from a lot of people who wanted to thank me for my sacrifice.”

  Kristil shudders. “Maybe I should take a raincheck on that glyph instruction.”

  “If you change your mind, let me know.”

  That does remind me that I’ve still promised Nicholas his treatise on glyphs and Ethertech, as per our agreement. I have made a ton of progress over the last two months, but not as much as he’s likely to accept. And yes, he did agree that I’d have time to train and gain levels in combat, but it has been a good while without much progress on that front.

  Worse, I haven’t seen Alana stop by either, not since the day before we left Ft. Still. And that introduces its own slate of worries, most of which involve something unpleasant happening which has demanded her full attention and presence.

  I do worry about the situation back home. Even if my biological mother is gone, I still hope that Mrs. Jacobs is doing well, our falling out of sorts aside.

  Chloe yawns. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to head to sleep. I’ll take last watch, if you don’t mind.”

  “I guess I’ll take the ugly watch as usual,” Lindsey says.

  Kristil tries to object, but is quickly shot down.

  “I’m acclimated to falling asleep quickly and in unpleasant situations. You three aren’t. Third watch is hell on your sleep cycle, and that’s that. You mind taking the first watch?”

  Kristil nods.

  “Then let’s go ahead and clean everything up and get ready for an early sleep.”

  I lie down in my sleeping bag and close my eyes, eager to get those precious couple hours of sleep before the second watch begins. My eyelids are already growing heavy after the strenuous day, but before I can drift off to sleep, Chloe rolls up next to me and wraps her arms around me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “I just want to be held for a few minutes.”

  “But–”

  “I know. You might wake me when it’s time for your watch. I’ll take responsibility for that. Right now, I just want to be held by you. It’ll help me fall asleep. It’ll help you fall asleep too, I bet.”

  Even with my eyes closed, I can tell that she’s got that lovable, adorable, affectionate grin on her face as she slips in next to me. And the kiss that follows, both gentle and yet passionate, is wonderful as well. And of course, Lady Luck always seems to smell so goddesses-damned gorgeous, even when we’re out here in the middle of the countryside. Even my own shit-laden stench isn’t enough to dissuade her from pulling me in right next to her and letting me bask in her presence.

  She’s got a smile on her face and is out cold within the span of a minute. I yawn, and as sleep overtakes me, all I can think about is how, just as I promised her before, I’d do anything for this woman.