Tilt: As one familiar with the high places, you have felt the disconcerting pull of the sky. You know the feeling of the world tilting on its axis, of the peaks rushing towards you even as you stand unmoving. Deliver that same confusion unto your enemies and leave them unbalanced as you become the focal point around which their world spins. Further levels increase the magnitude of this effect.

  “I imagine I won't have that much time to level it before I hit my 2nd tier, assuming all goes well” I remarked to Sadrianna idly as I once more reviewed my new skill.

  We'd established through experimentation that it did have a mild effect of unbalancing the person I used it against, but Sadrianna was significantly more powerful than me, what with the tier difference and a good score or more of levels over me, so the effect was limited. Add to that that it was a skill still in its infancy, I didn't yet quite understand how to control it, and she had her unorthodox movement skill, and the effect was marginal.

  “I don't think that's too much of a concern,” she said. “The system seems to account for the time that you have access to them, and how you’ve levelled them within that time. For obvious reasons, the late skills are often far lower levelled than the initial class skills you gain when first classing up, but it doesn’t seem to unbalance things when you break through a tier. At least, that’s what my parents have shared with me.”

  “You think they know more but kept it to themselves?” I asked her in surprise. From what I’d learned, her parents were keen for her to grab power for herself however she could. Withholding information about the levelling process seemed to run counter to that goal.

  She cast a measuring look my way, as if wondering if I had secrets she could convince me to divulge…and perhaps also wondering if she wanted to know them even if she could.

  “Has Jorge told you how it all works then?” she asked, and I shook my head ruefully.

  “Fair point” I conceded.

  She snorted before continuing on with her original point. “On reaching 2nd tier the system seems to take account of the disparity in time that you've had to level them. At least that's what I've found. You should have no issue so long as you don’t neglect it.”

  That was a relief to hear, as I'd been concerned that to get the most out of this class I would have to spend a long time stuck at the peak of first tier, desperately trying to level up my late skills. Tilt did seem to have very obvious combat potential, at least, so the process wouldn't be too onerous. Still, I was keen to break through now that I was close.

  I was on the cusp of the 2nd tier, a few more levels and a feat and I'd be there. Power enough to find myself no longer helpless in most of the world. Sure, I'd not be near the strongest, but people like Francis D’Sware wouldn't be so far out of my reach by then. The helplessness and humiliation of my imprisonment still chafed, much as I was loath to admit it.

  It took all of the morning and most of the afternoon to hike back down to the lake where the rest of my companions were staying. We'd spent the night camped up in the mountains as Sadrianna had wanted to give me the opportunity to rest after the excitement, which I appreciated. More likely, she simply didn’t want to deal with half a day of me as a hiking companion when I was exhausted. I tended to ramble when I got tired, after all.

  I'd tried my best to use my new skill on any low-level critters we came across. I’d startled the hells out of a rabbit and two crows, but it was hard to draw too many conclusions from that alone. As Sadrianna was to me, so was I to the low-level animals that made the wild meadows of the Titan’s Crown their home.

  I would have to wait and see how effective it was in sparring. Vera and George were both too powerful, but Nathlan would be an interesting test of Tilt’s effectiveness.

  My new skill wasn't the only new thing I had to test though. The amber root still hung heavy at my hip. I'd spent most of the day playing around with it, feeding it mana and watching as it enlarged and shrank again. Its maximum reach seemed to be a little over six feet, about the same as my previous spear. Blessedly, it also seemed to be able to perform the same function as the mechanism that Sally had forged for me; I could keep it in its slightly shorter formation, looking like a regular short spear, and then with a quick application of mana, it could shunt forwards, growing in size in an instant to surprise my enemies with an extra foot of reach.

  Not only could it change size; it was also shockingly sturdy. I'd tried taking the hatchet to it to see if it could regenerate but I couldn't even cut through it, leaving no mark with the dull blade. In many ways it wasn't really a surprise, considering it had likely had generations of time to absorb the magic wafting off the juvenile Subakir that it protected. Even a young Child of the World Tree was ranked as one of the most significant presences in Tsanderos, as far as I understood. Simply just being in close proximity for a prolonged amount of time was sure to grant magical power to even the most mundane of items.

  The fact that this was a tree root, and intimately tied to the World Tree's offspring by theme and function only enhanced the effect. Just as intent seemed so crucial a force in this world, so too did theme. Like shadows like, and subjects tied together by similar themes found their spiritual significance strengthened beyond that of disparate items.

  All in all, it was a worthwhile trip, but it was tempting to feel as if I'd taken one step forward and two steps back. I'd lost a weapon and gained half of one. I'd lost a highly levelled skill, and gained a new, under-levelled one. But looking past the surface, I had traded a non-combat skill that didn't fit with the rest of my class for one that did, with enormous potential as well from what I could gather. Likewise, my weapon, mundane as it was, had been traded for a powerful material that could make up part of a much more powerful weapon.

  I had in fact just traded actual power for a massive boost in potential.

  “So…you’re a pretty big deal around here, aren’t you?” I asked as we thumped down a steep path worn into the side of a hill by millennia of her people’s journeying.

  The barbarian woman made a show of looking around at the empty meadow we trudged through before returning to look back at me with a raised eyebrow. I laughed.

  “You know what I mean. Heard you won The Blending last year…” I left the sentence trailing, hoping she would jump in to fill it with detail.

  “Year before, actually. What are you fishing for, Lamb?” she asked instead, and I looked over at her in surprise.

  She looked younger then. Often when people look tired it brings out their age, but the weary set of her shoulders and the expression on her face looked so out place with the physical reality of her that it only served to highlight her youth.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  It shouldn’t have been a shock, but I’d been thinking of her as mature – she didn’t look a year past her mid-twenties, as was often the way with those in higher tiers, but something in the way she carried herself had made me think of her as older. Maybe it was her self-assurance, or simply the way everyone else reacted to her, but I was struck by surprise to recognise the youth in her features at that moment.

  No crow’s feet around her eyes, no blemishes on her tanned skin. Strange to see such responsibility on the shoulders of one so young. I cocked my head to the side, considering her question before I answered.

  “Partly I’m just curious,” I said, “but I do have an ulterior motive as well.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me, and I was surprised by the way her face closed off before I realised where she thought I was probably going.

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” I hurriedly clarified, waving away the thought as if to dismiss it from her head. “My friends and I are heading over the Dragon-Spines soon. Wait, you’ve heard all of this already, right?”

  She simply nodded; her guard not yet completely lowered.

  “I - we - want as many capable warriors to join us as we can get. There’ll be plenty of fighting to go around, and the more help we get, the higher our chances of not dying become. You’re not just a capable warrior, but you command respect, right? You could help inspire others to join our cause.”

  I spoke quicker as I got into the swing of things, excited at the idea and dearly hoping she would sense that.

  Instead, she sighed.

  “Lamb, stop. Just stop. I’ll not inspire my people to join your war. Fighting myself is one thing, but bringing along others?” She shook her head, looking out towards the hazy outlines of the various lakes and the dots of the clan camps that surrounded them.

  “I don’t want any of my clan to come on this journey with you. I know the smell of sacrifice when I come across it. I might not be an old soul, but I’ve heard stories and seen enough of our ancient warriors head out on ‘one last hunt before hanging it all up’.”

  She removed her hair tie and shook her out her long dark hair, and I was reminded strangely of a horse tossing its mane in frustration. “They never come back, Lamb. Not one of them. And everyone knows it! They all sit around and pretend that we’re not about to lose an invaluable resource, but I’ve not once seen anyone come back from one last hunt.”

  I nodded in silence, unwilling to interrupt. This was interesting information if nothing else, but more than that, it seemed to be something she needed to get off her chest. I could read the anguish on her face plain as day, despite the twilight doing its best to obscure her features as a cloud passed over the moon.

  “I’ve been groomed since I was a bairn to put the clan first. I never wanted to lead, made that clear enough to my da as a little girl, and once that was understood, I was allowed to be a warrior. But I had to be the best warrior. Can’t have Sadrianna Aryniasdottir being just one amongst many.”

  The words were bitter, but she sounded almost wistful. It was as if she gazed out not at the many clans gathered in the basin below us, but at that little girl. The vision of mediocrity that she held up in her mind’s eye.

  “I’m surprised your parents put that pressure on you,” I remarked carefully. “They don’t seem the type.”

  “It wasn’t my parents. It was everyone else. None of us knew about social position and hierarchy and gods-damned advantage when we were young. But children learn quickly, and the weight of expectation fell on me at an early age. I’ve not managed to shrug it off since, and it’s easier to just wear around now. At least it’s made me strong.”

  She turned to me then, dark eyes catching the pale moonlight and reflecting softly in the night.

  “Poetic” I said.

  She snorted. “Yeah, well it’s a poetic sort of night. What was I saying before all of this?” she gestured up at the full moon, and then waved about as if to encompass our last few moments of conversation.

  “Losing all your ‘old monsters’ to ill-fated hunts” I answered.

  “Ah.” She took a moment to collect her thoughts once more. “They weren’t Ill-fated though. I’d say they served their purpose well, those hunts. I’ve seen too many of my clan leave with no intention of returning. They’re old warriors, Lamb. You know what they say about old warriors?”

  “Aye,” I nodded, feeling a little like Jorge in that moment, “The brave and the stupid die young. Only the smart and skilled remain.”

  She nodded in turn. “Just so. If they’ve made it to that age in the clans as a warrior, then they know how to assess a threat. Why that skill suddenly fails them once their children are fully grown, nobody has yet been able to explain to me.”

  I sighed, “It’s hard to reshape an identity. You live your whole life as one thing? Hard to start again as something else. It’s not just going from a warrior to a partner. It’s going from a great warrior to a shitty partner that’s the problem, right?”

  She looked surprised by my understanding, and I laughed softly. “Yeah, I know something about starting from scratch.”

  She was silent for a while before she spoke again, more softly this time, with none of the accusation and frustration of before. “You know this will likely end in all of your deaths, yes? I told you I’ve seen it before, and this has the same smell about it. Half a dozen men can’t defeat a country, Lamb.”

  “Aye, perhaps. But I’ll give Jorge more credit than that – he’ll think up some way out of it. Besides, you’ve never seen Vera angry, have you?” I smirked and caught a hint of ghost white teeth from her before she turned away.

  “I’ll join you,” she said.

  I paused a moment, and then, unable to help myself, I asked, “Why?”

  “I’m tired of seeing everyone else abandon their duty. They serve the clan their whole lives, and then turn around and throw it all away at the end. If I’m to die on some stupid quest, better it be now, before I’ve spent decades becoming an essential part of it.”

  I paused to consider the words, but they rang hollow. I should have just accepted her request, reassured her that it was the right decision and hoped to all the gods she didn’t change her mind before we crossed the Dragon-Spines. But I couldn’t.

  “That’s not it,” I said, and she flinched as if struck. “That’s not a good enough reason. You’re already well on the way to becoming an essential part of the clan. Your parents are highly placed, and you’ve got the talent and drive to take over from them one day. You could set up systems to prevent the older fighters from leaving. Force earlier rotation so they spend more time with family and build those bonds from a younger age…”

  Again, I paused, watching her from the corner of my eye as we trudged onwards towards those distant lakes. “Why leave now?”

  She didn’t answer and turned away. I thought she might be closing up again, although I couldn’t see her expression to be sure, so I continued, desperate to get my point across, for some unknown reason.

  “Why haven’t you left yet? You don’t strike me as the most patient person, no offence. And from what you’ve said, it sounds as if you didn’t have strong bonds with the other kids. What was keeping you here?”

  “I couldn’t just leave. I had people counting on me. I had responsibilities!” she almost growled, frustration lacing her voice.

  “…and you don’t now?” I asked.

  Silence was my answer, and I realised the truth of things then.

  “Ah, that’s why. It’s the responsibility you’re running from now, isn’t it?” I said it softly. Not an accusation, simply understanding. I stopped walking, forcing her to do the same and turn to face me once more.

  “Is this what’s best for the clan? What’s best for you?” I asked, as earnest as I could be. “I won’t lie, we need all the help we can get. But I’m not looking to recruit those who have a good life, Sadrianna. I’m more optimistic about our chances than you are, but if you’ve got a good reason to stay, then take it.”

  We stared at one another then for what felt like an eternity. I could see the battle raging within her, and I was once again struck by how young she was. Her athletic frame struggled with a burden that couldn’t be shouldered physically. Such weight to put on a young person.

  She was worried for the very future of her clan, seeing trends that would play out in the social fabric over decades to come, and she felt powerless to stop it. I wondered for a moment if she was looking for an escape from that pressure, or simply trying to gather more data. To understand why such venerable fighters would leave behind everything they had fought for.

  In the end, it wasn’t my place to understand her reasons. So long as she had considered them with due care, I would trust her to make her own choices, stranger that she was. Perhaps in time we’d be close enough for my advice to mean something, but not yet.

  She nodded. She had made her choice.

  “I will join you, and when I return, I shall show my clan’s warriors how to find meaning in tasks other than violence.”

  I nodded. “Lashvagaul” I said, recalling my discussion with Jorge many moons ago.

  She smiled then, and her stern face softened once more. “Yes. I shall remind them of that ancient rite – that there is joy as well as sadness to be had in the transition.”