From the magic shop’s window near the western edge of town, I could only ever see a sliver of Quinn’s Peak. Accompanying Janine throughout the day gave me the opportunity to see its true size and beauty. The tightly-packed storefronts and inns and restaurants along the winding main road that connected the east and west entrances served to entice tourists and travelers crossing the Berin mountains with their bright signs and inviting window dispys; shops and stores gradually gave way to cozy lodges and cabins the further we departed from the main thoroughfare. A crumbling stone wall surrounded much of Quinn’s Peak, built during a time when strange creatures threatened the settlements along the mountain pass. Only three vilges remained along the pass, but concerns about intruders faded roughly a decade ago, so the town never bothered to reinforce the aging wall.

  Janine walked down the stone road, her boots crunching in the deep snow. Evelyn zig-zagged, plowing the snow to the side as her feet couldn’t lift above the foot-high powder. She’d found a stick that looked roughly bow-shaped with some heavy imagination, mimicking an archer striking invisible enemies from afar.

  “Janine! We’re surrounded by the evil wizards!” Evelyn climbed up onto a bench, looking at confused passers-by as she imagined them to be in league with the enemy. She pointed towards a group stumbling out of the Alehorse, the busiest tavern in Quinn’s Peak. “They got a potion that makes peoples’ bones turn into jelly! I’ll stop them. They can’t hide from the Crimson—”

  One slip ter, Evelyn flopped off the bench into a cushion of snow. She y there until Janine lifted her up again. “How about we try some stealth on our way to the library instead?”

  “Yeah, stealth!” Undeterred by her facepnt, Evelyn ran ahead of her cousin again. “We’re gonna do stealth, you weirdo wizards!”

  Janine waved to the few townsfolk who were out and about. Quinn’s Peak was just small enough for most of the residents to know one another, and most were familiar with the daughters of the magic shop’s owners. “Hi Miss Eddington,” Janine said as they passed by Meridia, one of the newer residents in town who just opened up her own clothing store.

  “Oh, hello dears,” Meridia said with a quick smile before she gred at the snow and ice beyond her porch, a package under one arm. She tested an icy step before pulling herself back up along the handrail to the safety of her porch. “I don’t quite have my snow legs yet,” she said with a sigh.

  Noticing Meridia’s predicament, Janine stepped along the walkway up to the porch, steady in her footing from a lifetime in the snowy conditions. “We’re going to the library, but we could stop by the post office to drop that off for you.” Every time we had gone out, Janine ran into neighbors in need and offered her assistance—from hanging birdhouses, to tracking down escaped chickens, to mending fences that are meant to keep the chickens from escaping, she seemed to find at least one person who could use a little help, and always volunteered to lend a hand.

  “Oh, would you?” Meridia held the package out to Janine, relieved that she no longer needed to make the trek. “That’d be so helpful, thank you.”

  Evelyn’s eyes widened. “A new quest!” She scurried up the walkway next to her cousin. “We’ll deliver it for... ten gold!”

  Janine rolled her eyes and nudged her little cousin out of the way, taking the package from the porch-bound woman. “It’s no problem, and definitely no delivery fee,” Janine said. “The Crimson Archer is forgetting that heroes aren’t in it for the money. Didn’t you return all that gold the bandits stole in Piscary Bay, Crimson?”

  “I guess so...”

  The girls trudged through the snow, making the quick detour to the post office before arriving at the library. I’d been looking forward to my introduction to the Crimson Archer books all day, more for the pendant the hero wore than the hero himself—I hoped that even in a fictional story, I could divine a blueprint for what a relic such as myself might do. I could hardly wait!

  The librarian handed Evelyn a copy of The Crimson Archer: Curse of the King, and the girls began their trek back home, prize in hand. I should have known that the library was only the halfway point...

  The sun began to set as we ventured back to the magic shop. Usually this was the time of day where everyone was settling in for the night, but more and more of the town exited their cottages, heading toward the center of town. When the girls reentered the warmth of the magic shop, we were surprised to see Nadia and Tobias donning their winter jackets to depart as well.

  “Sorry girls,” Tobias said, wrapping a scarf around his neck. “We have to attend a town hall tonight, so it’ll be a te dinner when we’re back.”

  Evelyn plopped down at the front window with her book, uninterested in anything else in the world at that moment, but Janine grew curious. “A town hall? What for?”

  “Oh, who knows,” Nadia said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. “Last time it was because Charlie thought he saw a bloodwolf in the woods while he was hunting, but it was just the Calgans’ dog after it knocked over some paint.”

  “The mayor wants us there, though,” Tobias said. “Said he needs an expert magic opinion for whatever it is. Anyway, stay inside, we’ll be back ter.”

  The two shopkeepers departed, leaving Janine and Evelyn alone with their new book. The girls sat together near the front window to watch the older Denholms trudge down the street before diving into the story, the pages illuminated in red and green by their neckces.

  What started out as curiosity within me morphed into obsession—nearly as rge as Evelyn’s—with each passing page. The Crimson Archer was the apex of justice, and he never missed his mark. Adored by the masses and feared by the vilins, I found myself tasting the heroic life through these tales and wanting more—more of the stories, of course, but also the opportunity to be a part of something as awe-inspiring as the Crimson Archer’s journey.

  The story didn’t speak much about his relic, other than one detail: the relic chose the archer to be their champion. Anyone could wear the pendant, but the pendant only granted the powers to the one they felt was worthy of their incredible power, molding the hero of the story from a kind-hearted man with a frail body into a powerful and agile warrior.

  Was it so simple? I just had pick my own champion, like a gatekeeper to the magic? Well, that’s easy, I’d choose Janine. ...I felt no difference in my dormant magic, so that didn’t work. Either I didn’t yet believe she truly earned ‘champion’ status—to be fair, being a champion sounded dangerous and maybe I’d just put her in harms way with overconfidence in whatever it is that I could provide—or the magic wasn’t so simply swayed.

  I lost myself in the story for a while, but I snapped back to reality after feeling something strange nearby—like a new magic, but one that didn’t originate from me. Evelyn tapped her cousin’s shoulder, pointing out the window. “Janine, what’s that?”