“Dude. This maze is crazy!” Levi held the paper up to the light, turning it this way and that, looking at it from different angles. “You made this?”

  Otter nodded, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I needed to something to do the other night.”

  They sat together in the Academy’s Rec Hall, a large, airy space filled with mismatched chairs and tables. The walls were adorned with banners representing different classes and guilds. Students drifted in and out. Some played card games, others enjoyed a steaming cup of keffir while hanging out with friends.

  Levi traced his finger along the intricate twists and turns of the maze, eyebrows raised in admiration. “You’ve got way too much time on your hands. This thing’s a work of art.” He glanced up with a mischievous smile. “How long did it take you?”

  Otter shrugged, brushing a hand through his hair. “A couple hours, maybe. I don’t know.” He didn’t mention how the maze had been a distraction from his swirling thoughts about the compass, his father, and the strange glitches on his wrisplay.

  “A couple hours?” Levi shook his head. “I’d need weeks to make something like this.” He held it up again, marveling at the complexity. The paths wove through towers and tunnels, past what looked like tiny monsters and traps drawn in exquisite detail.

  Levi tilted his head. “Is this… a hidden message?”

  Otter’s grin widened. “You noticed!”

  Levi squinted at the page, following the twists and turns more closely. “Hold on… oh! There it is!” He pointed to a section of the maze where the paths spelled out a word if you looked closely enough: LUCK.

  “Luck, huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Otter leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s what you’ll need to solve that thing.”

  Levi laughed. “Is that so? Well, when I finish it this afternoon, I’ll hang it up in my dorm. Right next to my map of the Redthorne Wilds.” He laughed again, then turned serious. “You’ve got a real talent, you know that?”

  They got up, ready to head to their next session.

  Otter shrugged again, though warmth bloomed in his chest. “It’s just something I’ve always done. Maps, mazes. I like figuring out paths, finding ways through things.”

  “I bet you’d make a great Scout.”

  Otter felt his cheeks warm. They hadn’t talked about his Class, or lack thereof, yet. “Maybe.”

  “Oh man, I’m sorry. I didn't mean…I mean, I’d heard…you know what? Nevermind. Thanks for this.” He tapped the map against his palm. “It’s really awesome.”

  Otter felt like taking a risk. “I’m actually thinking a Dungeoneer Class would be my preference.”

  Levi nodded. “That might be a good fit, too. Scouts are good at wilderness stuff, but us Dungeoneers have a knack for navigating…well…dungeons. Labyrinths. That sort of thing. We have to be, to find all the loot.”

  Otter chuckled. “I never really thought about that.”

  As they walked, Otter felt a little lighter. His circle of friends was growing.

  ***

  The end of the week was payday. Most of the first-year students flocked to the Commissary on Friday after course sessions were finished to see how many credits they’d earned.

  Otter beat the rush because he only had Understanding the System that day. The attendant told him he had 20 credits—15 from his Library Duties and an extra 10 from the bonus he’d earned in Navigation and Survival minus 5 for what he owed for the notebooks.

  He perused the racks, looking for anything that he might want to purchase. There was a section for basic adventuring gear that contained items like boots, belts, and backpacks. If he did get the Dungeoneer class, he would certainly need those supplies. He almost bought a new backpack and some rope right then, but reconsidered. First-year students were held on a pretty tight leash and he highly doubted he’d be doing any dungeon delving soon. Still, it was nice to know the stuff was there.

  He browsed a shelf of books, but figured the Library would have anything he wanted and borrowing them was a better fit for his budget.

  As he neared the back of the store, a delicious smell hit him and he went to investigate. There was a counter with all sorts of baked goods—sweet rolls, meat pies, cookies, and even chocolate. Otter’s mouth watered. While the mess hall provided plenty of tasty meals, desserts were not included. He and his mother rarely had enough money to splurge on such treats, and he lingered for a while.

  Eventually, though, he moved on. His birthday was coming up soon, and he decided he’d wait to treat himself until then.

  He found a locked glass case harboring an assortment of magical trinkets and paused to read the description of each one.

  Whisper stone- A smooth stone that records and plays back a short message. 5 credits

  Warming Charm- A tiny rune-inscribed pebble that keeps your hands warm. 4 credits

  Illusory Pet Token- Summons a small, harmless illusory creature for 1 hour. 8 credits

  Glowstick- Emits a soft light for several hours before recharging. 2 credits

  Lucky Charm Pendant- Said to subtly influence Luck in minor ways. 7 credits

  Enchanted Marbles (x3) Roll them and they create harmless light bursts. 3 credits

  Spell Candle (Single Use)- Burns with a colored flame and can reveal invisible writing. 5 credits

  Self-Shuffling Deck. A deck of cards that shuffles itself. 6 credits

  Chameleon Ribbon- A ribbon that changes color based on the wearer’s mood. 5 credits

  The Lucky Charm pendant jumped out at him. How would that work together with his already high luck stat? Maybe he should get that. Although, he might not ever know if it worked. Plus, his Luck’s Whisper already seemed to function in a similar way.

  The glow stick was also tempting. He imagined those could come in handy when exploring the dark recesses of some dungeon. The Spell Candle was the most intriguing. With the work he’d be doing in the Library, trying to uncover secrets about Emrys Gale, the cracked compass, and his father’s fate, revealing invisible writing might come in handy. Of course, the candle only worked once. He’d have to be judicious with its use.

  The last section he looked through was labeled Hobbies and Interests. It contained a variety of board games, card decks, dice, puzzles, and art supplies.

  When he’d made a complete circuit of the Commissary, he considered his options. Part of him wanted to spend everything he’d earned, but growing up poor had instilled a thriftiness deep within him that he couldn’t shake. Finally, he settled on buying the Spell Candle and a Fizzy Elixir—a sparkling fruit flavored drink in a resealable bottle. He figured he could use the bottle for something else. The total came to 7 credits, leaving him with 13. He’d save those for something important later.

  As he was leaving the Commissary, he spotted Lyle and Torrin standing shoulder to shoulder by one of the shelves. They were clearly watching him, though they turned their attention to a piece of adventuring gear they were holding as soon as they realized he’d seen them. Otter guessed they didn’t have a single point of Stealth between them.

  They followed him as far as the door, then called after him. “Hey sewer rat. They gave you Bran’s spot. He’s the one should be here, not you.”

  Otter pretended like he hadn’t heard them and kept walking. But his stomach was doing somersaults. He hadn’t known Lyle and Torrin back in Brighthaven. And he assumed they didn’t know him. It was a big city after all. Not as big as Aurelia, but big enough that someone living in The Docks might never meet someone from Oldkeep.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Yet, it seemed he’d been wrong. The fact that the pair also knew Bran just made it worse. He got the feeling he was in for a long semester with those two.

  ***

  Piper dropped a stack of books on the counter with a loud bang, the noise reverberating through the otherwise quiet Library. Several nearby students glanced up from their workstations, eyebrows raised in annoyance. Piper didn’t seem to care.

  Otter looked up from his own stack he was preparing to reshelve, startled by both the sound and her intensity. “What’s this?”

  Piper adjusted her glasses and crossed her arms, giving him a look that suggested she had zero patience for his cluelessness. “This is everything I’ve found about Emrys Gale.” She tapped the top of the stack for emphasis. “As you can see, there’s quite a bit. But not as much as I’d hoped. We need to divvy these up.”

  Otter blinked at the precarious tower of books. Some had titles in languages he couldn’t even begin to decipher.

  “Um… maybe I can read one,” Otter said hesitantly. “But I’ve already got a lot of reading to do for my courses.”

  Piper narrowed her eyes at him, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I thought you wanted to investigate this.”

  “I do! I do…” Otter stammered, holding up his hands defensively. “I just—there’s a lot on my plate right now.”

  Piper’s glare didn’t soften. If anything, it sharpened. “Oh, I see,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “So you’re fine chasing down spooky whispers and glowing compasses in the middle of the night, but when it comes to the actual research part, suddenly you’re too busy?”

  Otter winced. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Piper huffed, pulling a thick, leather-bound book from the top of the stack and shoving it toward him. “Fine. You read this one.” Her voice was clipped, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. “I’ll read through the rest. In all of my spare time.”

  Otter took the book, feeling the weight of both the tome and her judgment. “Thanks, Piper. You’re a real saint.”

  “I know,” she said, flipping open another book with a dramatic flourish. “It’s exhausting.”

  Otter chuckled, but Piper wasn’t done.

  “I’m serious, Otter,” she said, softening a little as she glanced at him over the top of her book. “If we’re going to figure out what’s going on with that compass—and why your wrisplay keeps glitching—we need to take this seriously. Emrys Gale wasn’t just some adventurer. He was one of the Academy’s founders. And a bit of a mystery himself.”

  Otter leaned on the counter, curiosity sparking again despite his lingering self-doubt. “What kind of mystery?”

  Piper’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “No one knows where he came from. His origins are completely undocumented. And there are rumors—wild ones—that he didn’t follow the System’s usual pathways. That he had… alternative methods.”

  Otter frowned. “Alternative methods?”

  “Yeah. Like maybe he didn’t have a Class. Or he found a way to bypass the System entirely.”

  Otter’s heart skipped a beat. “You think that’s why the compass is acting weird?”

  “Maybe.” Piper shrugged. “Or maybe it’s just a cool old artifact with a bunch of creepy stories attached to it. Either way, we need to dig deeper.”

  Otter glanced at the book in his hands. The title was faded, but he could make out the words Gale’s Journeys: Forgotten Paths of Aurelia.

  Piper grinned, seeing the shift in his expression. “See? Now you’re interested.”

  Otter nodded slowly. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

  “Good.” Piper adjusted her glasses again, the fire in her eyes returning. “Because I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

  Otter flipped open the book and began skimming the first few pages. “So… what’s our plan?”

  “Our plan,” Piper said, leaning in, “is to figure out what Emrys Gale discovered—and if it’s connected to you.”

  Otter glanced at her, startled. “To me?”

  Piper nodded. “Those glitches. The compass reacting when you were near it. I don’t think its a coincidence, Otter.”

  He has a feeling she was right. Especially if that rumor about Emrys being Classless was true.

  “All right,” he said quietly. “But it’s going to take time. I have to stay on top of my coursework. If I flunk out, we won’t learn anything.”

  Piper sighed. “Fair enough.”

  And with that, they turned back to their Library duties.

  ***

  The morning sun hung low over the Ironstride Keep Training Grounds, casting long shadows across the dirt yard. Otter shifted nervously as he adjusted his practice sword, the wooden blade feeling awkward in his hands. They’d progressed quickly from stance and balance on the first day through some simple unarmed combat techniques, which Otter had kind of picked up on, though he’d need a lot more practice. But all too soon, they moved on to using practice weapons.

  Master Horvan paced before them, his heavy boots kicking up small clouds of dust. His mechanical left hand clicked softly with each step, the gears within whirring faintly. He stopped suddenly, turning to face the students with a stern gaze.

  "Today, we're working on defense techniques," Horvan barked. "Blocking, parrying, countering. This isn’t about brute strength. It’s about balance, awareness, and control. I hope you see the theme."

  Otter swallowed. He had his stance and balance down—or at least he thought he did. If today’s lesson built on that foundation, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  “Form up ranks!” Horvan bellowed.

  Immediately, everyone fell into neat rows, facing the Master Warrior.

  “Swords out!”

  Otter held his sword out in front of him. It felt heavy in his hand and he struggled to keep it in the correct position.

  “Many people mistakenly believe that fighting with a sword is flashy, showy, with big, sweeping motions. Those people end up dead.” An assistant squared off against Horvan, and lunged at him in slow motion. Horvan, holding his sword in position 1, simply shifted his wrist to the right by about two inches and the assistant’s wooden blade slid harmlessly past him. “Did everyone see that?” He looked around at the student, then demonstrated one more time. “Your turn. Position 1! Parry!”

  Again and again they went through the motion. The instructors circulated, making adjustments, giving advice.

  “Keep your sword tip up, Bennett,” one of them said.

  He tried. He tried really hard, but with every repetition, his arm got weaker. It burned. And his sword tip got lower.

  Finally, Horvan called a break, directing them to stretch and rest.

  Then...

  "Pair up! And, Bennett—" his sharp gaze landed on Otter, "with Thorne."

  Otter’s stomach twisted.

  Jasper? Seriously? The Fighter seemed to be a prodigy. He mastered every lesson with ease. No one wanted to partner with him after only two weeks. He made everybody look bad.

  What was Horvan thinking? They were supposed to be sparring with someone at their own level, not someone who could potentially break his bones with one well-aimed strike.

  Otter looked around and saw Lyle and Torrin whispering with a small group of students, occasionally throwing glances his way. What were they up to?

  Then Jasper, already grinning, strode over with his usual swagger. The confidence radiating off him made Otter want to gag.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Otter asked, keeping his tone neutral. “Wouldn’t want you to get embarrassed in front of everyone.”

  Jasper’s grin widened. “Embarrassed? By you?” He leaned in, his voice low and mocking. “Don’t worry, Bennett. I’ll go easy on you.” But that crew back there,” he nodded toward the knot of students with Lyle and Torrin at their center, “is betting on how long you’ll last.”

  Otter forced himself to keep his expression blank, but his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

  Stay calm. Focus.

  “It’s a simple exercise,” Horvan said. “Lunge. Parry. Riposte. Begin!”

  Otter swallowed hard. His heart pounded in his chest as he raised his practice sword. The wooden blade felt heavy in his hand, but he adjusted his grip, planting his feet in the stance Horvan had drilled into him.

  Jasper twirled his sword lazily, clearly enjoying the moment. “Ladies first,” he said, smirking.

  Otter ignored him. He took a breath, focusing on balance. Awareness. Control. He stepped forward cautiously, sword raised.

  Jasper lunged.

  The attack came faster than Otter anticipated, and he barely managed to block the strike. The impact jarred his arm, sending a tremor up to his shoulder. His knees buckled slightly, but he kept his footing.

  “Too slow,” Jasper taunted. “You’ll never survive out there if that’s the best you’ve got.”

  Otter gritted his teeth. Now it was his turn. He lunged, sword tip driving for Jasper’s chest.

  Jasper flicked his wrist and Otter’s sword slipped past his shoulder. Jasper, it seemed, had already mastered this parry.

  Before Otter could fully recover, the Fighter riposted. Otter scrambled back, trying to parry as well, but again he was too slow. The blunted sword tip jammed into his shoulder and pain bloomed.

  You’re okay. It’s just a little pain.

  He returned to position 1.

  “Keep your sword tip up!” Jasper barked at him as he lunged. Otter focused on keeping his movements small and fast, and this time he parried successfully.

  They went back and forth a few more times, but Otter never could score a hit. His arms were on fire, his muscles felt like someone held a hot poker to them.

  “Sword. Tip. Up.” Jasper growled between clenched teeth and stuck again.

  Otter tried to parry, but as Jasper had warned, his sword tip was too low and instead of the blade slipping off to the side, it slipped over his own and slammed into his chest. He felt something crack, saw the sky suddenly appear in front of him, and heard someone yell, “Healer!”