“They call it ‘The First Blink.’ No one targeted ever gets to blink twice.”

  — Unknown Eschal Soldier

  ***

  I grabbed a random stick from beneath one of the trees on the Hunters’ property shortly after finding the thread. I’d also found a scrap of leather with hardly any trouble. This was the hunters’ lodge after all. While they weren’t tanners, they’d certainly had their fair share of hides strewn about the place.

  The moment I had the three required items, I felt a sort of click with my talent, letting me know I could create the thing Reid needed. I wondered idly if the results would be different if I used better materials, or if they even mattered at all. Still, it was nice to know I didn’t need him to be there to make what he needed. It just sort of sat with me, and as soon as I had the requirements, the option opened up.

  That was good. Great. If it was going to make a storm of ink or something equally showy every time I tried to craft something, then it was certainly good that I could make it behind closed doors.

  I didn’t see any reason to wait, so I just activated my talent and let it work.

  Fortunately, Reid’s bow didn’t create a quarter of the spectacle Mom’s book had. Instead, the stick began to morph, warping and changing until the wood flattened into a pristine lacquered finish. Then, the string flew from my fingers. To my surprise, it wasn’t the twine used to launch the arrow, as I’d suspected. Instead, the leather lifted into the air and wrapped around the center of the wood. The wood beneath warped into a shaped handgrip that would’ve looked more at home on a modern bow, while the string stitched itself through the leather, binding it into place with a perfect fit.

  The bow finished itself with little fanfare, unstrung. That made sense to me. Even if it were some sort of super bow, it would still be useless if the string snapped. I… supposed Reid would have to string it himself.

  Lacquered Yew Bow

  Effect 1: Accuracy-based talent effects and skills are multiplied by three when using this bow.

  The bow was amazing to look at. I had no idea if it would be more effective than any bow made by the Bowyer in Mitoras, but it certainly looked nice, and the ability it gave sounded pretty good. If an archer’s skill was at one hundred, then did that mean this bow would make it three hundred? Holy shit.

  I opened up my skills list and found a pleasant surprise.

  From Reid’s Archery skill, you have gained nine free points!

  And Reid had almost one hundred points in the hunter’s staple. Not bad at all! He probably would’ve been as good as Hadra was at weaving if he could hunt year-round.

  This left me with a dilemma. I was now sitting on twenty-seven free skill points that I could distribute however I wanted. I couldn’t craft my own need of course. I had to guess what I might need.

  I could put them all in my new combat skill. Twenty-seven points was no joke… but it would still be a far cry lower than anything hunters could do, let alone the soldiers. I decided it might be better to focus on avoiding confrontation for now, but to slowly grow some sort of combat-oriented skill, just in case.

  In the end, I decided to put fifteen points in endurance, bringing it from twenty-four to thirty-nine. Endurance would undoubtedly be useful if I ever needed to be physically competent in combat anyway. Ten points in running brought that skill up to fifty-three. A final two points in combat left my newest skill at a pidly three, but I was alright with that. My points would skyrocket over the next few days, as long as I had people I was closely bonded to that I hadn’t already crafted for.

  Mom also had a pyromancy spellbook that I wanted to get my hands on. That would surely be more useful than a generic skill like combat.

  I stepped back out of the lodge and found Reid had shucked off the heavy gloves he used for skinning the carcass and was now holding out his hand. It glowed a sort of strange silver-white. I’d always thought of hunters’ household magic as ‘neon salt.’ The meat wasn’t made salty by the process, but the color looked similar, and the effect was pretty much identical.

  Hunters learned to use their household magic to preserve meat in the same way that I’d used mine to start cook fires or heat water. He looked like he’d cleaned up in a frantic hurry while I was gone, dousing his arms in the small stream they used to clean off after their work.

  Household magic was always like that. A particular niche fulfilled. Different versions of it could be learned, but it took effort and time. Most people had one or maybe two types, and starting fires or heating were by far the most common. Dad could use his to speed along plant growth, or so he claimed. That was pretty hard to prove, but he could certainly make the color of his magic green.

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  “Are you still working? Jeez, talk about taking all day. I already finished your new bow,” I said, giving an exaggerated yawn as I approached.

  He blinked, looking up from his magic momentarily before his eyes widened. “W-wait, you just made that? Your talent is instantaneous?”

  “Elite talents are like that,” I said with a sort of smugness I pictured on Revorun or Enota. Snobby little pricks.

  “Huh,” he said.

  I blinked.

  “Huh? That’s all you’ve got to say?” I said as I approached him and handed him the masterful quality bow, feeling unnaturally irritated.

  “Well, of course not! Thank you! Obviously! And Congratulations as well!” He said, as if realizing he’d managed to offend me.

  I scowled.

  “So… what? Are you mad?” I asked, suddenly feeling genuinely worried. That was not the shocked expression I’d expected. Elite was nothing to scoff at.

  “No. No, I’m amazed for you Mera, really! I’m just… Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m shocked it wasn’t higher.”

  My eye twitched.

  “Sorry to disappoint! I guess I’ll just take my one-in-a-thousand bow and give it to someone who–! Gaaah!” I squawked as he grappled me in a hug.

  “I’m pretty sure I said ‘don’t take it the wrong way.’ You’re amazing, Mera. The whole town knows it. Thank you for this!”

  “You’re gross! Geddoffme!” I screamed with a laugh, pushing him away.

  He beamed down at me, brown hair glowing with the morning sun shining down on it. Maybe he wasn’t that gross.

  Mom needn’t have worried about me wanting to stay at my lab. A deep sense of unease filled me for the entire time we spent there gathering supplies. It was tainted now, both in my memory and in the large bloodstain that remained where the War Troll had met its grisly end. Forty minutes after we’d left the hunter’s lodge, we were already done loading everything I’d need onto the cart and heading back to town, both walking beside our family’s ox.

  Stoutgruff’s name described him perfectly. He was heavy and wide with brown fur and only one horn. I’d never been able to get Dad to tell me how he’d lost the other one. It didn’t seem to bother the creature now as he excitedly shuffled his snout between Reid and me, depending on which one was more willing to scratch behind his ears.

  He didn’t even seem to notice the cart. I’d only had so many clay pots, and the plow he usually carried was a much heavier load. We’d gathered everything I could find, but decided that the cart was still empty enough that a trip into town to gather peppers and oil would save some time.

  I checked my pockets for the fifth time to ensure the gold piece was still there. It was, but it felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. I wanted to be rid of it and loaded up with as many peppers and oils as I could get my hands on.

  Omoali Carpenter, the twins’ mother, waved at us on the way into town. I winced as I spotted her need bubble. A lot of hide and leather, hundreds of little bits of metal, and thread. I knew her pretty well, but not nearly as well as Reid, the twins, or my mom, of course. A leather jerkin? Light armor, to protect her from goblin blades, maybe?

  “Happy Nameday, Elmerina!” she exclaimed as she met my eyes. “What sort of talent did you get!?”

  Normally, I’d be happy to stay and chat with her, but we were in a bit of a hurry. I flashed her an apologetic grin. “Elite! I’d tell you more about it, but we’ve got to be going. Oh! While we’re here, though, would you happen to have any peppers or oils you’d be willing to sell?”

  “Peppers and oil–! Oh! The pepper stuff! You’ll be making more of it, I suspect?” she asked. “It’s been the talk of the town, or at least it would’ve been if not for your story last night. Lovely tale. Awful. But lovely.”

  “She’s right,” Reid piped in. “It was quite the story. I haven’t stopped thinking about it all night.”

  I beamed. “Thanks, I think. It’s supposed to be like that. Make you think, y’know?”

  “Gave me the chills,” Omoali said and gave a visible shiver to accompany the words. “Now, the peppers. We’ve got a few of them, but didn’t plant too many this year.”

  “I’ll take every one you can spare. Mom gave me a chunk of her savings so I could start buying what I need. I’m intending to buy up every pepper that I can get my hands on, down at the bar!”

  “For a fair price, I hope?” she asked. “Could always use a bit more coin for when the Trader brothers come.”

  “Mom would probably tan my hide if I tried to cheat you, Mrs. Carpenter,” I said.

  “Well, who am I to turn you down? I’ll go gather what I’ve got. You’ll be at the bar for a while?”

  I nodded.

  “Then I’ll see you tonight. Or I’ll send Ret down there, one or the other. Actually, how… scary is your story tonight, honey?”

  I grinned. “I think Nemmikel has the stage tonight. I was falling asleep walking, but I remember him insisting he had a story that could top mine before I went home last night.”

  “Oh that old buffoon could never tell a story like you, Mera,” she replied with a grin. “Still, it might be fun to watch him try.”

  “Don’t tell him that,” I said with a laugh. I wanted to ask her if she had a bunch of leather lying around anywhere, but even if she did, it would be difficult to gather the metal required to craft what she needed. Perhaps if I got to know her a little better, it would cost less?

  Stoutgruff was antsy and seemed to want to keep moving anyway, so we made our excuses and bid the woman goodbye before following the short road into town. We didn’t have a long way to go, and as we made the last curve in the road around the baker’s hut, I saw the bar.

  I winced.

  Standing outside of it, staring straight at me, was Akkiwa Rancher. And she looked pissed.

  A/N: Hiyas all! As I said, I'm going to be attempting the MWF schedule. It will continue until I decide it's feasible to keep it, or I start getting overwhelmed!

  Hope you all have enjoyed the story so far, and thank you so much for your support! Special shoutout to everyone who has joined my patreon! You guys are awesome! For anyone who isn't a patron, but would like to read more of the story, please check it out! Twelve advanced chapters available.

  MB