“My sword?” Yig asked.

  Pervoick, suddenly intrigued, carefully unwrapped the protective bandages from Icarus to get a better look.

  The Chief studied the weapon, eyeing it up and down with interest. “The crest on the hilt—I’d like to verify its legitimacy.”

  Yig glanced at the sword, then leaned forward to take it from Pervoick, who pulled it away.

  “No, not yet. Chief, as I told this boy, it requires cleaning.”

  “Where’s the stain?”

  “…On the tip of the blade.”

  “Then I’ll be fine. Come on, hand it over.”

  With a reluctant huff, Pervoick passed the weapon to his superior, an action Yig observed closely. The Chief leaned forward to accept the sword and inspect the falcon crest, smiling when his suspicions were confirmed.

  “It seems I wasn’t mistaken. This is indeed a Second-Generation Falcotain sword. Do you know its name?”

  “What’s a Falcotain sword?”

  The Chief’s smile widened. “You really have no idea?”

  Yig felt a sudden shot of embarrassment. “Should I?” he asked cautiously.

  The Chief chuckled. “There’s no shame in not knowing—so long as you can wield it well.”

  Pervoick tilted his head, hesitant.

  “I’m sure he’s not that bad, Pervoick,” the Chief added. “Don’t be so grumpy.”

  “Do you think…” Yig began, afraid his ignorance might become more obvious if he misspoke, “Do you think you could explain what you mean? Just to make sure I’ve got all the details right.”

  The Chief looked delighted to share his tale.

  Pervoick took a seat.

  “So… years and years ago,” the Chief began, “there was a master swordsman who created a collection of blades, each bearing the Falcon Crest. They were among the strongest weapons ever forged.”

  “And I have one?”

  “No. Yours is not a First-Generation Falcotain sword. You carry a Second-Generation—crafted by Falcotain’s child, who inherited his techniques. Though less refined, a Second-Generation still holds many powerful qualities. Its worth should not be underestimated.”

  Yig leaned over the Chief’s desk for a better view of the crest. “Okay. That’s really interesting. I knew it was a nice weapon, but not that special.”

  “Indeed. It’s worth wielding with pride.”

  “What do the other swords look like?”

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  With the eagerness of a child, the Chief pointed to the wall behind him, where three blades were displayed—and one space was left empty. “I used to have a Second-Generation too. My father gave it to me. It was beautiful—still had the original red scabbard. Oh, I wish I could show you.”

  Pervoick nodded with a smile. “It was rather impressive.”

  “What happened to it?”

  The Chief sighed. “I gave it to my son when he left. It was his birthright, and I’d rather he have it than leave it propped up on a wall. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it. I wish the fool had forgotten that instead of his jacket.”

  Yig was genuinely fascinated, wondering how many of these beautiful blades he might come across in the future. But this was, admittedly, a massive tangent on the Chief’s part.

  “Sir, I appreciate your enthusiasm for my weapon. But if you don’t mind—”

  “Yes, yes, yes. You’re here on other business. You, sir, I’m told, need directions—and you’re not the first. Years ago, we had a man from Chestnut wander in with the same problem. And I’ll tell you what I told him: we’ll show you the way, if you do us a small favor.”

  “No!” Pervoick cut in quickly. “If you’re thinking what I think you are, then I refuse.”

  “Refrain, Pervoick!” the Chief barked. “What happened to that ‘respect for the Chief’ you were talking about a moment ago?”

  “You gave your word! Just me and the other rookies—that was the deal!”

  Yig raised a hand awkwardly. “What did you want me to do?”

  “Yes, you’re right. My apologies, boy. I should explain. We’ve been putting together a hunting team to deal with a bear nest. I was hoping you might join—”

  “No way, old man! Not happening!” Pervoick interrupted again.

  “A nest? The bears have a nest?”

  “And a queen,” the Chief continued. “That’s the one we’re targeting.”

  “I refuse,” Yig said bluntly.

  Pervoick rolled his eyes, shooting a glare at the Chief. “Look at that. Broke your word for nothing, old man.”

  The Chief stayed calm, matching Yig’s confident stare. “Fair enough. I suppose it was too much to ask.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Yig replied. “If you’d been nicer about it, I would’ve said yes.”

  “You think I’m unkind?”

  “Yes. You judged me based on my sword, not my skill. Anyone could’ve picked up that sword and run around with it—doesn’t mean they can wield it.”

  “You would’ve preferred I asked based on your skill in battle?”

  “Yes. That—and my character.”

  The Chief chuckled. “You’re wrong. But you still have a point.”

  Yig held his ground. Few people in Chestnut ever spoke to him like this.

  “You’re wrong because my request had nothing to do with the blade. But you have a point—because I may have misjudged you.”

  “…How?”

  “Boy, have you heard of aura? What it means from person to person?”

  “No.”

  The Chief took his time before speaking again. “You will accompany Pervoick and his crew of young Stearna on their raid in a few days. I know I originally asked this as a favor to us, but now I ask it as a favor to you.”

  Pervoick scowled. “Sir, you are aware that simply making your sentences longer doesn’t make them any more profound.”

  “What about my directions?” Yig asked.

  “After you’ve defeated the bears,” the Chief said, “we’ll show you the way to Moonset—also as a favor.”

  Yig’s face lit up. “That’s two favors!”

  Pervoick glanced between the two of them, unsure which one confused him more.

  “Sounds good, thanks!” Yig said, shaking the Chief’s hand. “By the way, can I ask why the bears leak all that purple stuff?”

  The Chief sighed heavily. “Well, we don’t know. We assume it to be the influence of Surath, but we’re not sure how. We used to encounter normal bears now and then. But within the past year, a single bear will find its way to the village—rabid, leaking the same purple acid-type substance you found on your sword—and single-handedly attempt to tear the place down. In recent months, the attacks have grown more frequent, and it’s wearing us down. We could handle the bears that came here years ago without trouble. But now, these toxin-leaking bears burn our flesh and tools with frightening longevity. The struggle has become much greater. We’ve lost many to the poison after even brief skin contact. That’s why we want to wipe them out completely—all at once.”

  “Could you give me a place to sleep while I stay here?” Yig asked.

  “Absolutely. We have a guest house on the edge of Sharirun where you may stay.”

  “Sharirun? That’s the name of your village?”

  “Correct. Oh, and Pervoick—”

  “Yes,” Pervoick said, “I’ll show him around. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the other students.”