Lieutenant Valka’s mustache was so long it drooped down to either side of his mouth like twin earthworms. It was hard not to look at them jiggle as he yelled at me for collapsing in front of him. We had been running for what seemed like forever and I was spent.

  That morning the Czak army had begun to break camp, but myself and Igvild along with Lieutenants Valka and Anya had been ordered by Captain Yentz to quickly pack our things. The four of us would be moving ahead of the army towards the dungeon located in Fanghoof Pass. Lieutenant Valka set a punishing pace.

  “You are a weakling, Bentface! The Dungeon will eat you alive and the Graf will curse the day you were born! Move!” I groaned and slowly got to my feet, shouldering my pack before starting out again at a jog. Igvild shot me a look filled with sympathy. I was the only one who was having a hard time keeping up the pace Valka set.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I’m not used to all this running. We didn’t do this sort of thing at the Orphanage,” I gasped. Valka was unmoved.

  “Aw, it’s the ‘I was a poor Orphan’ story, is it? You want me to carry you, is that it?”

  “No sir, I…”

  “We are all Orphans! Driven from our homeland by a weakling and his turncoat sister!” Lieutenant Valka growled and got close to my face. He smelled like horses and Vodka. “I would smell the air of my Motherland again! Walk her streets! Eat her food and taste proper Vodka once more! I don’t want to hear any more of your mewling! Do you understand me, Bentface?”

  “Yes, sir!” ‘Bentface’ was an old insult I was familiar with and it didn’t bother me overly much. Still, when I heard it with a Czak accent it sounded more like ‘Bintfas’ and it was hard not to crack a smile.

  My legs, my knees, my lungs, my back were all crying out for mercy, but I tamped it down. Lieutenant Valka was nowhere near as big as General Torlack. In fact, Valka was shorter than I, but that didn’t mean he lacked for intimidation. Igvild said Valka reminded him of something called a Rotweiler, but not as cuddly, whatever that meant.

  Lieutenant Anya kept to the rear of the party while Valka took the lead. When she spoke her words were short and to the point. Keep moving. Stop. Rest here. Sleep now. It was very easy to forget she was behind me sometimes, for she was able to move silently, even in armor. Her golden hair was cut short, but she kept it just long enough to cover the tips of her slightly elongated ears that gave away her Elven heritage.

  I wonder if I should tell her I overheard some of the soldiers say Lieutenant Valka is sweet on her? On second thought, she probably already knows. She seems smart.

  The terrain we covered began as a flat plain that turned into hills by the fourth day out. It was only the four of us now and by this point my body was so numb from using muscles I never knew I had that I was willing to take any small victory I could get, of which I found two.

  The first was my continued immunity to the cold. When we started gaining altitude the higher up we trekked, the more snow and blustery weather we encountered. The snow was wet, but I had been issued a pair of new boots that were already well broken in by a soldier who, according to Valka, no longer needed them on account of being dead. The wind was sharp as a knife for the others who walked with their hoods pulled low, but to me it was no different from an early Spring breeze. I still kept the hood of my Czak issued cloak pulled low just to keep up appearances. I didn’t want to disappoint Valka into thinking I wasn’t suffering like they rest of them were.

  “Winter’s coming early. It’ll be a problem if the Pass is blocked,” Valka muttered as he gazed skyward at the gray blanket above. A few flakes of snow danced and flittered around us as they were caught by the wind. One settled on my cheek and melted away into nothing in an instant.

  “The General always has more than a single plan. We move forward,” Anya said. I looked over at her. It was the most words I had heard her say yet.

  “I know that!” Valka growled back. Then he softened a bit. “I was only thinking about the horses and the livestock with the supply wagons. It wouldn’t be proper for officers to be afoot, let alone the Graf himself forced to walk!”

  “You’re afoot now?” I observed. Valka shot me a dirty look.

  “I’m not laying siege to Bludgard right now, am I? Shut up!” Valka stomped away growling under his breath. I didn’t hear much of what he said, but I heard Igvild snort behind me and I turned to see Anya rolling her eyes.

  “Be careful with your words around Valka, Davros. Like most pure blooded Czaks, he isn’t known for his patience or for having a tactical tongue.”

  “Um, thank you, Lieutenant Anya.” I answered. Anya had a deceptively low voice. I don’t know why, but I always assumed Elves would have higher, squeaky voices. I suppose her Human blood was to blame. It certainly didn’t detract from how pretty she was, however.

  That night we made camp in a copse of pine trees. Valka practically threw my bread ration at me, but I didn’t complain as I decided to take Anya’s warning to heart. Igvild also said little, but out of all of us he seemed the least done in by our daily hikes. If anything, he seemed to grow more and more invigorated the higher into the mountains we traveled.

  “A Dwarf likes a mountain,” he said after I asked him about it. “This place ain’t home, but it sure smells like it.” He patted the bark of the pine tree he had his back against. I wanted to ask him more about his home, but Valka interrupted us.

  “Listen up, Recruits. Tomorrow we’ll reach the foot of Fanghoof Pass. There’s a chance we might start running into packs of Slynt. Goat Men of the mountains.”

  “Goat men?” My eyes widened and I stared at Valka open mouthed. “Men who have turned into goats?”

  “No, you idiot! They are an aberration that looks like a cross between a man and a goat.” Valka smirked. “They enjoy eating men after hacking them to death.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “We will be more than a match for them,” Anya said walking up beside me. She glared at Valka who hadn’t lost his smirk. “If we do run into any Slynt, Davros you stay behind Lieutenant Valka and myself. We will tell you when to engage.”

  “Aye, we’ll see what a Pyromancer and a Dwarven Infiltrator can do in a fight. I won’t be getting my hopes up so just stay out of my way!” Valka swigged Vodka from a canteen and sat down near our small campfire. I had grown used to the smell of the potent Czak drink and could smell it at even at a distance. Valka, I noticed, drank a lot of it while Anya, like me, never touched the stuff.

  “You will fight, Davros. Do you understand?” Anya said. I blinked. She was standing very close. I was a foot taller than her and when she looked up at me I noticed how blue her eyes were and how the tip of her nose and her cheeks were slightly red from the cold. I looked away, suddenly very self-conscious of my pronounced underbite. I’d never had a girl stand so close to me before. It made me uncomfortable.

  “I understand, Lieutenant Anya. I’ve never fought a..a Slynt before or anything like that, but I can throw a Fire Bolt and I will.” Anya nodded.

  “You will need to learn to ration your Mana as we do food. How many Fire Bolts can you cast before you start to feel weak? Being drained of Mana can cause lightheadedness and fainting. What is your limit?”

  “I…I don’t know, I’m sorry.” I hung my head, disappointed for not having the answer, but Anya only nodded again as if she expected me to answer exactly as I had.

  “Then we will need to find out. Come.” Anya turned on her heel and I followed. I noticed Valka eyeing us both and frowning, but Igvild belched and asked him if he wanted to split my ration of Vodka with him, which the Lieutenant quickly replied in the affirmative.

  Lieutenant Anya and I walked for about ten minutes before she stopped at an area where the pines weren’t as thick and we were standing near the edge of a slope that curved downwards towards a frozen over lake. It was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. I must have said so aloud, because Lieutenant Anya snorted and looked at me with a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

  “You appreciate the beauty of nature? This is good. Just remember that nature can also be treacherous and be as without mercy as any mob of Slynt.” Anya drew a dagger from her boot and walked over to a small pine tree where she scored it with an X and then repeated the process with two other pines further and further away. I waited patiently until Anya returned to stand a short distance from me. Without looking at me she indicated her targets with a chin gesture.

  “You are a Pyromancer, Davros. A ranged attacker whose sole purpose is to do as much damage as possible as quickly as possible. Lieutenant Valka is trained as a Soldier Defender and I am a Combat Medic.”

  “So the both of you are Awakened too?” Anya shook her head.

  “No. Neither of us are Awakened like you and Igvild. Your kind becomes more and more uncommon with each passing year. However, it is possible for one, through rigorous training, to earn a Class. We are called Class Forged, which are much more common. Only yourself, Igvild and General Torlack are Awakened.” I slowly nodded as I took what she said and tried to make sense of it.

  “What is the difference?” Anya sighed and pointed at the first target.

  “I suppose it’s good you are asking these questions, but even I am a bit amazed at your lack of education. The difference is that Awakened level faster, receive incredible Eye given benefits like Traits and Achievements and are also more likely to attract rare mobs in dungeons. It’s why Valka volunteered to lead this party into the Holler. He’s hoping for a chance at rare loot drops for partying with you and Igvild.” Lieutenant Anya withdrew a familiar looking wand from the pouch at her side and waved it above my Manastop bracelet. There was a familiar click and I was able to remove it from my wrist. In an instant, I could touch the mana in my core once more. It felt good. I felt even warmer than I had a moment before. “Now, use your Fire Bolt on that first target.”

  I raised my finger and summoned a tiny pea of flame that streaked off towards the pine tree, slamming into it and driving a finger width hole into the bark. It smoked and there was a tiny flicker of flame around the hole that indicated I had successfully set the tree on fire giving it the [Burning] debuff as indicated by a notification I received.”

  “Again. Keep shooting all three targets until you can’t anymore!”

  “Yessir!” I smiled. This was fun. I cast bolt after bolt. I hit each tree every single time, not missing once. Once, twice and third time for each tree until finally as I was about to start over for the fourth time I let out a gasp and fell to my knees. My strength finally gave out, my mana depleted.

  “That was impressive, Davros. You are able to handle about ten fire bolts before your mana is depleted. Your accuracy is well above normal as well. Far better than I expected, but then you are the first Pyromancer I have ever met.” Anya eyed the burning trees, but made no move to douse them.

  “Are there other mages you have met?” I gasped. I was still recovering and Anya tossed me a water skin indicating I should drink which I gratefully did.

  “There are several, both Awakened and Forged. Class Forged Mages hardly ever get a rare class. Most are general practitioners unless someone gets lucky and finds a rare spell in a dungeon that allows them a bit more flexibility in their build.” Anya hesitated a moment and looked away as she confronted a difficult memory. “I shouldn’t be the one telling you this, but the Graf’s sister is a powerful Frost Sorceress. That is her current, advanced Class as far as I know. When she first Awakened as an Aquamancer, the old Graf sent her West to study at the Tower of High Arts. She is…most formidable. It was quite a blow to Graf von Kohlblud when she sided with Friedrich over him.”

  I felt better after draining nearly half the water skin. I looked inward and saw that my Mana was replenishing, albeit slowly. Anya must have heard my relieved sigh.

  “Your mana is slow to restore due to your low Focus score, as I heard you mention it being. Raising base Attributes is difficult. Nearly impossible for some of them. The potions created by high level Alchemists that can permanently do so are highly sought after and expensive. Dungeon Bosses and wandering Elites will drop Skills or Spells which you can add to your repertoire. Magical equipment will occasionally drop, which can buff attributes as well. The most efficient way to level Attributes, however, is by becoming a Dungeon Delver.”

  “Why is that the best way?” I asked curiously.

  “When a monster dies, aside from dropping coins or items, they will occasionally drop small glowing orbs of varying colors. The colors will tell you which Attribute they are associated with. Blue for Will, Purple for Focus, Green for Speed, Red for Force and Yellow for Presence. There are other colors that occasionally drop, but they are so rare as if to be rumor only. Then, even when you gain an essence absorbing them gives you only a sliver of a single point of the attribute. It takes a very long time to raise them that way, but it can be done.” Lieutenant accepted back her skin of water and gave me a hand up. She was stronger than she looked and I felt as if she were almost lifting me up without any help from me.

  “You didn’t mention the color for the Fortune attribute?” Anya shook her head.

  “That’s because there isn’t one. Fortune attribute orbs do not exist. I would advise you to save your coin to gain some equipment when the opportunity arises in the future. No Mage, Awakened or Forged, will last very long with such poor Focus.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant Anya. Thank you.”

  Lieutenant Anya walked over to each of the burning trees, drawing a small hand ax from her belt. With a single swipe she cut down each tree and after they were brought down, she kicked fallen snow onto each until their fires were out.”

  “You’re very strong, Lieutenant Anya.” Those trees had been small, but not that small. A single swipe of her ax! Anya laughed. It was a pleasant sound to hear.

  “I have been training many years and am now Level 8 and have three Active Skills and a single Passive. Not an easy feat when you are Forged. Still, your words are appreciated.”

  I looked at the burnt and wasted trees on the ground and it made me remember Corlo. Anya must have seen something on my face for she cocked her head and eyed me.

  “What is it? Speak freely.” I shrugged.

  “I was just remembering Corlo. That’s the person I…killed. I didn’t mean to do it, but I’m not really all that upset about it anymore. Is that wrong?” Lieutenant Anya stared at me a moment before she responded.

  “It was the first time you killed someone, yes?” I nodded. “I’m not going to tell you whether it was good or bad that you killed this Corlo or that you should or should not be upset over causing his death. Awakened often lead short, violence filled lives.” She fixed me with a hard stare. “You will kill again or you will die.”

  Sympathy was not something an Orphan looked for or expected to receive ever, but Lieutenant Anya patted me briefly on the arm as she walked past me, heading back towards our camp. It gave me a strange feeling, but I knew that besides Igvild I would work hard to make Lieutenant Anya my friend and that if she needed me to, I would use my power to help her. Even if it meant burning more than just trees into ashes.