After the talk about stats and skills started looping in on itself, I got up and caught Quinn by the shoulder while nodding towards the darker edge of the camp.

  “Walk with me,” I said.

  He glanced back at the fire, at Melissa, who was poking at the coals with a stick and half-listening to Rhea. “Uh. I was kind of in the middle of—”

  “Walk,” I repeated, already moving.

  He hesitated, then followed, throwing one last longing look over his shoulder like a sailor watching the shore recede.

  We walked a short distance, far enough that the firelight dulled and the sounds of the camp softened into background noise. Quinn crossed his arms, clearly annoyed.

  “You didn’t have to drag me away,” he said. “I was doing fine.”

  I stopped and turned to face him. “You weren’t.”

  He bristled immediately. “I wasn’t trying to impress her or anything.”

  I didn’t say a word. I just looked at him.

  He held my gaze for two seconds, then looked away. “Okay, maybe a little.”

  I sighed, rubbing my face. “Quinn. You won’t impress any girl with that kind of talking. Ever.”

  He snapped back, defensive. “You don’t know that.”

  “I do,” I said calmly. “Because I’ve done it wrong more times than you’ve done it at all.”

  That got his attention.

  “I’m not pulling you aside to embarrass you,” I continued. “I’m doing it because you helped me. A lot. And I don’t forget that.”

  He shifted his weight, suddenly less combative.

  “Bragging doesn’t work,” I said. “Girls don’t want to hear a list of your achievements.” They want to laugh. They want to enjoy the moment. They desire a companion who actively listens, is present, and does not view the conversation as a means of gaining access to their personal space.

  He frowned. “Easy for you to say. You’ve got… you know.” He gestured vaguely at me. “Looks. Confidence. You were a lawyer. Probably rich. You never had trouble with women.”

  I snorted softly. “That part’s mostly true. And you know what that got me when I didn’t know how to hold a conversation?”

  He looked at me.

  “Gold diggers,” I said. “People who liked what I represented, not who I was. The moment the shine wore off, so did they.”

  That gave him pause.

  I continued, "The most crucial factor, particularly given the current state of chaos in the world, is competence." Real competence. Not loud, not flashy. The kind that shows when things go wrong.”

  I pointed a thumb at his chest. “You’re a better scout and killer than anyone here. You move like a ghost. You take down monsters that people twice your size can’t even approach.”

  “I’m not a kid,” he muttered.

  I raised an eyebrow. “How old are you?”

  “…Fifteen.”

  I just looked at him again.

  He sighed. “Okay. Fine.”

  “You’re young,” I said, softer now. “Not stupid. You already understand things most people here don’t. But women, relationships, life experiences—you’re not there yet. And that’s fine.”

  He scowled. “So what, I just give up?”

  “No,” I said. “You observe.”

  I nodded back towards the camp. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

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  He hesitated, then smirked. “Yeah, sure. As long as you’re not going for Alya.”

  I stopped mid-step. “Why?”

  I already knew the answer. I just wanted him to say it.

  “Because she’s all over you already,” he said, exasperated. “Didn’t you notice? She watches you constantly. Always backs you up. Always checks if you’re hurt. She’s cooked, man.”

  I smiled faintly. “And why do you think that is?”

  He blinked. “…Because you saved her?”

  “Partly,” I said. “We saved her life. We pushed for the ritual. I gave her reassurance when she was breaking down. And after all that, I didn’t ask for anything in return.”

  I met his eyes. “Copy that. Apply it.”

  We walked back.

  When we reached the fire, Rhea and Melissa were deep in conversation, animated now. I caught snippets. Classes. Skills. Apparently Melissa was a mage, while Rhea’s ritualist class didn’t even give her spells, just structures, preparations, and long-term effects.

  Quinn sat near Melissa, but not too close this time. A respectful distance. Good.

  I sat across from Rhea instead.

  “I was thinking about your class; it really is fascinating,” I said casually. “Ritual-only magic isn’t something I’ve ever even considered. What kind of skills did you get?”

  She brightened immediately. “Oh. Uh. Mostly preparation stuff. Circles. Anchors. Conditional effects and insight into how magic works. It’s not very flashy.”

  “Flashy is overrated,” I said, then continued with a knowing smile. “But I’m more interested in why the system offered it to you.”

  She laughed. “Probably because I was the weird goth girl trying to summon spirits in my friend’s basement.”

  I chuckled. “Looks like you were onto something.”

  She laughed too, relaxing, as she told the story. She used candles, chalk, and made mistakes in her pronunciation of Latin words. I laughed at the right moments, asked questions, and listened. When I pointed out that she’d already saved three lives with her rituals, her smile turned shy and proud at the same time.

  Across the fire, I caught Quinn’s eye. He was watching, focused.

  A moment later, I heard Melissa laugh. A real one.

  Progress.

  Rhea leant closer as the conversation drifted towards ritual theory, touching my arm lightly when I made a particularly dry joke. I didn’t lean in. Didn’t pull away either. Just stayed there, having fun; the girl was good conversation, and I didn’t have to fake interest.

  After a while, Alya showed up.

  Clean now. Hair damp and clothes still drying. She sat besides me, eyes flicking between Rhea and me, expression carefully neutral.

  I pretended not to notice.

  I stayed friendly. Open. Nothing more.

  After a minute spent listening to us, Alya spoke.

  “So,” she said lightly, eyes still on the fire. “Ritual magic, huh? Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.”

  I shrugged. “I’m mostly interested in the theory about why the magic works; maybe if I can manage to understand it a bit more, I can improve my use of spells. And Rhea’s magic control is already far superior to mine, so I stand to learn something from her.”

  Rhea smiled at that, a little pleased, then after seeing how the conversation was going, excused herself to check on something near the shelters, leaving us with the crackle of wood and the murmur of the camp.

  Alya glanced after her, then back to me. “You always do that.”

  “Do what?” I asked.

  “Encourage people without making it obvious.” She tilted her head, studying me. “It’s annoying.”

  I huffed a quiet laugh. “I’ll add it to my list of crimes.”

  She smiled faintly, then the humour drained, replaced by something more thoughtful. “You’ve changed, I can tell,” she said. “In the safe zone, it felt like you were genuinely trying to help these people survive. I was watching you; well, everyone was. But now, it feels like your interest changed, like you are searching for something. You push for power, but I don’t think it’s that you want, really. What do you want?”

  “I want a great deal of things,” I started counting on my fingers. “Adventure, power, immortality, love, a cat...”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” She picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. “You are doing what you’re doing for a purpose; you have a goal. And every action is planned five moves ahead.”

  I stared into the flames; it was time for a diversion. “I didn’t have any purpose when I wanted to save you,” I said, and then I looked up at the sky. “I just did what I felt I needed to do.”

  And it wasn’t even a lie; I really did it for no other reason than a strange feeling. Evidently, the sincerity in my words resonated.

  Alya hesitated, then asked, softly, “And where does that leave us?”

  I met her eyes then, really met them, stormy sky against clear blue. “Alive. Preferably together.”

  Her gaze searched my face, as if weighing that answer. Finally, she exhaled and leant back, shoulders easing.

  “…Good,” she said. “Because I don’t like being left behind.”

  I smiled, small and genuine. “Noted.”

  For a moment, neither of us spoke. The fire popped, sending sparks into the dark, and Alya nudged my knee lightly with her own.

  “Get some rest, Elias,” she said. “You look like you’re running on fumes.”

  “Rich advice, coming from someone who was more dead than alive just this morning.”

  She smirked. “I still feel energised after the ritual and the plums, and someone has to keep watch to make sure nobody does something stupid.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Too late for that.”

  She laughed under her breath, stood, and before leaving added, quieter, “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Then she was gone, leaving the fire a little warmer than before.

  Eventually, I stood too, leaving Quinn and Melissa by themselves; the kid was making progress at last.

  Goodnights were exchanged. Then I headed towards the river.

  The water was cold, shockingly so, but it felt pure. I scrubbed blood and grime from my skin and washed my clothes as best I could, then hung them on a branch near the shelter where I’d laid my bedroll earlier. I would have liked to take a swim, but the river was far too shallow to even attempt.

  I crawled in my bedroll after drying myself as best as I could. I wasn’t even shivering, though, probably a side effect of higher stats.

  As I closed my eyes, one thought drifted through my mind.

  Tomorrow was going to be complicated.

  But I had no doubt it would be full of surprises; this tutorial wasn’t that bad after all.

  20 chapters ahead!