“We are not alone. Though the night is long, the darkness does not last forever, and the stars will never fade from existence. The magnanimous Fevdohr has made it so, the heavenly bodies replacing Athon’s star when it disappears in the west.”

Not even an hour had passed before Aleya had returned, dragging me off to “nightly prayer”. Many people had gathered at what seemed like the center of the stronghold, where an open space formed a town square of sorts. Patriarch Davion’s voice boomed through the crowd, elevated on a platform that Aleya told me held a stone obelisk; Fevdohr’s words had supposedly been etched onto it.

“What is Athon?” I asked Aleya, and she quickly shushed me.

“It is the land we are on. Athon, the Continent of the Fallen,” she whispered. I had told her where I come from, so she wasn’t surprised by my lack of common knowledge. “It is named that way due to Fevdohr dropping inhabitants every hundred years, hence the ‘Fallen’.”

It made me wonder which had come first: this worshiped god, or the unexplainable events that required the creation of a god to understand them.

Davion continued. “Devote yourself to Fevdohr, and learn from him. Obey him, and your soul will find rest.” He paused, taking a breath. “Do not forget the song of the stars, do not forget your prayers, and do not forget Fevdohr. He brings the light, and shall relieve us of our burdens. Our Lord, have mercy.”

The crowd repeated his ending words, and some fell to the ground, the sound of cracking knees on unforgiving stone ringing out. The priest scoffed behind me, muttering his own prayers. I pondered on what god he worshipped, as in turn, it would be my god.

Who did I pray to, when the dark became overbearing? Did my subliminal thoughts worship at all, or had I only prayed for freedom?

“Come, Cain,” Aleya said, tugging on my arm. “There is much to do in the morning.”

***

The tip of my nose was frozen, the morning air damp and heavy. Under my skin, I let [Summon Flame] heat my blood, keeping me from freezing.

“We tend the crops every morning,” Aleya told me. “Especially since winter is drawing closer, we must harvest as much as we can before the ground becomes too hard to grow seeds.” She took a step forward, reaching out her arms. Once again, mana began to flow from her hands, moving through the air to sink into the ground.

“What are you doing to the crops?” I asked, and she chuckled.

“I’m helping them grow! I am not a [Farmer], but a skill I possess can increase the efficacy at which something completes a task. It’s called [Boost Target].”

I hummed, shoving my hands into a jacket she had gotten for me. “Can it affect people as well?”

“Yes. If I concentrate, I can do two targets at once, and boost the workers, but I am not that skilled at it yet.” She pushed her skill harder, and streams of mana swirled through the air to wrap around a man who stood in the fields. It almost seemed like a warm embrace, and the man moved faster because of it.

“I try to do everything I can,” Aleya said softly. “I am only grateful this skill was given to me so I can be of use.”

I frowned, finding her wording odd. Did she not earn her skill through trying, like I had with my own magic? It did not seem to be an impossible concept. Perhaps a highly proficient person could give a skill to another—maybe by just teaching them. Or, perhaps she was only referring to her god, dismissing her talent as a gift.

If that was the case, it annoyed me. Giving credit where it was not due had always irked me, even if it was to some god.

“Do you think you would be capable of working in the fields?” Aleya asked.

I thought it over, before responding. “No. I do not trust myself to not break the crops, or know what I should touch and what I should not.”

“I see. We’ll have to find you something else to do, then. Do you have any skills that you think would be useful?”

“I have a [Chop] skill from cutting down trees. That might have some use,” I responded.

“Oh, yes, I have just the job for you!” She deactivated her skill, walking away quickly as she called for me. “Come along!” Shrugging, I followed.

Back to the stronghold, Aleya weaved through streets and past people. Many greeted her, and she always responded in kind. With some people, she would stop to chat for just a second, usually asking about something only a close friend would know.

Aleya seemed to be a figurehead in this place; she was almost a leader as she answered questions and gave advice. It was dizzying to experience such expansive networking—how did she remember all these people? Were they each equally important to her, enough for her to be so considerate?

We came to a stop at a building that was partially isolated from the rest, and the quiet atmosphere was a welcome change from the bustling streets. Aleya knocked on the door before letting herself in.

“Lewis! Are you in?” she called into the silent house.

Moving deeper in, she turned a corner and gasped. “Lewis, why didn’t you answer when I called?”

A gruff voice responded. “Because I knew you would find me eventually. I was right.”

Aleya sighed before she turned back to me. I had stayed at the door, not wanting to venture farther into a house that was not my own. “Come here, Cain. I think Lewis will have some work for you.”

I turned the corner as well, coming to a stop. A man sat, his large and powerful frame pinging my senses even in its relaxed state. He held an object in his hand, and I sensed a knife in the other. I tensed, taking a step back.

Lewis stood, his chair screeching back from his sudden movement. “Who is this stranger? What did you bring him here for?”

Aleya placed a hand on his arm, placating him. “If you had come to last night's prayer, you would know. This is Cain, a traveler,” she introduced. “He needs a job while he’s here, and he has previous experience with wood. So, I was wondering if he could help you out,” she wrongly explained. Unless destroying wood counts as experience.

The man stayed silent, seeming to consider. “Fine, but only because you asked.”

“Great!” Aleya exclaimed. She moved closer, giving him a hug. “You’re the best uncle ever.”

He huffed, but still patted her on the back. “False flattery will get you nowhere.”

Aleya stepped back, shushing him. “Don’t expose my secrets!” Turning to me, she squeezed my arm before rushing past. “See you, Cain. Get along now!” Then, she was gone.

The house quickly grew silent. I did not break it, so I waited it out before Lewis seemed to run out of patience.

“What can you do, boy?” he demanded, rather than asked.

Curtly, I repeated what I had told Aleya. “I have a [Chop] skill. I gained it from cutting down trees.” Lewis laughed, a rough sound.

“[Chop]? Damn that girl. I’m a [Carpenter], not a [Lumberjack],” he muttered. Sighing, he turned away from me. “Fine. I guess I do have something for you. Follow me.”

He walked out a back door to an expansive yard. He gestured with his hand at something, but even with my current perception, I couldn’t pinpoint what he wanted me to notice.

“I have this pile of logs, and at the moment, they’re too big to do anything accurate with. I mostly make furniture, and I need some smaller pieces,” Lewis explained. “Take half that pile, and cut each log into two equal pieces. Got it?”

I hadn’t taken my axe with me this morning, as it had seemed unnecessary to walk around a seemingly peaceful town with a large weapon. I still had my knife at the ready, however. Hoping Lewis would have one I could borrow, I asked.

“Do you have an axe I could use?”

“Yeah, it's in the kitchen.”

“Could you show me where?”

He paused, stopping his departure. “What, do you need me to baby your every move?” Lewis said, clearly annoyed. I sighed. I had grown tired of explaining my disability to every person I met.

“I am blind. I can still do the work correctly, but you will need to show me where certain things are.”

Lewis coughed, stepping back. “What? You’re kidding.” When I shook my head in confirmation, he laughed. “That girl sent me a blind helper, huh. Who would’ve thought.”

He left me standing there, before returning with an axe which he abruptly shoved into my hands. “Get to work, then.” Lewis returned inside, probably to get back to his own work.

I did as he said, moving along the back of the house to discover a pile of logs. His words had been true, as they seemed to stretch on for maybe a dozen feet. Leaning my axe against the wall, I picked up the end of a log that was not leaning on any others.

Pulling it out had my arms shaking and my shoulders straining to drag the extensive length out. I dropped the end with a grunt when it was clear of the other logs. Picking up my axe, I hefted it over my shoulder as I considered how to proceed.

Lewis had said to cut the logs in half. I couldn’t tell where that was, and I didn’t have a measuring stick. I would go with a primitive method, then. Moving to the end of the log, I counted my steps as I walked to measure its length. Cutting the amount of steps in half, I moved to where I assumed the center to be. Adjusting the handle of the axe in a more comfortable grip, I swung my axe over my head, heavily bringing it down.

I wasn’t prepared for how easily the wood would cut. My tool smoothly bisected the log, and the momentum continued to bury the axe deep in the ground. It took a couple of tugs to pull it out of the earth, and I marveled at how quick it had been.

My skill [Chop] had not been used on wood since its last upgrade, and its change was noticeable. I had cleanly cut through a tree with one motion, and the resistance had felt like nothing to my body.

Given, it was thinner than most trees I had previously cut down, but it still seemed too easy. I had noticed the skill change when I fought the lynx in the forest, but it was much more noticeable now. This task would be over in no time.

The hardest part was moving the logs, their sizes still too massive for me to drag comfortably. After I had pulled one away from the pile, the rest of the job was easy work. I moved the separated halves off to the side, creating a second pile. Once half of the logs were cut—seventeen, to be exact—I set my axe down and entered the house to inform Lewis.

I startled him when I walked into the room, and he seemed irritated at being interrupted. “What is it? Do you need help with something else?”

“I’m done,” I told him. He stayed quiet, before repeating my words.

“You’re done?”

“Yes,” I affirmed.

“How? It's been, what, two hours?” Lewis stood, stomping out of the building to check the accuracy of my words. He stopped as he observed my obviously completed task.

“My skill is capable. I can chop through trees pretty easily,” I explained, hoping he would get over his disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah, I can see that,” he muttered. “These cuts are all clean! Did it only require one swing?” I nodded my head, and he laughed in delight. My eyebrows rose at his sudden change of attitude. “Your skill is commendable, Cain! I’ll have more work for you yet!”

I was not too sure if I should be happy about that or not. For some reason, his use of my name made my skin crawl.