Even though Micah had decided on it, pulling through was a different matter entirely.

He sat slumped on the edge of the broken-down staircase, his legs hanging, and stared at the darkness. Behind him, the tunnel was red. Just red. That had been enough to stop him in his tracks. He’d wanted to shrug it off, but he couldn’t. His shoulders wouldn’t move the way he wanted them to.

It was one thing pretending, and another wanting to try, but pulling through … Yeah.

Micah knew he couldn’t really afford to be sitting here. He had to be home before dark or his parents might get suspicious. Not that he really cared. He had a spare change of clothes with him in case he fought any fully-formed monsters—to hide the blood stains—but he didn’t really have a plan for if a wolf injured him in an obvious place. A scratch he might have been able to lie about, but a bite?

What? Was he supposed to say, “Oh, a stray dog bit me”?

Yeah, no, his parents weren’t a priority. Micah just wanted this to be done with, but he was beginning to realize that it wouldn’t be that simple.

You can’t just apologize to someone and expect them to forgive you, he remembered Linda say.

He tossed a pebble down the chasm in frustration.

You can’t just face your fears and expect them to go away.

Well, he hadn’t actually done that yet, had he? He was still sitting here. But he knew it was the truth, even if he were to try.

You could turn back? a voice inside him said.

For a moment, Micah imagined it to be Linda’s. The last time he’d talked himself into doing something like this, he’d talked to her, too, after all. She had tried to talk him out of it. But then the voice went on to say, You tried. Isn’t that enough? And somehow, that didn’t sound very Linda-like at all. Not that Micah knew her, really. He doubted he ever would. Some people were just destined to become strangers.

You got your mother’s hunting knife back.

It was dull and rusted now.

You faced the wolves.

“I wasn’t really afraid of them in the first place,” he mumbled.

That’s what? Two out of six? Isn’t that good enough?

“Seven”, Micah corrected himself, “and no it’s not enough.”

He didn’t want to leave without having gone back. If he did now, he feared he might never return. Not just because of himself, but also because of the Tower. What if he missed his chance and never found his way back here? What then?

Micah didn’t want some part of the Tower to be taboo to him, to exist only in his dreams, a dark shape at the bottom of his mind. He wanted to be free. If didn’t do this now, he’d never be.

Your first trip warped you, the voice grumbled, sounding different.

When Micah turned to his left, he saw Ryan sitting there and almost laughed. Ryan, and not his mom, or his dad, or Prisha, was supposed to be his voice of— of what? Reason? Fear? Weakness? How were any of those fair?

Since when has the ability to go into the Salamander’s Den been your definition of freedom? Ryan asked. Always with the direct questions. Everything was simple with him. Everything black and white.

“It’s about more than that, and you know it,” Micah growled.

The other boy didn’t react until Micah realized he had to imagine him reacting. He was all alone down here.

So you’re going to go anyway? Ryan asked.

Micah nodded.

When?

“Give me a moment.”

He just— He just needed a single moment to collect himself.

When? the voice seemed to ask anyway. It just wouldn’t shut up. When?

Go back.

“Shut up!” Micah said.

You could give yourself to [Savagery], Ryan suggested. Isn’t that part of it? Abuse their weaknesses. Ignore your own. And something else … What’s the something else? I wonder.

Micah shook his head. It wasn’t important, and he didn’t want to do that anyway. [Lesser Vibrancy] he could measure, somewhat. If only he could get his hands on some books to compare. But he wasn’t sure how much of [Savagery] was him. Half? Less?

Micah wanted this to be him.

Flower— Ryan went on, but Micah clenched his teeth and pushed the voice away as if shouting into his own head. He didn’t want to talk about this.

He took a deep breath, got his light potion out of his bag, and stood up. Then he made his way into the cave.

It felt like a dream going back there. In his anger, Micah didn’t know if it was a good one or bad.

The light of his potion did funny things in the red light of the cave. It turned pink at the end of its reach, where it met the light of the cavern, and formed tendrils that snaked across the rock. They bent and warped around the empty veins in the wall, and burned away before the glowing ones. Everything was silent and dusty. Everything was just the way he’d left it. It was as if Micah had never left.

Getting down the mountain of rubble was tricky—he didn’t remember the path—but Micah managed. There was no second treasure chest at the bottom. He looked. It eased his urge to go back to the other cave, the one in the forest, and check for another pair of Growing Boots.

At the end of the last staircase, he climbed a tall rock and slipped into a rabbit hole. Last time, he’d hugged his knees and hidden from the red light. Last time, he’d only had a glowing golden mess of cloth to hold on to. This time, his potion was blue and Micah crouched, ready, as he peered into the darkness.

A Salamander might have crawled in here. But as he made his way forward, he found none.

It was the fourth tunnel that did it. Micah didn’t remember which tunnel led where, so he had to explore them all over again. His bag made crawling all the much slower, but he would rather have it with him and slow him down than not have it at all.

Just when Micah thought this tunnel was another dead end, he wormed his way around a bend and caught a glimpse of red.

For a second, he really thought he was dreaming. He had enough room to move his arms, though, so even if he was, it definitely wasn’t a bad dream. He hurried up to crawl the rest of the stretch.

There, Micah pushed himself head-first out of the rubble and rolled into the Salamander’s Den. He checked left and right, and found himself in the middle of one of its large tunnels. Everything was almost the way he remembered it. There were cracks in the some of the walls, and loose rubble here and there. Everything seemed a little bit dimmer, too. Micah wondered if it was because of the fire essence that was hidden to him now.

He shook his head and gaped in disbelief as he breathed. He’d actually found it! It was still there. He kept on checking the tunnel around him, even the ceiling, as he put his light potion away and pulled out his knife.

Hopefully, the Salamanders would still be there, too.

He got up and looked right and just then, one of said Salamanders walked around the bend at the end of the tunnel. It spotted him and froze.

Micah spotted it and did the same. Then he checked his back for any unwelcome additions— there were none—pulled out his slingshot, and met its hissing charge. This time, he told himself, he was prepared. Both physically and mentally.

The Salamander was fast, but Micah had the range advantage and he planned on using it. No more childish dreams of fighting monsters head-on. If there was a tool he could use, he would.

Even so, he only grazed it with one stone before it got too close—it was small and quick, and Micah wasn’t the best shot. But when it lunged and tried to bite his leg, Micah simply shifted it back and knelt, pushing his knee down on its head and trapping it against the ground for a moment. Already, it was trying to slip free. A single stab from a neglected blade and it burst into smoke.

Micah hopped around a bit to shake off his hot knee, but kept a vigil eye out for any would-be ambushers. Surprisingly, there were none. He plucked the crystal off the floor and headed further in.

It didn’t take him long to find another Salamander. It was licking its eyeballs on the ceiling of the next tunnel. Micah shot it down on his third try. It hit the floor and a single strong kick from him—like kicking a ball—made it burst.

The next ten Salamanders he fought fared just as well as those two.

Micah fought them one on one, after all, unlike last time, and they were all unmade. He also kept a watch out and avoided five attempted ambushes. Only once did he barely fight two—one attacked him right as the other died—and the worst injuries he got were some faint scratches that didn’t even pierce the skin.

He didn’t find a Kobold, any fully-formed, or even any rooms for that matter. That meant no stairs, no treasure, no portals.

Micah did find one “monster part”, which was strange since they were supposed to be rarer than actual fully-formed. It came in the form of a single large Salamander scale that stuck to the crystal’s side. When Micah tried to pry it off, lots and lots of sticky-looking glowing strands held it fast against the stone. Some of them ripped when he tugged a little. It wouldn’t be hard to pull the scale off, but Micah wondered if he could use those strands somehow, rather than the actual monster part. What were they?

Curiosity fed, he let go and smoothed the scale over with his thumb. He didn’t want it rotting, after all. He needed it for potions. Maybe a fire resistance potion, or a [Hot Skin] one? Then he could know what it was like to be Ryan.

[Hot Skin], Micah corrected himself, smiling a little. He’d asked Ryan something about it with a note during class one time, and the boy had traced the lines with red, saying that the Skill had that color on his mind.

How weird was that?

Thoughts like that filled Micah’s mind as he climbed back out of the cave. Everything seemed off to him then, like he was still dreaming. He was just aware enough to know that it was worrying, so after collecting his rope from the tree he’d wrapped it around, Micah climbed it to calm down. He thought he’d wait until he spotted a wolf and knew where his enemies were. That was sure to get him to focus again.

But no wolf came. Eventually, he climbed back down and made his way back, forcing himself to be careful. Six trees, climb, wait, scout, climb back down again.

On his way back, he picked up the fourth mist crystal that he’d shot at the wolf before. He wondered if there was some way he could shoot more dangerous things than rocks. Maybe he could lace them with something? Could he do the same with a knife?

Then he reminded himself that he had to force himself to climb.

Halfway back to the exit, a wolf did howl in the far-off distance and Micah finally felt his heartbeat, his eyes focus, his ears fill with sound. It was like his body filled with life. He sat on a branch and aimed with his slingshot, looking all around himself. Where were they?

He heard more sounds in the distance. More than one thing running. A fly kept on buzzing in his ear—

Micah slapped the fly against his neck and froze. He looked at the dead insect in his palm. What was this doing here? Did it wander in through the portal? He didn’t think there were supposed to be any critters in the Tower.

Something burst through the brush below him just then, and Micah almost slipped off his branch in fright. He gripped the bark with one hand and half of the other—he only had a few fingers free. Then he quickly pulled a stone back and aimed.

It was a wolf, standing with its back to Micah, growling at a brush.

Micah hit it on his first try and it burst.

“What?” he asked, disbelieving.

Only after the smoke cleared did he spot the arrow lying on the ground, right next to the wolf’s crystal. A man with a bow and forest-colored clothing stepped up to collect them. He picked up Micah’s pebble, too, and stared at it for a moment. Then his head snapped up to stare right at where Micah sat in his tree, a look of surprise on his face.

“Ho, there,” he said and frowned. “Comrade? Are you alright?”

“Uhm, I’m fine?” Micah called back.

A person, he thought. Another person … in the Tower?

This was the first time he was encountering someone in the Tower, aside from Ryan. But Micah hadn’t exactly been conscious enough to process it back then. All he remembered was a silhouette in the entrance, a voice full of worry, a burning stick, and then a shout.

“Seb,” a female voice called, and Micah’s eyes looked behind the man. A woman came out of the thin fog. And then another man behind her.

People, Micah amended his earlier assessment.

They both had spears and shields with them, and leathery-looking armor covered with chain mesh and metal in some parts. Mostly around the end of their limbs and necks. Anywhere a wolf might prefer biting, Micah assumed. That seemed a little excessive to him—he was doing just fine in shorts—but then again, he wasn’t exactly the authority on safety.

“Did you get it?” she asked.

“I sure did,” the archer said, idly holding the crystal up over his shoulder. Then he nodded in Micah’s direction. “And I found somethi— one else.”

His two companions looked up.

“What— Oh.”

“Hello,” Micah said awkwardly.

“Hello,” the woman called back.

“Do you need help?” the man behind her asked, his voice deep, and his expression mildly concerned.

Micah shook his head. “Uhm, no, thank you. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? You look a little … young, to be here,” the woman tried.

“I’m using the [Archer] method,” Micah explained and held his slingshot out for them to see.

“I see,” the, presumably, [Archer] of their group said. Seb was his name, right?

“I’m on my way back right now,” Micah assured them. “I’m not far from my exit.”

“And where’s that?” the man with the shield asked again. He stood at the back of the trio, but he spoke loud and clear. He seemed the most interested in Micah’s situation. Was he their leader?

“Just a few more minutes in … uhm, that direction.” Micah pointed.

“An exit on the fourth floor?” the woman muttered, then called up, “Good to know. Thanks for pointing it out to us.”

She gave him a thumbs up and Micah gladly returned the gesture. A kindred soul, thankfully. Unfortunately, her companions made no move to leave.

“Uhm, are you hunting wolves?” Micah asked.

“Yes,” the leader—Micah decided he was their leader—said. “We just got up the stairs. Any tips you can give us?”

Micah was a little surprised by the question. They were asking him for tips? Was it maybe proper climber etiquette? He considered it. What could he offer?

“If you walk about ten minutes that way,” he said and pointed. “You should find a cave in the wall. I was there a few weeks ago and there was a treasure chest. I emptied it, but if it’s still there, maybe the chest itself has value? A pack of wolves protects the area. Last time, it had two fully-formed amongst its numbers.”

“A few weeks ago?” the woman asked eagerly and glanced at her allies. “Could be new by now.”

“Even the pack would be enough,” the [Archer] said with a shrug.

“What was in it?” the woman asked him. “The chest?”

“Uhm, a quiver of arrows and a pair of Growing Boots,” Micah called down, then remembered something else. Ryan had seemed surprised when Micah told him how many wolf crystals had been in the chest, meaning he hadn’t put them there.

“And two wolf crystals.”

“Ooh, let’s go check it out,” she said. “Thanks, kid!”

She moved as if to walk away, but the other two still stood there and stared at Micah.

“And you really don’t need any help?” their [Archer] asked.

“We wouldn’t take your loot if you did,” the leader added.

“Thank you, but I’m fine. Really,” he said. “I even have more than I need, in case you need something? I have a weak light potion I won’t use after this, and some healing potions and bandages.”

The [Archer] smiled weakly, but the man just shook his head and called back to the woman.

“I can’t just leave a kid in a tree, here, Abi,” he called. “I’m bringing him to his exit.”

“Oh, what?” she called back, turning around.

“No, no! It’s really alright!” Micah called quickly.

“Not to him,” the [Archer] told Micah, nodding at their leader. “Do you need help getting down?”

They were going to be stubborn about this, he realized. Micah scowled and forced himself to say, “No. Thank you.”

He knew they were being nice—a few weeks ago they might have been his saviors—but he couldn’t help but feel annoyed right now. He could take care of himself. He didn’t need their help; their protection.

He climbed down anyway. What was he supposed to do? Refuse until they went away? That seemed impossible.

He held his knife and slingshot ready, just to show that he was armed. The [Archer] just frowned at his knife, though, and Micah mentally groaned at its condition.

“There’s a [Smith] on Well’s Street in Nistar,” he said slowly while the others glanced around, keeping an eye out for wolves, presumably. “He could fix that up for you for a steal. He has a weak spot for … beginners. Just tell him a Seb sent you.”

Micah blinked while his mind caught up with the meaning of what the man was saying.

Great, now they even thought he was a charity case! Somehow, Micah longed for his mindless mood from earlier. He just wanted to run away from here.

“Thank you,” he told the man. Seb. At least, he’d try to remember the name. And the woman was Abi? And the man …?

“I’m Micah, by the way,” he introduced himself and offered them his hand. The [Archer] shook it.

“Abi,” the woman said.

“Nadir,” the man offered and turned to his comrades. “You can head on to the cave and scout it out. I’ll just escort him to the portal.”

“Alright, then.”

“Bye, Micah,” they said and waved as they headed in different directions. “Thanks for the tips.”

He waved back, then glanced up at the man as they walked. Fortunately, he was quiet. And he looked confident as they walked, even though they spent so much time on the ground. Micah would have preferred continuing to use his own method, but having another person there was at least sort of reassuring. Probably.

“I’m a [Guardian],” the man said eventually, surprising him.

“Huh?”

“I’ll sense if any wolves come our way. Just need to keep an eye out for clones. They’re … tricky.”

Oh, he was trying to be reassuring.

“I can spot those,” Micah offered. “The difference, I mean.”

The man glance at him. “Are you a [Scout]?”

Micah shook his head. “[Alchemist]. I have a sort of magic sight. And a warrior Path, which is why I’m allowed in.”

“Huh, impressive,” he said. “So what are you doing here?”

Micah considered it.

“Collecting ingredients for cologne,” he said, trying to sound deliberately mysterious. He didn’t owe the man the whole truth anyway.

“Ah, the wolves’ crystals?” he asked with an understanding smile. “And probably the lemon stalks, too?”

Drat.

How had he known that? Micah still was a little bit iffy on how much other people knew. What was and what wasn’t common knowledge? The word “essence” apparently not, but the qualities of crystals were? How did that make sense? The qualities came directly from the essence!

Other people’s definition of things were infuriating at best. Someday, Micah might just write a dictionary to correct them all.

“Yeah…” he said.

“Even so, you really shouldn’t be tackling floors you can’t handle yet,” the man told him as they walked up to the portal.

Seeing the portal, Micah wondered if it was two-sided. It was in the middle of the forest, after all, between two trees. He itched to walk around and see for himself, but he couldn’t. That man was being “nice” right next to him.

“Especially on your own, and especially not for something as simple as cologne. It's just not worth the risk to rush it. Do you understand?”

Yes, Micah wanted to say out of reflex, but he felt a mischievous tug in his chest as he had a sudden idea. He recognized a chance at payback, both for the man’s earnest kindness and its more condescending tones.

“I didn’t,” he said as he shrugged off his bag. “Tackle floors I can’t handle yet, I mean.”

He reached inside and pulled out one of the fire crystals, then tossed it to Nadir.

“I was in the Salamander’s Den.”

The man caught the crystal with a surprised look on his face and frowned at Micah, a question clearly on his lips.

Before he could ask, Micah just winked at him and stepped into the glowing light.

On the other side, he immediately dropped his cheeky grin and ran all the way through the crowd to the side of the massive portal. There, he pushed his back against the surprisingly cool stone of the Tower and breathed. This was the first time Micah was actually touching the Tower, but he didn’t have time to focus on that. He peeked out and waited to see if Nadir would step out after him.

He didn’t.

Micah sighed in relief even as his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe he had just done that! It was so embarrassing and so stupid ... but also a little cool, and a whole lot of satisfying. He couldn’t help but grin.

On his way home, he switched clothes in an alleyway—again, people snickered as they walked by, but Micah didn’t care—and smuggled his bag up into his room as fast as he could. He would have loved to climb in through his window like Ryan did, but he didn’t know if any of his parents were sitting in the garden.

Thankfully, they didn’t ask too many questions at the dinner table. Just about how his grades were coming along.

“Better,” Micah told them honestly.

That night, he fell asleep after a few minutes.

He didn’t dream at all.