My heart leapt. A class augmentation? That…That would be amazing.

It was kind of like getting a new tag, in a way. The tag opened new doors for me in the guild, making me eligible for higher contracts and more hunting areas. It let me get marks on my own, instead of needing Avira’s approval as though she was my keeper. But the class…the class would open new abilities themselves, allowing me to access specialized tattoos that would definitely help keep me afloat. Which would be why Avira was proposing it, no doubt.

“You’re sure?” I said, glancing over to her. Class marks were expensive. It would be a big chunk taken out of my aura bar—and right when I was about to leave, no less. “This might not be the best time. Maybe-”

“You’ll have a good few months on the ship, eh?” Avira said, winking over at me as Nivarre picked up a needle. “You’d best work your hardest and train back what you lose while you travel. But you’ve got quite the stock saved up. I can’t imagine it’ll be too great a concern.”

“The guildmaster is right,” Bylas said. I looked over. He stood with one hand cupped around his chin, the other holding a needle pressed to my aura. Reading it, no doubt. And even with some chunks taken off the top for Radiant, His Gifts and the other abilities I’d penned for Deldynne, I had a big pool to draw from. He smiled faintly. “It’ll be an adjustment at first, but you’re in a good position for it. And you’re young, so the boost will pay back fast. Why don’t you take a look while I begin working on Lens of the Lost?”

I nodded slowly. Bylas jabbed the needle down, and the air around me glittered to life with new notifications. I felt his hand on my wrist, turning me to the right angle, but my eyes searched the text floating past my head.

Class Mark: Vineshaper (Heritage)

30 Points

Passive Ability: -10% to aura expenditure from Heritage abilities

Class Ability: Rootwalker

Vineshaper Mark: Rootwalker

The hunter melds with the living plants around them, allowing travel through their roots and branches. Additional aura usage will increase the range of potential travel.

Class Mark: Grove Warden (Heritage)

50 Points

Passive Ability: +10% to skin durability (Barkskin)

Class Ability: Godgrove

Grove Warden Mark: Godgrove (Seed)

A ten-foot radius around the hunter grows verdant, imbuing their allies with its energy. Aura regeneration increases by 20% for the next minute, and minor injuries are healed. Additional aura points invested will increase the duration of Godgrove.

Class Mark: Marauder

40 Points

Passive Ability: -10% to Weapon Encumberance

Class Ability: Lightning Hands

Marauder Mark: Lightning Hands (Wood)

Uses Per Day: 1

The hunter’s weapon rises to parry the next incoming attack, providing a counterattack. Additional aura points invested will increase the number of uses per day.

Class Mark: Bastion

50 Points

Passive Ability:

Class Ability: Center of Attention

Bastion Mark: Center of Attention (Wood)

The hunter radiates aura around them, inciting all hostile creatures within a 50-foot radius to attack them. Additional aura points invested will increase the strength of the effect.

Four classes. I swallowed, my eyes tightening as Bylas started to prick at my hand. That…wasn’t as many as I’d hoped for. The interface was automatic, calling up any classes that had enough resonance with my aura to be compatible. The first few were fainter, barely there, with the last two much more solid. I stared at the list, a lump in my throat.

Because I knew why the first two were so faint, compared to the latter pair. Vineshaper and Grove Warden. They were the two classes I could access through my bloodline—and that bloodline was starting to wear thin, so far as advanced skills were concerned. It was a bit surprising I even had enough of a treant aura to qualify for the two of them.

“Is something the matter?”

I looked up. Bylas had paused, his brow furrowed and concern in his eyes. I realized my smile had faded, leaving me staring blankly into the listed marks.

Bylas smiled faintly, still concerned. “It isn’t often someone looks so…sad, when they’re choosing a class augmentation. Contemplative, yes. Worried, yes.” He leaned back over my hand, starting to ink. “Not sad.”

“Oh, my little zephyr,” Avira murmured. Her fingers squeezed against mine. “Worry not. No matter how dark the night seems-”

“I-I’m just looking at the classes,” I stammered. Great. Now she was going to think I was upset over the mess with Myles and our trip. My voice quieted. “I just…don’t know what I should take.”

I stopped then, fully intending to let the topic die, but found Avira staring back over at me. “Go on, then,” she said. “I doubt you’d be heartbroken over some mild indecision, Trellin. What are you thinking?” She chuckled faintly, careful not to move as Nivarre worked on her hand. “I am your guide, after all. Allow me to guide you.”

I wrinkled my nose, eyeing the four class augmentations again. “Two of these are generic classes,” I said. “Marauder and Bastion. And two are heritage classes. Treant ones.” I waved a hand at the letters. “Vineshaper and Grove Warden.”

“Oh?” Bylas said. “I’m interested to hear you had-”

“I know,” I said, groaning. “That’s it, isn’t it? I’m not treant enough for this, really. Even if I can get the augmentation to stick, what happens next? I probably can’t qualify for another heritage class when I augment next. My treant aura wouldn’t be strong enough for the mark to take. I’d have to augment back into a standard progression path.”

I…think that’s a possibility, yes,” Bylas said, watching me from the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, my cheeks flushing. “I’m- It’s fine. It’s frustrating, but that’s…just what I am. Only, now I don’t know.” I nodded toward the four classes hovering in my vision. “Vineshaper…looks like a mender class. I’m not interested in that. Marauder is way too aggressive of a skillset.” I grinned over at Avira, nudging her with my knee. “That’s what Avira is for. I want something a little more grounded.”

“And that leaves Bastion or Grove Watcher,” Bylas said, nodding along. He was halfway up the back of my hand, drawing a pair of lines along its edges.

“Both have a solid defensive potential, lad,” Avira said, nuding me back—and giving me a knowing look. “You’d do well with either.”

“Y-Yeah,” I mumbled. “I think they’d both work. But…” I took a deep breath, licking my lips. “Should I even bother with Grove Warden? It’s not like I’m going to be able to go farther with that class line.”

Avira pursed her lips. “So go with Bastion, then. They’re not terribly dissimilar, lad.”

“...I guess.” They were, though. I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, wincing a bit as Bylas’s needle found its mark. Bastion and Grove Warden were both defensive, yes, and both were part of the overarching protector lineup, but Groven Warden factored in the treant family of abilities. I’d be able to get more utility out of it, and probably with some healing thrown in. That could be useful.

It…wasn’t even about that, though. Not if I was being honest. I’d hung off my mother’s knee ever since I was a child, drinking up the stories she told of a world that was totally different from Mersali. I’d begged her for every detail, but she only laughed, tweaking my nose, and refused to go on. Now, now, she’d teased, her face aglow. I can’t tell you everything, now can I? If I say too much, you’ll run away and hunt it down yourself, and what would I do without you here?

It’d fascinated me. And, it was something her and I shared—and all of it together meant that I just…wasn’t ready to give this up yet. The dreams. Even if they were a bit childish.

She must’ve seen the look on my face, because Avira’s hand tightened in mine again—earning her a tiny, disapproving noise from Nivarre. “Let the future choice remain in the future, Trellin,” Avira said gently. “You can face the next augmentation when it comes, aye?” Her foot tapped mine. “So what say you, now?”

I nodded slowly, still chewing over things. I might have to change my plans down the line. I couldn’t keep dreaming forever. But…there was no harm to come from taking what I could now. My cheeks warmed, a tiny smile dancing across my lips.

Grove Warden it was.

“50 points is a lot,” I said, though, waving the others aside to pull Grove Warden up larger. “I’m at 193 now, so…” Minus 10 for Lens of the Lost. That left me at 133—the lowest I’d been in ages. By a lot. I made a face. “It’d put me well below 150. I just- Maybe this isn’t a good idea, Avira. I should wait until I come back, so that I’m not too-”

“The point spend is intimidating, isn’t it?” Bylas said, chuckling. He shook his head, the leafy fronds of his hair rustling against his tunic. “But I really wouldn’t worry too much. A first-rank class augmentation increases your aura gain by a full 20%, on average. You’ll dip down for a while, but earn back that and more quicker than you’d think. So the sooner you have the mark inked, the better off you are in the long run.”

I made a face, glancing back to Avira. Bylas didn’t know where I was going. I recognized his points, they were all valid and fine, but none of that mattered. “I shouldn’t,” I said, my voice low. “I’ll just-”

“Trellin,” Avira said, chuckling under her breath. She shook her head. “Would I have brought the subject up if I didn’t think it an appropriate conversation to have? No.” She arched an eyebrow, even as Nivarre leaned over her again. “You have enough to suffice. Have some confidence in yourself.”

I nodded, licking my lips. My eyes went back to the notification. Godgrove, eh? The barkskin would be a nice added bonus, but this…I pursed my lips. It wasn’t as protector-oriented as I’d have expected, but it gave me increased aura regeneration, which could help as a fight dragged on—for me, and for my teammates. And, it healed minor wounds, which would be a good complement for Korinn’s healing. She wasn’t a true mender, so having something extra to slap on top wasn’t a bad idea.

I was still nodding, I realized—and I looked up, locking eyes with Bylas. “Grove Warden, please,” I said, sitting back. “If…If you could.”

He smiled down at me, giving a quick bob of his head. “Of course. I’m almost done with Lens of the Lost, and then I’ll start with that.

“Thanks,” I whispered. He was almost done, I saw, a new diamond etched outside the hunter’s mark on the back of my hand from the bonding band right to the base of my fingers. And now, he inked a series of horizontal slashes up my pointer finger, one after another in succession. Another few minutes, and he’d be right to the base of my fingernail.

And then he could start with the Grove Warden mark.

Letting myself sink back against the chair, my eyelids heavy, I swallowed a groan. Grove Warden, eh? The name was ironic, even I had to admit—and the next time I talked to Ryne, she was going to cackle at me.

That was a problem for the future. I let my smile grow, even if a twinge of uncertainty lingered about the path ahead.

Today, I was a Grove Warden.