In the two days since Team Nala's victory Mist had become increasingly cheerful and (it must be said) slightly more annoying. She insisted on helping Nala with her research, even going so far as to find a new library close to battle quarter, one that focused more on the sorts of things that were important to them; classes, battle reports, special attacks, weapons, monsters. She may also have had an ulterior motive involving a certain silver-haired hero who was often seen frequenting that particular library, but if Nala suspected anything she didn't let on. Besides, it was better than the one nearer the sprawl, and it was safer to walk the streets now—not only did they have their FeatherTokens for instant escape, but bullying had settled down after the frenzy of the first weeks. Many of the weaker new entrants had already reached their demerit limits and been expelled, and with less easy prey around the bullies turned to different merit-earning tasks, duels and monster hunts and dungeon crawls. The games were coming up too, of course, and many of Bright Battle's students wanted to stick around for the tournament. It wasn't a time to take risks, and you never knew when even a weedy-looking low-tier could get in a lucky critical hit.

And so, released from some of the pressure of simple survival, Nala turned her attention to study. Rules, that's what she now craved. The academy was built from rules, rules were important, rules were law.

Master the rules, and master Bright Battle.

Monsters!

It hadn't yet been announced, but small-and-serious newcomer Summer Rain had seemed certain that this year's test of worth would be a monster hunt. She'd even sent Nala a message about it, hand-delivered by a rather shifty elf scout, detailing the location of the hunt and the conditions for victory. Where Summer got her information she didn't choose to share, but Nala suspected that the presence of a ninja in her party might have something to do with it.

"GoldSpark Laboratory!" Mist read aloud, for the fourteenth time. "Do you really think Summer's right? Would she lie to us? No ... no, she seemed ... well, I don't think she'd lie to us, anyway. Because what would that help?"

Nala didn't reply, didn't so much as look up from the book she was studying—an extended treatise on the habits of larger monsters.

Mist sat back, reading through Summer's note again, kicking her feet a little. The green-blue-auraed wing-motifed plate armour she wore was bulky but light, allegedly enchanted to fit the wearer no matter their size, although in Mist's case the armour struggled to make itself small enough. Consequently she gave the impression of a turtle in too big a shell, like she could pull in her head and arms and disappear within.

Which is almost exactly what she did, suddenly and with a high squeak, shrinking into herself and almost falling off her chair.

Nala turned a page, then spoke:

"Talk to her."

"Oh no no no no no, what would I say? I couldn't say anything, not to her, do you know she's the only hero in the entire academy? I heard some people talking, they said it's not a good class! They said all heroes are good at is protecting people, but that ... that's good, right?"

Nala looked up from her book, staring across the library at the tall silver-haired girl browsing fiction.

"You said that there's a connection between valkyries and heroes."

"Oh! Oh, yes, definitely, valkyries and heroes are deeply connected in a very powerful way!"

"How?"

"I, um ... huh?"

"What is the connection? The classes don't seem to complement each other. Heroes have better defence and lower offence than an unpromoted fighter, as well as a lower critical multiplier but a higher critical chance. Their special skills are mostly of the protective variety, similar to paladins but without healing abilities. Valkyries have better defence than an unpromoted fighter but everything else is worse, aside from their critical multiplier—but their critical chance is very low. They also don't seem to have any special skills. Do you?"

"I, um, well ... I get a to-hit bonus with my spear..."

"Information on valkyries is scarce. No facts. No rules. It is not a popular class."

"I know," Mist said, deflating. "I really thought ... before I came here I mean, I thought there'd be others here, I really did ... why aren't there any valkyries?"

"Well, as I've previously mentioned, when chastity is a prerequisite..."

Nala and Mist looked up as Praetorian approached, Amanda trailing behind—she gave an awkward wave to Mist, who returned it with a smile.

"We're just on our way to the shops," Praetorian said, leaning over Nala to hmmph at the book she was reading. "I know you've forbidden me from purchasing a stave until you have your strategy in place but I thought, well, what's the harm in looking? Also I promised Amanda ice cream."

"No you didn't—I don't even want ice cream."

"Did I not? Do you not? It must have been myself then, I promised myself ice cream. In any case I picked up a titbit today, something rather interesting that I thought it possible you may have missed: traditionally the winners of the tournament are granted a boon by the masters of the academy."

Nala cocked her head to the side. "A 'boon'."

"Oh!" Mist said. "Oh, I heard about that too, it can be anything! A really powerful magic item or a high-level adventuring licence, even an introduction to super-important people!"

"Yes, exactly," Praetorian said. "Not that we have any chance of winning, but it can be jolly to think about these things—Mist, what would you ask for?"

"Me? Oh, well ... I mostly just want people to take valkyries seriously. And, um ... maybe to see if there are any out there, apart from me."

"Noble aspirations indeed," Praetorian said, before chuckling. "As for myself, well, I think everyone knows what I want. In fact I intend to take a stroll through Fauxgreen this very afternoon, just on the off-chance I might encounter an elf maiden of the lesser-spotted 'not psychotically murderous' variety. What of you, Amanda?"

"You know I have to come with you."

"No no no, what would you ask for, as a boon?"

Amanda stared at Praetorian. He laughed, a little awkwardly.

"I, er, I didn't mean to shock and stun you, it was an innocent question—there must be something you want."

Amanda's mouth was tight as she turned away. "I can't believe how awful you are."

"What? Oh honestly, WHAT did I do this time? I thought we'd been getting along rather well of late, tolerating each other adequately—"

"You, you just—I'll be on the other side of those shelves."

Amanda stomped off, as much as she could with her limbs stiff and uncooperative.

"Praetorian!" Mist admonished. "I thought you were being good now! Go and apologise!"

"For what, asking her what she wants? I shall never understand the female mind, never in all my days. Appreciate it, yes, but understand? Never." Praetorian blew out a breath. "I still haven't convinced her to let me heal her wounds—the puncture marks from our mutual friend Slythaneile's ScatterShot, as well as those previously suffered. I tell her and tell her that it's nothing sordid but she just doesn't appreciate my professionalism. It's already beginning to affect her binding, you may have noticed a fresh stiffness to her movements, the faintest whiff of decay—Mist, you seem to have some sort of connection with the girl, do you think you could speak to her? This really is important, if left untreated there's a risk she'll turn hollow."

Mist's eyes were wide behind her square glasses. "Hollow?"

"Mm. Her spirit is bound to her body by the magic that raised her, but if her body is damaged overmuch, if she suffers a powerful trauma, if the binding is allowed to deteriorate, well ... there is the possibility that she could lose herself."

"Oh my goodness—yes, I'll talk to her, what should I say?"

"I have no idea, just try to convince her that allowing me to treat her wounds and refirm her binding is of the utmost importance."

"Okay. Okay! Count on me!" Mist gave an anxious salute then clanked off around the shelves in pursuit of Amanda. Praetorian smiled after her.

"You know, despite myself I've become slightly fond of that girl. Irritating at times, painfully earnest, rather mousy and unattractive, but still. Not an unpleasant companion."

Nala said nothing, was once more absorbed in her reading. Praetorian glanced at her.

"Speaking of companions," he said, "where is young Tzugakk? I say 'young', I still have no idea how old he is—how does one judge, with a goblin?"

"He is in our room, crafting to earn merits. Until he has enough to cancel his demerits we will take no chances."

"Hm. Seems sensible. One more and he'd be out, back to wherever it is goblins come from, some manner of forest one assumes. How did you two meet, anyway? I haven't heard that story from you, have I?"

"Yes."

"I do beg your pardon?"

"Yes, you haven't."

"Ah. Ah, well then, message received and understood—it just seems such an unusual combination, a casteless city dwarf and a goblin ... goblin, I suppose. StenchMerchant. Who would have thought him capable of such things? That flask, that poison, though it took him several turns to prepare its effectiveness cannot be questioned—I suppose you'll be basing our next strategy around that, also?"

"Yes."

"I don't suppose he's got any other tricks up those baggy sleeves of his?"

"He does."

"And I also suppose you don't consider it necessary for me to know about them—you could share a little more, 'captain'. It wouldn't hurt for us to be in on your plans."

"Explaining takes time and changes nothing. You don't need to know what my tactics are. Just your role. Just your actions."

"Hm. Well. I can't say you haven't earned a little respect but I'd still feel more comfortable being in the loop, as it were." Praetorian glanced around. "Do you think it would be amiss of me to pop my head around the corner, check on progress, as it were?"

Nala looked at Praetorian, then went back to her book.

"Yes," Praetorian said. "Yes, you're probably right. Better to just wait it out. What are you reading there, anyway? Learning a little about monsters?"

"Yes."

"Hm."

Praetorian perched himself on the edge of the table, picked up a random book, read a page without absorbing any of it, then put it down with a sigh.

"Dear goodness girls can talk, can't they? It's been, what, at least three minutes, how long does it take to convince a stubborn zombie that it needs my skills? What can they be discussing?"

Behind the shelves, Amanda had her back to Mist, arms crossed.

"It's not that," she was saying. "I don't care what else happens, I just don't want him looking at me—touching me, ugh."

"But he really does just want to help, it's not, um, you know, a funny thing, he doesn't even think you're pretty or anything—um! Um, Amanda, I didn't mean that like it sounded, I think you're very pretty—"

"I know what I look like, Mist. I look dead. Anyone who finds that attractive is automatically a creepy pervert." Amanda glanced back at Mist. "You're not a creepy pervert. Are you?"

"Um, no! Of course not!"

"So don't call me pretty, because I know it's a lie."

"But it's really not ... well ... anyway, Praetorian said that if he doesn't fix you then you could become 'hollow'! You could lose yourself!"

"I already lost myself," Amanda muttered.

"Pardon?"

"I can't remember anything. From ... before. It's like I've always been dead. That I'm just dead. Nothing else. But I'm still here, right? That's weird, isn't it? Walking around and talking and thinking even though I'm dead. Maybe that's my problem, that I'm only halfway there. Maybe this is what's supposed to happen and it'd be better if I did go hollow—"

"Amanda, no! Don't say that! I, I like you! I think you're funny and nice and, and you ARE pretty, I don't care if it makes me a creepy pervert to say that, your face is nice and your neck is so slender and lovely, and your, your cheekbones are amazing! I wish I had cheekbones like that, my face is just all round and stupid—"

"No, you're cute."

"And you—oh, thank you—you're tall and you make those bandages work and when you cross your arms and look down like you do it looks cool, I always think 'oh Amanda is so cool!' when I see you standing like that so please don't say you want to lose yourself! Because, because the person you're talking about losing is my friend!"

Amanda turned her head a little, her expression flat, her eyes dull. Mist flinched.

"Um, sorry," she said. "I probably said too much, or the wrong thing—"

"No, keep going."

"Oh! Um ... oh, and we couldn't have won that match without you, I didn't even do anything, I just stood there as, um, 'bait' but you went out into that chamber and got gassed and arrowed and you didn't even complain!"

"I did actually complain, quite a lot."

"But, but, um, but you still did it! And because of that we won, we won because of you! But you also got hurt, I mean your body got damaged, or however a good way to say it would be, so you have to let Praetorian heal you, or fix you or however you want to think about it except just do it, please."

Amanda took in a conscious breath, then let it out in a long, rattling sigh.

"I just wish it wasn't him," she said. "Don't you think he's disgusting?"

"Well ... um ... maybe a little ... when he talks about elf girls..."

"Right? RIGHT? He can't shut up about them and their stupid pointy ears, I actually think he's making me a little bit racist because every time I see an elf girl now I get all, ugh, just ugh, you know?"

"But, um ... he is the only necromancer here ... I mean without him you wouldn't even be able to talk ... right?"

"That just makes it so much worse, that I need him—"

Amanda stopped herself and shook her head.

"I shouldn't talk about it, it doesn't help. Nothing helps. He definitely doesn't."

"Um, I think he just ... I don't think he means to be, um, horrible. He just ... says horrible things sometimes."

Amanda blew out another rattly frustrated breath.

"Why am I even here," she muttered. "Why this awful place, where there's just one stupid necromancer, did I even have a reason?"

"Um ... to get an adventuring licence? That's why most people come here. Well, for me it was different though ... I mostly just wanted to meet other valkyries ... and maybe some heroes ... even though that didn't really work out..."

"There's that hero here, though. Clare."

Mist stared at Amanda.

"You know her name?"

"Yes?"

"HOW?"

"I ... asked?"

"YOU TALKED TO HER?"

"Again, yes?"

"But ... but ... HOW?"

"It was weird, I opened my mouth and words just came out."

"When? When when when and WHERE?"

"Um, here? In this library? Where she actually is right now, as I'm pretty sure you know?"

"But ... you just talked to her?"

"You know Darkcede, he'll talk to anyone about anything, as long as 'anything' includes 'are there any elf heroes and do you know any of them and could you introduce me?', then of course I was there too so it seemed rude not to say hello."

"I can't believe you just talked to her."

"She's just a girl, Mist. Kind of dull actually."

"No! No she can't be! Heroes are amazing, they're the best! They can't be dull!"

"Well ... she is. Sorry. Uh, do you think we should go back to the others? Darkcede's probably annoying Nala."

Darkcede WAS annoying Nala.

"—so that didn't turn out as I might have liked, so again I come back to Lorna, the elusive scout who seems to have a thing for necromancers. If only I could find her again, but it seems she's ever beyond my—ah, you two. Well? Ready to have those imperfections seen to?"

Amanda's jaw actually dropped.

"Here?"

"Of course not here—why would you think that, why would you think I would suggest doing it here, you honestly do not give me so much as a shred of credit—"

Praetorian cut himself off, hands held out, then he forced a smile at Amanda.

"Shall we leave?" he asked. "If you are ready to have your wounds seen to—"

"Fine. Fine! I'm so sick of you pestering me about it, I'll do it just to shut you up, let's just get it over with, do you need anything?"

"Nothing I don't have back at the cottage, really this is a good thing Amanda, I'm so pleased you've come around—and Mist, thank you, whatever you said must have done the job."

"I, um, I just ... I'm always happy to help!"

"And help you have! Fare well for now, sweet valkyrie, and may you find the hero of your dreams. Nala, good luck with your research."

"Mm."

Mist waved to Amanda, who smiled weakly back, then she watched her team mates as they left the library.

"I don't think he is horrible, actually," Mist said, sitting down opposite Nala. "I think he cares about her, because if he didn't he wouldn't be so happy that she's letting him fix her. Right?"

"Mm."

Mist let out a sigh, sitting and stretching forward over the table before laying her cheek against the cool of the wood. Purely by chance this gave her a perfect view of the hero—Clare. She was sitting alone, reading.

"That must be nice," she murmured. "Even though they both complain ... it must be nice."

"Oh."

Mist jerked up—"What is it? Do you want me to do something? I can do something if you need something done, I'm good at doing things!"

"Summer's team have a match this afternoon—"

"Oh! Can I go? Do you need me to go I mean? I've never been to a match, actually I didn't know where the arena was until we went there and I didn't realise you could go and listen to matches, it's a safe zone, right? Can I go? Do you need me to go? I'll go, if you want me to. Even if you don't—should I go now? I'll go right now, then I should come back and report to you, right? Okay. Okay, Nala, I can do this! I won't let you down, this will be the BEST report you've ever heard!"