Shadows swirled around Faye’s immobile form. Something crawled along her neck.

The shadows brightened, and a figure appeared out of the darkness ahead of her. Despite not being able to move, she tried to reach out.

There was something familiar about the figure.

But, as it stepped closer, Faye’s eyes widened.

She did know that figure.

She started struggling. The heavy weight of the shadows pressed down on her. Each step the figure took, the more Faye thrashed.

No… she moaned.

No, no, not you.

No matter what she did, the figure came closer and closer. Each step took an eternity of struggle, but it felt like the figure came closer with every rapid-fire heartbeat that drummed in Faye’s heavy chest.

The shadows along the face sharpened into facial features that were unmistakable.

A sound like air rushing past someone’s lips as they pursed for an f sound emanated from the darkness around his mouth.

Him. No. Never again. I swore.

“Faye!”

Faye scrambled upright in a tangle of limbs and blankets.

The front door had just closed and brought with it a frigid draught that chilled her to the bone immediately.

“Sorry about that.”

Arran was stomping his boots against the floor near the door.

Faye swallowed thickly and pressed her hand against her head.

Can’t believe the nightmares have come back. It’s been years.

“It fell overnight, a handspan deep,” Arran said.

Faye looked over, wide awake but somehow still trapped in that darkened mess of a dream. There was snow around his boots.

Nodding absently, Faye got to her feet and wrapped her blanket firmly around herself.

“I’ll get the fire going, you can get something to eat for us all, seeing as you took it upon yourself to wake me up,” she said. There was no point trying to get back to sleep, now.

Arran grinned at her. “The least I can do, I agree.”

Faye crouched and got to work bringing the fire up from the low embers it had reduced to whilst she was sleeping.

Fighting off a big yawn, she stayed hovering over the burgeoning flames whilst they caught the larger log properly. The other two came down from their rooms in short order.

They ate some prepared food that the adventurers kept in their larder for times when they didn’t want to cook. The roadcakes were a type of travelling food that could be softened and warmed with hot water. It created a kind of porridge-like breakfast meal.

Perfect for colder weather.

After they had eaten, Arran made them all stay at the table.

“I have something for Faye, something that the whole team contributed toward.”

“We did?” Ailith asked, she grinned when Arran glared at her.

He produced a long, thin item covered in rough sack cloth. It was tied at the ends with twine. He laid it on the table in front of Faye.

She put her hands on it. She had a feeling she knew what it could be.

“But…”

“Just open it,” he interrupted.

The sack cloth fell away to reveal an oiled wooden sword. It was crafted from a dark red wood, the grain was long and straight down the length of the blade, and Faye immediately recognised that the cross guard and pommel had been modelled, somewhat accurately, off the sword that the Guild had confiscated from her.

She smiled; it was a nice gesture. She ran her fingers across the smooth finish of the wood. To her surprise, though it was clearly unvarnished, the oil that the crafter had used on the wood gave it a smooth finish.

Gently picking it up, she turned it in her hands. The edge was surprisingly keen.

“They put an edge on a wooden blade?” she murmured, half to herself.

“Aye, I asked her to.”

Faye’s head snapped up to look at Arran in shock, “Why? Or more importantly, how?”

“You need something to train with. Something better than that broom handle. I didn’t think you’d have broken our broom just to get some practise in… it looks like I had the right idea, getting this commissioned. And, using a woodsmith obviously.”

“It looks like it took weeks to make. A woodsmith?”

“Only a few days. It is just a training sword. Yes, a smith that uses wood.”

“Smiths work with metals. Carpenters work with wood.”

“Carpenters create buildings, or wardrobes. A woodsmith dedicates themselves to wooden weapons.”

Faye looked at his face. He looked sincere.

“Are you pulling my leg?” she asked.

Arran blinked. “Uh, no, why would I be touching your leg?”

“It’s an expression,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, are you joking? About the woodsmith?”

“You haven’t heard of woodsmiths before?”

“Wood doesn’t hold an edge! It’s too soft, or not built that way, or something… I’m fairly sure.”

Arran shrugged, looking at the others, “Sure, ordinary wood would lose its edge immediately, if you managed to give it one at all. This isn’t ordinary wood, nor was it made by an ordinary carpenter.”

She held up a hand in defeat. She wouldn’t argue anymore. They could circle around the topic for ages without either of them really saying what the other needed to fully understand. It happened more often, the more they talked about things that were different between the worlds.

“No training sword looked this good back home,” she said, instead. “I love it. Thank you, all of you.”

Gavan and Ailith nodded but didn’t say anything. Arran caught their look and shrugged. Faye immediately jumped in.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Ailith said, shaking her head. “There’s nothing wrong. We’re just… flirting with the edges of what we’re allowed to do with this.”

Arran butted in, before the conversation could go further.

“Training swords don’t go in scabbards,” he said, holding out a leather loop that would attach to a belt. “Use this, it’s basically just a loop, but the leather workers make them for the kids… er.”

Faye glared at him, for a moment, but then snatched the loop of leather. “Ugh, of course it’s a kid’s sword. Never mind, just shut up and don’t mention it again. Wait, why is this one allowed and my real one wasn't?"

Ailith grinned and was about to say something when Arran spoke again, loudly overriding her.

“You should find that the guards can’t object to this around town, now. It's basically tradition to give anyone that is training for a combat role. But don’t attack anyone with it.” He shrugged. "It's just the rules. Wood for training, metal for war."

"Seems silly," she said. "But, as long as I can carry on practising."

Something inside still hurt at not being able to keep her personal sword.

"Remember, no attacking people!"

Faye considered slapping Arran with the flat edge of the blade. She had to shake her head though and simply ignored his comment. She supposed that the first thing she’d done when she’d arrived hadn’t really engendered her to the idea of peaceful walks through the town.

She still blamed that kid, Rían.

“I’m heading out,” she announced. “I need some fresh air.”

The echoes of the nightmare lingered, and she needed to clear her head.

The town had that surreal sense of quiet that pervaded when snow has fallen, everything was muted or muffled like a blanket had been draped over the town walls. But the snowfall had already ceased, sometime in the night. The air was crisp, clear and the clouds on the horizon threatened more snow later that day.

Moving quickly to keep from catching a chill, Faye crunched through the streets and moved toward the market square. There were no other people walking the streets, though she did catch the loud laughter and cries of a group of children as they played in the snow.

It had been years since the last true snowfall back home, a decade or so. The snow blanketing the ground sent her memories spiralling back to childhood and the days and nights playing in the fields with her cousins.

She shook her head, surreptitiously wiping at her eye.

She had no idea if she’d see her family or friends again. It was somewhat easy to forget that when there were other things to think and talk about, or training to do. But the idea that she’d be stuck inside the town walls for years without access to levelling…

She gritted her teeth.

That could not happen. She’d go mad.

Shrugging her shoulders to get the blanket-turned-cloak to sit better, she carried on.

An hour or so later, Faye had made her way back through the snowy streets and to the adventurer’s household. She could see smoke rising from the chimney, the smell still acrid and strong to her unused-to-it nose, but she noted that not many neighbouring houses were burning anything.

Were there really that few neighbours, or were some of the families without fuel for heating?

Inside the adventurer’s house, she shed her cloak and wet boots and accepted the hot cup of drinking broth that Ailith handed her.

“Get some of that inside you, it’ll warm you straight up. Enjoy your traipse about town?”

Sipping the hot broth, Faye just shrugged.

“Look, the rules are there for a reason. It might not seem like it to you, Faye, but honestly there are good reasons for them.”

“I’m sure that someone thinks they had very good reasons for making the rules,” Faye said. She’d sat down on the floor in front of the hearth, basking in the warmth for a moment. “But at home, there were cases where rules were followed or made that were just for the sake of following rules. Like an office that had banned plasters because the health and safety rules said that plasters might cause an allergic reaction — and when someone was cut, they didn’t have a bandage for it.”

Ailith frowned. “I’m not sure I’m following exactly.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Faye said, smiling. “I’m just complaining.”

The door to the courtyard opened, and Gavan stepped inside. He blew on his hands as he shut the door with his foot.

“Can’t focus,” he muttered. “Cold.”

“You should train in something physical, Gavan,” Ailith said. “I keep telling you, but the more that you stand around doing nothing, the colder you’ll feel.”

“I’m not doing nothing,” he said, “you bloody barbarian.”

Ailith wasn’t looking at Gavan, so only Faye could see the smirk on her face as the big guardian teased the skinny mage.

“Well, it looks like you’re doing nothing, and let me tell you, you don’t want to stand around in the cold too much. You know, they say that standing in the cold like that makes it shrivel up…”

Gavan just shook his head and stomped his way up to his bedroom, muttering something under his breath. Faye would have bet good money on it being “barbarian”.

Ailith waited until the bedroom door slammed shut to let out the quiet chuckle she’d been holding in. Faye smiled but said that it was a little mean.

“Eh,” Ailith shrugged, “he knows I only tease.” She dropped the smile for a moment, “But I’m not wrong about the physical training, he is more fragile than the rest of us.”

“Hmm,” Faye hummed, noncommittally.

“Well, except for you,” Ailith added. “For now.”

Eyeing her fireside companion, Faye wondered if she would get any more hints about growth and levelling, but it seemed that the woman was done speaking.

“Well, daylight’s burning,” Faye said, standing. “I’m going to use the courtyard. Join me?”

“Of course, I have to take my own advice every once in a while!”

Thirty minutes later, the pair of them were breathing hard, watching as plumes of condensed breath erupted with each heave of their chests. They had pushed themselves in a fitness test. Faye was naturally competitive, but it seemed that Ailith was just as stubborn and had the supernatural help of the system.

“Now that you’re warmed up, you should really try hard…” Ailith panted out, “actually work up a bit of a sweat, you know?”

Faye tried to push her over, but it didn’t work, and Faye ended up toppling over herself.

“Come on, girl, show me something interesting. You haven’t swung your new sword around yet, have you?”

She rolled up to her feet, her lungs burning in the cold, crisp air. She looked up at Ailith, towering over her. The shit eating grin told Faye all she needed to know about how serious the other woman was. She hardly wanted to admit how effective the goading was, it would never stop if she did admit to it, but there was something else too.

They had taken her sword.

Ailith must have noticed something on her face, because she pushed Faye’s shoulder, softly.

“It’s okay. You’re doing well. We don’t have to push—”

She gripped the wrapped hilt, it was a thin, winding layer of brown leather that provided a good textured surface.

Drawing the training sword in a smooth motion, Faye executed a small flourish before dropping into a close right guard. Two hands on the sword hilt, by her right hip, and her right leg extending down in almost the same line as the blade. The tip of the sword hovered in space by Faye’s eye line, her torso turned to present a smaller target to her imagined opponent.

Ailith grinned and stepped back.

Faye stepped into the space Ailith had opened, left foot darting forward and the tip of the sword leading the way. The big guardian’s grin didn’t change, but she stepped off to Faye’s right. Faye switched to a close left guard, her sword covering her now open left side as her right shoulder took the lead.

The grin almost disappeared and was replaced by a serious expression. Ailith took a short step forward, Faye replied with a light thrust of the sword tip but the moment it moved for the big woman, Ailith had stepped back and retreated to open the space between them again.

They turned this, too, into another competition.

Each step Ailith made, Faye would counter. It wasn’t about making a strike. It wasn’t about winning. It was about footwork, learning the distance between yourself and your opponent, the length of your guard, the reach of your blade.

Only with training would these things be ingrained in the body’s memory so that it becomes more than thought, more than mechanical rote reactions… to become a core part of your instincts.

Faye realised that her body had been changing. Slowly, surely. Every day spent here in this world was changing her in a way that seemed to lead somewhere totally new and alien to her.

She would need to work on these instincts, because unlike at home, where it had been her pride that could be bruised or a trophy that was lost, here it was her body that would be bruised, her life that could be lost.

It’s not until, sometime later, the pair were interrupted by Gavan and Arran that they realised they needed to rest. Faye’s arms were tender, and her hands shook a little from the exertion.

“A random passerby stopped to watch you,” Arran remarked. He gestured to the open shutters in the courtyard walls. They weren’t filled with glass and looked out onto the main street that the house was situated on. “I suspect the Guild are keeping tabs on us. Or perhaps the Guard.”

“So?” Faye asked, drinking deeply from the water they had stashed nearby. “What are they going to do, stop me from working out?”

“I wasn’t teaching her anything,” Ailith said, grinning and stretching her arms out.

Faye was more than a little impressed with the muscle the woman had on her arms and shoulders, she was built with lean, hard-used muscle — all flat panels of muscle that you couldn’t get from working out with weights. It showed that Ailith had earned it the hard way.

Blinking and coming back to the present, Faye realised that they were still debating a little over whether she’d been breaking the rules.

“In the end, the Guild will tell me if I did or not. Let’s not worry about it until then? Now then, Gavan, let’s see how well you do.”

The others laughed and pushed the mage forward, insisting that he try the same exercise. From the look on their faces, they had been wanting to get him to do something with them for a while and were more than happy to oblige Faye’s request.

She took a deep breath and took a guard again.

The Administrator looked down at the report she held, and the note pinned to the top of the page.

I told you they would do this - E

She shook her head. It was just like Eanraigh to throw a told you so her way. He was able to wash his hands of the day to day running of the guild.

Which made the times he stepped in and watch more annoying.

Someone knocked at her office door, precisely twice, before the door opened.

“Administrator,” the man said.

She had to stop herself from scowling and throwing him out. Unfortunately, this one was protected by politics.

“Yes, Administrative Assistant Iain?”

Iain didn’t even have the good grace, or acuity, to realise what he had done wrong.

“Administrator, I have received reports that the team led by Arran are breaking their word and are training the girl.”

The Administrator let one eyebrow raise as she regarded the man in front of her. She had always assumed that if she ran a tight Hall, the politics would pass her by. Unfortunately, administration seemed to attract those that revelled in them.

“Is that so?” she said.

I will have to root out his informants.

“Yes, Administrator. I thought you must be made aware, immediately. Of course, we are to punish them. I wish to be the one to administer further punishment… only to save you the trouble of leaving the Hall, of course.”

She tried not to grind her teeth.

Accessing her Memory of Arran and the others, she mentally compared their records to that of the somewhat competent administrator standing before her.

[Analyse], she thought.

~ Status ~

[Name:] Iain Cliach

[Class:] Lower Administrator

[Level:] 16

[Aspect:] n/a

~ Attributes ~

[Toughness:] 13

[Strength:] 10

[Reaction:] 12

[Agility:] 10

[Logic:] 33

[Intuition:] 19

[Willpower:] 21

[Charisma:] 11

[Magic:] 1

She tried not to sneer at his class. Iain had gone to great lengths to hide his inferior class from her when he had first applied for his role. Unfortunately, with his backer she had been forced to ignore it.

He didn’t hold a torch to Arran, obviously.

But Faye?

“Granted, Administrative Assistant Iain. Thank you for taking on this burden for me.”

Iain’s wide grin made the Administrator a little sick to her stomach, but she dismissed him with a wave.

He might be of some use, after all.