Common Clay

Clay had just finished patching the last hole in the roof when a knock sounded at his door.

He frowned at it for a moment and then hopped down from the chair. The farmhouse was down to three leaks this time, and most of them were patchable at least. No more hoping the bowls wouldn’t overflow while he was out working or hunting. At least, that’s what he hoped for in the future.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to find Olivia waiting on the other side. She was wearing a heavy cloak, but it was nearly soaked through; her novice robes underneath looked a little splattered by mud as well.

He blinked at her a moment and then smiled. “Welcome, traveler. What brings you here today?”

Olivia’s lips fought a smile at his use of her formal greeting. “You hadn’t visited in a while, so I decided to visit you. Or at least see if you had gotten yourself killed.”

Clay backed away and gestured for her to come in. He took her cloak and hung it near the fire, and Olivia sighed with gratitude as she sat on the chair. When he glanced back at her, he winced. The mud was worse than he’d thought, and guilt flogged him a little. “Sorry I made you come all this way. I just hadn’t thought I was worrying you, at least, not since the last time we talked.”

“The last time we talked, you were covered in bruises and the spiders had laid a trap to try and kill you.” She arched an eyebrow at him, sitting very straight in her chair. “Screams or no screams, I would be…interested to hear how you are doing.”

Wincing at her tone, Clay ran a hand back through his hair. “Yeah, I understand. I’ll try to be better in the future. I’ve just been trying to finish what I can before the next swarm.”

Olivia nodded. “And you have something close to two weeks left. I understand too.” Then, shockingly, she smiled a little. “It doesn’t make me less worried, but I understand. I hope I’m not interrupting?”

“No! Not at all.” He stood up and grinned. “Actually, I’ve got a lot to tell you about.”

“I have news to share as well.” She paused. “Perhaps you should go first. Have you managed to get those [Chants] to work?”

His smile grew wider. “Oh yeah. I definitely did.”

Clay explained everything he’d learned and done with the [Chants] since the last time he’d seen her. Olivia listened with intense eyes, and when he finished, she drew in a quiet breath. “I see. I had not anticipated this…reversibility…to be part of the [Chants]. The ability to discover in this way suggests a few interesting aspects in how they can be combined and used…”

She trailed off for a moment and then shook her head. “More importantly, it seems the more combat oriented [Chants] require [Memory] to be above twenty. That will be…challenging for me to achieve.”

He blinked. “What do you…oh. You mean if you are a [Commoner] too?”

“Indeed.” Olivia looked down at her hands. “I am not as well supplied with [Might] and [Fortitude] as you are. Killing one of these spiders may be very challenging for me, and without more advanced [Chants]…”

Then her jaw clenched, and she looked up. “I suppose you’ll just have to help me. At least until I level enough.”

Clay grinned again. “Yeah, I guess I will.” Then he leaned back on his bedroll and stretched. “For now, though, the [Chants] you’ve already given me are doing half of the work for me now. I think I might even be able to clear a path to the Lair itself next week.”

“Then you’ll be glad for my news.” He looked up, and Olivia smiled. She took a piece of parchment from one of her pockets. “I located another new [Chant]. This one is apparently less common among most adventurers, but it was indicated as being rather valuable for suppressing a Lair and its Curse. It is called the Orison of Soul. Do you think you can use it?”

He took the parchment and ran his eyes over the syllables. They didn’t seem to have nearly as many syllables as the Ballad of Air or the Flame-Tongued Song. “I think… I should be able to handle it. Do you know what it does?”

“The text implied it was used to find the truth of things, especially ‘that which lieth unknown in the hearts of men’. More details were lost.” She shrugged. “The book had taken damage in a fire of some kind.”

“Okay.” He debated the risk of using it, but it didn’t sound as if it was dangerous. “I’ll give it a try, then. Do you mind?”

Olivia shook her head, and he started to read through the incantation. The words of the [Chant] twisted through his mind, as usual, but he forged on ahead, regardless. It couldn’t be worse than what he’d already done, and he’d been able to use those [Chants] in the middle of combat.

It took him three tries, but then the power of the [Chant] sunk deep in him, and he felt the world brighten for a moment. He looked up and paused as the [Gift] displayed its ethereal text over his sight, hovering over Olivia’s shoulder.

[Olivia Newfeld Shrinekept]

[Class: Youth] {Level 0} (All Stats have a maximum of 12)

[Subclass: None]

[Stats] {Might: 8} {Fortitude: 9} {Insight: 12} {Memory: 12} {Valor: 9} {Will: 12}

[Monsters Slain: 0]

He blinked. The text remained displayed, right next to where she was sitting.

Olivia frowned at him. “What is it? Did you succeed?”

“Yeah.” He frowned. “I think… it is displaying your [Gift]. Your last name is Shrinekept?”

She blinked. “I received the name when I was taken in by the Rector. My true last name is—”

“Newfeld?”

Olivia stopped and nodded. “I see. This must be a tool that an adventurer could use to assess a monster or an enemy for weaknesses. Can you see my [Stats]?” When Clay nodded, she continued in an even voice. “Having that kind of information would be rather valuable as well when adventurers meet. They could tell who was bluffing and who was not.”

Clay felt a sudden chill. “Which means if one of the adventurers that is coming has this [Chant], they might be able to see that I’m a [Commoner] with levels. They could find me out.”

“From what the text says, it is considered hostile to use the Orison immediately against an ally. They may not even know it, depending on how widespread the [Chant] is.” She smiled. “You forget, most adventurers depend on [Charms] or [Sigils] for their magic. [Chants] are considered inferior in many ways.”

He relaxed a little. “Well, at least we have that to help us.” Then he gave her a look. “As long as you don’t tell them immediately, I guess.”

She leaned back in the chair and folded her arms. “My hope is that you will feel ready to reveal your accomplishments on your own. I suppose we will see next week.”

Clay sat bolt upright. “Next week? What do you mean?”

Olivia frowned, and then her eyebrows rose. “That’s right. You haven’t been in town, and I suppose Herbert has been busy patrolling. The adventurer team should be here within a few days. Apparently, they sent a rider ahead of them so that the baron would know when to expect them. I believe they should be here in three days, five at the most.”

A feeling of dread settled over him like a heavy blanket. “Great. Just…great.” He tried not to notice the impatient look that she gave him and turned away for a moment in thought.

Three days. He had three days before everything got far more complicated.

It rained for another two days, a fact that nearly drove him insane from the delay. Several times Clay was tempted to go out in the weather anyway, just to do his best to clear out the remaining sentries around the Lair. He needed four more kills to reach ten elder mantraps, and he doubted he was going to have a chance once a band of adventurers were patrolling the woods.

During that time, he spent hours trying to pick weeds out of his fields and patch holes in his roof. The second day, he even traveled down to the village and bought a second chair for himself. It was more of an excuse to check and make sure that the adventurers hadn’t arrived yet, but apparently they hadn’t underestimated the time it would take to reach Pellsglade. He only hoped the rain would delay them as much as it was him.

On the day the rain finally cleared, he immediately went out hunting. He abandoned his more cautious approach from before; he killed two mantraps on the same day, ambushing them on opposite sides of the field. Their wet webs did not light easily, but he still burned them out of their fortresses to kill them.

Clay did the same thing on the next day, desperate to finish things. He killed the first mantrap early enough in the morning that the light of sunrise was still filtering across the sky. The second mantrap died before his midday meal, and a welcome notification appeared for him.

{Achievement Reinforced! Spiderbane: 30% increase to all skills and damage against spiders. Bonus increases to 60% versus Mantrap Spiderlings, Troll Spiderlings, Mature Mantrap Spiders, Mature Troll Spiders, Elder Troll Spiders, and Elder Mantrap Spiders.}

He then made for home, leaving an agitated mass of spiders to crawl through the valley searching for him. Ridiculous as it was, he half expected to meet a party of adventurers going the other way as he walked up Scout’s Hill, their arms and armor shining with magic and power. When that didn’t happen, he breathed a sigh of deep relief.

Then there was a knock at his door that night. He opened it to find Herbert waiting.

The [Guard] looked at him with a serious expression. “They’re here.”

Herbert sat in his chair by the fire and drank the cup Clay had set out for him. He set it down and waited for Clay to sit as well. It was almost physically difficult to do; every part of him wanted to get up and run down to the village to see what he was dealing with.

Of course, that would be the worst possible thing to do. So instead, he sat and locked eyes with Herbert. “So. How bad is it?”

Herbert snorted. “You are the only person who isn’t going to be happy they are here, you know that, right? Everyone else has been scared spitless by those screams, and they are looking forward to seeing the spiders taken care of by professionals.”

“Everyone else doesn’t know that a flood of spiderlings is going to happen in less than two weeks. Everyone else doesn’t have to worry about getting accused as a Rogue.”

“And who’s to blame for that, lad?” Herbert held up a hand as Clay started to respond. “Don’t. Never you mind, that’s water under the bridge now. Best to focus on the matter at hand.”

Clay leaned forward, his arms folded on the table in front of him. “And that is?”

“They sent seven adventurers.” Herbert paused. “Most of them, you know.”

“I know them?” Clay blinked, and then his jaw dropped. “No. You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.” Herbert shook his head. “Charles, Enessa, Maribel, the twins, all of them.”

Clay leaned back slowly in his chair. He hadn’t expected anything like this.

The [Guard] continued in a casual voice. “I’d bet the only reason they aren’t up here yet is because the baron bundled the lot of them off to his manor for the night. If I were you, I’d be looking for visitors tomorrow, though, and early at that.”

Still numb, Clay nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sure.” How would they have changed? Would they see the changes in him? Then the rest of the information caught up with him. “Wait. Who are the other two?”

“One of them is some pompous [Noble] that’s along for the ride. The second son of some duke near the capital, from what I hear. Already disappointed with the village in general, and complaining about being sent here.” Herbert shrugged, and then his tone grew more serious. “The other one is an older adventurer. Gave the impression he was riding herd on the new additions to the Guild.”

Then he paused. “At the same time, he had some papers to talk with the baron about. Very privately. It looked like it had some royal seals on it. Almost like an arrest warrant of some kind.”

Clay clenched his teeth. “So the others are here for the monsters, but he’s here to find me.”

“Looks that way, yeah.” Herbert sighed and shook his head. “I tried to warn you, right? So, what are you going to do?”

He clenched his hands. “I’ll stay out of their way. No other choice, really. I trust Charles and the rest, but if their leader is after me…”

“Best to lie low.” Herbert nodded. “A wise choice. Just wait it out. They might not be here long. Might not even see much of them at all.”

The [Guard] stood and stretched. “In any case, if they do catch you, keep my name out of it, would you? I don’t do well in tight spaces.”

Clay snorted. “I’ll try. Thanks Herb.”

“No problem at all.” Herbert headed for the door and then paused. “I told the girl at the shrine, too. She said she was going to watch and wait. Any idea what that meant?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” Clay waved it away, and Herbert sighed. Then he was gone, headed back to his horse and the baron’s manor.

Clay listened to him go and thought over the situation. He’d been so close to killing the Lair, or at least the things spawning monsters from it. Now he might have put his friends in danger, or risk being discovered. Was there some way to do both? Could he stay hidden and still make sure they were safe?

The question continued to eat away at him long into the night.

“Hey, lazybones! Get up!”

The voice was accompanied by the kind of knock that seemed about ready to rattle the door off its hinges. Clay grunted in surprise and did one final check of the farmhouse. He’d already hidden his notes away in their secret spot and tucked his weapons into the rafters. Unless the Guild representative was up for searching his ramshackle farmhouse, he hoped he had everything tucked away.

Then he went over to the door and opened it, giving the people outside a broad grin. “Enessa! Charles! You’re back!”

Enessa looked…different. Her hair was still short, but her face had a few scars on it, and someone had broken her nose at some point. She was wearing some kind of padded armor, but even with it on, he could tell that her arms and legs were thicker than they’d ever been. Before the Choosing he’d won wrestling matches against her. Now he wasn’t quite so sure.

Behind her was Charles, who was wearing a surcoat and armor, and had a full helm tucked under his arm. He had a broadsword strapped to his hip, a shield on his back, and he seemed to stand taller than he had before. Maribel was next to him, smiling in a hooded robe that carried arcane markings on it. Even Ned and George were there, one with dark armor befitting his [Dark Knight] status and a battleaxe to match, and the other with a surcoat, chestplate, and massive lance.

They all seemed to glow with excitement and strength. He grinned and spread his arms. “Welcome back, heroes! What brings you to this corner of the world again?”

Charles was the one who spoke. “We heard that there’s been trouble here, so the guild decided it could send us. We know the territory, after all.”

Clay stepped forward and gave Enessa a hug. She squeezed back—much harder than she used to!—and he returned the embrace in kind.

Then he felt her tense slightly in surprise, and he blinked. He felt…stronger than usual, even though there weren’t any spiders in sight. Was this [Paragon]? Hiding things might be a bit harder than he thought.

Trying not to let it show, he stepped back and let go, and then reached out to grab Charles’ hand. Clay could feel his friend squeezing carefully; it was typical of the baron’s son to be so considerate. He tried to follow that example and shake his hand with no sign of anything unusual. “Well, I’m glad you’re all here! We had some people getting nervous.”

Charles’ eyes flickered with concern. “Have you noticed anything? You live right near the place.”

Clay felt his smile grow a bit fixed. “Well, I haven’t seen anything come out of the woods, if that’s what you mean.” Technically, a true statement, and hopefully his friends would leave it at that.

“Were you going to introduce us to your friend, Sir Charles?”

The voice was smooth, measured, and calm. Clay looked back behind his friends and saw another two men standing there. One wore armor that literally shone in the sunlight. He’d disdained a helmet, and was watching the rest of them with barely concealed scorn. The other had been the source of the voice, and the moment Clay saw him, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

He was wearing an armored surcoat over a cloak with a hood. There were runes of some kind running along the edges of the fabric, and Clay could have sworn he saw some of them glow in the sunlight. Everything about the way he moved and stood shouted power and experience. At the same time, he was utterly relaxed, stepping forward and lowering his hood. The stranger smiled.

“My name is Leonard Stillweather, and I am a member of the Adventurer’s Guild. This is Lord Nathaniel Frensfeld, a [Noble] who has joined us on this journey.”

The [Noble] sniffed slightly and looked away. He was clearly unwilling to associate himself with Clay’s small hovel, and despite the sorry state of the place, Clay felt his face harden at the insult. Leonard glanced back at the younger man and then returned his gaze to Clay.

“We’ll be patrolling the edges of the forest today, so please, if you see anything—or anyone—passing by the area, please let us know. It is important that we are here to help you, and that you know you are going to be safe.”

Clay attempted to look suitably grateful. “Thank you, Sir Leonard. I welcome you and my old friends to my humble farm.”

He saw Charles shift uncomfortably; he likely had noticed the exclusion of his [Noble] companion. Lord Frensfeld merely folded his arms and gave Clay a withering stare. It was difficult to not give him one in return, though Clay did feel a flicker of satisfaction as the [Noble]’s gaze grew uneasy.

When he looked back at Leonard, the man seemed curious. The man made a brief gesture, and his hands glowed for a moment. Enessa and Charles both shifted in surprise, but before they could say anything, Leonard spoke up again. “Do not worry, goodman, I’m just casting a protection [Charm] over you. There should be no more danger than usual, but it pays to be careful.”

Clay blinked. He was relatively certain that it was not a protection [Charm], but he had no real idea about what it could be. Something to track him, perhaps? Or maybe a quick check of his [Gift]? If so, why hadn’t he mentioned his [Stats] or levels? “Thank you, Sir Leonard. I feel much safer with you here.”

Sir Leonard raised an eyebrow. He appeared…less than convinced, but he merely nodded. “I am glad to hear it. For now, you’ll have to excuse us. Perhaps there will be time to catch up with your friends later.”

The suggestion had all the force of an order, even delivered in that same calm voice, and the adventurers from Pellsglade all stiffened slightly. Maribel and the twins both waved goodbye as they followed Leonard and Frensfeld back towards the Tanglewood.

Charles, however, paused long enough to shake Clay’s hand again. He smiled, just a bit uneasy. “You’ll get used to them. He’s a good man, despite the exterior. Sir Leonard is a good leader, as well.”

Clay blinked. He thought Frensfeld was a good man? Clearly, his friend’s good nature was taking a bit too much for granted. Either that, or there was something he’d missed about the snooty fop. “I’ll…give him a chance.”

“Good.” Charles looked around at the half-cleared fields, the neglected furrows, and a bit of worry entered his open and honest face. Then he shook himself and turned back to him. “I’ll be back later. To talk.”

Clay nodded, and Charles hurried after the others. Enessa watched him go for a bit and laughed. “Well, I suppose I need to go after them. You sure you’re okay out here? It looks like things haven’t been going very well.”

She nodded at the fields, as if to make sure he couldn’t mistake her meaning. He winced at the implied criticism. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to get started here. I just keep…getting distracted.”

“So I hear. Something about a cute girl at the shrine?” She nudged him harder than he was used to. He frowned at her.

“Olivia is just a friend, Enessa. Just like you.”

“Oh my! You would impugn the honor of a fair maiden like myself?” Enessa made as if to faint, and then laughed. “Well, I’m gonna be back to hear all about what’s been distracting you. Try to clean things up a little before I get back, okay?”

“No promises. Good fortune for all of you!”

She laughed again and jogged after the others. It seemed to take her next to no time to catch up. He stood at the door, still waving after them. Clay waited until he saw them turn along the edge of the Tanglewood. When he was sure that they weren’t going to enter it yet, he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d follow them later if they started to do something risky.

For now, though, they’d expect him to be at home, working away at the farm, and both Enessa and Charles had a point. Things needed to be cleaned up a little, and he had the time now.

It would be a good way to pass the time, at least.

He was still working away on the farm when he heard someone holler at him from the path. When he looked over, he saw his mother and father walking up, with Sam pushing the handcart. Clay straightened up from the thornbush he’d been chopping away at and waved back before walking over to meet them.

“Good to see you! What brings you out this way?”

Amelia was smiling as she answered. “We just thought we’d come out to help get you ready for planting. Do you mind the help?”

“Not at all!” Clay forced a grin, trying not to wonder what had brought them out to the farmhouse now. He obviously couldn’t sneak off into the Tanglewood today, but the feeling of being watched and monitored wasn’t going to help.

Sam grinned at him as well. “Will is helping the others get ready for our harvest, so I thought I’d give them a day to rest before we start. Figured that it would be good to come and get you started while they did.”

Clay nodded, feeling a little like there were jaws sliding shut around him. It was going to be a long day.

They worked on the fields for the next eight hours. His father was methodical, showing him how and where to plant each seed. With two people working, it went quickly, even faster than Clay had expected. Most of it was done before midday, but his parents didn’t leave after the meal at lunch. Instead, they started in on the repairs for the house, where Amelia showed him how and where his patches to the roof had failed. She said nothing about the bundle of weapons hidden away in the rafters, but perhaps she just thought they were unused tools.

By the time the afternoon had come and gone, he half collapsed alongside his parents. He sat on his bedroll, surrendering his precious chairs to them. As they all looked out over the newly seeded fields, Clay felt a surprising amount of satisfaction with the work he’d done. It was different, compared to the triumph he’d felt as he fought the monsters, but it was no less of a good thing.

He pondered about that for a while. When he had confronted the Trickster, during his Choosing, the goddess had implied that he had failed to do what was important the first time. Had this been what she had meant? Was he ignoring her advice by not focusing on simpler things? The monsters might have waited until the real adventurers came. Maybe a farmer’s life was what he was meant to do after all.

Then he remembered the first few times he’d gone hunting in the Tanglewood. He remembered the desperation of those first few fights, and the nightmares he’d had of them coming at him and his family through the fields. Clay thought about the night he’d saved the baron and his men, and shook his head. The farm could wait until the village was safe. It would be the satisfaction he sought once it was all done.

As he was musing to himself, Sam cleared his throat. “You know, these seeds are going to need plenty of watering and weeding over the next few days. You don’t seem to have a lot of vermin, somehow, but the fields still need a lot of careful watching.”

Clay winced. His lack of attention had been noticed once again, apparently. “I know, Dad. I’ll do my best.”

His mom spoke up next, her voice rather more casual than usual. “It might be easier, now, with those adventurers here. They can handle things, and you can focus on where you are needed. Where it’s safe.”

He frowned for a moment, and then turned back to his parents. They were both looking at him far too intently, and realization dawned. “You know. You both know.”

Sam glanced at Amelia and then nodded. “You move a bit…differently now, son. The plow seemed lighter for you than it did for me, and you react to things quicker. I kept noticing the differences when we worked together, and frankly, no son of mine would let his fields take this long to get ready. Not unless he was otherwise occupied.”

His father paused and shifted uncomfortably on his chair. “At first I thought I was just getting old, that maybe it was me slowing down. Your mother thought maybe you were just spending all of your time mooning over that girl in town. But then I heard people talking about the night you went to the Sarlwood. About the night someone helped the baron…”

Clay heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. Then he laid his head back against the wall. Of course they had figured it out. It had only been a matter of time. Why did it have to be now, though?

Then he frowned and opened his eyes. “Wait. How long have you known?”

Amelia exchanged a look with Sam. “We suspected a while, but once those screams started happening… we started watching your farm. Just to be careful, to be sure. We saw you go into the Tanglewood, with that spear and the rest.” She glanced up at the rafters, and a look between pride and resentment crossed her features. Then she looked back at him, all her fears in her eyes. “We knew what you were doing. You always wanted to be a hero, to save people.”

Sam laughed, and he saw the same mixture of pride and fear in his father. “I suppose I’ve got nobody to blame but myself. When your neighbor’s field is on fire, you help put it out before it spreads to yours. If they’ve got rats or worms or worse, you help stop it, before they show up in your crops.”

Then his father paused and looked at him again. There was respect there, but worry too. “But you don’t have to do it anymore, son. The professionals are here. They can hunt the monsters, with their armor and their magic. You don’t have to do it. You can be safe now, with them here.”

There were suddenly tears in his eyes, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. All the exhaustion and secrecy of the past few months crashed over him in a wave. His parents’ love was a balm for it, but it still felt like he was barely holding on. Clay forced a laugh. “Well, maybe that’s true. They just seem so…unprepared for it, and I’m pretty sure the older one is just here looking for me.”

His parents exchanged another look. Amelia spoke first. “Nobody’s going to turn you in, Clay. You’re our son, and as far as we’re concerned, you’ve been brave and doing the right thing. The baron owes you his life, whatever the King might say about it. Nobody has to know.”

Sam nodded in agreement, and Clay felt another wave of relief. A tension he hadn’t known was there faded from his back, and he laughed again, softly. “I was so worried about you finding out. I thought you would call me a fool for trying, or worse.”

His father snorted. “I won’t say it wasn’t stupid, boy, but you should know better than that. You’re our son, right or wrong, and we’ll do right by you. And we know you’ll do right by us.”

Clay nodded. “I will. Even if we don’t agree on what that means.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, but before he could speak up, Amelia broke in again. “Does anyone else know? About…what you’ve been doing?”

“Hebert, one of the baron’s men, figured it out. He won’t tell anyone, I think.” Clay fidgeted with his fingers, too. “And Olivia. The girl at the shrine. She’s been helping me a lot.”

There was a moment of surprise and silence. Then Sam burst out laughing. Amelia looked a little less than happy. She shook her head. “I’m not sure if I should be disappointed or impressed. I’d hope the girl would be a better influence on you. Maybe I should have a talk with her, to help settle her down, too.”

Clay gave her a look. “She was a good influence! I wouldn’t have learned any magic without her.”

Both his parents looked surprised. Sam was the first to recover. “Magic? The girl knows spells of some kind?”

“Well, she found a few. [Chants] they’re called. Look, watch.” He stood up and came over to them. All of their hands were covered in dirt and grime from the work they’d done, and he took one of their hands in his own.

He hadn’t used the [Chant] for the Pure Touch very often in battle, though he’d found it useful to keep himself free of ichor and blood. Now he spoke the words with a different target in mind. Moments later, the dirt and grime fell away from all three of them, leaving his parents staring in wonder.

Then his mother looked around his house, and her lips quirked. “And yet still such a mess…”

Clay threw up his hands in false exasperation. “I’ve been just a little busy here, Mom. I’ll get around to organizing things a bit better, I promise.”

Sam, however, seemed quiet. He was looking down at his callused hands, now meticulously cleaned. When he looked up, his expression was…thoughtful. Almost cautious. “Son, you are a [Commoner], aren’t you?”

He paused, surprised at the question. “Yeah, absolutely. You were at the Choosing, you heard the Rector.”

“So, could I learn that spell?”

Clay nodded, unsure what his father was saying. “Yeah, you could. There’s a few low level [Chants] that would work at the maximum [Memory] for a level one [Commoner], but to use some of the more powerful ones you’d have to level up a bit.”

His parents looked at each other again, and this time it wasn’t a quick glance. Instead, it was a wordless communication that was beyond anything that he could understand, something built by simple understanding grown over half a lifetime together. When Sam turned back, his expression had grown a bit more worried. “Son, have you…leveled? How far have you gone?”

Taken aback by the question, Clay was still searching for a way to answer when he caught sight of someone coming up along the road. He frowned, thinking he recognized the person. “Mom, Dad, it’s Charles.”

They sat up straighter, giving each other another quick look, but Clay was already standing and heading for the door. Why would Charles be here alone? He couldn’t picture Enessa letting come without joining in, and the way he was moving looked familiar. Like he was moving in spite of exhaustion.

Clay sped up, jogging over to his friend. Charles’ armor was dirty, now, but there wasn’t any blood. That fact alone kept Clay from fearing the worst. The look on Charles’ face, however, was far too solemn. “Charles, what’s going on? Why isn’t Enessa with you?”

Charles paused and then shook his head. “She’s a bit tired right now, and Sir Leonard has told her she needs to stay close. She and George went into the Tanglewood, just to look around, and they…ran into something.”

He felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. “Are they okay? Is anyone hurt?”

The [Paladin] nodded. “They are both…fine. George was bit and ensnared a little, but Enessa got it off him and carried him back to us. If Maribel hadn’t gotten a healing [Charm]…” He cracked a smile. “I guess it’s a good thing she’s a [White Mage]. Both of them are a little shaken up, but they should both be fine by the time we all go in tomorrow.”

Clay felt adrenaline pumping inside him, and he slowly clenched his hands. He turned and looked back at his father and mother, who were watching him from the doorway. “So they’re safe, then.”

“Yeah. I just wanted to let you know.” Charles smiled; he seemed exhausted as well. “I’d like to stay longer, but Sir Leonard doesn’t want any of us alone right now. We’ll talk tomorrow, all right? I think we were planning on starting our expedition from here.”

“That sounds great. Let me know if there is anything that I can do to help.” He said the words loud enough that his parents had to hear them easily. Charles didn’t seem awake enough to notice; he just nodded his head and shook his hand. Then the [Paladin] started off down the road to town, still weary but undaunted.

Clay watched him go for a while longer. Then he turned back to the farmhouse.

His parents were both watching him, their expressions nearly unreadable. He walked up to them and spoke softly. “One of them almost killed George Furrows today. Enessa was with him; if she hadn’t been, or if it had gone for her first…”

Clay stopped, unable to voice the thought fully. He looked away for a long moment, his mind racing through all the options.

Danger was a part of being an adventurer. His friends were going to need to face things just as terrible and hostile as anything he’d ever seen for the whole rest of their lives. They’d need to face it…but at the same time, he wasn’t always going to be there, waiting to hear if one of them was dead. He wasn’t always going to be there—and he was here now. Clay could help them, now.

He looked back and saw his parents watching him. There was acceptance on their faces as well as fear, and he stepped close to hug them. A wry smile tugged at his lips. “If your neighbor’s field is on fire…”

Sam Evergreen squeezed him back. When Clay stepped back, his father’s voice was rough. “Go put it out, son. And you come back to us.”

“I will, Dad.” Clay nodded to him, and then gave his mother another, quieter hug. She breathed in deep, like she was trying to memorize every bit of him. Then she stood back, straightened her back, and nodded.

He gave her his own nod and then stepped past them. It took a little bit of a jump to reach the bundle hidden away in the rafters, but he did it almost without thinking. There wasn’t much daylight left, and he had plenty of work to do.