Siel’s gaze lingered on the horizon as she sighed and forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Sam had insisted that she learn some of the basics of cooking in order to share more of the camp chores.

  She’d been adamant that it was a lost cause, but given that he’d saved her life—again—she figured that the least she could do was try.

  A long, orange vegetable sat in front of her on a thin wooden board. Sam had asked her to dice it for the stew.

  Chop a skinny root, should be easy enough, she thought, watching in dismay as the knife bit deep into the wood. She could cut up monsters until her ears curled, but for some reason, food preparations eluded her at every level.

  From prepping the ingredients to tending the fire, everything she made came out either raw and lumpy or overcooked and runny.

  Despite Sam springing nearly half a kilometre away to do his business, she’d still been forced to listen as he painfully evacuated one such failed dinner. Only manually reducing the mana to [Nature’s Eye] had dulled her senses enough that she didn't have to listen to his pitiful moans.

  She would have felt worse if he hadn't been the one insisting she cook. To her people, food was sustenance, nothing more. To celebrate food was luxury, and luxury was waste. Nothing was worse than excess to an Ot. Excess meant you had too much, which meant someone else was going without. The good of the clan was paramount.

  She still felt uncomfortable about the amount of food the party consumed, but she couldn't deny that they needed the calories. Mjolna, in particular, was a constant source of attention. The boar required a never-ending influx of vittles. Siel could have fed her entire village for a week with what the boar consumed in a day.

  The flames crackled as she finished dicing the carrot and added it to the pot. The water hissed, and she prodded the fire with an arrow, unsure what she was meant to be doing, only knowing that Sam did it with some regularity.

  The human was off scouting, ensuring the area around their camp was clear before they settled in for the night. He insisted on doing it himself, despite Mjolna being more than capable. The boar could smell an approaching monster a mile out and had saved them from ambush on more than one occasion.

  They’d set up in a hollow overlooking a wide swathe of desert. Steep cliffs rose to their right, dotted with deep caves and winding canyons. The pale sandstone looked ghostly in the moonlight, stark, and unforgiving.

  The moon was high over the drop, its radiance lighting up the landscape like a silver torch. Siel basked in its glow. She’d never felt moonlight before arriving on Olympos, and yet despite only experiencing it for a few weeks, couldn't imagine ever going without.

  A familiar anger stirred in her gut as she thought of all the things that her people had been systemically denied. Here she was, breathing unfiltered air, with the sky overhead. That alone would have been considered a miracle. She hated that it was becoming normal.

  She never wanted to take these wonders for granted. As difficult as it was living in a constant state of fear, she wouldn't trade the experience for anything. Her own death scared her far less than failure. She had a chance, a real opportunity, to bring her people back a weapon that hadn't been seen in centuries.

  She could be the champion who finally led the charge that broke through the barriers to the surface. She could be the one to destroy the tracking system and disable the containment protocols. The power of her goddess could do what hundreds of thousands of her kin could not.

  She smiled to herself as she imagined it, not letting her current predicament dull the silver fire roaring within her. Her grandfather had always accused her of being too optimistic, too joyful.

  “No Ot should spend their days smiling when there's work to be done,” he’d growl through his beard. Only, there was always work to be done, and few enough reasons to smile that Siel reckoned they should celebrate the few they had.

  She’d smiled more in the past four weeks than she had in her entire thirty-three years. She’d found herself grinning like a sprite for no reason other than that she could smell trees. She’d even seen flowers. Flowers, of all things. They were just growing out in the open, without a care in the world.

  Her ears perked up as she heard footsteps approaching the camp. They’d dug a hole in the dirt and obscured their fire behind some rocks, so her night eyes were mostly intact. It still took her a few seconds to locate Sam as he wove his way across the barren landscape.

  She was impressed by how far he’d come in only a few weeks. He was still far too noisy, and he wasn't nearly as conscious of his surroundings as he should be, but he was leaps and bounds ahead of the lumbering brute he’d been when they’d first met.

  His power was incredible. By simply not investing resources in [Divine Skills], he’d been able to cultivate a physicality that would likely rival Silver Rankers in raw strength and endurance. His speed was monstrous, and he’d begun practicing catching her arrows mid-air just to test his reaction time. Add to that his fortitude, and his ability to negate magic, and he was functionally a one-man militia. A scythe in a field of wheat.

  She waved at him as he finished his approach, and she smiled as he returned it. All that power, of course, depended on him being able to reach his intended target. He had no recourse against enemies that could keep him at range, and no real way to close the distance other than his own two feet. It was his one true weakness, and not one she could see him overcoming—at least not alone.

  She fingered the arrow that she was using as a fire poker. That’s where she came in. She was his ranged support and a way to tie down enemies so they couldn't escape. She’d begun training with her vines to burrow beneath the earth and catch their prey unawares. It was slow going, but her control got better every day.

  “We’re all clear,” Sam said softly as he clambered into the hollow and settled in beside her. “Nothing moving for miles. This place really is a desert.”

  “It is as I said. Mjolna would have warned us in either case. Her senses are sharper than either of ours.”

  “Still,” Sam grunted, storing his equipment. “Sometimes you just have to check with your own two eyes. Maybe I'm paranoid, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.”

  “I'm pretty sure you just did it to get out of cooking,” Siel replied, gesturing at the pot.

  “Absolutely not,” he said with a bemused grin. “But at least this way you're getting some practice in.” He took out a spoon and tried a bite of the stew. “Honestly, this isn't bad. A bit more salt and it’ll be totally edible.” He took a small pouch from his inventory and sprinkled it into the pot. “We’ll make a chef of you, yet. Someone’ll need to call the Michelin Guide.”

  “Is that a guide that directs people to…food?” Siel responded, berating herself for goading the human into using more and more obscure Earth references. Days of her quoting ancient Sylvanarae Proverbs had incensed him to the point where he couldn't go a conversation without leaving her scratching her head.

  “Yes, actually. Restaurants specifically.”

  “Was this Michelin a well-known explorer?”

  “It’s actually a tire company.”

  Siel blinked, unsure if she heard correctly. “Tires as in, for vehicles?”

  Sam made a face and shrugged. “Yeah, don't ask me why. Their mascot is also a giant marshmallow person…unless I'm getting it mixed up with the Pillsbury Dough Boy.”

  Siel leaned back against the rock wall and pursed her lips, biting back a retort. She knew he was only trying to distract her, given that tonight was the night she’d finally ascend to Bronze. The moon was nearly full, and while she would have preferred to wait until it reached its apex, they couldn't delay any longer. She’d amassed enough Spira the previous day, but they’d wanted to reduce the chances that something would go wrong.

  Sam had walked her through his specific experience, but she had no idea whether hers would be even remotely similar. She’d been practicing the breathing and [Mana Network] strengthening techniques he’d shown her.

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  She just hoped it would be enough.

  “Are you ready?” he said at last, removing the pot from the fire. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She knew in theory it was perfectly safe, but supposedly a few Warriors died each cycle, their bodies refusing the transformation. It was rare, but she wasn’t keen on becoming another statistic.

  “I’m ready,” she confirmed, pulling up her tafla. She selected her [Primal Tamer] title and reviewed the upgrades. She was pleased that this was the purchase that would finally take her to Bronze. She’d gotten it when she’d tamed Mjolna and nearly died in the attempt. She’d bonded her fate to those of her familiars; it was fitting that they would help her ascend. The title increased the effectiveness of all her tamer skills, just as [Nature’s Chosen] increased her nature affinity.

  She reached out a hand and scratched the boar behind the ear, heartwarming at the sound of her contented grunts. She felt better knowing that her companions were beside her. She thought she’d made a decision on which route to take, but she wanted to give it one final look.

  [Title Upgrade: Primal Tamer - Permanent - Iron - Tier 5]

  Soul Funnel

  Significantly increases the passive effect of [Channel Familiar], granting the tamer a significant portion of their familiar’s power.

  Cost: 2,500 Spira

  [Title Upgrade: Primal Tamer - Permanent - Iron - Tier 5]

  Skill Network

  Allows for Bonded Familiars to gain limited access to their tamer’s skills. Creates a network of skills between Familiars and Tamer.

  Cost: 2,500 Spira

  At a glance, most would likely have opted for [Soul Funnel]. She already heavily relied on [Channel Familiar] in combat, both for the extra fortitude it granted her, as well as the active ability to utilize her familiar’s skills. Being able to siphon power from her familiars further was amazing and would only continue to scale as she added more on the higher Rings.

  [Skill Network] was the riskier choice. It put a lot of faith in her Familiars’ abilities to utilize her skills, and not all of them would likely be suitable. It still intrigued her. She’d gone back and forth debating the wording with Sam, and they’d even consulted Arther to get his opinion.

  In the end, they’d agreed with her interpretation of the text. She hoped she was right, because if her understanding was correct, this single upgrade could be one of the most powerful in the War…if she ever got a chance to utilize it.

  She took a deep breath and selected the upgrade.

  A rush of sensation swirled through her, and for a moment, she could see through Mjolna’s eyes. Her flesh crawled as different senses spiked and receded. The stew, which sat momentarily forgotten, suddenly rose to the fore, pungent and exciting. Siel didn’t appreciate how much restraint Mjolna was exerting, leaving the food untouched. Her stomach groaned in sympathy as the impressions increased, sending a shooting pain through her eyes.

  Mana began to flow in earnest through her Heart Chakra, billowing outwards like steam from a cracked pipe. She used the technique Sam had shown her, but she found it much more difficult to control the pulsating energy. The moon called to the wispy vapours of power, and it was a struggle to call them back. More and more mana poured through her, and her body shook as she desperately tried to restrain it.

  This was the power of the moon. A force that pushed and pulled the worlds. It drew energy from her like the waves at high tide, like the songs her ancestors had sung, pulled from the deepest part of her being. Like Sam, she focused on channelling those waves into a river, a swirling pattern that deepened her connection to the world around her.

  That world slipped away, and she was left standing in a pool of inky blackness. Ripples spread from her feet, and she saw they transcended both space and time. She looked up, gasping at the field of stars above her, reflected in the pool’s mirrored surface.

  As she craned her neck, she realized she was standing before a throne. The throne was built into the trunk of a great tree, whose roots drank greedily from the pool of stars. As her perception widened, she realized the pool was in the center of a grove, and between the distant trunks, great beasts loomed. Their footsteps caused the plane to tremble with their passing, their ripples meeting hers, creating frothing waves that turned the pool to a maelstrom of liquid light.

  “Enough,” came a voice that was at once a roar and a whisper. In an instant, the breakers settled, the pool once again returning to a flat sheet of perfect glass.

  “That is no way to treat your sibling; she has only just begun her quest.” The voice resolved into something comprehensible, a firm, feminine tone that brokered no argument or disobedience. “Come, Siel Ot’Oné. Kneel before your goddess.”

  A beam of moonlight bathed the pool in a flood of icy pearlescence, and the throne, which had hovered at the very tip of Siel’s perception, was suddenly resting before her, revealing a sylvan woman clad in a gossamer gown, shoulders draped in pelts of molten silver.

  Siel lowered herself into the pool, kneeling so that her forehead touched the cool, dark liquid. “Goddess Dianae, I pledge myself to you. I beg of you, lend me the strength to do what must be done. Help me free my people from tyranny and oppression.”

  A laugh echoed through the grove. It was as light as the wings of a hawk in flight, and as cutting as its talons. “What ego is this, my child? You who have not yet taken the first step up the Spire, asking for the power you take when you conquer it? No. Do not ask me that again, for those words may only be spoken at the gates of the Halls of Eternity. Set your sights lower, for each day on Olympos may be your last.”

  “Of course, Goddess.” Siel clenched her jaw, afraid that she’d already spoiled her chance. She’d simply been–

  “Speaking from your heart. Yes, I know. And I do admire it. But protocols must be observed.”

  Siel flinched, hearing the goddess respond to her innermost thoughts. There was a lingering touch on her mind, and she knew that her entire being was laid bare before this ancient being.

  “Rather than ask for power, perhaps knowledge would serve you best. You have set yourself on an…interesting path. Your fate is bound to an outlier among outliers. You will need to tame his wilder urges if you are to reach the summit alive. He has already deeply angered my father. It has been many centuries since I have seen a singular mortal irk him so. A skill, to be sure, but not one I think either of you wants.”

  The laughter returned, and Siel found herself shaking. Ripples once again raced outwards into the pool, and it took all her focus to get her body under control. “Yes, of course, Mistress. I will see that he does everything in his power to limit his…irksome nature.”

  “Oh no, don’t do that. It is far too late for young Samuel in that regard. He could beg for a thousand years, and Zetos would still call for his head. No, my father has many enemies, and there are those of us who find his consternation rather entertaining. Samuel needs to seek out those allies if either of you wants to have a chance at survival.”

  Siel raised her head and nodded, not daring to look the goddess in the eye. “I understand, Mistress. How are we to find these allies?”

  “They will find you. Their patrons will guide them as I am guiding you. There are forces at work here beyond your understanding. The tenth sister is moving, and eyes are opening that have not opened in millennia.”

  Siel blinked, not comprehending. “I do not understand, Mistress.”

  Dianae shrugged, pelts rippling in the moonlight. “You will. For now, ask me a final question; our time is nearly up.”

  Siel opened her mouth to respond, but no question leapt to her mind. There was still so much she didn’t understand about the Spire that she didn’t even know where to begin pulling on the thread to unravel it. Instead, her mind landed on something closer to home.

  “Mistress, my title upgrade. Does it function how I think it does, or did I misunderstand the Arbiter’s meaning?”

  Dianae snorted, sending out a wave that filled Siel’s mouth and nose with frothing water. “You would have found the answer to this question in time, on your own. You were confident enough in choosing it in the first place. Keep that confidence. You will need it. But to answer your question–yes. You were correct in your interpretation. Next time we meet, have a better question.”

  “Next time?”

  The stars overhead shimmered and crackled, and the water beneath her began swirling like water down a drain. Siel struggled to hold on, but the ground–if it had been ground–beneath her feet vanished, and she was left tumbling down into the darkness.

  She awoke with a start, back in the hollow, mind reeling. Both Mjolna and Sam stood guard at the entrance. Sam held his spear loosely in his hand. They both turned when she regained consciousness, gasping for breath. The sun had just begun to peak around the horizon. Somehow, she’d been gone for hours. It had only felt like moments.

  “Welcome back,” Sam said with a smile, storing his spear. “The stew’s gone cold, but honestly, it might be an improvement.”

  Siel returned the smile, stretching her back, and feeling the thrum of power that resonated just beneath her skin. Her muscles were positively singing, anxious to be put to use. She felt as though her entire life had been spent asleep, and through the power of the moon, finally been woken from her dream.

  “So how was it? What happened?” There was a note of concern in Sam’s voice that he wasn’t capable of masking. Siel appreciated it, even if it was misplaced.

  “I spoke to her,” she replied, getting to her feet.

  “To Dianae, my goddess. She shared with me great wisdom and knowledge of what is to come.”

  “Hey, we love wisdom,” Sam responded, nodding his head. “Did she…say anything about me?”

  Siel scrunched her face, trying to tie together the loose threads of memory. The pool was already fading, though the sentiments remained.

  “Uh, yes, she did. She said you’d accomplished something no mortal has done in hundreds of years.”

  “Well, hey!” Sam yelled. “That’s pretty cool, right?”

  “Cool indeed,” Siel responded, trying not to laugh.

  “Did she say anything else? Anything about your title?”

  “She did. We were right.”

  Sam’s smile widened, “Well, shit. I guess we need to get you another Familiar.”