Ranthia staggered out of the Adventurer’s Guild bright and early one morning, stunned beyond words.

  The Emperor himself—or so it was claimed—had insisted on an additional reward for her role in uncovering the corrupt governor’s plot. Ranthia had already received the largest single payday of her life for completing the job, but the government more than matched it.

  Ranthia had officially made more off that one job than she had throughout her entire solo Adventurer career.

  Ranthia just kind of numbly wandered the streets as she tried to process it. She had enough coin that the temptation to be gloriously reckless with it was hard to ignore. She could buy all the arcanite she needed! …But no, she’d have to get her armor completely redesigned to accommodate it, then she’d be without it for who knew how long. Sure, she could get a new suit made, but she really loved her armor, even if a few Adventurers gave her crap about a lack of shoulder guards. As if thin studded leather pads were going to help against a dinosaur’s teeth.

  Gods, she could actually afford her home if she had to pay for it, at least for a while. And there were a lot of painfully expensive amenities and services that she had never even tried…

  She was being ridiculous, Ranthia told herself before she got too tempted. She wasn’t about to let her newfound wealth change her! Jobs like that didn’t exactly show up on the board every day after all. She was going to be completely reasonable and rational.

  …If she had ever actually found a place in Ariminum where cats gathered, where she could play with them unimpeded, she would have probably bought a sack full of freshly caught fish just to prove herself wrong. Unfortunately, alleys in Ariminum tended to be controlled by street gangs or groups of young thieves. This left the local cats as mostly untrusting loners that popped up here or there and were almost always loath to allow her to even briefly touch them.

  Absent cat bonding time, Ranthia just kind of wandered aimlessly while she explored her own thoughts—or remained thoroughly distracted by longing for feline companionship—and soon wandered into the slums. She wasn’t exactly worried; she was geared up and [Combat Awareness] kept her vigilant no matter how her mind meandered. Not that crime rates in the slums were really all that bad. Thieves avoided the area—why steal from those who have nothing to take—and most issues fell under domestic abuse or the rare street gang turf war. And street gang turf wars were rare because they tended to get both sides wiped out by the guards and local Rangers.

  So, no, Ranthia wasn’t worried, instead she just allowed herself to wander. At least until she overheard a couple of nearby guards talking. Someone had been murdered, but what drew Ranthia’s attention was that the guards were arguing about whether he was killed with knives or not. Idle curiosity narrowly beat out her sense and she made her way over.

  The guards looked up when she neared, so Ranthia tossed her Adventurer’s Guild symbol to the nearest before she knelt by the body.

  “Are… you an expert on knife wounds?” The guard asked, confused.

  “More of an enthusiast.” Ranthia answered glibly. She hadn’t meant to be glib, but it just kind of slipped out.

  “Wait… A-Ranked, her age… She’s the one that caught the slavery ring. Let’s hear her out.” The other guard whispered to the confused one, nowhere near quietly enough.

  Fame—however brief—agreed with her, it seemed. Even the guards liked her now! Ranthia suspected she could probably get away with walking through the richest districts in the city at that point. …Not that she was going to test that either way.

  “It’s not a knife wound.” Ranthia finally decided after she finished studying the wounds.

  “What—Erm, that is, could you explain what led you to learn that?” The formerly confused guard asked while his partner returned her Guild symbol.

  “The uh,” the word victim escaped her for a moment (which might have slightly undermined her, but she rolled with it), “dead guy was slashed so it’s not super easy to tell, but the blade was way wider than even a military knife. Also, if you look carefully, the flesh deep inside the wound isn’t cut, it’s torn. My guess is he was killed by a broken sword or a sharp tool of some sort.”

  Not that she had much familiarity with tools other than bone needles for slapdash repairs for her tunics or former leather cloaks.

  The guards, at the very least, acted very impressed with her observations and promised to revise their search in light of her information, so Ranthia left in a chipper mood. She had been helpful and maybe—maybe—was finally developing a positive relationship with the guard! Her days of being arrested might just be over.

  Ranthia was still a solo Adventurer. She just hadn’t clicked with any of the other Adventurers around the city, not that she had given any of them a fair shake. She had never even set foot in the Guild’s training grounds—located somewhere outside the city walls—or grabbed a drink with any of her fellows. Tatius and Pupius were gone, but it just felt wrong to find another team.

  And yet Ranthia had volunteered to lead a team. It was a one-time thing; the others in the group were fresh C-Ranked youths (…that were her own age), so even if Ranthia wanted to, she couldn’t properly team up with them. They just needed someone B-Ranked or higher to keep a job they had taken before their friend ended up in jail over a tavern brawl. Ranthia had, admittedly, volunteered mostly because the two men that were trying to take the job from them were complete assholes that had been petty little shits ever since Ranthia was promoted to A Rank.

  But honestly, she was having fun with the group. There were two boys and two girls—and why was it such a struggle for Ranthia to refer to people her own age as men and women—but fortunately there were no weird romantic tensions or anything. The four were just old friends that grew up together, close buds that respected one another. The jokes flew non-stop as they made their way to the location, and it was just kind of a casual camping trip as far as Ranthia was concerned.

  It was kind of nostalgic, in a good way.

  The job was one of the rare investigative jobs that paid no matter what they found; just locals from a few farms a few days out from Ariminum were spooked by a strange noise almost every night and wanted to know what it was. None of them expected anything major out of the job and half of the jokes that they told were increasingly unlikely theories about what the sounds were.

  A young amorous couple sneaking off was boringly probable. A nocturnal dinosaur that was trapped and just complained at night was a bit silly, but it made a certain level of sense too. Ghosts were a chuckle-worthy bit of ridiculousness; there was no such thing. The idea that it was just some local who had a horrible singing voice practicing in secret was a delightful blend of probable and absurd. The suggestion that it was someone suffering noisy and extreme indigestion every night had briefly distracted them while they came up with explanations for that instead and laughed.

  The jokes only intensified when they finally arrived in the target area and moved through the woodlands. Three of the group carried lit torches to add a bit more light to the world beneath the full moons. Ranthia was unburdened, ready to react if she was needed; the last had his bow ready.

  Ranthia had just turned back to the group—she was in the lead—ready to make an extremely crass suggestion when they finally heard the sound.

  It was hard to define, echoing and ethereal. Ranthia had to admit, she had no idea what in Xaoc’s name made such a haunting cry.

  The jokes stopped. Archer boy and the two girls had their game faces on, but the last boy seemed to be biting down his urge to suggest they abandon the job. The group—mostly gamely—pressed on, ready for anything.

  …Not that it mattered. They spent more time trying to explain the sound than they spent finding or resolving it. Next to a pond was a depression dug into a hill. The hill itself was the source of the sound. There was a tiny hole that faced the pond, then the larger opening on the other side. Every time the seasonal wind blew over the pond the sound emerged from the hollow. Resolving it was simple enough, they just plugged the hole with mud and clay. Trying to explain why the sound only happened at night took them the entire night.

  When a raccoon walked right past them—completely indifferent to their presence—before it hopped into its den and shoved its butt back against the plugged hole, they finally had their answer.

  Not all jobs were covered in glory.

  In the aftermath of her job with the kids—people her own age, whatever—Ranthia finally decided that sometimes signing on with other groups wasn’t too awful. Hexara was thrilled every time she did, which helped. …But Ranthia was still mostly a solo Adventurer.

  She fought and bled solo against beasts and monsters. She explored woodlands and recovered lost objects or precious plants. She even took down a wanted classer. And she did it all alone. But she still took the occasional job with other Adventurers too.

  Ranthia was certain that she had thoroughly proven that she deserved her place among the A-Ranked. Even if she had burned the good will she once had with the guards. Seriously, just because she knifed one scumbag in the city limits without a job issued…

  Then bright and early one morning Ranthia left her room to find an exhausted runner from the Adventurer’s Guild waiting for her. The man wearily shoved a scroll in her general direction before he dashed off without further explanation, while Ranthia was trusted to catch the message he left in his wake. The scroll, in neat handwriting, simply asked her to report to the Adventurer’s Guild at noon for an important meeting.

  It was in that indeterminate period between winter and spring when the temperatures tended to swing, yet some early blooms were already painting the air with a sweet scent that almost managed to freshen up the omnipresent stink of the big city. Not that Remus ever got very cold, but Ranthia was impatient for spring; it was her favorite season even before her birthday factored in.

  Ranthia remained uncertain throughout her morning whether she was even going to attend the stupid meeting. She’d been moody for a while since Hexara had been swamped with work, which had greatly limited the time they spent together for several days at that point. Sunrise was great; honestly the runner was lucky she hadn’t spent the night at the brothel. …But Ranthia wasn’t in a relationship with the prostitute, so Sunrise made for a somewhat hollow replacement.

  Ranthia showed up. No matter how many excuses she considered and how annoyed she was at the concept of dealing with some likely formal meeting, she was also curious. And, in the end, her curiosity led her to the Guildhall just before noon. One of the clerks had just pointed at the largest meeting room, the one on the second floor of the Guildhall, and Ranthia soon found herself wedged in.

  There were a dozen other Adventurers present and, while Ranthia waited for things to begin, their numbers swelled up to sixteen. Four of them were A-Ranked, the rest were B-Ranked, and no one seemed to have any idea what this was about.

  Ranthia knew of most of the people in the room, though the only Adventurer she actually knew the name of was one of the other A-Ranked, Kaesios. AKA the other Mirror aspected A-Ranked Adventurer (who cares if he’d been there for a couple of years before Ranthia even showed up, he was still ‘the other’). They had run a couple of jobs together and had something not entirely unlike friendship. Even if he still refused to introduce her to his very single and allegedly very attractive younger sister.

  Kaesios was dressed in a tunic and was bereft of his trademark sword—a bizarre blade that was both much larger than most other swords Ranthia saw in Remus and much, much thinner than any blade Ranthia had ever seen. The man looked half awake (or possibly hungover), but Ranthia still found a spot next to him and forced him to engage her in conversation.

  “Do you know what this is about?” Ranthia asked once he finally looked her way.

  “Nope. Probably a mandatory group mission though, never like those.” He replied.

  Ranthia shrugged. If he didn’t know, it was unlikely that anyone else present knew.

  Finally, the Guildmaster himself strolled in, while two clerks hurried after him. The Guildmaster wore a formal smile on his face that just promised that Ranthia was going to sorely regret attending.

  “Welcome. Let me start this by pointing out that this is entirely optional, so if you decide to pass after you hear me out, that’s fine. But, with that said, we have been given an opportunity to show Remus just how important and valuable the Adventurer’s Guild is.”

  As far as openings went, Ranthia could hardly imagine one that would make her even more tempted to just immediately leave. This was not going to be a good meeting.

  “As you all know, the legions have been deployed against a new threat, the shimagu. This war isn’t like what we had with the formorians, it’s not some casual game where we hold and slowly extend a line. It’s a true war against a thinking, clever enemy.”

  Nope, no way. Ranthia was not going to take a job to go anywhere even tangentially related to the war zone.

  “All of this means that the military has changed procedures. Before, the legions and their commanders were more than happy to allow their most promising soldiers to be poached, so that they might see better use. Instead, the generals have balked—increasingly loudly—and insist that they require their future elites to stay with the army. This gives us an opportunity. You sixteen are my primary picks, though I will be adding others as needed to get to a full twenty-four, which includes replacing any of you that refuse…”

  Ranthia was on the cusp of voicing her refusal at whatever this was, before the man plowed on.

  “I would like you all to take this opportunity that the Emperor has granted us. Remus is in desperate need of additional talent for its pool of prospective Rangers. Attend the Ranger Academy this year and show Remus that our Adventurers are an even better source of power and professional capability than the legions ever were!”

  Ranthia was stunned. That was not where she was expecting this to go!

  Bedlam erupted as different opinions spewed forth from the gathered Adventurers. Even Kaesios seemed to overcome his stupor as he shouted out his own queries and thoughts, though Ranthia just kind of remained in her own shocked silence.

  Which made her unique, as far as the room went. Even the clerks that were just there to support the Guildmaster and hand him things or whisper to him were more involved in the discussions than Ranthia was.

  The Guildmaster answered questions that Ranthia only half heard. She couldn’t even remember in the aftermath if the other Adventurers had seemed interested or not. About all she pulled from the rest of the meeting was that they had time to make up their minds. By what Ranthia assumed to be a fluke, the deadline to give their decision was the morning after Ranthia’s birthday.

  Ranthia would either continue as she had been or she would try to become a Ranger, a path that she had never even really considered.

  And in all honesty, she wasn’t looking forward to trying to figure it out.

  Several days later, Ranthia found herself on an urgent job. A black-mark job, a mission to deal with other Adventurers that had gone rogue and betrayed the Guild. A group of four men had robbed and murdered the wealthy kid they were escorting, and the Guild wasn’t going to tolerate it—and yes Ranthia was, for the first time, glad that Tatius and Pupius had refused to listen when she wanted to kill the idiotic merchant that gave them the wrong city repeatedly.

  The team was the four best that the Guildmaster could locate quickly. Ranthia, The Slasher of Goblins (groan); Kaesios, The Sword of Infinity; Whatshisfacewiththebird, the Rockfall; and the guild’s alleged top A-Ranked in Remus who presumably had a name, Groundpound.

  The worst part was listening to bird guy complain about his title. Seriously, as if Rockfall was anywhere near being in the league of ‘the Slasher of Goblins’ when it came to bad names. Ranthia, instead, tried to turn the conversation to what the three men thought of the whole Ranger thing.

  “I wish I could, but I had to bow out. My partner’s wings bother her too much in the winter.” Rockfall complained while he pointed up to the giant owl that circled them from above. And yes, it was giant; any bird with a wingspan as wide as Ranthia was tall was a giant, even if there were much larger birds in Pallos.

  “I’m going for it.” Kaesios announced.

  “Really? You?” Ranthia just blinked in shock.

  “Oi, don’t be an ass! It’s a great opportunity.” The man grumbled.

  And birdguy was nodding along with him.

  “Why?” Ranthia asked.

  “Even the ones that complete their little training academy and don’t get picked go far in life. That alone is worth it, but the pay is competitive even for A-Ranked Adventurers. …And, yeah, the ladies love a man in uniform.”

  Groundpound ignored them, which wasn’t surprising. He hadn’t been in the meeting, and he had barely even spoken to them as they pursued the rogue Adventurers.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Still, they were making good time as they sprinted down the roads. The birdkeeper with the non-terrible alias seemed to be under the impression that they would soon catch up. Ranthia sprinted along with the others while she considered Kaesios’ words.

  “I’m just still not sure if it’s for me. I mean I’d love to travel again but I jus—”

  Ranthia suddenly stopped midsentence as she threw herself to the side. [Combat Awareness] didn’t give her enough of a heads up to avoid having to hit the ground, but that was infinitely preferable to taking either arrow in the chest.

  Ranthia rolled back and scrambled behind a tree, even as the other three sprang into action.

  “[Healer].” Groundpound shouted before he smashed his massive shield into the ground and rocketed away, pulled by the shield as the ground yanked it forward.

  Ranthia wasn’t entirely sure if he was warning them there was a [Healer], ordering them to focus on the [Healer], or saying he was on the [Healer]. Learn to communicate better!

  But she had gotten secure and concluded her channel, so she shifted to a fresh image that ran out from behind the tree—no sense in advertising that her true body was still there—with her knives drawn. Kaesios was living up to his alias, his big sword was in hand and Mirage copies of it surrounded him as he hacked at a speedster that was hard pressed to avoid every slash; clearly the target knew that more than one blade in there was real. Birdguy’s owl was diving toward the archer that had attempted to kill Ranthia, bombarding him with rocks while he tried to escape the tree he was in.

  Unfortunately, this left Ranthia facing the rogues’ defensive specialist. The man was shorter than she was, but he was armed with the traditional shield and spear. Ranthia loved her knives, but spears and shields were both bad matchups for her. She lacked the reach or the force to counter either, at least conventionally. Fortunately for her, she wasn’t just a [Warrior].

  Ranthia parried and danced around the man’s spear thrusts, as she tried to bait him into complacency. Then she sent out images on either side of the man.

  “Boo.” The one on his left taunted.

  Moments before the one on the right activated [Blades of Darkness] and lashed out at his flank.

  [*ding!* [Echoes Reflected] has reached level 91!]

  [*ding!* [Mirrored Moves] has reached level 62!]

  The man leapt away from the image that seemed to be attacking while he put his spear through the image that had spoken. Ranthia took advantage of the moment of vulnerability and lashed out with both knives, each empowered with [Blades of Darkness] and [Cross Strike].

  [*ding!* [Cross Strike] has reached level 101!]

  The spear’s head and almost a third of its shaft splintered off as Ranthia carved through. Her opponent made a final, fatal miscalculation and focused wholly on Ranthia while he ignored her last image, determined to beat her to death with what was left of his spear’s shaft.

  Ranthia simply dodged while she concluded her channel, then shifted to the ignored image while her former one tried to flee. Moments later, her knives were buried in the sides of the man’s neck. That made three kill notifications, which meant…

  Nope, Kaesios finished his fight—and earned them their fourth kill notification—before anyone decided to intervene. Ranthia even had to dodge the head that got launched her way, which had to be intentional!

  Yet another job was complete, yet Ranthia felt less certain than ever about what she wanted to do. She loved being an Adventurer, and yet she had begun to feel stagnant as one… Oh Xaoc, how she wished for a sign.

  Having her [Warrior] class countered by an opponent with one of the most common equipment loadouts in Remus put yet another question into Ranthia’s head. If she intended to become a Ranger, that was (probably) what the Guildmaster had told her to wait for before she classed up [Sudden End].

  Which meant that she had a narrow window of time to revisit whether or not she wanted to keep her class focused on knives. They had served her well, but she wasn’t a kid anymore. The lack of reach was occasionally problematic. It had never gotten her killed (obviously) and it wasn’t like she could discount what [Shards of Reflection] gave her as options, but…

  Were knives really the best fit for her?

  [Sudden End] was wholly knife-dependent, but if she worked hard, she could set the foundation for a broader class up. On the one hand, narrowly focused classes tended to get better class quality and more potent and efficient skills. On the other, she might have enough time to break certain skills to force them to accept, for example, short swords. The skill would lose several levels, but if she entered the Ranger Academy she had time.

  Part of her kind of liked the idea of taking a dual short sword style. It was slightly more practical, and it would allow her to honor Pupius’ memory, even if she had no intention of becoming a speedster.

  But… At the same time, Ranthia wasn’t enamored with the feel of practicing with dual short swords. They felt sluggish and clumsy compared to the unerring precision of her knives. Part of that was a proficiency bias—along with [Knives & War] being such a specialized skill—but Ranthia still struggled to find optimism for the idea of such a radical change.

  Still, it was something else to consider.

  “I need advice.”

  “Look both ways before you cross streets with wagon lanes. A bit of grease or butter will help your meat not stick to the pan. A well-applied kind word can make someone’s day, but an equally well-applied bit of cruelty can haunt them for the rest of their life. And no, that tunic is not flattering on you.”

  Ranthia just groaned and eyed the [Priest] until he raised his arms in surrender. She had checked the temple multiple times over the past couple of days, yet he seemed to be the only [Priest] or [Priestess] of Xaoc that she could find, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask Xaoc Himself about her path. Finally, she had caved and approached the young (still not young) [Priest] and, surprise surprise, she was already regretting it.

  “Fine, fine, you’re not in the mood. I can take a hint! Meet me at the bench behind the temple shortly.” The [Priest] in service to Xaoc offered before he vanished into the back part of the temple.

  Ranthia paused to kneel in front of one of the unoccupied altars to her god and allowed Him to take part of her mana, though she didn’t actually do much more than greet Xaoc, before she rose and made her way out to the bench.

  The wait was on the cusp of becoming obnoxious when the man finally plopped onto the bench next to Ranthia and handed her a wineskin. Ranthia took a drink from it while he waited with a serene smile for her to begin.

  “I’m struggling to decide my path from here.” Ranthia began, suddenly self-conscious.

  “Most people begin that process with a map. Many couriers keep decent ones that customers may examine for a small fee.” The [Priest] answered.

  “Please, this is important.” Ranthia had so many regrets already.

  “Very well, I shall grant you my utmost attention and shall strive to be as serious and helpful as any man possibly ever could be. Up to 80% focused!” He offered with a broad, yet benevolent smile.

  “Gods and goddesses, why couldn’t I find another [Priest] or [Priestess]?” Ranthia grumbled.

  “Shit timing, probably.” The young (practically middle-aged) man answered with a sage nod.

  Sure enough, Ranthia was all but certain that she could hear another [Priest] welcome a family to the temple while she tried to summon the willpower required to continue to deal with seeking advice from the whimsical [Priest] she was stuck with.

  “Okay, fine. Just listen for a bit, I’ll tell you when you can talk, okay? I love being an Adventurer, it fits me, it’s comfortable. But at the same time, I feel like I’m stagnating. I lo—enjoy my time with my girlfriend… at least when she has time for me, and my home is amazing. But I don’t get out there and explore anymore, not really.

  “I was offered an opportunity to join the Rangers, but I can’t figure out if that sounds like me. It’s a commitment and I just… I don’t know. It shakes up the monotony that I’ve fallen into, but is it truly a path forward?

  “As is, I constantly worry that I’m not doing enough to add chaos to our world. Xaoc’s never turned His back to me when I pray to Him, but… Am I disappointing Him? If I become a Ranger I might have even less opportunity to add a bit of chaos, since I’d be an ‘official’.

  “I just… I don’t even know how to think about this opportunity.”

  Ranthia finished her surge of rapid-fire concerns then sighed. She looked to the [Priest] who watched her with rapt attention. After a moment she realized what he was waiting for and gestured for him to speak.

  So, of course, the man instead seemed to collapse inward into deep thought. Ranthia was on the cusp of cursing at him when he suddenly spoke.

  “Do you know what I’d call someone who unleashed chaos every single day?”

  “Fun at parties?” Ranthia quipped in a dry tone.

  The [Priest] blinked, considered her words, then nodded.

  “Okay, do you know what would be among the earliest things I said about such a person?” He amended.

  Ranthia just gestured for him to continue, certain that whatever she guessed would somehow be wrong.

  “Orderly.” The young [Priest] concluded.

  Ranthia just kind of blinked owlishly at him while she tried to make sense of the aspersion. How in Xaoc’s name…?!

  “I thought I would have to explain. You seem somewhat slow for someone so thoroughly fondled by great Xaoc.” He blew right past her angry objections and continued. “Chaos isn’t something that can be scheduled, not consistently. Sure, a bit of premeditation can add chaos to the world, but much of it is grasping opportunities as they arise. But someone who inflicts measured chaos on a schedule? Someone that grasps every single opportunity? They’re not chaotic—they embraced predictablenessocity. Honestly, such a person is practically a politician.”

  Ranthia opened her mouth to argue, but she shut it and forced herself to truly consider his words. She was mostly certain that he wasn’t trying to just rile her up—sacrilegious sexual harassment jokes aside—but it was hard to consider. Chaos… orderly?

  The [Priest] watched with naked amusement while she grappled with the contradiction. It boiled at her blood, but a lot of what he said rang true. Chaos couldn’t become routine, or it was no longer chaos. But what of the effects that it wrought, would that still hold true if each bit of chaos had a different impact?

  Maybe. Ranthia landed on a maybe. She was about to voice her thought processes when he spoke again.

  “Chaos is best delivered through whim and whimsy, I say. And if you think an official can’t unleash some damned impressive chaos, well, you need to work on your imagination. Or pay more attention to the political landscape.”

  “You’re really fixated on politics right now, aren’t you?” Ranthia asked wryly.

  “I have a list of senators that I suspect might secretly be agents of Xaoc. Would you like to hear my unrehearsed theories? I bet I could keep you here until dawn.”

  “Gods no. Fine, I’ll try to stop fretting about the chaos I add to the world, but what about the rest?”

  “Everyone adds a bit of chaos every day, even if you can’t see it. That’s part of life; never forget Xaoc had a hand in the creation of our people. That said, as for the rest… I have no advice!” Why did he seem to be proud of that?!

  “Seriously?” Ranthia glowered.

  “Young lady, I’ll have you know that I have never been serious a day in my life.” Was the smug response that she received.

  Ranthia glared until he finally rolled his eyes and relented.

  “Ugh, if I have to be boring about it: I don’t know enough to help you. I know you believe there’s some dramatic difference between Adventurers and Rangers, but for me—a thoroughly urbanized being—they’re basically the same damned thing. You’re paid to solve problems others can’t; the only difference is who’s footing the bill. And that’s about all I know.

  “Frankly, I doubt Xaoc gives a single fragrant buttfruit which path you walk. Find choice opportunities for some enriching chaos and you’re golden, simple as that. Don’t seek a higher power on this one; get your focus back down to Pallos. Consult your friends or your lovers or whomever tolerates you to some extent if you’re as unlikable as I suspect.” The [Priest] took back the wineskin and drank heavily from it, before he offered it back to her.

  Ranthia took it and drank heavily as she forced herself to admit the man—once again—had a point. She might not be able to make up her mind until she finally got to spend some godsdamned time with her girlfriend. And… that was fine, wasn’t it? The whole point of a relationship was making the big decisions as a team.

  “Alright, fair enough. …I am grateful for your advice, even if you were an asshole. And, of course, I appreciate the wine.” Ranthia finally offered with a grin that was only slightly forced.

  “No problem. You gave me some time to get some fresh air, if nothing else. As for the wine, I just drained a bit from the cask we were going to offer to Xaoc during the evening’s services, so direct your gratitude to Him.” The [Priest] casually confessed.

  “You… WHAT?!”

  “Relax! His faithful sharing the wine is mostly just as good as Him having it for Himself.” The young (fully adult) [Priest] promised, before he reached over to try to pat Ranthia on the head.

  In a fit of absolute maturity in the face of her outrage, Ranthia bit his hand.

  At long, long last Hexara finally had a day off. Ranthia was curious about what had changed that had her girlfriend so busy, but instead Ranthia promised to avoid talking about work. Hexara arrived bright and early at Ranthia’s place, and they focused just on enjoying one another’s company. Ranthia had purchased a delightfully scented oil (spicy cinnamon!) and happily gave her girlfriend some tender affectionate care, starting with the best full body massage she could give. Ranthia had no Skills for it, but she had learned a lot of tricks from Sunrise.

  After the massage and other acts of intimacy and affection, Ranthia splurged on ordering food from the Owl’s Sanctuary for lunch. Neither of them felt much like getting dressed and going out, after all. Though the fact that the food was good enough that Ranthia was starting to consider the price reasonable was terrifying. She was so determined to not let money change her!

  It toed the line for her promise, in Ranthia’s eyes, but Ranthia finally spoke while they ate their grilled lamb.

  “I… wanted to get your opinion about something.” Ranthia led in.

  “Mm, this must be important. You’ve been spoiling me so hard I was half expecting you to ask me to marry you.” Hexara teased playfully.

  Ranthia blushed a deep scarlet but pushed forward.

  “Well, no, but it does affect my—our—future.”

  Ranthia was thrilled to see her girlfriend’s face blush, even as Hexara hurriedly refilled her wine goblet.

  “The Guildmaster asked a group of us to consider joining Remus’ Rangers…” Ranthia trailed off as she tried to figure out how she wanted to summarize it.

  “I think you should go for it.” Hexara immediately replied, before Ranthia could continue.

  Ranthia kind of stared blankly at her very [Sexy] girlfriend for several long moments before she remembered to use her words.

  “Wait, really? I mean, I’ll be around even less than I already am. They have some sort of training camp that takes two years, plus each round as a Ranger is two years away from Ariminum.”

  “Yeah, the time apart… isn’t great, but the important thing is you’d be safe. Rangers are a whole team! A few of my clients are in relationships with Rangers and they make it work, I’m sure we can figure that out too. And besides, didn’t you once say that A-Ranked Adventurers were practically equal to the Sentinels? You might be able to skip some of the training if that’s true.

  “But the important thing is you wouldn’t be alone out there. I wouldn’t lose sleep worrying about whether or not you were safe. You’d have a full team at your back and Rangers are supposed to be unbeatable. You would be much safer as a Ranger than you are as an Adventurer.”

  Guilt wormed into Ranthia; she hadn’t quite realized how hard Hexara took her occupation sometimes. Her heart ached to know that her girlfriend had lost sleep worrying over her safety.

  Ranthia reached out and Hexara slid her hands into Ranthia’s. Hexara’s hands were so warm and so soft… Ranthia exhaled slowly and collected her thoughts. Honestly, she had doubts about whether or not being a Ranger was any safer. The death rate of experienced Adventurers was lower than one might expect, due in large part to being able to choose jobs that they believed they could handle. Rangers, on the other hand, often had far less flexibility to choose jobs that fit their skillsets. Though she did have to admit, Hexara had a point about the value of a real team.

  Tatius and Pupius had covered for one another’s weaknesses and vulnerabilities, and her own budding abilities had further improved the balance of their team (gods and goddesses, she still wished that they had gotten to see how her skillset improved). Yes, [Scattered Reflections], as empowered by her other 7 class skills, was a downright absurd ability. So long as she stowed her true body somewhere safe, she was almost untouchable unless she was killed outright before she could react. But that ‘if’ was a hell of a limitation. With another group, especially a relatively large one that knew and trusted one another implicitly…

  She might just be safer, even with the loss of agency.

  “There’s a lot of reasons to do it, but I’d miss you…” Ranthia whispered.

  They kissed.

  “I’ll be here when you’re around; I’m not going anywhere. And we’re both still young! Two years for your training thing—that I still bet you’ll be able to visit me during—and then two years on the road; it’s almost nothing. And who knows, maybe I’ll start training myself so if I fail to convince you to stick around after that I could follow you around and be a hanger-on that helps keep you as [Sexy] as possible.” Hexara suggested playfully. She was focused and passionate at the beginning, but she was clearly joking by the end.

  Ranthia stole a piece of lamb off Hexara’s platter while she considered it, enjoying her girlfriend’s playful protests until she fed Hexara a piece off her own plate. It was a lot to consider, but her girlfriend made some great points.

  She was really leaning towards doing it.

  So, it turned out that Hexara had been so busy because she was collecting favors. Ranthia continued taking jobs—though maybe less obviously risky ones—until the time finally came. Hexara had taken eight days in a row off for work, culminating in Ranthia’s birthday.

  At first it was just more time spent together, which was incredible. It was a taste of what life could be like for them and Ranthia was hooked. They just had fun and took in entertainment around Ariminum. Ranthia had assumed the slice of bliss was her birthday present, up until the actual day.

  It turned out that Hexara had finally gotten over her embarrassment about her interest in the brothel and her… transactional friendship with Sunrise. The two had collaborated and planned for Ranthia’s birthday itself.

  The day was incredible, unforgettable, and excessively debauched.

  The only downside was Ranthia didn’t have anyone she could brag about it to! Everyone that she had the tiniest bit of interest in sharing anything about such aspects of her life with had been involved! …And then some!

  Ranthia had always known that Hexara was amazing, but by Xaoc she had outdone herself!

  “It’s not like you to be late.” The Guildmaster chided the instant Ranthia arrived in his office.

  Ranthia’s hair was a mess, her tunic was tousled, and she wasn’t even slightly convinced that the scented ointments and oils hid the olfactory evidence of what she had been up to.

  “Um, sorry, it was my birthday and…” Ranthia trailed off, unwilling to further explain.

  She had no idea if the Guildmaster’s expression meant he wanted her to explain how that could excuse her tardiness or if it meant he had no interest in hearing an excuse. She chose to assume the latter.

  “Anyway, I’ve decided… I’ll do it. I’ll become a Ranger.” Ranthia announced confidently.

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  Nozomi Matsuoka.

  Sarah "Neila" Elkins.