Chapter 7 - Greatness Awaits (Patreon)

“Is there anything you want to do in particular?” I wondered, staring at the side of Nigel’s head.

“You live here. What’s fun?” he responded with a smile.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I usually hunt or practice sword fighting. I don’t really—”

I tripped.

Nigel caught my shoulder. “Whoa there! Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine!” I stuttered quickly.

“It’s your hair, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely not,” I lied. Because it definitely was. It was like walking through the world while staring through a black piece of paper with tiny slits cut out of it. I hadn’t gotten used to it since giving myself the style. Every part of me wanted to trim the shit, but then everyone would see my eyes. It wasn’t like I could wear a blindfold in public. That’d be more suspicious if anything.

“Okay,” chimed Nigel, clearly skeptical. “Come on! There has to be something here you like! Every place has its customs and shops. Even woodworkers here are different from those in other towns. Sure, they do the same job, but they’re different people. That’s the beauty of traveling! So much to do, so much to see!”

I couldn’t understand his enthusiasm. In practice, I could comprehend his words. Even using his example, one woodcutter might prefer to chop all his wood first and then haul it in several trips, while another might choose to cut as much as he can carry, haul that load, and then return to work. It depended on the individual. But at the end of the day, they were still chopping wood.

“You seem like someone with a lot of friends,” I chimed, recognizing his superior optimism and social skills compared to myself.

“I try to make one or two every place I visit,” replied Nigel with a smile. He nudged me. “One down!”

For some reason, I wanted to trip him.

“You like swords, right?” he followed up. “Why don’t we go into town and look at some?”

“I already have a new one. I don’t have a codex or coins even if I did,” I argued. “What would be the point?”

“It’s fun to look at cool things even if you don’t buy them, isn’t it?”

We glanced at each other as if the other person lacked an essential aspect of humanity. To be fair, Nigel’s view was likely more accurate than my own.

“If that’ll make you happy.” I muscled up a smile. This was honestly the first time I’ve socialized with someone outside of my family. I mean, I played with some kids before my ears got revealed, but it wasn’t complex or stressful. They didn’t talk much and only wanted to play. It was a good excuse for me to run around and get some exercise. I was all for it.

I don’t think I’m interesting enough to talk to. I felt as I watched Nigel bound ahead, leading the way toward the blacksmith, even though I was supposedly showing him around. If I didn’t hide so much about my past, I’d be far more interesting. But what should I say? I died, lost my memories, got sent to these lands by some sarcastic bitch of a God, was born an archdevil, watched my parents die, grew up in a small town, got hated by everyone for looks I couldn’t control, started growing horns, then awakened with white eyes. Anyways, how’s your day going?

I was so stuck in my head I didn’t even notice Nigel talking to me.

“My brother came by here the day after we arrived,” said Nigel as we passed the blacksmith. We’d finally arrived in the town’s central—and only—market. “He said the stuff here was good quality and affordable even with the town’s size.”

A burly older man with large muscles was hammering away at the forge. The noises were loud, but he heard Nigel speaking through the rhythmic banging. His head flicked up. “What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t think a small town like this can produce shit that’s worth a damn?”

“N-No! That’s not what I meant!” Nigel immediately became defensive and flustered. He lowered his head. “H-He was just surprised, is all. That such a good store was in this small town, you know?”

“What’s the difference, brat?”

“I don’t know what to say!” shouted Nigel.

Harkin snorted. He glanced at me. “You walking around with this little shit?”

“Yup,” I replied.

“What for?” asked the blacksmith. He smiled at Nigel. “You fancy the girl, lad?”

“Wh-What?!”

“Poor Quintin’s gonna kill yah when he finds out. Bet he didn’t think he’d ever have to deal with this type of thing.”

“Deal with what kind of thing?” I asked in a cold voice.

Harkin flinched. “Nothing, girl.”

I dropped it, but I knew what he meant. The odds of me finding love in this town, if I ever wanted that, were basically zero. But that was a future problem if a problem at all. I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest.

Harkin continued to grill Nigel. I couldn’t blame him. Nigel made a lot of funny faces, and his reactions were incredible. He didn’t have much self-confidence. It was no wonder Barcus left him behind. I couldn’t imagine Nigel attacking something in earnest. He seemed very weak. Nice, but weak.

“Let me end your suffering,” I said as Nigel frantically tried to escape the situation. I grabbed his arm and started pulling him away from the store. “I’m hungry. Let’s get bread. You can make your codex, right?”

“O-Oh.” Nigel was stunned. He glanced at how I was holding, peeked back at Harkin, shook his head, and allowed me to keep pulling him. “I can.”

“And you have coins?”

“I do.” He paused. “Is this bread good?”

“Very good.”

Moments later, we were sharing a loaf while leaning up against a wall in a small alley in town. Nigel rambled on about his sword training. I focused wholly on the fluffy white loaf I was stuffing in my mouth. Hints of honey danced on my tongue as I enjoyed the fluffy mess.

“You like to eat, huh?” questioned Nigel once he realized I wasn’t listening.

“It’s either that or die,” I replied bluntly without looking at him. “If I could go without it, I probably would. Very inconvenient.”

“Oh. Are you full?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not.” Nigel snatched the loaf from me mid-bite. “You’ve eaten all you needed. I’m still hungry. I deserve it.”

“H-hey!” My fingers reached out for my food.

“I thought you didn’t like eating?”

I blushed slightly. “It’s delicious, though.”

Nigel recoiled. “Oh wow.”

“W-What?”

“Your ears light up when you get embarrassed.” He tapped my ear. “Red right on the tips.”

I snatched my bread back in his moment of folly and stuffed the rest of it in my mouth, victorious.

Nigel just stared at me.

I felt myself begin to choke.

“You need some water?”

I nodded rapidly.

After I survived the bread, Nigel pulled me back into town. He pointed at places and asked questions. I gradually realized that every time I said, “I don’t know” or “I’m not sure,” he had a tidbit of information to tell me.

It was how I knew I was definitely missing something within myself. I didn’t give a damn about a single thing he was saying. Seemed like an absolute waste of time.

“You know, you mutter to yourself a lot,” said Nigel, once again breaking me from my thoughts. “You prefer time by yourself, don’t you? People aren’t really your thing.”

“Why?” My eyes narrowed. “Because I don’t know anyone or anything?”

“Kind of,” admitted Nigel. “Not that it’s a bad thing. Like I kind of said before, the world’s full of all kinds of people. That’s what makes it interesting.”

All I could do was frown. I didn’t even acknowledge his words. We just kept walking.

It’s weird. Conceptually, I know what it’s like to feel happiness or sadness, but those emotions just don’t reach me. I realized. My past me must have felt those things because I can remember what it means to be happy, but I can’t actually feel it. It’s like my soul has a glass wall in front of it, keeping it out of reach of anything raw or real. I didn’t realize this before. Have I felt anything at all this decade? I paused, glancing at Nigel out of the corner of my eyes. Maybe that’s really why I went out with this child today. So I could get some hints from him.

A part of me wanted to blame Eve. It felt like I was overthinking things, which was entirely possible. At the same time, I kept noticing little things. I was cognizant of others. I could barely remember their faces. The only people I had a relationship with in any form were people who gave me stuff, provided me services, or cared for me. I didn’t have an interest in anyone and certainly didn’t reciprocate. Even the devils I’ve seen weren’t really people in my eyes. They were examples I was trying to imitate. Nothing more. I—

Something wet touched the back of my neck. I immediately shrieked and bolted forward.

The back of my neck was damp with water. The entire top part of my shirt was soaked.

Nigel smiled at me. Water glistened on his palm. “Paying attention now?”

“Yo-yo-you….you asshole!” I shouted. “Why would you do that?!”

“Saying your name didn’t help, and you kept ignoring me,” whined Nigel with a playful grin. “I hate being ignored. Hurts my feelings.”

“But—”

A villager stepped in between us and faced me. Her arms crossed her chest, and she wore a haughty grin though fear dotted her eyes. “Get away from him, you little bastard,” the woman growled.

I flinched, but I wasn’t surprised. I recognized the woman. She was one of the people who kept calling me a “monster” under her breath whenever I was out with my parents. Her name was Annette, and she was a right bitch.

“I wasn’t—”

“Step back, devil!” Annette raised her hand. Tiny flames flickered between her fingers. “Make another move toward the boy, and I’ll slap yah!”

I paused. My gaze was trained on her fingers. She’s a threat. I need to kill her. The thought hit me instantly, surprising me.

“Hi!” Nigel peeked out from behind the woman, put his hand on her arm, guided it down, and smiled in her face. “How about you mind your own fucking business?”

Annette and I both flinched.

“You—” started the woman.

“Yen is my friend. You’re bothering us. Go away.” Nigel shooed her off.

“I-I never!”

Nigel grabbed my arm and started pulling me away. He then froze. Sighing, he turned back to the woman. “I’m sorry. You don’t know better, and you’re not very cultured. My brother says that to rude people sometimes. He says…if they’d grown up somewhere else, maybe they wouldn’t suck. I’m sorry you turned out like this.” He bowed reverently. “The world is bigger than this village. Be more open to stuff. You’ll be happier.” He turned on his heel, grabbed my elbow, and guided me away again.

“You said you’re twelve?” I muttered as we walked away.

Nigel grinned. “Strict parents. Lots of reading. Lots of traveling. Nosy brother.” He paused. “But it sounded cool, didn’t it?”

I was about to ask him something else, but a strange prickling sensation crawled across my skin—like I was being watched too closely.

The next moment, Nigel disappeared from my side.

I smacked right into something large and tough.

I looked up at the source: a devil. He was a massive beast devil. Behind him, a forest devil and a brown-haired woman in lewd clothing looked down at me.

Turning my neck, I saw Quintin standing with a smiling adventurer and a dreary-looking one at this side.

The smiling guy was holding Nigel by the collar of his shirt as he squirmed. “Whoa there, little brother. Very dramatic show back there.”

“I don’t think I did anything wrong,” argued Nigel. “And I apologized anyways, didn’t I?”

The smiling man, Barcus, clicked his teeth. “I was joking. Relax. The apology wasn’t even necessary. Believe me. If you can even call that an apology.” He seemed more impressed than angry. His gaze drifted to me. “I see you made a friend.” He looked back at Nigel and raised an eyebrow. “I tell you there’s a cute devil girl your age in town, and you go running toward her the first chance you get.” He let Nigel go and ruffled his hair. “I am so proud of you! Guess it runs in the family, huh?”

“N-No!” stuttered Nigel. “It’s not what you think…”

But that’s precisely what I think he did. That’s what he told me. Barcus talked about him, and Quintin said it was okay, so he ran out to find me. That is literally what happened. Not that I mind. After that confrontation with Annette, he’s okay in my books.

Quintin, standing beside Barcus, narrowed his eyes at Nigel. He didn’t even look at me. Uh oh. The eyes of a defensive father. I didn’t think I’d ever see that from him. It warmed my heart, honestly.

“How did yah two meet up then?” asked Quintin calmly.

“I found him while wandering through town,” I lied. The real story seemed rather creepy when I thought about it, even though Nigel was an innocent person at heart, from what I could tell. So I changed the subject. “You all went on a dangerous adventure, huh?” I directed my words at Barcus. “Did you guys get what you were looking for? What happened? What did you do?” My eyes were probably sparkling as I spoke.

“Yeah, we did well. Confirmed and finished it in my codex.” Barcus glanced at Nigel. “Now we can focus on your training for the next month. Get you some real-world experience. How’s that sound?” He grinned. “Or would you rather play with the girl the whole time?”

“N-No! I want to fight!” defended Nigel immediately.

“Oh. I suppose I’m too boring to want to be around. I understand,” I said with a sigh, laying it on thick. “Why would you want to spend time with me when you don’t have to?”

“I-I’ll still spend time with you!” said Nigel. “Promise!”

“What about your training?” interjected Barcus.

Nigel’s gaze bounced between me and Barcus. He looked as if he was being drawn and quartered by a horse.

I laughed first. Barcus followed. The rest of the group chuckled at Nigel’s expense, causing his face to burn bright red.

“I’d say you could join us, but you haven’t awakened yet, have you?” Barcus looked at me. I glanced away. “If you did, Quintin would have talked about it the whole. Your old man’s a proud daddy.”

Quintin scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, Yen.”

“No, not yet,” I lied. “Someday.”

I could feel Nigel’s eyes on me, but I ignored him. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything about me awakening. Me saying I hadn’t told my parents yet must have run through his mind. It was good to know he could at least keep a secret.

“If it happens while we’re here, we wouldn’t mind including you. Nigel could use the competition. I’m pretty good at teaching people how to use a sword, and Jessie’s basically a professor,” said Barcus. “With some stark differences,” he added after a moment. “You good with that?” he asked the woman in question.

Barcus’s party, the Trail Blazers, consisted of five people in total. I’d met them all a handful of times throughout the year, though not for very long. Still, I was comfortable with them, and they were the same with me.

Including Barcus, there was Jessie, Garreth, Bydon, and Tart. Garreth and Jessie were humans. Bydon was a beast devil, and Tart was a forest devil. They were a unique-looking group, to say the least.

Garreth looked to be about twenty. He was usually armed with a large knife and a rapier that he, like most people, kept secured inside his codex. Given his weapon choices and light armor, he was likely a practitioner of the Warring style, focused on speed and quick kills. He had long, black hair and a scar that ran from his left cheek to the right side of his forehead, just above his hairline. He also had the shadow of a beard on his face and never smiled. I’d rarely heard him talk, either.

Bydon was a massive man. He wore heavy armor and fought with a giant bastard sword about six feet in length. In contrast to Garreth, Bydon was always smiling. He was dark-skinned with bushy hair. A black wolf’s tail sprouted out his backside, and matching ears twitched at the top of his head. The guy was handsome in a beastly way. He was always kind to me because I was a fellow devil. We hadn’t talked much, though.

Tart was a tall, thin woman with flowing blonde hair. A set of large daggers was usually her go-to weapon, from what I’ve seen. Light robes clung to her body. She wore leather armor on her legs, wrists, and chest. Barcus pointed out that she was a forest devil the first time I met her years ago, but she ignored and dismissed me. It was honestly the norm, as far as relationships with other forest devils went.

The final member of Barcus’s little party was Jessie. She was a short woman in tight, thin robes with a magnificent staff strapped to her back. She also wore a floppy, wide-brimmed hat that completely shaded her face. The sides of her legs popped out of her robes since they were intentionally cut to reveal them, and she had a sizable chest that she made sure everyone could see. Her appearance sometimes caused fights among the village boys during her past few visits. Not many people looked or acted like her in town. And she did have a type. Young and virile. Or so the rumors said.

Jessie looked at me. She considered Barcus’s words about training me. Her gaze flicked to Tart. “You don’t think Tart can do it? Never mind. You’re right. We want people to think we’re good at what we do.”

Tart’s eyebrow twitched.

“Kidding!” Jessie smiled. She nudged Tart from the side. “Tart’s competent. Most of the time.”

My eyes moved between the two women. Why do they always act like this with each other?

“Given what you are, I have no doubt you’ll be strong when you awaken. Forest devils are naturally gifted with higher mana. You might even awaken with better eyes than me.” Jessie crouched in front of me. I dipped my head slightly and narrowed my gaze so she wouldn’t see that they were white. “I’d be honored to teach you if that turns out to be true. Maybe you’ll join the party in a few years, and I won’t be so outnumbered by witless warriors.”

“Oh?” Barcus made a surprised noise. “And which one of those ‘witless warriors’ carried you for half a day to the nearest town when you broke your ankle during an ambush?”

Jessie smiled sheepishly. “You liked it.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Fine, fine. I was only joking.” Jessie’s gaze turned serious. “I’d train anyone if they had potential.” Her eyes glowed with energy, making their violet color flare. The rings around her fingers and the marks around her wrist matched the color of her eyes.

The woman was powerful. The team consisted of three individuals with violet eyes: Barcus, Bydon, and Jessie. Tart and Garreth both had green eyes, like my father.

Though all of them had rings on all their fingers, signifying a basic understanding of the four elements, Jessie was the only person I’d ever met with an additional ring on her finger—one signifying an enhanced mastery of wind. At least, that’s what Quintin told me.

“If you have the talent, I will make you flourish. If not, I’d send you on to Barcus to swing a weapon around while screaming,” Jessie teased. “Or you can imitate Tart and not really practice either, getting by with pure luck and the abilities of your betters.”

“Screw this,” muttered Tart. She walked away from the group into the inn. “I’m getting a drink.”

“Oh? Very surprising, dear,” Jessie called after her.

It was an interaction I’d seen many times before. They got along like water and oil, but they’d been together for years. I was never around them for more than a few minutes, so their relationship must have been more complex than those awkward little exchanges.

“I’d say be nice to each other, but that never works out,” said Barcus with a sigh. “Kiss and make up later, okay?”

“We always do,” quipped Jessie. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drink and read a book. Alone,” she stressed. Her eyes wandered to me, and she smiled. She reached out to touch my head, but I deftly avoided her. “Oh?”

“Does it to me too,” said Quintin, annoyed.

“She’s at that age. Oh well.” Jessie patted Nigel’s head. He jerked in surprise, and his face turned red. “Her reaction probably wouldn’t have been as good as his anyway.” She walked into the inn. “Ta taaaa!”

What a weird group of people…

The rest of the group followed her inside. With nothing else to do and the day growing short, Quintin and I headed home. Nigel asked if he could see me tomorrow, and I gave a light “sure” before Quintin began pushing me home.

Halfway to our house, I began to fidget.

The conversation with Barcus and Jessie reminded me how much I wanted and needed to learn to use my mana. That wouldn’t happen unless I revealed to someone that my eyes had turned white. Honestly, it was a miracle no one had spotted them yet. I did a good job looking away and hiding them with my hair, but there were too many close calls. Sooner or later, someone would notice. I needed to reveal what I was intentionally, eventually, rather than let it be a surprise.

Taking in a deep breath, I decided on an approach that would help me save face, just in case. “Dad.”

“Yeah?” Quintin responded immediately.

“How much can someone’s mana jump when they awaken?”

“Depends. From what I’ve seen, most people awaken with green or brown eyes. I heard Jessie awoke with violet, but Bydon and Barcus worked to get theirs to that color. It depends on the person,” said Quintin. “Luck and destiny play a big part, too.”

“How so?”

Quintin glanced at me. “It’s a part of the Pantheon’s gospel. A theory about the codex everyone gets when they awaken.”

I frowned. A beat passed, and then, “Has anyone ever awakened with white eyes?”

“Probably. I’ve never heard of it, but anything’s possible. Why’re you asking?”

“J-Just by the inn…while you were out…I was…curious,” I stressed, trying to act like a scared child afraid of punishment. “There’s still so much I don’t know, you know?”

Quintin sighed. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but thanks for the reminder, Yen. I told you not to go near there without me. Not until you’ve awakened and trained a little. Barcus and his group are nice, but adventurers come in all shapes and sizes. Some might try to take a girl like you.”

“What? Pretty?”

“And a devil. So please do what I ask, okay?” he stressed. “The world isn’t safe for you.”

“But I was with Nigel.”

“…that’s not much better than being by yourself, from what I’ve seen.”

Quintin and I passed the fence to our home. I took a deep breath and stopped. He kept moving, but when Quintin noticed I was no longer beside him, he stopped and turned to me.

“Something wrong?”

“I have to show you something,” I said. “And I’m sorry ahead of time for keeping it from you for so long.”

I lifted my bangs, looked at Quintin directly in his eyes, and flooded my body with mana.

Quintin’s entire body froze.

-----

•

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The following day was…weird.

Quintin hummed to himself at the kitchen table. His eyes were closed, and a permanent smile marred his face. He looked at me with overwhelming joy. Likewise, Amalia whistled as she made breakfast. Both were in tune as they happily harmonized the same song.

I was going to barf.

Quintin screamed and hugged me when I showed him my eyes. After that, he ran inside and showed me off to Amalia before I could process what had happened. Both started crying and hugging me. I did my best not to poke them with the very tiny horns hidden within my hair, but even when they did, I don’t think either of my parents noticed. They were too excited.

It was now morning, and they had calmed down significantly, but not enough for my liking.

“You’re going to change the world,” said Quintin. “It’s destiny. My daughter is going to change the world.”

“Honey, don’t put so much pressure on her,” said Amalia. She moved around with a skillet of food and began platting us. She gave me a bigger portion of meat than usual. “Eat up.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. At least I can cut my stupid hair now. I think.

“You have a strong destiny,” said Quintin. “The Gods have made it so! See?! Devils, humans, it doesn’t matter! The Gods see everyone as equal. Why else would you be given such great power?” He slapped his hand on the table happily. “Isn’t this wonderful?!”

They both began speaking religious-type dribble since they saw my eyes. The world was based on “strong stories,” said the Pantheon religion, and those with world-changing destinies would have stronger stories and power.

I clapped my hands together like I was praying, then folded them open toward me to reveal both my palms. Mana concentrated in my hands, and a book appeared.

It was my personal codex.

I closed the pages and flipped to the cover, which was a brilliant white color to reflect my eyes. The time of day was also etched into the top right corner of the book, and the date into the left. My name, Yennifer, was printed at the bottom in big letters. There was no surname since I wasn’t a noble and didn’t come from a noble family. And finally, right dead in the middle was a white circle indicating my ability to draw mana at the highest level.

The book contained general information about my life, allowing me to organize tasks, plan for the future, keep a record of events that happened to me, and store important items.

Each codex essentially had an endless number of pages. They appeared to have a few dozen pages, but nobody could flip to the end or beginning of their codex no matter how long they tried. No one could read another person’s codex either. Unless the owner wanted specific people to see what was written, the pages looked blank to anyone else.

The codex also disappeared unless its owner wanted someone else to look at it and hold it. For the owner, however, opening the book offered insight into what someone owned, how much money they had, and what they knew. It was condensed, summarized, and presented to the codex owner’s preferences.

In terms of finance, the codex acted as a bank containing all the coins and transactions a person undertook throughout their lifetime. Pages could be removed from the codex and assigned a value, allowing coins to be accessed and distributed to other people.

In theory, I could assign a set amount of coins to a sheet of paper, remove it from my codex, and hand it to someone. If the person I gave the page to added it to their codex through their hand or by adding it to their pages, the coins would be transferred to them. If I intended it for someone or something specific, the amount would only be accessible if the codex page was accessed by that particular person or if certain criteria were met once logged into the codex.

Items could also be fed into the book for later use. Doing so stored the item in a separate space, accessible only via the codex. To test it out, I placed a comb inside first. When I wanted to access the item, I thought about it, turned a page in my codex, and a hand-drawn version of it appeared on the very next page with a written description of the item, its quality, history, and value.

The amount someone could hold within their codex depended on their mana supply. Usually, in the storage section, there’d be a “1/40” or similar kind of number sequence indicating how many items someone could hold within their codex. Some items took up more than one space, but that was dependent on several factors that I wouldn’t have to worry about. After all, I didn’t have a limit in mine because of my eyes from what I saw. It was probably the best benefit I could have asked for. Merchants would kill to have that ability, and it was something I had immediately upon awakening. With help.

Coins and items could be exchanged between different people’s codexes. That was how most contracts in this world worked—by assigning and distributing codex pages. It made transactions fair and easily enforceable. The Guild took advantage of this system better than anyone else.

The codex also served as a recorder of past events as well as a task list and schedule. If I wanted to recall a particular event, all I needed to do was think about it then turn the page, and my codex would be filled with notes recalling what happened from my perspective. It also generated summaries of knowledge I’d learned. For example, if I’d seen a type of animal or recipe before, that information would be generated on a page for me to read if I wanted or needed it.

“I’ve always wanted to try this,” I said as I grabbed a page from my codex. I pulled it out, and my intent was printed on the page like a written contract. I handed it to Quintin. “I’m giving you back all the coins I made.”

Amalia and Quintin stopped what they were doing to stare at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Why would you do that?” asked Quintin slowly. He’d been holding all the coins I’d made from hunting the past few years and had only recently given me them earlier that morning.

“I want to hire Barcus and his party to train me,” I explained. Cocking my head to the side as innocently as possible, I forced a confused expression on my face. “They did offer yesterday, didn’t they? They also seem fine with devils since there are two in their party, and there’s someone around my age to train with. It’s kind of like fate, isn’t it?”

Quintin grabbed the codex page from me. It looked like a typical, worn sheet of paper, but it glowed with a soft golden aura around the edges, brightening it. He opened his codex, held the sheet over it, and my contract inserted itself inside with the rest of his pages.

Instantly, I felt the “exchange” finalize inside myself and suddenly knew what had happened: that my codex had been updated and the amount of money I had decreased. It was a different sensation from when I “remembered” skills from my past life. Instead, it felt more like a reminder than something being jammed permanently into my mind.

“Oh, cool, it worked,” I said with little excitement. “Lucky me.”

Quintin fumbled to open his codex. “I’ll give it back to you.”

“No, that’s alright, I’ll—”

“But—”

“I’ll tear any sheet you try to give me,” I said. Doing so would return the contents to its original creator. “It’s my decision. I don’t want you guys to pay for it. You’ve done enough to raise and support me. I have the money. I’m paying.” I paused and sheepishly scratched the back of my head. “Hopefully its enough.”

Quintin and Amalia were quiet. I could see from their conflicted faces that they didn’t want to take the coins, but I could also tell they knew I was serious and that I wouldn’t take them back.

“This might be enough to pay Jessie to train you. And Barcus. They’re both strong. Stronger than me, and…I agree with your reasons,” said Quintin after a while. “I don’t have the knowledge or skills to train you the way you need to be trained. Not now, at least, with what’s happened.”

I stared at him. After all, I cared for him in my own psychopathic way, but I agreed with him, too. “Are you sure?”

“Depends.” Quintin looked at Amalia. “You okay with the idea?”

In a move entirely out of character, Amalia nodded. “Yes. I think it’s a great idea. Barcus seems competent.”

“He is and his team’s one of the better adventurer groups to come through here since I moved in,” said Quintin. “I think it’d be a good idea to have her train and work with them while they’re here this month. That way, I can supervise her while they teach her things I can’t. I’m a little lacking…”

Amalia and I sighed. We both hated it when he put himself down like that.

“You’ll learn a lot from that crew. They’re good people, and they like teaching kids about mana. Barcus says it helps them build the reputation he wants, so he goes out of his way to do it on purpose,” explained Quintin. “And them training Nigel is convenient for you.” He frowned. “You like that boy, right?”

“He seems like he’d be a good friend. He didn’t make fun of my ears and treated me like an equal,” I replied.

Quintin nodded. “Good.”

Amalia leaned in and whispered into Quintin’s ear. “How old? Twelve, right?”

“Yup,” Quintin whispered back.

“And?”

“Other boys aren’t nice to her, and he is. They’ll be training together for a while.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll be keeping my eyes on him.”

“What do you think is going to happen?” I interjected. “I’m ten. We’re children.”

“And I was thirteen when I first started *ahem* exploring,” said Quintin.

“I was fourteen,” added Amalia. “Just be careful, okay?”

I could have gone my whole life without ever knowing this. I thought.

“The boy’s only a year younger than I was,” mentioned my father. “Just be conscious of him, okay? Boys think differently than girls about these kinds of things even if you don’t.”

I rested my chin on the table. “Whatever you say.”

We’d already had “the talk” when I turned ten. It happened right after my birthday. They were very, very detailed about it and open to questions. I, for one, never wanted to hear anything ever again afterward.

What was worse was that I suddenly “remembered” the topic they were telling me about. My eyes grew vacant as I pitifully recalled that day. Anyway! That aside, training with Nigel and learning from Barcus and Jessie would be perfect. It might even give me a reason to leave Sandy Branch someday.

“Let’s do it,” I told Quintin. “I’m ready to learn.”

Quintin smiled. “Then I know just how to use the coins you gave me.”

“Dad, they’re for—”

“My family,” interrupted Quintin. “Besides, I’m pretty sure we can get a discount.”