+ Reid +

Another airborne arachnid accelerated towards their group, and Reid casually tossed a slug-powered marrowbomb into the oncoming beast. It deformed around the sphere and popped into a puddle of smoking goo. Behind him, the group was decked out in simple, somewhat ill-fitting bone armor, and each held a bonecraft spear. Everyone but Rongo was screaming. He turned to the weathered sailor.

"What about that time?"

The man shook his head, and Reid sighed. Of course there would be some sort of limitation to what he was doing. Reid was E grade, killing F-grade spiders to level up G grade individuals. That discrepancy was apparently too much for the system to allow - and as a result, the group traveling with him had only received a negligible amount of experience despite the few hours they'd spent traveling so far. Reid had forgotten how slow lower leveled people could be - and had already adjusted his estimates on how long the travel would take. This wasn't going to be a quick trip.

He bit a lip, and turned back towards the frightened group. Rongo was not-so-stealthily shoving a flask back into a pocket. Behind him, Quinlan - the young, timid osteal crafter and Reid's now-apprentice was joined by another young crafter that worked with copper, two fighters that were almost certainly twin sisters, another three 'support' personnel with generic skillsets, and a total of ten individuals who had either strength, transport, or storage related skills. Reid had been tempted to tell them he didn't need their services because of his storage abilities - but there was nothing wrong with keeping a few secrets... or at least leaving them somewhat obscured. No one had asked for an explanation on how pieces of his equipment sometimes disappeared and popped into existence, and he kept the truth to himself.

The entire goal of this trip was self-sufficiency, after all. Each of the group were part of The Osteal Empire now, and the rest of the town of Dayo Sovni was slowly being inducted by the limited recruiting capability he'd left behind. More specific objectives for the travel included getting the resources to complete workable bolt-throwers, and giving some crafters the levels to create replacement components when things inevitably broke down. Sure, he could have left them with spears and armor and called it a day - but Reid wanted them prepared for flying beasts AND Belar troops that would fight from range. The issue was, of course, that even with his achievement-boosted abilities to give faction and group xp, the creatures he killed were granting nearly no experience to those behind him. Reid sighed through his nose as he turned to the group. This was going to slow them down even more.

"Quinlan! Up here with me. You're going to stab some beasts."

#

#

Reid missed Brinhka, Norton, and Gerald. They were, at the very least, brave enough to follow his orders when he was pushing them to improve. With Quinlan and the rest... well, it had been mostly screaming. Reid resorted to trapping beasts and having them get their 'first' kills while the arachnids were inside cages. Then, they'd tired out ridiculously quickly, and had to stop for the night. Repeated several times over, Reid was getting exceptionally bored and regretted his earlier desire to help. They were on day 6, no one had reached F grade yet, and because everyone was weak, he had to stand watch instead of working on his arcane wings. There weren't even good rations.

Complaints aside, the trip had been nominally beneficial in one way - some of the townspeople were allowing themselves to get more comfortable around him. Most important of those was Quinlan. The boy had been hesitant to even be near Reid at the start, but now he was capable of lasting a whole 15 minutes in close proximity without nervous sweat showing through his shirt.

With the increase in time together, Reid had been able to make a bit of progress teaching Quinlan how to better use his skill.

"Hands in place - good. Now, don't just picture the outcome, imagine the arrowhead growing out of the bone you're crafting. Focus on that incremental progress towards crafting completion." Energy condensed into material in Quinlan's cupped hands, and a minute later, an arrowhead fell down into them. "Nice! Now..."

Reid led the young crafter through a series of other exercises. To him, there were many things that were innately understood. That you could grow bone from your own bones. That you could craft more than one item at a time when doing small crafts. That items, when sufficiently crafted, could be made with traits. But to his new apprentice, each idea was a world-changing revelation that fundamentally impacted how the boy thought about his skill. Reid's main takeaway was more confirmation that his own crafting skills were unusually potent. Even by having Quinlan re-balancing his stats to raise Power up where it should be, the boy still lagged far behind where Reid would have wanted to see him.

He was making progress at his own speed - but Reid knew he'd need far more time and experience to take on the role required to let Reid confidently leave the town to its own devices. The boy's sleeve shifted mid-craft, and he stopped his magic crafting to cover the series of small, horizontal scars he obsessively kept covered. His shoulders slumped forward as he cast a sidelong glance at Reid.

Maybe he would need more than time and levels.

#

#

Two nights later, Reid found himself in a similar situation. A small fire gave light and warmth to the people in their group that didn't have weather resistance skills or darkvision. They hadn't yet reached the early hours where the spiders were more prone to launching attacks, and he and Quinlan were nearing a breakthrough in the boy's ability to craft more complex items when his hands shifted into a more natural position for the work, and his sleeve shifted. He cut the process off, and slumped into himself. Reid bit the inside of his lip. He'd spent the last two nights warring on whether it was his place to have this talk. He was just an outsider, and in a certain sense, he was using Quinlan for his skills. He wasn't a parent, or a real mentor, or a good teacher. But the boy was never going to advance if he didn't get some sort of push.

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"When I gave you the invitation, Quinlan, you didn't want to accept it, did you?"

Quinlan shifted nervously, and shook his head. His shoulders stayed hunched. "I - I wanted to stay in my house. I wanted to be left alone."

Reid nodded. The boy's shut-in nature had been a common thread in the conversations they'd had so far, and gave Reid more clues to his mental state. This was the first time he'd gotten him to admit outright that he didn't want to be on this expedition. It was good progress. He hoped he wasn't pushing too far, too quickly.

"Shame is a funny thing, you know. Some people don't have any, and they should. Some have too much. When I was in prison," Quinlan's head snapped up as he dedicated his full attention to the story. "there were a lot of people there that didn't have any shame for their wrongs, and they ended up causing themselves more grief because they just kept repeating mistakes or making new ones."

He scanned over the forest again to ensure there were no beasts.

"But others - they carried it heavy. Let that weight mix into everything, until they retreated into a shadow of themselves. Even when it wasn't their fault, or it wasn't that bad. They thought they deserved to have bad things happen to them, so they found ways to make it happen. Or they just stopped letting things happen altogether, because it was too hard to have anything happen at all. Shame, hopelessness, melancholy, depression - they're all catalysts for one another, and they grow so easy. However you'd describe it - chains on your heart, sinking into deep water, feeling trapped, only feeling comfortable when you shut off everything and everyone else - it isn't something anyone just 'gets over' or 'gets better'."

His gaze came back around to the fire, and his apprentice. Quinlan was holding his own elbows, bottoms of his wrists turned inward.

"That's a struggle, Quinlan. It's hard. And you have to want it. It only works when you're willing to accept that your struggle isn't something to be ashamed of - that your struggle is the thousands of minutes and moments where you win just by being here. And you have to accept that even if you stumble, you can still keep struggling forward. And you do it, knowing it might be just as hard."

The boy flinched as Reid put a hand gently atop his crossed arms.

"But you can always take another step - and if you keep moving forward, and maybe you reach somewhere that gives you more to struggle for. Yes, the past defines you. Yes, it can leave scars. You're here, now, because of all the steps you've taken so far. But you know what's even more important than all those steps you've already taken?"

Reid waited, and the boy shook his head.

"The next one."

)+\( Hugo )/+(

Noise rang loud off the tunnel walls as the combined group moved deeper underground. Bright, focused lamps powered by glowing crystals lit the way, and Hugo gave directions when they came to forks in the path. Tal and his rescued escorts were deeper into the mobile column, still receiving attention from the medical staff. Lycra's group was well-disciplined in their march, though the boy - or man - himself was entirely, continuously distracted. Hugo had attempted conversation for the last half hour, with little result that was safe from eschewing into tangential topics as soon as Lycra touched them. Mostly, talk went to crystal technology.

"These tunnels are small," A pair of yellow eyes were narrowed at their surroundings. "And there's no crystal down here. Last time I was underground, there was crystal. I used up all the big ones I had left for the plasma cannon. Now I need more. Take me to the tunnels with the glowing rocks."

Jenna - the woman constantly at Lycra's side - leaned over to them. "The prin- *ahem* - the King likely knows what mana crystals are. Why don't we talk about resources when we get to our destination and everyone has had some rest?"

Lycra tilted his head in thought, then turned to Hugo. "Do you have a lab? While everyone rests, I could work in the lab!"

Hugo smiled at the question - and Jenna's efforts to keep her composure. These two were fun. "We have not outfitted a laboratory, but we do have an ample supply of empty buildings. The Undercity is vast, and not all of it is inhabited. There will be more than enough space for your people and for yourself."

Lycra's eyes seemed to go wider. "Woooow. When I was in prison, we were underground too, but we only had a few buildings. I can't wait to see a whole city!"

Hugo watched a number of Lycra's people startle and give his small frame evaluating looks. The time he and Serroc spent unlawfully detained underground was not quite public knowledge, it seemed - though from the looks on the surrounding force's faces, it would not remain a secret for long. He didn't seem to care.

"We had a market! That's where I got my backpack. Do you have a market?"

"In fact we do. A vibrant set of shops that trade all manner of supplies - crafted or scavenged from the city. Did you have something in mind to purchase? I believe I owe you for the rescue."

Lycra wiggle-waved his hand into the air. "No. Friends help friends. But - I want to buy something nice for Jenna. Maybe a necklace. Or a backpack."

Hugo watched the woman's soul react to the statement with a dancing, suppressed rhythm. There was more to the relationship than it seemed at first glance. Or, maybe, it was a one-sided affair. Lycra's soul was warm as he spoke, but it lacked the motion that generally accompanied such strong emotions as romantic love.

"Lycra, would you care to share your story of your tutorial? It would be wonderful to hear how you and Jenna met."

Yellow eyes widened. "You want to hear what I made?!"

Hugo smiled. "Well, that, and how you created your faction, who else you met, and how things progressed outside of crafting."

The smile on Lycra's face flattened. "That would take too long. And its boring," He turned to Jenna. "I want to go check on my robots. You tell the boring stories. I can do the fun ones when I get back."

Without waiting for a response, Lycra's small frame twisted and jogged back towards where the massive golem bodies were being dragged behind them. Jenna watched him go, then turned to Hugo with pursed lips.

"He isn't going to be back here for hours. You're the only reason he hadn't torn those things apart yet."

Hugo chuckled to himself.

"Well then, Jenna - it would appear that you shall be telling the whole story."

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