Sigurd had to quickly take over in steering the horse, holding its lead and walking while Vel finished her weaving. Her hands felt stiff, as did her shoulders, legs, and everything. However, she had managed to finish creating a silk shawl that was whiter than snow. Not only that, [create silk] was up to level 61. Strange that her highest level skill was something so . . . homemaking rather than fighting.

  With aching arms, she pulled the shawl over her hair, and sighed. “It’s done, and I really need to stretch,” she said.

  “While you’re stretching, you might practice another magic skill. With each of them having different costs, you could start ranking them up faster,” Sigurd said.

  “And what will that do?”

  “Upgrade the skill and give you more stat points.”

  That did sound nice. Vel hummed, reviewing her stats once again.

  [Stats]

  [Strength: 2]

  [Dexterity: 4.5]

  [Constitution: 2.5]

  [Acuity: 1.5]

  [Magic: 3.5]

  The raise in her dexterity stat since the last time she used so much [create web] made sense as to why she could use the skill so many times now. Granted, if she went any further, she was certain she’d turn to stone.

  “[Fireball] would be hard to work on out here. I don’t want to burn the forest down,” Vel hummed, thinking about what she should practice next. That one seemed like the most useful magic skill for combat, especially if she could manage to rank it up.

  Sigurd stopped the horse, then helped Vel down, a cringe playing across her face. “I hate and love [create silk] at the same time,” she said, taking a few steps forward.

  “Could you extinguish a fireball before it hit anything?” Sigurd asked. “Or just hold it? Does it say anything that the fireball has to be thrown?”

  “Huh, how come I never thought of that before?” Vel asked, and opened her right hand. She made a few awkward and large steps as she walked to stretch her legs, yet maintained her focus as her heat gathered in her hand.

  Hold it, hold it, she told herself. A spark bounced from her hand, and when the fireball formed, she aimed at nothing, save for it to maintain its place in her hand. A small ball of fire swirled and formed in her hand. It stayed in place for a moment, then vanished, like the spell could only sustain itself for so long.

  [Fireball level 41]

  Of course, it was hot. She really didn’t want to hold something that stung at her skin for too long, even if it was technically a hand length above her palm.

  “Could I stop and hold it someplace else too?” Vel thought, humming. The spell had a limited time, so if she stopped it in its throw, then it would vanish without hurting anything.

  “One way to find out,” Sigurd said.

  Vel nodded, then thrust her hand forward in front of her. Oh . . . That stretch felt so nice. With her other hand, she grabbed the fingers of her right one, and pulled back a bit, getting a stronger stretch from it. Letting the heat travel back to the palm of her right hand, she shot the wispy flame forward, the target being about ten paces in front of her. It stopped, and slowly faded out of existence.

  “This is almost too easy,” Vel said, smiling.

  “Until you’re shivering to death,” Sigurd noted.

  “Right.”

  Vel threw a few more [fireballs], and each time, she paused to let her the heat in her body resettle. However, after each time, she was just a little bit colder than before.

  [Fireball level 42]

  “Sigurd, what happened to your wife?” Vel asked, deciding to be brave this time. Besides, they had gone through so much together. That meant something, didn’t it?

  The hunter sighed, turning his head to Vel. “Ask me another time,” he said. He turned his eyes up to the dimming sky. “We should be nearly there anyways,” he said.

  Vel looked forward, squinting her eyes. Now that he said it, she did see a few towers peeking out from behind the trees further down the decline they were on. Scanning her eyes to the right, she saw the dirt road through the trees essing down towards the town. It wasn’t empty.

  Further along the road was a caravan, and painted on its white side was a set of scales to represent the Church of Retribution. “Sigurd!” Vel hissed quietly, “Why didn’t you tell me there was a church caravan nearby?”

  “I didn’t want to freak you out,” Sigurd said. It was a ways away, and had it not been so white, Vel wasn’t sure she’d even be able to see it through the underbrush. “We’ll need to lag behind them. Far behind them. After they go into town, then we can. Or . . .” The hunter cringed, and looked over Vel. “I hate to leave you alone, but you’re so obvious. It might be better if you didn’t go into town at all. I can stash you with the horse outside of it, you wait for me.”

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  “That sounds just as nerve wracking as actually being in town with you,” Vel said, sighing. “And what was the point in having me make a shawl then?”

  “For later,” Sigurd said, slowing as the hill leveled out. He stopped for a moment, then took Vel’s hand and placed the lead in it. “I want you to wrap around to the other side of Carron. I’ll come out the other side with provisions and another horse, hopefully. It might be good to see if someone has the boat schedule too.”

  “Boat schedule?” Vel asked.

  “For the port town. There are consistent and frequent trading ships to Ymril. Loverboy’s bound to be on one of them,” Sigurd said.

  Furrowing her brow, Vel asked, “Why would Alnon keep trade open with an anti-church country?”

  “Money has a tendency to cross some divides,” Sigurd said, and started forward towards the town, Carron. “I’ll see you on the other side,” he smiled.

  “That’s a terrible joke,” Vel huffed, but nodded.

  She watched him as he crept towards the dirt road, being sure to remain far behind the caravan. Then she looked forward and to the left a bit. From this spot, the town was built like a blob. There was no clear edge, just farmhouses dotted further and further out. The fields were wide, and getting around them would be a hassle, but was that what Sigurd meant? Or was she supposed to go around just the general populace?

  It’s getting darker, she thought, considering that by the time she reached the road that stretched out between fields, she could easily pass through in the darkness of night. Vel pulled Chestnut the Horse along, pushing brambles away as she pressed forward. Perhaps if she wasn’t so nervous about being alone, she’d have practiced magic again, but fire seemed like something that would call attention to her.

  However, Vel did pick up a rock. If maybe her heart would stop leaping out at every small skitter from every squirrel, or every bat that flew by, she might actually practice something. As the darkness began to loom over her, and the underbrush and trees thinned, Vel grew more wary.

  The darkness is yours, she thought, use it. Then a thought came to her. Could she use [shadow sneak]?

  Purple Fairy, how do I use [Shadow Sneak], Vel asked.

  [Shadow Sneak: An active skill to walk through shadows]

  That is so not helpful on the how part, Vel thought, shaking her head. Maybe if she could determine what stat the cost of this magic would line up with, that might get her a head start in figuring it out.

  Strength, dexterity, constitution, acuity, and magic . . . Was it possible for the cost to come directly out of magic? Vel scratched her head on that one, but figured that the magic stat most likely only did as Sigurd explained earlier━enhanced the potency. For a sneaking skill, dexterity made the most sense to Vel, so she just had to sneak, right?

  Figuring that she was already in the shadows, something she assumed was required for [shadow sneak], Vel changed her step, moving toe first, then heel. Toe, heel, toe, heel. As she did this, the world around her warped, and with it, she felt a weight on the front of her mind, almost like a fog was blanketed over her eyes.

  Her stomach dropped, and for a brief moment, Vel felt like she was falling. It was enough that she’d instinctively used [feather fall] to at least alleviate the feeling.

  [Feather Fall level 31]

  The earth beneath her opened up, an abyss of darkness lying beneath her. It swallowed her in one gulp, her form seamlessly slipping through to the other side. She somersaulted through the darkness, covering her mouth with a free hand to prevent a yelp from escaping. When the darkness dripped away from her vision, she was left sitting on what felt like glass, her bum sore from landing on it.

  The foggy haze over her eyes slipped away, and with it came two realizations. One, the forest was beneath her, and two, she was still holding the horse’s lead, but the horse was standing on the other side. Of course, all she saw was its shadowy underside, hardly visible. The only light in this place was provided from that on the other side of the glass, like a window to the moon that hung in the sky above shadowy treetops.

  Okay, this isn’t good, Vel surmised, eyes scanning through the black abyss that laid around her. It was empty and cold, colder than she’d been when she was standing on the other side. The most mind boggling part was how remarkably bizarre it was to stand up on the glass and see the world from the underside. The longer she stared, the more dizzy she felt, which gave her the sense that there was no way she could maintain her place within this realm.

  “Okay,” she whispered, gulping. Time to go back, which felt just as daunting as sneaking into the realm was. Doing the same thing as before, she stepped toe first, and as she did, she tripped right through the glass, her form swinging through it like she was passing through water. When she emerged from the other side, the darkness fell away, leaving bright moonlight dazzling overhead and a sick feeling lingering in her stomach as she staggered forward past the now grazing horse.

  [Shadow Sneak level 2]

  All that for one level? Vel groaned. Sucking in a quick breath, she shook the dizziness away, and with it went her nausea. Acuity, it appeared, was the cost of that skill. It. Avenging. Sucked!

  Moving to the horse, she grabbed its halter, then proceeded to . . . erm, tie the lead in the best looking place. Sigurd could fix it later. Instead, she just needed to move forward, cautiously emerging from the forest and onto the farm road.

  Vel glanced towards the tall towers that darkened the townscape beyond the farmlands. They were certainly eerie in the night, perhaps more so because of how wary she was. Just keep going, she thought, facing forward. She tightened the shawl around her hair, and for the long stretch of dirt road, jumped at every little sound. Something about being alone made her more skittish, but she’d about had enough when a rat ran across the ground in front of her!

  Muffling her own yelp with a hand, she made a decision. Nope, she wasn’t going to do this. So, she climbed atop Chestnut. Using what little Sigurd taught her, she got the horse into a little trot, and made much better time crossing the fields. It still felt like an eternity, but at least she felt much better moving at this pace.

  Once Vel was through the fields, she slowed Chestnut to a saunter, and rounded towards the town’s edge. This sandwiched her between wooden walls and tall trees, colored by the faint whisper of running water━perhaps the river she knew ran through this forest.

  As a set of loosely guarded gates came into view, Vel dismounted. “Come on,” she said to Chestnut, pulling her into the darkness of the trees, away from the prying eyes of━

  [Skill gained: Keen Eye]

  [0.5 Acuity added]

  Vel froze. She whipped around with a gasp, eyes desperately searching for whatever or whoever spotted her. Then a horn sounded, and she looked up towards its source, a tower standing tall from behind the wooden wall. Her eyes widened as she saw someone pointing a finger, merely a shadow in the moon’s light.

  [Keen Eye level 2]

  The gates creaked open, Vel’s heart leaping out of her chest when she saw a group of knights emerge.

  Sigurd, where are you?