When we arrived back at our dorm, Riena stumbled into the kitchen and plopped the chest on the dining table. I jutted a hand out and reinforced the wood with my aura before that much gold was slammed onto it. The resulting clack was loud enough that the rest of the team winced.

  Riena laughed it off. “Right, gold is heavy. Okay! Let’s see what we got.” She retrieved a cylinder tube from her pocket and pressed it against the lock of the chest. After a few seconds of whirring, there was a click, and Riena threw the lid open.

  Our team gave the appropriate oohs and aahs at the collection of wealth. The amount of gold in enchantments and the circuit boards kept the demand up regardless of how much heroes brought in. While they started counting the coins, I dove through the pile for books. After years of saving for my family’s move, gold had lost its appeal. I had gotten into the habit of spending very little. When I looked at a pile of money, I didn’t see the promises of what I could spend it on. All it meant to me was that a number I didn’t care about would increase marginally in ways that didn’t affect my life.

  Derek noticed my growing stack of books. “What do you got there?”

  I held up a book and pointed at the gibberish title. “Demon literature, if the coatl could be believed. The creature mastered our language as we fought, so I have high hopes for the contents in these tomes.”

  “My family always dumped things like that at the local library.”

  “That’s probably where these will end up, but I want to translate them first.”

  “Can you do that? Is that one of your skills?” Derek asked.

  “Ha! No. I might recognize a word or two and that’ll help me find a relevant expert. That expert will normally need a rare ingredient for their translation device or spell.”

  “Spell? Is there a human spellcaster?”

  “Not as far as I know. A few of my monster contacts have a gift for languages.” A certain dragon would help me if I asked her, but I couldn’t reach out to her for a favor. After our last interaction, the debt went the other way.

  That drew the attention of my team away from the gold. Casimir asked, “How do you have monster contacts when you want to kill them all?”

  “Lies, manipulation, mutual enemies, or mutual enmity.” I smiled, recalling a particular Trow. “A rare few are actual friends. The whole heroic compulsion to slay monsters isn’t all that important if you don’t—you know—act on it. Not everyone has direct links to my brain.”

  Nyla gave me a sidelong glance. “You’re not a monster-fucker, are you?”

  “I’m attracted to humans, thank you very much.” I haven’t had sex with one, but I hadn’t even had the right junk for more than a few months. That wasn’t a fair metric.

  Riena coughed. “I would be more comfortable if we didn’t use that pejorative. There is nothing illicit about two consenting adults having relations.”

  Casimir, Nyla, and I stared at her while Derek slowly backed away from the conversation to count our coins instead.

  “Derek, you know what I’m talking about. Back me up.”

  He grimaced. “Look Riena, that kind of thing is normal where you’re from and where I’m from, but don’t expect people from the outer districts to be as ‘open minded’. You might have lived next to allied dragons and other monsters, but they haven’t.”

  “I’m willing to admit my ignorance and adapt when appropriate, but in this matter, I am right.”

  Nyla’s eyes were downcast. “A changeling replaced my sister and waited for years before trying to kill me. Right as I had come to terms with my parents’ deaths, I learned that my sister had been dead the entire time. I…” She blinked for a bit and steadied her breathing. “She replaced her right in the hospital and pretended her shade had damaged her memories. I taught her how to walk, eat, and shit, but then that fucking monster…” Nyla let out a long breath. “Maybe I am a provincial refugee, but you can’t trust monsters.”

  “I disagree with that,” I said. “Plenty of monsters can be trusted. It’s a case by case basis.”

  Derek pleaded, “Exemplar, now is not the time.”

  “Most of us have lost family and friends to monsters. We can’t let hate blind us to reality. That would inhibit our effectiveness at purging our foes. While I was unaware that monsterfu—interspecies relations was considered anything more than a kink, I see the connection between that thinking and the blind zealotry that gets heroes killed. I will have to ponder this more, and I thank Riena for her perspective.”

  Nyla scowled. “I don’t see how bumping uglies with monsters helps killing them.”

  “Well actually, Stone Giants have a very amusing vulnerability to—”

  Riena covered my mouth. “I’d rather not have that mental picture.”

  “Fuck this.” Nyla stormed to her room.

  Casimir sighed. “It’s been a long day. Why don’t we sleep this off and try again tomorrow?”

  We decided to set aside the gold to fund team equipment and team bonding. I advocated that Riena should have all of it. A tier 5 Crafter could do a lot with seed money and Aspiration’s facilities. She shot down that idea. Everyone did agree to let me keep the books.

  After I placed them on my desk and shut the door to my room, Fyrnell reached several tentacles in my direction and said, “There is a monster on you.”

  I grew very still. A monster had escaped my notice!? Try as I might, I couldn’t pinpoint the location. “Where?” I whispered.

  “Hmmm, I’m not sure.” Fyrnell pointed a tentacle at my satchel.

  I contorted around the strap and removed the garment without jostling it. Once free from it, I flung the contents onto my bed. Fyrnell grabbed all my Crafting supplies and potions, but one piece moved around their grasping. Through a series of daring aerial acrobatics, the flying serpent avoided my Bed Monster and zipped toward my face.

  The creature unfurled her wings and hissed, “Behold your DOOM!”

  I raised a palm to Fyrnell to forestall their assault. “Coatlie, how is this my doom?”

  She wrapped her wings around herself and smirked floating sideways. “If I die, then my main body will come to retrieve her books, so you have to feed me, keep me safe, and keep me company.”

  “That’s not much of a threat. You weren’t that strong.”

  Coatlie raised a wing. “Ah, but you assume you fought my main body and not a mere fragment of myself.”

  “If you are a scout for a sufficiently powerful monster, then I’m obligated to kill you.”

  She rolled her whole head. “I’m not leaving my books in the hands of someone who can’t even read them. If it’s a war you want, then you’ll get a war.”

  “Your translation services would be appreciated. I will accept that in exchange for your previous demands.”

  Coatlie’s stomach rumbled.

  I suppressed a sigh. “One moment.” I retrieved a cookie from the kitchen and gave it to her.

  “This offering is accepted, acolyte! Keep this up, and you’ll be my high priestess on this plane.” She circled the baked good and pounced on the vulnerable pieces. “Mmm, oatmeal raisin.” How does she know the names of Earth crops?

  Fyrnell wiggled. “Can I eat her now?”

  The serpent gasped in outrage as I answered them, “No, we’ve made a pact.” I slipped on my cleaning ring for a second and then removed my armor as Coatlie finished the cookie before flopping down on my bed. “Speaking of which, I am curious as to what is in those books.”

  Coatlie comported herself into a majestic pose before responding. “Is your mind ready to receive divine wisdom? Know that the knowledge in these is not clear. Everything is parable.”

  “Sure.” I crossed my hands behind my head and leaned back on my pillow.

  The serpent didn’t move. A glowing green crystal in Fyrnell’s hand whispered, “Why isn’t she starting?” Fyrnell turned the crystal toward the bed like they were looking at it before placing it on the desk next to the serpent. “Well?”

  “The elemental has a point,” I said. “What is the hold up?”

  Coatlie flapped her wings. “I have no arms… or hands…”

  “I’ve read books without those before. It’s very doable.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, I am quite small compared to the books.”

  Fyrnell sighed, “Which one do you want to start with?”

  Coatlie nosed a book and coiled in front of the pages as Fyrnell used several tentacles to hold it for her. She took a deep breath and began. “The Sky Princess and the Mooneater: Book 1 of the Sky Princess series. Evelyn had always considered herself different, not like other girls. Her plumage was more colorful, and her talent for magic had outpaced everyone else in her clutch, but unlike the popular girls, she had two beautiful arms. Those differences were the…”

  Fyrnell, the unnamed elemental, and myself listened to Coatlie’s reading of what I suspected was a fictional tale. That was fine. The stories demons told each other provided critical insights into their perspectives and culture, making this a productive use of time. That’s why I stayed up so late listening to her. It wasn’t because I was enthralled with the story.

  When I got ready in the morning, Coatlie flitted about me. “So, how was it? What did you think?”

  “I had questions about the worldbuilding.”

  “Like what?”

  “If none of the other girls have arms, then why do the lockers have locks? Why does everyone carry backpacks to class, and why do doors have knobs?”

  “Well see,” She curled around my neck and folded her wings. “It’s kind of a spoiler, but way back when, everyone had arms and forgot due to the curse, but since Evelyn’s a Sky Princess, she’s immune to the curse. Cultural inertia kept all the hand-friendly infrastructure around.”

  “Okay, that works.” I held my helmet in my hands. “Um, are you going to move?”

  “No, you promised to keep me company.”

  “I have class.”

  “I’ll come with you to class! No one will notice.” Coatlie then turned to solid silver. “See!” her mouth didn’t move to produce the sound.

  “But you won’t fit around my helm.”

  “Girl, you’re in school. Why are you wearing full plate to class?”

  “It’s practical,” I grumbled. “Monsters stalk the halls.”

  “No one else on your team wears a helmet.”

  “Heroes tend to grow their legend faster with an exposed face. I don’t have the same difficulty.”

  The serpent squeezed a little tighter. “It seems like a waste to do your makeup and then hide it behind a helmet.”

  “I don’t have time for this. Make sure you stay hidden. Most of the students will slay a monster on sight.” I shoved my helmet into my bag and made for the door. “Bye, Fyrnell!”

  A tentacle waved enthusiastically, “Bye, Mari!”

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  I met Nyla on my way out. She wore a skirt today, a bold choice for sparring and general Vanguard coursework. After a moment, I noticed her leggings. In retrospect, that was an obvious workaround. I’ll have to try that sometime. My teammate didn’t look me in the eye and remained quiet.

  She continued her silence as we walked by the second years’ morning purges. The battle lines remained far from us. Eventually, Nyla bristled under my glances. “What!?”

  “You’re quiet today,” I replied.

  “Are you going to lecture me more about monster tolerance, or maybe outline more ways my fucked-up upbringing made me more fucked-up?”

  “Nyla… if I implied a moral judgment, I apologize. Most heroes share varying extremes of your outlook. I consider it tactically unwise and try to correct it whenever possible.”

  “Riena judged me. The thought that I could be out there slaying monsters day after day and that high tower assholes can decide they are better than me because of new shit they made up… It pisses me off.”

  “Those ‘high tower assholes’ ensorcelled several dragons with their luxuries. Without those wyrms preferring our city as a rustic vacation spot, other dragons would’ve destroyed or conquered us. Everyone brings different talents to the fight for survival. It’s their role to ponder high-minded ideals while ours is to fight and die at the front.”

  Nyla stomped forward a little louder. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  I imagine myself in their shoes, waking up each day in perfect safety without a single monster to slay and shivered. “No, it doesn’t, but the equitable treatment of humans is a lower priority over survival. Someone has to do their important work while we get the fun part.”

  “You would see it that way,” Nyla exasperated. “Come on, we should hurry to class.”

  Our trip didn’t take long and my teammate’s mood seemed much improved. During sparring, Burn Bright matched me against another hero that didn’t stand a chance. I believe he planned to rotate me through everyone while they were unpracticed with their second abilities and before their shades had caught up. These fights meant nothing to me while Gabriel grew in prowess with each bout. One day, we would face each other again, and I didn’t know if I would be able to beat him.

  I needed more options.

  When I arrived at the Crafter’s tower, I spotted several students wearing ‘Elf Watch’ badges. I grimaced. Such mob observation tactics tended to help very little into the actual investigation of criminal elves. If this was my Ward, I would find their meeting places, the badge maker, and their leaders to scatter them. Since Aspiration had exactly one elf student, I would ask her how she wanted this handled. Vanya posed no danger, so breaking this group was only for her benefit. Ergo, if I made a move, it should be one she wants.

  I turned a corner and bumped into an unsurprised Commander. The mousy redhead had recovered from our previous encounter without issue. Her green eyes peered from two unshattered orbitals. I smiled at her. “Scarlet, what do I owe the pleasure?” If she provokes me, then I’ll break her jaw next. Regrowing teeth always hurts.

  The woman’s tension only grew at my expression. “Exemplar, I believe we got off on the wrong foot. Can we talk away from prying ears?” She thumbed to a room.

  “Sure.”

  We entered and she shut the door behind me. “I understand that you don’t believe Vanya is a traitor.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Have you checked?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve only investigated elves after harm had occurred.”

  She pressed a hand to her chest. “I as well. We’ve found bombs around the school enchanted in elvish script and several spirit summoning circles. Someone is trying to destroy the school. Why wouldn’t I suspect the elf?”

  Now she had my attention. “Aspiration faces destruction every semester and High Elvish is an extremely common Crafting language, which you would know if you consulted your Crafter before making a move, but thank you for making me aware about the threat to the school.”

  “Really, with all that evidence, you don’t suspect Vanya at all? Doesn’t that strike you as odd? Are you certain she hasn’t enchanted you?”

  I sighed. “Vanya is one of the least suspicious people here. Aspiration vets all the Monster students. The same scrutiny isn’t applied to human heroes.”

  She scoffed. “I doubt any hero worthy of Aspiration would be a collaborator. Meanwhile, elves are masters of deceit and can have plans so intricate that they themselves are unaware of their own motives. I can tell when someone is lying, and Vanya is definitely hiding something. You shouldn’t trust her.”

  “Can you really detect lies?” That was such a useful ability and should help her appreciate the sincerity of my next words. “You should know, the only reason I am not breaking each of your limbs for starting a hate group targeting my friend—” And there was no way anyone else had started it. “—is because I’m going to ask her if she wants me to do that first. Hopefully, we’ll meet again real soon.” I placed a hand on the door.

  “I can’t believe Exemplar is an elf-friend. I looked up to you; all the child inquisitors did. While the rest of us were preparing for training school, you had already burned three elves. That dedication was inspirational. Did your recent change really shift your perspective so much?”

  A chill crawled up my back. “Tread carefully, Scarlet,” I poured promises of violence into each syllable. “Speak not ill of my change. That was that and this is this.” The door creaked under my tightening grip.

  Scarlet held up her hands. “I only try to make connections. This behavior is odd for someone with your background. Without an alternative explanation, I’m blaming Vanya.”

  “I never hated elves. Just because all the ones that tried to settle in Ward 17 were heinous doesn’t mean they all are. Elf-friend isn’t even an insult. Who wouldn’t want a friend?”

  “Don’t be naive. Aside from a rare few on their first life, all elves are hopelessly insane tools of our enemy.”

  I turned around and locked eyes with her. “Have you talked with a high fey? I have. Those spirits do not have intelligible goals. They make their wishes known to the high elves who pass those desires down the generations to modern elves in their court. It’s a long game of telephone where only a shadow of the original intent remains.”

  Scarlet relaxed. “Ah, that explains it. You’re fey-touched. Seeing a high fey—much less conversing with one—is more than enough contact for them to completely rewire your mind.” She dipped her head. “To the brave inquisitor trapped in your mind, I promise you that we’ll unravel these plots in your stead!”

  I left for Enchanting without arguing further. Zealots like that couldn’t be reasoned with and made me regret dabbling in tangential law enforcement. If one of my friends wasn’t eaten by an elf, then I would’ve remained blissfully uninvolved.

  Vanya was happily etching script onto bullets when I arrived. Her eyes roved over me. “Were you accosted on the way here?”

  “A little.” I pulled up several ingots of steel. “Do you want me to end the ‘Elf Watch’ group? It would be no trouble.”

  She laughed. “Those amateurs only caught me because I wasn’t being careful. I’ve been dodging inquisitors all my life to survive this long. The ad hoc recruits are even less competent. No Mari, groups like these will fizzle out if they can’t find an elf to watch. But if you go breaking bone, that will be a recruiting tool. If other elves were in danger, then different tactics might be required. Actually, I appreciate all the bigots labeling themselves for me. It makes avoiding their teams easier.”

  I tried to alloy the steel with my own blood. If successful, that would give me a cheap tier 2 material. “How was your trip with Gabriel?”

  “Oh, he was a complete gentleman and kept his team off my back. I am curious why he looks like your twin.”

  My portable smelter took a bit of my focus and aura as I talked. “That’s his secret to tell.” He hadn’t shown me the same courtesy and shouted the reason to our sparring class, but I didn’t need to become Gabriel to get even with him. Besides, he was becoming me.

  “Hard to ask when I’m also not letting him know I know you.”

  Injecting my blood into the molten steel only resulted in the ichor bubbling out like slag. Could my blood be a flux? “It’s probably safe now. He will likely try to turn you against me by…” It’s not a secret. I could casually tell her. The words couldn’t come. Do I really want Gabriel to be the one to explain?

  Gyro started the lecture before my pause became too awkward. “Alright class, buckle in and prepare yourselves. We’ll be diving into the mysteries behind spatial equipment and storage, a key skill for any serious Crafter. Continue with your own side projects as I lecture. You need to master paying attention to your surroundings while you Craft. Most enchanting can be done fairly quickly, and your team will need you to disable traps in dungeons and portals.

  “With that out of the way, let’s begin digging into the math. First, you need to understand that the three spatial dimensions are arbitrary in the metaphysical sense. Space doesn’t have to be real. It can be a series of relations. While that might be a useless distinction for traditional physics, in enchanting, we can add more dimensions and store objects in those directions. Creating, maintaining, and interacting with such spaces—unfortunately—requires tons of math. Your chosen lexicon can’t get around these equations since they are factored in at the design level.

  “Obviously, everyone here should know how to solve multivariate systems of ordinary differential equations. We won’t be going over that. If you don’t know what I am talking about, hit the library or drop out. Now, we’ll be starting with the various decay and warping factors along specific imaginary axes and how to correct for them in enchantments by…”

  The lecture had my rapt attention. When I read the book, I gleaned a vague idea about these concepts and understood them better a second time, but I would need to do the optional exercises to make the math stick. My ability did not help me here, and I needed to master this if I wanted to carry vast resources and multiple sets of weapons and armor while performing heroics.

  Absently, I continued my smelting attempts and produced blood-purified steel. Rather than a red hue, the metal appeared more silvery. Odd. Hesitantly, I molded the steel into knives and etched the rune structures for durability and a conditional heating effect. If the magic took hold, then the knife would rapidly heat as it was thrown before searing into the target. If the MP capacity was too low, then one of the runes would fail to charge, and it would become a cursed item, raising the capacity and producing unintended effects.

  When class finished, I packed my things and sheathed my new—hopefully uncursed—knives. A nagging feeling scratched at the back of my mind. There was something I wanted to tell Vanya—but what? Between the math and Crafting, I forgot and offered to walk with her to our Monday seminar.

  “I’m not walking,” She replied. “If you can stay out of sight, you can follow.”

  “With a challenge like that, I couldn’t possibly refuse.”

  Vanya’s route to the next class involved hiding among the ceiling drone traffic, cutting through empty class rooms, and hiding directly in crowds for brief moments. A couple times, Vanya moved toward a blank wall, but quickly pivoted to go a different route. A subtle reach of my aura confirmed that there were non-enchanted pockets behind those walls, possibly air. Aside from those curious moments, it was clear that Vanya was almost as practiced in stealth as I was. Given my ability, that meant she had honed these skills daily, including when she was ‘safely’ at home. I admired the dedication, no matter how necessary it may have been.

  We arrived at our seminar auditorium in time for Gyro to introduce the Commander Professor, Maze. The man’s short hair had long since gone gray, a legendary accomplishment for any hero. Wrinkles distinguished his face, implying a wealth of experience. His blue eyes seemed to stare directly into mine despite roving the entire lecture hall. In stark contrast to his colleagues, Maze wore a fine black suit that wouldn’t be out of place at the highest societal functions. A faint gold wire lined the interior and exterior of the outfit with a dizzying array of protective enchantments from a variety of esoteric effects.

  “Class.” His voice carried over the din of students settling in without being a shout. Exacting expectation carried in the word. His gloved hands were crossed behind his back as he collected our attention. “In recent years, Crafters have grown more difficult to Command. Many of you may think you are the next Savior and believe you know better than your Commanders. I’m here to dispel those illusions through a very simple exercise that will give you insights into the burden of Command.”

  Maze paced at the front of the lecture hall as he took an intentionally long pause.

  “Select a leader. Your method does not matter, and class is over once you finish.”

  I pulled out my rune book and settled in for a long wait. One student raised his hand and asked, “What is the leader for?”

  Professor Maze stared the student down until he lowered his hand and didn’t answer the question. The bickering started as whispers and slowly crescendoed to boasting as various heroes threw their name for consideration.

  Vanya poked my shoulder. “I’m surprised you aren’t trying to be the leader.”

  “I lead from the front.” I sighed. “And even that will be less prominent going forward. There have been times when I’ve acted as Commander, and people always die. It’s not a responsibility I care to bear.” Sending friends and lifelong acquaintances into the maws of monsters to buy the rest of my village time. The screams that haunted my first nightmares. Leading my village through Blood Valley to Last Stand had soured any desire for the Commander’s role.

  “Wouldn’t that make you a better leader than most?”

  I flipped a page. “You led more of the students during the last class than anyone else. I would pick you for leader.”

  She snorted. “They only worked with me because they were panicked and their lives were on the line. In a relatively safe environment like this, they wouldn’t trust an elf.”

  “They should.”

  “I agree, but they won’t.”

  Lars threw his hat into the ring. One of the other students pointed to me and said, “Let’s just pick Exemplar and get out of here. She’s the only named hero in our class.”

  Instead of being shot down, a sizable number of the students murmured assent to that idea, but not nearly enough to sway the majority.

  I stood to withdraw my candidacy. “Please, I’m not the best Crafter on my team, let alone this classroom. Not yet, anyway.” Or probably ever, depending on how Crafting proficiency was defined.

  “See, even Exemplar agrees that the leader should be the best Crafter!” A student I didn’t know said.

  Lars shook his head. “Nay, leadership is a separate skill set. Who here has Commanded the most people? Raise your hands if you’ve led a team before.”

  I begrudgingly raised my hand along with several others.

  “See, that narrows things down considerably. Keep your hand raised if you’ve led a multi-team portal raid.”

  Myself, Lars, and three others still had their hands raised.

  “Alright, keep it in the air if you’ve led an army.” One by one, the other contenders lowered their hands until it was me and Lars. He gave me a wink. “Oh, my hand shouldn’t be up. I got distracted.”

  That left only me. I scowled at Lars.

  He chuckled. “Well, by my own standard, Exemplar should be the leader.”

  One student said, “There is no way a tier 3 Crafter should be our representative.”

  I sat back down and focused on studying. The bickering continued well into the evening. Maze left long before we finished with these parting words: “I trust that you are all beginning to grasp the difficulties of managing egos within a team, and how challenging social dynamics could be.”

  Gyro also abandoned us long before we finished. The hours of arguing wore down most of the wills in the class, but a few kept going at it, to the annoyance of everyone else.

  After one last round of bickering and a series of threats from bored students, we selected some moderately attractive boy with a core Crafting ability and a surname to be our leader. I didn’t bother to remember his name.

  By the time I returned to the dorm, everyone else was asleep or an equivalent. In my room, Coatlie released her grip and fluttered around. “Are you sure you’re human?”

  I settled down to meditate. “Yes. Why did you ask?”

  “You don’t act like the other humans.”

  “Everyone is different.”

  Fyrnell patted my head with one tentacle while several others pointed accusingly at Coatlie. “Mari thinks a bit differently than most humans, but there are others with her various variant thought patterns.”

  Coatlie hummed in a doubting tone before shifting topics. “Feed me.”

  “You ate yesterday.” The serpent’s gaze did not falter. I sighed and stole another one of Derek’s cookies before focusing my mind on recovery.

  Once Coatlie finished her confection, she continued reading from her books. Overall, it wasn’t a bad way to spend a night.