Jeze had stayed up late working on the suit of armor. She etched and overlaid the Darkness, Earth, Life, and Fire aspects onto the metal plates with precision and focus. It was her best Rune work yet. She was exhausted from the exertion of Will she used with each inscription and fell asleep on the floor. The next morning she was awakened by Ziplocke.


    “Wake up knucklehead!” The Goblin cried. He took pleasure in seeing the look of misery on the teenager’s face when she woke up.


    Jeze sat up and rubbed her eyes. She stretched and listened. She guessed the time of day based upon the rumblings of the market outside.


    “Is it finished?” Hannah asked as she came inside the back area of the tent.


    Jeze nodded and yawned. A part of her would be sad to see this armor sold. It was her best work yet, but the coin would be substantial. This was a newly made and enchanted set, unlike her previous work, which consisted of used armor with the clear, unfortunate stories of the previous owners marked with stitches and patches.


    “Good! Is it alright if I make some final touches before we sell it?” Hannah asked.


    “As long as you don’t tamper with the Rune-covered plates, you should be fine,” Jeze answered as she rose to her feet.


    The plates were under the armor and were in areas least likely to get hit to avoid getting damaged. That was another reason why enchanted weapons were so difficult to make. Any marring of the Rune patterns, no matter how minor, would end the enchantment. Hannah nodded and returned to work. Jeze bid the merchant farewell and left to train with her team. The Frostsworn were disciplined. They woke up early and entered into a hard training routine every day and did it like they loved it. In many ways, they reminded Jeze of her brother.


    “Oh, ho! Here she is, our Scout,” Helga greeted with a firm handshake.


    “Healthy morning to you!” Rolfe cheered.


    The two large team members always seemed happy, Jeze reflected. Unless they were fighting you, then they were absolutely ruthless. Jeze recalled her bout with Helga and how the warrior maiden broke her arm. Mikal nodded in greeting.


    “Welcome, Jeze, we are all here. Let’s get started!” Dunar barked.


    The others grumbled as they hefted their heavy packs and weapons. For the past week, Dunar had them running with full gear to prepare for the Wandering Spire. Helga and Rolf wore jingling lamellar armor that consisted of iron plates laced together and interwoven into a heavy jacket. Dunar and Mikal wore chainmail hauberks that came below their waist. Jeze still did not have armor yet, and Dunar provided her with a stained quilted gambeson and an iron helm. It was heavy and uncomfortable and served its purpose to strengthen her body. She shouldered her pack along with the others.


    “The Carls will be joining us,” Dunar said.


    Carl was the Frostsworn term for an Adventurer rank. Jeze learned that they were respected positions and often served as knights or lords. Just like the Guild, one must earn the rank of Carl through strength and skill. Jorgenson and four other Carls jogged alongside the Proven. They wore furs, helms, and gleaming steel armor along with their heavy packs. The “friendly” jog quickly turned into a race to see who could cover a dozen laps, which came to fifteen miles, around the expansive courtyard. Jeze tried her best and was the last of her team to fall behind the fast, steady pace of the Carls. She watched through her exhausted body as the large Frostsworn grew smaller and smaller ahead of her.


    “That was a good effort!” One of the Carls cheered, when Jeze caught up to them.


    “Hmmpf, you have a fire in you, child.” Jorgenson slapped a heavy hand on Jeze’s shoulder.


    She was panting at the end of their run, while the Carls looked like they just returned from a leisurely stroll. It was several moments before Dunar and Mikal arrived, and later, they were joined by Helga and Rolfe. The Proven collapsed in exhaustion.


    “Still pups,” another Carl joked. This one, a woman with swirling facial tattoos and short black hair.


    Jorgenson studied Jeze and observed, “You need armor. You can not venture into the Spire with what you have.”


    “I am earning coin,” was all Jeze could rasp out.


    The Carl pulled out and deftly flipped a battle axe and gave it hilt first to Jeze. It had a smooth wooden handle with a curved, shiny steel axe head.


    “What’s this?” Jeze asked.


    “A gift. You need a proper weapon. Your axes are good for throwing. This one is for fighting.” Jorgenson explained.


    Stolen story; please report.


    The look on the Carl’s face made it clear to Jeze that she should not turn it down. She accepted the weapon with a nod of gratitude.


    “You will find that it swings like what you are used to, but it will hit much harder. The beasts of the Spire are hard to kill. This will serve you well,” Jorgenson explained.


    Jeze thanked the Carl again and tried a few practice swings. Jorgenson was correct. It had the same balance and weight distribution as her hand axe but was heavier and had more reach. The swings would tire her out faster, but she developed the capacity from years of training to adjust. Jeze was confident she could fight with the battle axe as well as she had fought with her hand axes, minus the option to throw. Jeze liked utility, and the switch to the larger weapon gave her some concern. In the end, the increased damage and reach balanced out the need for throwing. Besides, I have my Rune magic for range attacks, Jeze thought to herself.


    Jeze and her team were exhausted from the sprinting and were just barely recovering. The Carls, however, were wrestling and challenging each other to feats of strength that ranged from stacking large stones to raising up logs.


    “How are they not tired?” Jeze asked.


    Helga and Rolfe shrugged. The two were still out of breath. Mikal was leaning against a tent pole, and Dunar was starting to stand straight. Jorgenson turned back to Jeze.


    “You must embrace pain and discomfort. Only find joy with achievement and never rest,” the large warrior explained.


    The female Carl with the facial tattoos joked, “We will get plenty of rest when we are dead!”


    The others cheered in agreement with deep, rumbling voices that shook the air like an approaching thunderstorm.


    Jorgenson turned steely eyes toward Jeze and the other Proven. “You think we are strong, but our journey for advancement is nowhere near the end.” The Carl motioned to a wiry, thin Frostsworn with a scraggly gray beard and piercing ice-blue eyes that looked like they glowed.


    At first, Jeze thought the man was a servant as he carried a huge pack that was nearly as tall as he was. She figured he carried the supplies for the Carls, but she learned the truth when the man took off the pack and placed it on the ground. The earth shook, and that’s when she realized that the pack was filled with large stones, each the size of Jeze’s chest. He ran with that?!? Jeze couldn’t believe it. She also recalled that he was one of the first to finish.


    “That’s Berserker Orn,” Dunar said quietly, awe on his face as clear as the rising sun.


    Berserker was the Frostsworn rank for an Adept. Jeze had never seen an Adept before. Her brother wrote that Adepts have achieved the pinnacle of strength, speed, and discipline that mortals can obtain. Jeze believed that after she saw what the Berserker accomplished. Orn ran fifteen miles with a pack full of stones that weighed several hundred pounds, and he looked fresh as if he just woke up.


    Orn removed his armor and showed a body that rippled with sinewy muscle and riddled with scars. Scars that came from claws, fangs, blades, and arrows. It was clear that the man had been in hundreds of battles. Orn started to slap his body, which resonated loudly.


    “I miss the ice waters of the Dragon Sea,” Orn intoned deeply. The gathered Frostsworn stopped what they were doing and listened.


    “I hunger for battle. Hunger for pain. I hunger for a real challenge. I want to dance alongside death to feel alive,” the Berserker stated and spoke to the surrounding Frostsworn, “Pups if you wish to grow. You need this hunger. You need to only feel comfort when you are challenged and willingly face death. You need to crave this constant struggle of pain and glory. Without that hunger, you are nothing.”


    Jeze felt that passion inside her. She will never be content and will always strive to push her body to its limits. Orn’s voice and message inspired her. She was eager to face the Spire and test her limits.


    “Berserker Orn,” A loud familiar voice called out and Jeze’s heart sank. It was Miss Heng.


    “We are honored and fortunate that you will be among us when we face the Spire,” the Amber Guard continued.


    “Miss Heng, you honor me with your kind words,” Orn responded back with a bow.


    Do they know each other? Jeze couldn’t believe it. The teenager scowled when Miss Heng’s eyes fell on her.


    “I plan to rid this curse of mortality from my body and claim the prize at the top of the Spire!” Orn loudly proclaimed to the cheers of his fellow Frostsworn.


    Miss Heng applauded the Berserker. “I wish you luck in that endeavor. You most certainly have a formidable team.”


    Orn bowed and asked, “And to what do we owe this pleasure?”


    “I bring a message to one of your Proven. May she come with me?” Miss Heng asked.


    “No,” Jeze snapped.


    The gathered Frostsworn chuckled. Orn’s blue eyes twinkled, and he said, “It seems she does not wish to join you.”


    Miss Heng’s stony face hid her rage. She glanced at Jeze and said, “I was bringing you a message that there was an accident last night with the Portals, an explosion.”


    Jeze tilted her head. What did that mean? She wondered.


    “Seb was caught in it and I regret to say that he is no longer with us,” Miss Heng continued, her voice faltered briefly.


    “Where did he teleport to?” Jeze asked.


    Miss Heng shook her head. “I’m sorry child. You misunderstood. Seb was caught in the explosion and died from his injuries.”


    This hit Jeze like a swing from Helga’s weapon. All she could do was stutter, “How did that happen?”


    “He worked too late and too hard and made a careless mistake. It was most unfortunate, and he will be missed. He was,” Miss Heng wiped her eyes and finished, “a friend.”


    Jeze had to sit down, and Dunar rubbed her shoulders.


    “Please, take the time you need to process this news. You are to still to report to the Safe Zone Squad. I will be taking over Seb’s duties until further notice,” Miss Heng said.


    With that, the Amber Guard departed. It was several moments before the news registered in Jeze’s mind. She will be working with Miss Heng. She will be under the influence of the Empire.


    “You will need to be extra careful now,” Ziplocke hissed into her ear.