The five of them didn’t move much—other than Calisco going back to her seat—while Weiss made tea. Two pots of it. During the time, Det took the opportunity to get a better look at the others he hadn’t met before.

  He didn’t bother much with Tena, having gotten more than enough of her in the arena, so his first target was the tea-maker. Weiss was… average looking. That was the best way to describe it. He wasn’t short or tall, heavy or thin, dangerously good looking or ladies-would-need-beer-goggles-to-love-him ugly. He was just right there in the middle.

  On the other hand, every motion he made in the process of making the tea looked exact. Controlled. There were no wasted movements, and while the steady pace looked slow, it was anything but that with how perfectly he did it. What was that saying? Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.

  Weiss was living it, at least with tea making.

  That left Eriba, and as soon as Det moved his attention to her, she seemed to shrink in on herself. The food she’d been cooking on the stove sat half-finished—but at least not still on the burner, thankfully—and she lowered her head to examine her fingers like they were the most interesting thing in the world. Long, dark bangs fell in front of her eyes to hide her face, and overall, she had to be smaller than Calisco.

  Like him, she’d yielded her bout, so he’d pegged her as one of the three Arsenal’s in the group. Based on what Simmons said, though, I guess she could be a Duelist who needs her weapon to use her magic, like the captain does. Guessing wouldn’t give him the answer, so he’d just have to wait for somebody to actually tell him.

  Thankfully, around the same time he finished looking over the others in the room, Weiss brought the tea—complete with cups, super, and milk on a tray—to the coffee table in front of the three couches.

  “If this is going to be a conversation,” Weiss said, emphasizing that last word. “We might as well get comfortable. Does anybody take sugar or milk?”

  “You didn’t even ask us if we drink tea,” Calisco pointed out, but went over to one of the couches and plopped down. Sage and Eriba followed her a second later, while Tena looked at Det for two long seconds before she stomped over to sit on the far edge of one of the couches.

  “Of course you drink tea,” Weiss said. “Unless you’re a savage.”

  “She can be savage,” Det said.

  “Only if you’re a loser,” Calisco called back in a sing-song voice.

  “I thought you two were from the same pillar,” Weiss said, pouring cups of tea with his same, perfect motions while he spoke. “Aren’t you friends?”

  “We’re not friends,” they said in unison, far too much like they’d practiced it. Both of them groaned and shut up after that, Det finding an open spot on the couch furthest from Tena. For him, it wasn’t on purpose, but at least if she tried to spear him again, he’d have an extra second to get out of the way.

  “They keep saying that,” Sage said. “At the same time. It’s kind of hilarious. By the way, what kind of tea is this?”

  “I have no idea,” Weiss said. “I just found it in the cupboard and boiled it.”

  “Are… we sure it’s tea?” Calisco asked, looking at the cup in her hand.

  “I drank some last night,” Weiss said. “It reminds me of an odd cross between Earl Grey and a lavender. I’ve never had anything quite like it. Do not put a third cube of sugar in there,” his words came out like a hiss as Eriba held that third cube of sugar precariously between the sugar bowl and her cup.

  “… I like sweet,” she said quietly.

  “Then just put the sugar directly in your mouth,” Weiss said. “I will not stand by and watch good tea get defiled by that much sugar.”

  “You said we could put milk and sugar in our tea,” Tena defended Eriba, who did exactly as Weiss suggested and threw the sugar cube into her mouth.

  “You even brought the sugar on the tray,” Calisco said, sipping her tea. “Hot. Hot. Hot.”

  “They’ve got you there,” Sage said. “Guess you need to take accountability for your own actions.” The smile on his face and the lilt in his voice made it clear he was just going along with the joke.

  At getting comments from four of the people on the couches, Weiss looked over at Det.

  “I got nothing to complain about,” Det said. “Tea is good.”

  “Well, then,” Sage said, taking another sip before putting his cup down. “Since we’re all settled and happily drinking our tea…”

  “Are there any snacks to go with the tea?” Calisco interrupted. “I dunno, a scone or a biscuit or something? Oh, oh, oh, do we have any strawberry shortcake?”

  “We don’t have any straw…” Det started.

  “I’ll make some,” Eriba said quietly, then got up and speed-walked over to the kitchen, head down the entire time.

  In silence—between sips—the others watched as she pulled what looked like strawberries and cream from the fridge, as well as some biscuits from a cupboard. It barely took her a few minutes to heat up the biscuits, whip up some thick cream, cut the berries, then throw it all together.

  Before Det had even finished his first cup of tea—Calisco was right, it was hot—Eriba was back, six plates balanced on her hands and arms. And, as they were laid out on the table—and claimed by the rest of the group—Det could only think one thing. They were gorgeous.

  “You two should definitely team up,” Det said, looking at the combination of tea and shortcake.

  “Oh mir gird,” Calisco said, eyes wide and a fork sticking out of her mouth. “So gurd!”

  That was all the cue Det needed to give his own a try. And, damn, it was good. Maybe a touch on the sweet side, but only barely, and the consistency of the heavy cream? Heavenly.

  “We’re procrastinating,” Sage said, until he put a piece of the shortcake in his own mouth. After that, well, there were no more words—from anybody—until the dessert was finished. A few sips of tea followed, along with some contented sighs, and the previous tension from the room had faded.

  Funny how good food and tea does that…

  “Did you really clear an E-Rank dungeon all by yourself?” Tena asked. There wasn’t disbelief in her voice or anything, just the clear need to get the story.

  “Not exactly,” Det said. “I had help from…”

  “You said you did it solo,” Tena interrupted.

  “… my magic,” Det finished.

  “Oh,” Tena said.

  “Maybe you should stop interrupting him for once?” Sage gently suggested.

  “I’m seeing how that might be smart,” Tena admitted to Sage, then looked again at Det. “No other ReSouled?”

  “No other ReSouled,” Det confirmed. “Calisco had already gone back to tag along with the general, captain, and Jeckles. That just left me to look around the town and the emergence.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “… the town?” Sage said, his eyes flicking side to side like he was putting the pieces together. “A dungeon in its infancy. An emergence. A situation we have to make sure we don’t share. And, now a town? Were you two involved in a dungeon burst?”

  Det nodded. “That’s what they called it.”

  “Which pillar?” Sage said. “Your home? Radiant?”

  “No,” Det said. “It was a placed called Ironsalt.”

  “Shit,” Sage said. “I know of that town. Simmons said you rescued survivors, how’s the town?”

  “Gone,” Calisco said, for once staying respectful to the topic. “The three Det found were the only ones left. It was a bloodbath.”

  “And, even though Captain Simmons said I could tell you about it, it’s not general knowledge yet,” Det added. “So, like everything else connected to Wordless, don’t talk about it, okay?”

  The news of the lost town settled over the group with varying degrees of impact. It was a lot to hear a town—a whole pillar—was basically gone. On the other hand, it was still distant for most of them. They’d never been to Ironsalt or met people from there. The glum silence filled the room for a full thirty seconds before somebody spoke up.

  “What’s… a dungeon burst?” Eriba asked in her quiet voice.

  Everybody looked at Sage to provide the explanation.

  “Okay, you know what dungeons, emergences, and Wordless are, roughly, yeah?” Sage said.

  Eriba shook her head. “I’ve seen Wordless—my magic only works with them—but what’s the difference between a dungeon and emergence?” By the time she finished speaking, her words were barely above the sound of taking a breath, with the other five all leveling their attention on her.

  “The difference is small, but important,” Sage said. “An emergence is where a dungeon breaches. It’s the word we use when the dungeon has an entrance—or an exit, I guess—that connects to the outside. See, dungeons can exist completely underground, and as long as there is no emergence, they aren’t a threat. The Wordless can’t get out without an emergence. Make sense?”

  “I understand,” Eriba said quietly. “A burst?”

  “Uhhh, lessee,” Sage said, tilting his head back as he thought about it. “Think about it like this. Dungeons produce Wordless, like a factory. Normally, those Wordless don’t leave the dungeon, no matter what, until their numbers reach a certain point. It’s different for every dungeon, but once they meet that threshold, Wordless start spilling out through the emergence. This is what we call a dungeon burst; Wordless outside the dungeons.”

  “Why doesn’t every dungeon burst?” Eriba asked.

  “Bosses,” Sage said. “Every dungeon has one, and they’re much stronger than the normal Wordless found around them. I don’t know why, but they act like a lynchpin somehow. As long as the Boss is alive, the dungeons will continue to produce Wordless. As soon as a Boss is killed, the dungeon kind of goes into sleep mode, the production—the factory—pausing until the Boss gets rebuilt by the dungeon.

  “One of our jobs as ReSouled Mistguard will be to go into dungeons as a party of six to kill Bosses. This will prevent them from bursting.”

  “What you’re saying, then,” Tena said. “There was a burst on Ironsalt. Meaning, what? E-Rank Wordless attacked the town?”

  “Wiped out the town,” Det said. “When I found the survivors, the ants—that’s what the Wordless looked like—were dragging them to some kind of… mulcher.”

  “I’m just going to throw this in here,” Calisco said. “But these ants weren’t ant-sized. Smallest one I saw was as big as a cat. Biggest one was more… what would you say, Det? Tank-sized?

  “At least,” Det said, thinking back to how big the queen had been. Before General Vans smooshed it.

  “What’s a mulcher?” Weiss asked while the others contemplated ants that big.

  “Like a wood-chipper,” Det said. “The ants were feeding the people to it.”

  “Ugh,” Weiss said, looking down at the plate stained with streaks of red from the strawberries on it. “I’m glad you didn’t tell us this while we were eating.”

  “You killed the Boss?” Tena said. “Stopped the dungeon from making more Wordless?”

  “I did,” Det said.

  “For now,” Sage added. “Dungeons always produce new Bosses. They, uh, they respawn. Takes different lengths of time depending on the dungeon, but an E-Rank dungeon? Might even be next day. But, I’m sure the Mistguard have people there watching and clearing the Boss as soon it’s back.”

  “Are they going to teach us all this?” Tena asked Sage. “Is that how you learned it?”

  “They taught my uncle,” Sage said. “He told me a lot of this before I came to the academy. I’m sure there’s stuff I don’t know. We’ll find out in our classes.

  “In the meantime, we should probably do what the captain suggested. If we’re going to be working together, and relying on one another to watch our backs, we should get an idea what each of us can do, magic wise. I’ll go first.

  “The reason I yielded in the arena is because my magic only works on Wordless. I can basically control them. Make them fight for me, or really, do anything else I want.”

  “Wow,” Det said, thinking back to his own fight with the Wordless. “How many can you control at once? And, how strong?”

  “Only one at a time, at my Rank,” Sage said. “They’re hoping I’ll be able to do more as I get stronger. As for what Rank I can control, my own Rank. So, anything E-Rank, for now. Like the numbers, it should go up as I Rank-up.”

  “Could you control one of those Bosses?” Weiss said. “Make it lie down so we could kill it without it fighting back?”

  “Yes to the first—maybe, they tend to be stronger, and I haven’t gotten to test it—and no to the second,” Sage said. “I can control a Wordless, but as soon as I make a move to hurt it, my control breaks. I could make it fight other Wordless for me, and it doesn’t matter how much they hurt it, it’ll still be under my control. It’s only if I—or somebody else on my side—does damage to it that my control breaks.”

  “How does the Wordless under your control decide if who hurt it is on your side or not?” Weiss said.

  “Magic?” Sage said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I haven’t had a lot of time to test it. Just the one time they took me in to find out if that was a limitation of my magic.”

  “Same… with me,” Eriba said quietly. “I need Wordless for my magic, and I only found out because they took me into a dungeon to test it.”

  “Is that normal?” Det said. “General Vans made a huge deal about how secret dungeons and Wordless were, but they just randomly take new cadets in?”

  “It’s not random,” Sage said, when it was clear Eriba wasn’t going to volunteer to answer. “How it was explained to me—after confirming what my magic does—was that any ReSouled who haven’t shown their magic by the time the Mistguard pick them up, go through this. Apparently, cycles ago, there were ReSouled the Mistguard thought were faulty. Turns out, they just hadn’t been exposed to Wordless. After that happened once by accident, they made it a standard test.”

  “And you found out you can control them with the power of your mind?” Calisco said, putting her fingers against the sides of her head and squinting real hard at Sage.

  “… with the power of my magic,” Sage said.

  “Are you going to go bald and need a wheelchair?”

  “It’s not with my mind…”

  “Didn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m not going to… I mean, I hope not. My hair’s too good to lose.”

  “Not as good as Captain Simmons’,” Eriba said, voice as quiet as ever. As soon as everybody else looked at her, red climbed from her neck to her cheeks, and right up to her hairline.

  “Oh ho ho,” Calisco said. “Somebody’s got a crush on the teacher.”

  “His hair is impressive,” Weiss admitted. “I was sure it was his magic.”

  “Me too!” Det said, until Weiss raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you were, uh, joking, huh? Me too. Me… too… that’s what I mean. Me too, I was joking. Ha ha. Kill me.”

  Calisco immediately threw her hand into the air. “Pick me, pick me! I’ll do it.”

  “Moving on, before murder ensues,” Sage said, spinning and pointing at Eriba despite her attempt to hide her face in her teacup. “What does your magic let you do?”

  “Mri mran mrake mrerdless mrindo mrickmracks,” Eriba… said? The mumbling around the lip of the cup and the bubbles with each word were both unintelligible and kind of adorable.

  Nat had gone through a shy phase when she’d entered junior-high, and Eriba’s behavior reminded Det of the night before her first day.

  “I… didn’t catch that,” Tena said. “I must be sitting too far away. Could you repeat it?”

  Eriba lowered the cup slowly from her lips, face red again. “Sorry,” she said.

  “No need to apologize,” Tena said, sticking her pinky finger in her ear and wiggling it around. “I might just be a little deaf after somebody exploded another cadet in the duels earlier.”

  “He didn’t recognize my awesomeness,” Calisco said in her own defense. “I had to show him.”

  “And you did,” Sage said. “But, Eriba, your magic?”

  “I can make knick-knacks out of Wordless parts,” Eriba said.

  “Knick-knacks?” Calisco said. “Like friendship bracelets and phone bangles?”

  Det… couldn’t even, and by the looks on the faces of the others, he wasn’t the only one.

  “I made a gun and a servo-assisted, power vambrace from the Wordless my escorts killed,” Eriba said.

  “I’d call that way more than a knick-knack,” Sage said. “Where are they?”

  “They broke down as soon as we left the dungeon,” Eriba said.

  “So, they only last as long as you’re in the dungeon?” Weiss said, and Eriba nodded before diving back into her teacup.

  “Meaning, when you first enter a dungeon, you can’t use your magic until you kill something?” Sage said.

  Eriba nodded again, with the bubbling sound coming from her teacup.

  “That’s… difficult,” Tena said.

  “But,” Det said. “The longer she’s in the dungeon, killing Wordless, the stronger she’s going to get, as she has more parts to work with. Eriba,” he said, a bit of excitement leaking out of his voice. “Did you figure out how the Wordless work? I tried to puzzle it out, but they don’t follow the same rules of as something on Earth would.”

  “Kind of?” Eriba said, perking up a bit at his genuine interest. “It was kind of like… intuition? I just knew what I could do with the parts, and how to put them together to make what I saw in my mind.”

  “That’s fascinating,” Det said. “If we really do get to go into a dungeon—an E-Rank one that doesn’t kill us—I’d love to work with you to see what makes those things tick.”

  “Does your magic need Wordless too?” Tena said. “Like hers?”

  “Nah,” Det said. “I was a mechanic back on Earth. I always liked pulling things apart to see if I could put them back together again. Had a graveyard of VCRs.”

  “Ah, so you’re just a psycho,” Calisco said.

  “… do you even know what a VCR is?”

  “Nope!”

  “Which is an excellent segue into what the next person can do,” Sage said, taking a deep breath. “Det, you’re up.”

  Discord