“There’s something strange about the owner,” Det said, sitting with the other five in a corner of the shawarma shop. Except, he wasn’t eating a shawarma, because the place wasn’t actually a shawarma shop. It was a sandwich shop, which Det wasn’t complaining about. He’d ordered something the owner had called a fiery pork bomb, and, with half of it practically inhaled, Det really only had one thing to say about it.

  It was da bomb.

  He groaned internally at the use of his own bad slang. He was too old to talk like that.

  And he wished he’d ordered two.

  “Because he can make a good sammich, a good shawarma, and a pita wrap from the gods?” Tena said. The pita in question had barely a few bites left to it, and that was likely only because Tena was busy licking the dressing off her fingers. “This sauce…” she practically moaned in pleasure.

  “I mean,” Det said. “It’s a little unfair how good this food is. I can barely make a grilled cheese that’s passable, and that’s only after years of dad-practice for a picky kid, but no. It’s more than that. When I look at him, I feel like…”

  “He’s a ReSouled,” Calisco said between bites of her po’boy, complete with this world’s version of shrimp and something like crawfish. All deep fried, of course.

  “What?” Det said, looking at the man behind the counter. A little on the pudgier side, he had to be in his mid-forties, with a receding hairline, and glasses perched on his nose. Kind of like dad-Det back from Earth. “No, he can’t be. If he was, why would he be working in a sandwich shop?”

  “Because I started the sandwich shop myself after I finished the academy,” the owner said from behind the counter. “Built it from the ground up. Not that I’m listening to your conversation or anything, but ReSouled have good ears.”

  “Uh… sorry,” Det said. “I didn’t mean anything bad about working here. I just…”

  “Wondered why I wasn’t out on the front lines throwing myself in front of Uncored monstrosities?” the owner countered with a good-natured laugh. “And, no, I’m not talking about the last item on my menu.” He thumbed over his shoulder to the line item, Uncored Monstrosity. Some kind of avocado sandwich from the ingredients listed.

  “Kind of, I guess,” Det said. “Really, these…” he gestured to the almost empty plates in front of the six new cadets. “… these are amazing. You should be proud of them. But… why?”

  “I like feeding people,” the shop owner said simply.

  “That’s it?” Det said.

  “It’s the main point, yeah,” the owner said.

  “Your magic is related to food,” Sage said, and it wasn’t a question.

  The shop owner tapped his own nose and pointed at Sage. “Got it in one. Food I prepare gives minor or major buffs to the people who eat it. Your sammich,” the owner said, nodding in Det’s direction. “Minor resistance to heat and fire. The po’boy there—one of my favorites—will aid in stamina recovery after a long day.”

  “Is that why I feel like I just drank a quad-shot espresso?” Calisco said.

  “Yup, though it won’t keep you from falling asleep tonight,” the owner said.

  “I’m never eating anything else ever again,” Calisco said.

  “I have a point-card system,” the owner said, pointing to a little sign on the counter.

  “Give me all your cards,” Calisco said to the other five sitting with her. “I want your stamps.”

  “My stamp,” Eriba said, gripping her card and holding it to her chest.

  “I think we’ll all be regulars,” Sage said, sliding his own stamp card off the table where it’d sat beside his plate. It vanished a second later into a pocket of his uniform. The cadets didn’t need to carry cash—thanks to the ID system—but the stamp cards suddenly felt like gold.

  “And you’ll always be welcome here,” the shop owner said, arms open wide like he was inviting them to his shop again for the first time. “But, you,” he said to Det. “You look like you still have questions.”

  “I guess I do,” Det admitted.

  “Since you’re the only ones here right now, go ahead and ask,” the owner said. “I’m Zedic, by the way. Or, if you want my Mistguard name, that’d be Gourmet.”

  “It’s okay, I don’t want to seem rude,” Det said. “The food really is good.”

  “It’s not rude,” Zedic said. “And, if it makes you feel better, you can do me a favor in exchange. Tell your classmates about my shop.”

  “No!” Calisco said. “I don’t want to have to deal with lines. As soon as the others know, this place will always be packed.”

  “It’s usually a lot busier than this,” Zedic said. “I’ve been here long enough I’ve got a steady stream of regulars. You all just happened to come in after the dinner rush finished. I’d normally be closing up right about now, but I couldn’t say no to a few new faces.”

  “Oh…” Det said at the same time the others started to move, hands going to what was left of their food. “We won’t keep you then. Sorry for…”

  “Don’t you dare stand up before finishing my food,” Zedic said with sudden intensity to his voice, freezing everybody where they were. “It’s an insult to the chef,” he added with a cheeky grin that almost made Det forget about the sensation that had gone through his body at the first statement.

  Like a deer caught in headlights.

  “Uh, right, we’ll just… keep eating then,” Det said.

  “Was always my plan,” Calisco said, before stuffing her face with her po’boy.

  “And ask your questions,” Zedic said. “But, sorry, I’m already happily married, so let’s keep the flirting to a minimum. Unless it’s about my food, cause then flattery will get you everywhere.”

  “When did you come to Elestar?” Weiss asked while Det was still collecting himself from the sudden changes in atmosphere.

  One second, Zedic was a jovial and proud shop owner. Within the blink of an eye, he was like a hungry predator freezing Det in its gaze. Then, just like that, back to the happy sandwich maker.

  “Three cycles ago now,” Zedic said. “And, if you’re wondering about my impressive dad-bod—ladies, try not to swoon too much—I’m C-Ranked.” To add emphasis to his words, he patted his slight belly with both hands.

  “When did you leave the Mistguard?” Tena said.

  “What would make you think I did at all?” Zedic countered.

  “… the shop?” she said, doubt or disbelief in her voice.

  “This is my other job,” Zedic said. “I’m still part of the Mistguard, but probably not like you imagine. Sure, I went through all the same training you’re likely going through… wait, was today your first or second day?”

  “Second, I guess?” Sage said. “It was getting-hanged-and-drowned day.”

  Zedic winced. “Let me get you some kettle chips, on the house,” he said as he vanished behind a curtain into the back of the shop. Less than a minute later, he returned with a big, wicker bowl, piled high with thick-cut, kettle chips. Out from behind the counter with a practiced swivel of his hips to avoid the corner, and he dropped the dish off in the middle of the table.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Those’ll help with the mental trauma from today,” Zedic explained.

  “Your magic can make them do that?” Det said, immediately grabbing one and shoving it in his mouth.

  “No,” Zedic laughed. “They’re kettle chips. Kettle chips make everything better.”

  Given the chip in his mouth was equally as delicious as the pork bomb, Det couldn’t argue. Something about the chip blended perfectly with the leftover spice in his mouth. Zedic wasn’t just a sandwich maker—or sandwich artist—he was a mad genius.

  “You get it,” Zedic said while Det—and the others—each grabbed a handful of chips and put them on their plates for easier access. Less distance to shovel them into their mouths. “Back to what I was saying, I went through all the same training you did today, and what will come over your three years, but that doesn’t mean I was meant for the battlefield.

  “Sure, I can swing a hammer like nobody’s business, and I’m pretty good with a knife too. My magic though? It’s not really cut out for standing face-to-face with an Uncored.”

  “You got classified as an Arsenal?” Det asked, Sage nodding beside him in agreement with the assessment.

  “Yeah,” Zedic said. “Even went out with a few groups, until the upper brass saw where I could be better used.”

  “Making customers weak in the knees over your sandwiches?” Calisco said, licking her fingers and staring at the last quarter of her po’boy like she couldn’t decide what to do with it. If she ate it, then it would be gone. She wouldn’t have any more left.

  How did Det know what she was thinking? Because he was going through the exact same existential crisis over his pork bomb. I’ll actually have to order a second…

  “That’s just my secret power, and how I met my wife,” Zedic laughed at Calisco’s question.

  “Cooking for a single party isn’t as efficient as cooking for a larger group,” Weiss said.

  “Bingo,” Zedic said. “I can prepare a few ingredients or a lot of ingredients for about the same amount of energy, as long as they are all in preparation of the same meal. The Mistguard has me prepping lunch boxes that go to different garrisons that’re seeing an uptick in activity. Or, if there is a big deployment or mission going on, they’ll fly me out to help prepare the daily meals. Give the whole force the benefits of my food buffs.”

  “A little bit of faster stamina recovery would be helpful…” Tena said and trailed off.

  “Is the least of what I can do,” Zedic said, pride on his face. “I don’t put much magic into these. That’s more a side-effect than anything else.”

  “Hold the friggin phone,” Calisco said. “The food is this good and it isn’t because of magic? Can you adopt me?”

  “I don’t think my wife would go for that,” Zedic said. “You’re welcome back to my shop anytime.”

  “Can I bribe your wife?” Calisco tried one more time. When Zedic shook his head, she consoled herself by plopping the last bite of the po’boy into her mouth.

  “If this is just a side-effect,” Det said. “Can I ask what your buffs can really do?”

  “Regeneration is one of the favorites,” Zedic said. “Improvement of everybody’s magic—no matter what that magic is—is another. I’ve got a meal that make people more difficult to see, like a kind of camouflage, a five-dish course that offers resistances to the elements, and even one that adds a ghostly copy that duplicates attacks.

  “That one isn’t very strong—since I’m only C-Rank—so we tend to focus on the buffs that are more intrinsic and just apply to the eater. They work better, even on B and A-Ranks.”

  “Are you going to get to B-Rank?” Tena asked. “Would that make your buffs stronger?”

  “It would,” Zedic said, his grin slipping for a second—for the first time—before he got it back in place. “As for whether or not I’ll Rank up again…? I don’t know if I want to, and I don’t know if it’s going to happen. I got to C-Rank almost two cycles ago, and I’ve been making meals since then. I definitely get experience for my cooking, but it doesn’t come as fast as somebody’s whose magic is a little more combat oriented.”

  “Why don’t you know if you want to Rank up?” Det said. “Why wouldn’t you?"

  “I’m already aging slow,” Zedic said. “My wife, she isn’t ReSouled like me. I’m going to outlive her by a lot. Maybe even my sons. They’re old enough to be your parents, and some days people mistake me for their younger brother.

  “This shop, and them, they’re my whole world. I’m not sure what I’ll do when they aren’t in it anymore. Knowing an end is coming, eventually, makes it a bit easier. I know I’ll be with them again, and it won’t be so long.”

  The sudden heaviness of the admission had everybody around the table pausing.

  “What about the drive?” Tena said. “Every ReSouled has it.”

  “Every ReSouled has a version of the drive,” Zedic corrected gently. “We all have something we want to accomplish, or something we’re looking for.”

  “I didn’t know about that second one,” Weiss said.

  “It rolls up into the first one, most of the time,” Zedic said. “For some of us, it can be an important difference.”

  “What were you looking for?” Det said, though he already knew the answer before the shop owner spoke.

  “Family,” the man said.

  “That’s… it?” Tena said.

  Zedic laughed. “You say that like it’s a small thing. It’s not so easy for all of us to find.”

  “But you were born into a family here,” Tena said.

  At the statement, Zedic shook his head. “My… parents… weren’t bad people,” he started.

  “But you weren’t their son,” Det finished for him. “Not really.”

  “Exactly,” Zedic said. “When they realized I was ReSouled, they kind of disconnected. I still remember the way Yil’s face—that was my mother here—the way her face changed when she figured it out. A combination of confusion, then heartbreak, guilt, anger, then… then she broke. Having me, who she didn’t ask for, meant she could never have another child. She didn’t take it well.

  “Don’t get the wrong idea,” Zedic quickly amended. “She still took care of me. But, she was more like a live-in nanny than my mother.”

  Much like Zedic’s earlier words, the effect was a silence around the table.

  “Not to get all heavy with you on your first visit,” the sandwich maker said with his friendly smile sliding back into place. “But, you’re ReSouled, like me. I’m sure you get it.”

  Tena and Eriba nodded like they understood all too well. Calisco, she just shrugged and licked the last of the sauce off her fingers. Weiss and Sage, though? They looked like they understood, but hadn’t gone through the same thing.

  Weiss’ face said he’d actually had a loving family, a soft expression of pity for the others who hadn’t had the comfort of that around them. Sage, on the other hand, he was more complicated to try and figure out. There was an instant of the same sadness from Tena and Eriba, followed by a scowl of an anger like Det felt at being torn from his world and brought to Elestar. Something so raw and deep, it could consume him if he let it. That passed within a heartbeat, replaced with iron determination.

  Then, as soon as Sage noticed Det watching him, the other man met his eyes for a second—like he was wondering what Det had seen—then gave a wink and went back to his sandwich.

  “I understand that all too well,” Tena finally said, breaking the silence. “And, I’m happy to hear you found somebody who makes you happy.”

  “But?” Zedic prompted, feeling the word hanging unsaid in the air above all their heads.

  “The drive,” Tena said. “The ReSouled who came to get me from my pillar. They told me every ReSouled has it. It’s how we’ll get through this first week without breaking. How we’ll go on to fight the Uncored or—heaven forbid—the Cored. It’s what keeps us all going.”

  “How much do you know about the drive?” Zedic countered.

  “Wait, it’s actually a thing?” Det interrupted. “I thought it was just some flowery language to motivate us?”

  “Depends who you ask,” Weiss said. “Some people say it’s just that…”

  “Then they’d be the wrong people to ask,” Sage said. “The drive is real. We all have it, though it’s not the same thing for everybody, like Zedic said.”

  “He’s right,” Zedic said. “For whatever reason, everybody who’s born as a ReSouled has something they’re working towards. Something so ingrained in us, we won’t stop moving for anything until we’ve accomplished it. Some, like me, don’t even know what it is until we find it.”

  “I’m going to be the best,” Calisco said without missing a beat. “The number one ReSouled. Ever.”

  “You’re going to be better than The Wall or the headmaster?” Zedic said, an eyebrow going up.

  “Yup. Just watch me.”

  “That’s a… a lofty goal,” Weiss said.

  “You can do it,” Eriba said quietly.

  “It’s exactly the kind of drive I’m talking about,” Zedic said.

  “That’s probably just Calisco being Calisco,” Det said, until the woman looked at him with such steel in her eyes, it was almost like a different person sitting at the table.

  “I will be number one,” she said, hands clenching into fists. “I’m done with being second place or second choice. You can joke or doubt me all you want, but you won’t get in my way.”

  “No, I…” Det started, caught off guard by the fire in her words. “I’m sorry I made a joke about it. I didn’t realize you were that serious.”

  “I am.”

  “I can see that now.”

  “Good, and don’t’ forget it,” Calisco said, her hands unclenching in front of her. “Just watch me,” she added softly again.

  Tena coughed, and when it was obvious Calisco wasn’t going to say anything, she went back to asking Zedic her questions. “What about your drive, then?”

  “That’s the thing they don’t tell you,” Zedic said. “Even though it’s like the drive is hard-coded into our DNA, when we finally meet the goal, it’s like a valve loosening inside you. The forward momentum you’ve had so long starts easing off. Growing, getting stronger—or whatever you want to call it—stops being so important.

  “Before then, you don’t even realize how it’s influencing you. Everything seems to make sense. Everything seems to be worth it. The fighting. The training. The pain. The… other things you’ll see or do. They won’t really matter as long as they serve the purpose of helping you take one more step forward on whatever path you’ve set for yourself. Like becoming number one.

  “That endless motivation—in the face of any challenge—is one of the biggest strengths of being a ReSouled. Also one of the biggest dangers.”

  “How can motivation be dangerous?” Weiss said.

  “You’ve heard of rogue ReSouled?” Zedic countered.

  Det winced. He could see where this was going. How he felt some days.

  “They’re the cautionary tale—the warning—about how doing anything to accomplish your goal, to satisfying your drive, can go so very, horribly wrong,” Zedic continued.