Ranthia had mostly… almost… kind of (ish) recovered from her L-word-induced freakout by the time she arrived. Though the sight of the colosseum cooled her off immensely. Gods she swore she could almost smell blood in the air, even before she entered the damned thing. She hadn’t let herself wonder why they were there, but for the first time in a while she was sorely tempted to just turn around and leave. The silver gong—just a terrible swim away—called to her.

  Why on Pallos did the Ranger Academy want them participating in such horrific horseshit?!

  “Ah, Trainee Ranthia, excellent!” Instructor Mage C’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

  He and Statia were standing near an entrance and he waved her over.

  “The others should be coming out of the stands any moment now.” He continued.

  “Is everything okay?” Statia asked once Ranthia reached them.

  Statia was, roughly, somewhere around Ranthia’s age, maybe a bit younger. Her hair was senselessly long, in a rich, nutty dark brown color that was only a few shades lighter than Ranthia’s own. The young woman used to be wispy thin, but she had really gained some definition from her time at the Ranger Academy.

  “Um, yeah.” Ranthia replied while they walked through tunnels, led by their instructor.

  Her blush was mostly under control, but its final remnants refused to go away since her mind helpfully reminded her of her words almost constantly. No matter how she tried to distract herself from her lovesick embarrassment.

  The other young woman had been about to ask a follow-up question when the other trainees arrived, shortly after the trio reached a poorly lit room. There they got lined up in front of their instructor.

  “Alright, those of you that have been watching the other matches might have figured this out, but the eight of you will be part of this morning’s entertainment! We’re going to have you all fight a creature that the colosseum sourced, as a team. I wasn’t provided with details about your opponent, but your goal is to put on a good fight. Beat it or just survive with style, keep the crowds happy for your own sakes!”

  Ranthia made a quiet disgusted noise.

  “Problem, Trainee Ranthia?” The instructor asked.

  Oops, she hadn’t been as quiet as she thought.

  “Sorry, Sir. I’m just not a fan of the colosseum or fighting for blood sport. Also, I’m not sure what I will get out of this. …Sir!”

  She would have never said that last part if her mind hadn’t been distracted by Hexara. She bit her tongue and forced herself into the present.

  “Oh, yes, that reminds me. Orders from Sentinel Hunting for Trainee Ranthia!”

  He produced a very familiar length of blue cloth and handed it to her.

  “…He cannot be serious…!” Ranthia gasped in shocked outrage.

  “I’ll repeat only what he told me: ‘You are to wear that. If you remove it before I tell you to, you will be severely punished and will regret it, even if you had a damn good reason. You are to try to avoid using them, but if you must you are restricted to one at a time and only as an image.’ He also said you would know which to use.” The instructor looked more than a little confused at his message.

  Ranthia swore, colorfully, and tied the blindfold over her eyes. …To the collective gasps and guffaws of the other trainees.

  She took back every nice thought she had ever had of the man. Sentinel Hunting was a monster that was going to get her killed!

  “Gentlemen and ladies! Turn your attention to the North Gate and give it up for the future guardians of Remus, a Ranger Trainee Team! And what’s this?! …Seriously what is that? Aha, I am getting word that one of them has sworn an oath to never look upon their enemy in battle! What kind of show can we expect from these?!”

  The noise of the crowd seemed unchanged from background chatter. Clearly this match was not meant to be peak entertainment.

  “And now to the South Gate! Behold a newcomer, a ferocious dinosaur found and subdued just this very morning by the experts! With teeth that can carve through almost anything and power to crush stone! Give it up for Keeeerusher, the abelisaurus!”

  “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” One of the other trainees—possibly one of the mages—screamed.

  “It’s lower level than she is! We can do this!” That was Statia.

  “The bitch is blind, she’s dead weight! Godsdamnit she pissed off some Sentinel she was fucking and now we’re all going to die!” He snapped in response.

  Ranthia made note of the voice. Whoever that was would not get off the hook.

  Ranthia was the highest level person in their team, by nearly 40 levels. The group’s panic suggested the creature was close to her [Mage] class’ level—not that even [Divine-Touched Identify] could magically work through a freaking blindfold. Still, it was weird that they seemed to believe things were so hopeless.

  Did the idiots really believe the Academy was wasteful enough to execute a full team of trainees?

  “Uh, guys, is it just me or do its teeth look way too shiny? Are they metal!?” Another mage? Maybe guard guy?

  Gods, she had never realized existing through sound alone would be so hard!

  “Enough whining, are you children or are you Rangers?! Bitey, muzzle off. Harass it but be careful, boy. Mages, form a line and bleed it! Frontliners, get in there and keep its attention!”

  They came together under the leadership of the man with the saber-tooth tiger (at least his voice was obvious). Ranthia kept her mouth shut and tried to focus on her ears.

  The trainees started to move.

  Ranthia drew her knives and felt their familiar, well-worn curves. Their not-so-subtle, reassuring weight. So, she couldn’t see a thing. So what? She had her ears. She had [Combat Awareness]. And she had [The Flow of Battle]. She had everything she needed! …She hoped.

  She moved.

  Even with her complete inexperience at fighting blind, it was easy to tell exactly where the abelisaurus was. Every move it made sent shockwaves through the ground. Ranthia hesitated a moment, then knelt down and cut her feet free from her sandals. This granted her another valuable sense, though she hated to waste a perfectly good pair of sandals.

  Cracks filled the air as stone and metal pinged off the dinosaur’s thick hide. There was too much noise. The saber-tooth tiger’s snarls. The curses of the other trainees. The sounds of the mages’ spells.

  So Ranthia—on the spot—learned to tune things out. It was kind of like the deep focused state she entered when she made her mental images. She allowed in what she needed. The rest splashed off her focus.

  Or at least that was the intent. Her effectiveness… varied.

  Some sounds were necessary. She had to keep some level of attention on the noise of the crowd—that would be a heavy indicator of the status of her nominal allies. She had to track every sound the dinosaur made to know its mood, focus, and direction—let alone the attacks it made. The announcer, grudgingly, needed to be heard, though she would have to distill useful intel out of his drivel. The shouts of her allies, similarly, had to be filtered for the useful components, though she would pay full attention to the man that seized command.

  It wasn’t like she could lead while fucking blind. She couldn’t afford the distraction, but she still shook an angry mental fist at Sentinel Hunting’s existence.

  Awkwardly, Ranthia moved until she arrived in the vicinity of the dinosaur. Nearly the very moment she arrived [Combat Awareness] started to metaphorically scream at her, but she had already begun to move before it even triggered. Some instinct, borne of her skills, had demanded it. [A Void Dance] let her slide clear of… whatever it was that she evaded (had she mentioned that she was absolutely hating every moment of this?). Worse, her own counterattack came too slow, or she swung at the wrong angle or something—her knives only met empty air.

  “I can do this.” She whispered angrily to herself.

  “[Sporebomb], everyone back!”

  Ranthia sprinted backward from the dinosaur until she thought she was far enough away. A deceptively quiet pop filled the air, followed by a noise that reminded her of a swarm of tiny insects in the jungle. A very close noise. She hurriedly retreated further away.

  For a moment the sounds of the dinosaur seemed subdued, then she figured it must have erupted from the cloud. The noise it made suddenly got louder once it was clear, and she could hear the massive beast moving. Based on the screaming, it seemed to be bound for the [Mages].

  “Bitey, redirect it!” Their leader cried out.

  Seconds later, a crack and a loud yowling screech.

  More screams and cursing, none of it was useful.

  Ranthia moved.

  No.

  She danced.

  Each step felt increasingly graceful and steady. Every Skill that might help was active. [Combat Awareness] more-or-less offered her a zone of awareness of attacks that might hit her, which—hopefully—meant that she could risk getting into the [Mages]’s line of fire. [Image Recall] was ready to feed the image of herself with her blindfold to [Scattered Reflections], if she needed it (though it’d be of her in the issued tunic rather than the armor, not that it mattered for a dumb dino). [The Flow of Battle] guided her movements for her approach and somehow—she hoped—the skill helped her find where she needed to be. [A Void Dance] was ready to guide her around the abelisaurus’ attacks or friendly fire (this would be a terrible time for it to turn out to suck). [Critical Strike] always helped guide her blades, no matter how disappointed she had been in it. And of course [Void Edge] and [Cross Strike] were there to make her strikes hurt.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  On skill-guided instinct, Ranthia leapt into the air. Less than a heartbeat later she felt the dinosaur’s tail in [Combat Awareness]—and through the wind pressure—as it swept beneath her. She landed, rolled, and recovered her feet before she suddenly moved to the side.

  And immediately struck out with her knife in her right hand, [Void Edge] and [Cross Strike] activated a touch late, but still to useful effect. It was hard to miss the howling roar of pain, after all.

  Ranthia continued to move as she danced away from the leg(?) that she struck. She couldn’t see to confirm, but that was what it felt like at least. The dinosaur turned and immediately her left hand lashed out.

  Another howling roar of pain! She really could do this!

  Ranthia rushed to nimbly retreat from the leg(s?), though she could easily feel the ground tremoring as the dinosaur followed.

  If she died, she was going to beg Xaoc to curse Hunting.

  She twirled to the side, guided by her skills. And shivered when the dinosaur’s jaws closed where she was with a sound not wholly unrelated to thunder. That had been… far, far too fucking close!

  The dinosaur’s head entered [Combat Awareness]’s notice as the foolhardy beast swept its skull toward her. She punished it for the tactical blunder; both of her knives struck its flesh and the skull beneath. By the sound of it, the beast reared back before it voiced its pain at the greatest volume yet. Which was great, though Ranthia was already trying to reposition. She had no doubt it was going to go for her again, and she needed to—

  Yes, she screwed up. She had been far too focused on her battle with the beast. Like a rank amateur she completely ignored her allies, she sacrificed her battlefield awareness. The attack had been called, but she remained ignorant.

  The [Sporebomb] detonated with her inside of it.

  What few senses she had been forced to rely on effectively winked out. A thick cloud of something sealed almost all sound and padded the wind around her. [Combat Awareness] became worthless and had to be shut off; she was literally engulfed inside an attack. Fortunately, she still had enough sense to hold her breath.

  She ran, now truly blind.

  The dinosaur had either lashed out blindly, or it wasn’t even intended as an attack and was just part of the dinosaur’s own efforts to escape the spore cloud. No matter the explanation, its tail struck the ground right next to her. It wasn’t a direct hit, but the blow felt like a force of nature erupted in close proximity.

  Ranthia never saw it coming, she just suddenly found herself knocked away and tumbled not-so-gracefully. In the aftermath, Ranthia was left dizzy between the blow and the strain of holding her breath. Was she even clear of the accursed spore attack yet?!

  “And with that ruling, the match is over! Here come the colosseum’s beast tamers to corral Keeeerusher! Give her and the Ranger Trainee Team a hand!” Suddenly, it seemed that she could hear again.

  Immediately Ranthia gasped for air. But something was wrong, even while she sat there and tried to focus on breathing. Her lungs burned and she started coughing, even with the clean air. Had she taken a breath inside that damned attack without realizing it?!

  “Are you okay?” Statia’s voice asked from nearby a moment later.

  “Fine, just h-,” wait not that word, “just get me back to the instructor please.”

  Honestly, she was lucky that she caught it. Asking Statia for ‘help’ was still grounds for expulsion in most circumstances. Though Ranthia was seized by a particularly nasty coughing fit after she forced herself to speak.

  “Ask me for help.” Statia demanded.

  “What?” Ranthia gasped out between coughs.

  “Hurry, do it! Ask me to help you heal your lungs!” Statia insisted, her tone urgent.

  “…Fine, help me,” more coughs, “breathe?” Ranthia relented after several long moments.

  The coughs were getting worse.

  Warmth filled Ranthia. Statia was a healer? How in Xaoc’s name did that work?! She was a level 116 [Artisan – Water] and a level 73 [Mage – Light]. She was by far the lowest level person that was still left among the trainees, but she certainly wasn’t [Healer] tagged!

  Spores that had gotten into Ranthia despite her best efforts were washed away. Air, at last, entered her lungs more easily. Bruises that would have formed from her final tumble faded before they got a chance.

  “Are you okay now?” Statia asked after a bit.

  “Yeah… Thank you.” Ranthia answered sincerely before she—carefully—returned her knives to their sheaths through the glory of muscle memory. The other woman helped her up and they moved together toward the others.

  Soon Ranthia’s skin felt the temperature difference that suggested they were inside again.

  “Trainee Ranthia, blindfold off!” The instructor called.

  She was only too happy to comply. The instructor then offered her the sandals that she had abandoned. She took them but it wasn’t like she could put them back on. The straps were sliced clean through.

  The other trainees crowded around talking excitedly. Somehow what little she managed to do had really impressed them, or at least they were polite enough to make it seem that way. Ranthia, for her part, just listened quietly for a bit.

  There.

  Without warning, she delivered a savage kick. Her full stats were behind the blow, and it went directly between the ex-guard’s legs. He collapsed with a pathetic noise while the other men winced in sympathy.

  “I’m not fucking any Sentinels, and I never will.” Ranthia spat at him.

  Oddly, somehow, Statia and the instructor had suddenly (and quite hurriedly) left the room and would unfortunately be unable to attest to exactly what happened.

  It turned out that Bitey had lost a leg to the abelisaurus with the inane—albeit fitting—name. The beast healers that the colosseum kept on staff fixed him up good as new, but his partner was quiet and subdued.

  Instructor Artillery Mage C bought them lunch from a stall shortly after they emerged from the damned bloodsport arena. Generous servings of spicy, well-seasoned meat tossed with vegetables were set in front of each of them. Statia opted to only get a single mango instead.

  Ranthia quirked an eyebrow at the woman.

  “I don’t eat meat.” Statia whispered, with an expression that made it clear she expected judgment.

  “That’s fine, seen it before. I was just wondering why you were eating so little, at least get some vegetables to go with it.”

  The woman laughed in obvious relief. The instructor seemed to overhear and agree because a short time later he set down a bowl of roasted veggies in front of Statia.

  While they ate, Ranthia checked her skill gains.

  [*ding!* [Critical Strike] has reached level 120!]

  [*ding!* [Steps into the Void] has leveled from 122 to 124!]

  [*ding!* [Ranthia’s Covenant with Xaoc] has leveled from 63 to 65!]

  Not much in the way of gains from the fight with the dinosaur. She had hoped to get a class level in [Blade Dancer] out of it, since she had relied so heavily on the class to even survive Hunting’s stupid fucking test. As for the levels in her [Covenant], she could only assume they were related to her meeting with the difficultly named [Priest] and she had missed them in her rush to meet with Hexara.

  Godsdamnit she could feel her blush returning!

  The ships docked back at the island and the trainees and instructors milled out. As soon as they were on land the trainee and his saber-tooth tiger walked straight to the silver gong and struck it together. He noticed Ranthia’s look and shook his head.

  “Sorry, but I can’t risk Bitey like this. Ranger life isn’t for us.”

  Ranthia returned to her room and sat down on her bed. She felt restless and vaguely frustrated, a sentiment that had been worsened by her fellow trainee’s departure. She felt guilty; had she fought without the stupid blindfold his stupid pet wouldn’t have gotten hurt (yes, it was a hell of an assumption, she hadn’t even learned what level the stupid dinosaur was). Then he’d still be there. He had real potential as a Ranger, even she had been impressed with how he took control before the others broke down in terror.

  Grumpily, she grabbed her supplies to maintain her knives and unsheathed them.

  Loud, loud cursing followed.

  “Wow, yeah, your [Void Edge] tore these apart. Ouch. Bet the colosseum’s beast healers are having a bitch of a time with that runty dino of theirs!” Hunting laughed and passed her knives back to her.

  “I’ve had these since I was eight.” Ranthia complained.

  The knives had been devastated by her element. [Strengthen Blade] was plainly and completely outmatched. The knives had become blunt instruments, and the metal was pockmarked and just outright missing in places. She strongly suspected the blades would shatter if she tried to sharpen them.

  Hunting set a hand on her shoulder and squeezed sympathetically.

  “Weapons come and go, in our line of work it’s best to never get attached to ‘em. They served you well. You will wield others. …Quite a lot of others, it seems.” He offered, gently.

  “I know, sorry. I’m being ridiculous.” Ranthia grumbled irritably.

  “Enough about that. The blindfold. You kept it on?” Hunting smoothly pivoted the conversation in a way that promised to piss her off even further.

  She couldn’t even cut him anymore!

  “Yeah… But if I had taken it off, I would have been able to protect the others. One of the other trainees dropped out because I couldn’t contribute at full strength. His bonded companion got hurt and he decided they couldn’t risk becoming Rangers.” Ranthia admitted bitterly.

  “Then why didn’t you?” Hunting prompted in a difficult-to-read tone.

  “…I wouldn’t have been able to learn anything? I don’t know! I… I thought everyone else could handle themselves. He had brought the others back into line, directed them. So yeah, I assumed it would be safe!” Gods and goddesses why did it sound like she was making excuses?

  “Right, you’re part of a team. You’re not quite all Rangers, not yet, but you’re close. Some of you more than others. There’s nothing wrong with assuming your team is competent and capable. Rangers are supposed to be. Sentinels have to be. You did the right thing.” He reassured her.

  “I… Right. I’ll keep it in mind.” Ranthia replied tactfully.

  “Good. Now tell me, what was it like wearing the blindfold?” Hunting was fucking grinning!

  “It was shit and whomever decided to inflict that on me deserves to suffer.” Ranthia snarked.

  “Kid, you have a long way to go before you can threaten me. Now come on, seriously, I want to hear about how the entire thing felt and how you adapted.” He insisted, slightly more seriously.

  “Well…”

  Hunting listened through her perception of the ordeal in silence. His face was unreadable. She did her best to be thorough and clearly mentioned the brief moment where she felt more connected to the dance of the battle. No matter how indescribable it felt and how hard it was to explain.

  “Right. You’ll keep wearing the blindfold when you appear in the colosseum. Might have your instructors sometimes stick it on you during some other outings too. We’ll see what comes of it.” Hunting mused while he stroked his signature beard.

  Ranthia glared at him, but he pretended not to notice.

  “I didn’t even get any real levels out of it.” Ranthia pointed out to try to convince him to change his mind.

  “Of course you didn’t. It was your first time, and you screwed up big time by ignoring things you knew you shouldn’t have. You only succeeded in pissing off the beast and odds are your team did most of the damage. Plus, it was at a lower level than you are. Your first time isn’t going to reward you with major skill or level increases; the first time only taught you lessons, kid. Internalize ‘em and improve, and the levels will follow as you start to actually do something more than sulk and play at being the worst combat support on the team.” Hunting replied with open amusement.

  “Just so you know, I’ll never forgive you if you get me killed.” Ranthia grumbled.

  “Kid, you’ve been my excuse for a break. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think you could handle it and improve from it. You have a nasty habit of overfocusing from your years in a small team or as an individual. This will break that habit and help you with your overreliance on your eyes. I’ve been blinded in battle before—more than once—and I only survived because I had capabilities that I’m trying to instill in you. Stick with it. Once you get used to this, you’ll be amazed at how much more of our world you actually notice.” Hunting explained. The words were a powerful lecture, but he was grinning like he was setting up for some great joke.

  Ranthia really had no idea what to think or how to respond, so she stayed silent.

  “Anyway, I won’t be seeing you for a while. Got a… hell of a mission lined up, so I’m heading back to the front tomorrow. I’m going to arrange for some other training for you in my slot while I’m gone, so just do what you like during the slot until they start showing up. Might even be able to get you a special trainer that can help you more than I can right now.” He continued.

  Ranthia felt crestfallen, and it clearly showed on her face.

  “Hey, don’t fret kid. I’ll be fine! Might not see you for a while, but I promise that even if I’m not done before then, I will make it to the Ranger Convocation and see you graduate and become a true Ranger. No matter what.”

  They stood and clasped arms, like friends that were parting for a time. Ranthia was unable to remember what she said. But she remembered that he laughed.

  And then he was off.

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  Nozomi Matsuoka.

  Sarah "Neila" Elkins.