The trainees assembled the same as always in the courtyard, as if they were preparing for morning exercise. Except it was no ordinary day. Suits of armor awaited each of them, each personally identified for their rightful recipient. There was suspiciously little chatter as the trainees got geared up, their personal belongings already stuffed into the bags that awaited them outside their rooms.

  No chatter, no chaos, just grim nerves.

  Ranthia’s new armor fit her well, but there was no room for her arcanite vest beneath it. She swallowed her momentary frustration; it could get adjusted later.

  Some of their number remained silent out of nerves, some out of reverence for what the Summer Solstice meant to Rangers, and others because it just felt like there was nothing left to say. Ranthia had no idea which group she fit in; she was focused on what was to come.

  Soon, most of them would become true Rangers. But not all of them.

  Sentinel Ocean waited for them at the island’s docks, aboard a ship unlike any Ranthia had ever seen. The ship was covered in metal plates and positively packed with siege weaponry. It was a vessel that could transport an entire legion—probably. Though something about Ocean’s mannerisms and behavior suggested to Ranthia that he wasn’t a fan of the ship.

  The trainees boarded and, ultimately, clustered into the middle of the main deck just to keep from bouncing around aimlessly. There were other decks, but their scant numbers provided a sense of comfort and familiarity. Two years spent in close quarters was coming to an end… at least for most of them.

  If she didn’t make the cut, would she re-enroll in the Academy? Ranthia was pretty certain the answer was a resounding no. Hexara would be disappointed in her, as would the city Guildmaster… but she had done her best. Sure, there were countless little things she could have done differently—done better—if she had the opportunity to do it all over again. But at the same time, she also felt like she’d absorbed the bulk of what the Academy could teach her. She was disinclined to devote more of her life to grueling conditions and mind-numbing lectures for significantly decreased benefit.

  Ranger Headquarters hadn’t changed much in the past two years. It was still a government building first, and a military building second. Ranthia once again failed utterly at marching—enough so that Sentinel Ocean yanked her out of the formation and had her walk with him instead (that… had to be a mark against her). His mood was still strangely tense and… almost dark, not that he said a single word to give credence to her assessment. They were once again led into the strange nameless massive room, and it still felt so out of place in the building. There were benches set up for each of the Ranger teams, for the trainees, and for guests.

  Ranthia didn’t miss the spaces left unfilled. Some of the team benches had obvious gaps in them for someone that was lost. Sometimes quite a few gaps. In a couple of cases, only a few men sat where eight should.

  One team’s area was wholly empty.

  There were also add-ons for some teams. The [Healer] that was attached to each team was expected, though only some of the men seemed to have survived. But some of the teams had families attached—spouses and small children—which felt absurdly reckless and foolish. Hexara had once joked about becoming someone like that, but Ranthia had more than just mixed feelings about it. She loved her girlfriend, but she knew that Hexara severely underestimated how dangerous being a Ranger was.

  No amount of comfort was worth endangering Hexara’s life. She just wasn’t built for life outside the walls. She had survived her journey to the capital—thank Xaoc—but Ranthia had no intention of taking her anywhere else. She’d never be able to forgive herself if she got the woman she loved killed out of her own selfishness.

  The Rangers were the elites of Remus—ignoring the Sentinels—and they were leagues beyond mere legion soldiers. And roughly a hundred of them died every two-year rotation. Their death rates were worse than veteran Adventurers, simply because Rangers were seldom in a position where they could say no to dangers that they were ill-suited to meet. Rangers weren’t alone though, and Ranthia had come to the realization that she would have probably remained a solo adventurer until she retired—or perished—had she not changed career paths.

  Also, there was something to be said for guaranteed pay. Dry spells with few job opportunities of merit were all too common a blight for Adventurers.

  Ranthia remained caught up in her own thoughts and distractions—she hadn’t even noticed her thoughts had drifted off-topic—until she was abruptly shaken from them.

  By drums.

  The eight men of Ranger Command entered and took their seats. Four assigned by the Rangers, four assigned by the Senate. And it was almost hilariously easy to point out which was which. Politicians, even those who served soft time in the military leading troops from behind, looked nothing like veteran Rangers or Adventurers.

  Sentinels began to enter as well, even as Ocean crossed the room towards his seat. Ranthia nearly lost her decorum and got out of her seat when Hunting entered. It was a massive relief to see the man. She thought he sent her a quick smile when he reached his position, but it was hard to be certain with the distance and the man’s ridiculous level. …Which had increased by 12 between his two combat classes.

  Only a few Sentinels were in attendance though: Ocean, Hunting, and one man she didn’t know.

  One of the Commanders approached the podium and began to give a meandering, pointless speech. The man was one of the Senate members, if Ranthia’s eye was any judge. He spouted puffery about how the Rangers kept Remus safe. Slathered with deep flattery toward the emperor, as if the man somehow had any real involvement in Ranger business. There was a token of gratitude to the Sentinels for their bolstering the legions. Which pivoted immediately into a diatribe of propaganda about the war. It was all hard to listen to and impossible to care about, yet the man seemed to be unable to even notice that he’d lost almost the entire audience eighty or so word salads ago.

  And then it was time to carve the names into the Indomitable Wall. Ranthia finally had her answer as to what the strange thing was. A morbid monument to the fallen Rangers, stretching back throughout Remus’ history. It was, in theory, something super important that every Ranger was meant to value above and beyond their own life. Ranthia was less impressed—she doubted anyone alive knew more than an arm’s length of those names. The names were hollow memorials, meant to assuage those trapped by grief, only to lose meaning over time as those men and women passed on as well. Her more jaded outlook made her suspect that its only true purpose was to allow wealthy citizens to point at the names of their forebearers that had perished long before their time, so that they could act like that meant anything about the character of the soft, spoiled piece of shit that stood there pointing.

  A positively ancient man entered as the room turned eerily silent (aside from a couple of small children that absolutely shouldn’t have been present). The man looked as if he might just have been even older and more withered than her ex’s grandfather; accompanied by a younger man. Both were [Artisan – Earth] tagged for their primary classes. The ancient man moved with purpose, but he moved oh so slowly. His eyes were clouded yet he marched as if he had done it a hundred times before.

  Once he reached the wall with his apprentice (or at least that seemed the obvious explanation for the duo), the drums began to play a solemn rhythm. The Ranger Commander at the podium—now a proper veteran Ranger, thankfully not the speech-giver—called the teams one by one. Each team leader—or acting leader—unrolled a scroll and called the names of each of their fallen brethren and that was it. There were no words about how they fell, no final deeds announced. Just a name. With each, the ancient man’s hand was guided to the next available space on the wall by the younger. Then with a tap of a withered finger the name appeared there, perfectly engraved for as long as the stone remained.

  For Ranger Team 13, the Commander read the names of the members from a list.

  Silence reigned in the hall aside from the names being called, then the Commander stepped back silently. Even as Sentinel Ocean stood and approached the podium. He balled his fists for the barest moment—only partially obscured by the podium—before he spoke.

  “Sentinel Destruction.” Two words filled with restrained pain and cold fury.

  No one seemed to know what to say, so the Commander behind him called out.

  “Brave Sentinel. Your time to rest has come. May White Dove take you to a better place. Your deeds will not be forgotten. We will remember you.”

  The crowd followed a heartbeat behind, the familiar mantra used for “Brave Rangers” changed oh-so-slightly.

  “Sentinel Nature.” Sentinel Ocean wasn’t done.

  While Ranthia echoed the mantra, she boggled.

  Two Sentinels had been killed? What on Pallos had happened? The levels the Sentinels had was… nonsensical. Was there some grand monster she never heard a single rumor about? Or did it have something to do with the war against the shimagu?

  She set aside her curiosity, whatever the reason… It was time for the crowd to silently remember and acknowledge the fallen for a final protracted silence. One that had enough weight that even the children had the sense to go quiet.

  The Commanders at the podium switched yet again.

  “And now I, on behalf of the Empire, congratulate and introduce our Ranger Academy graduates. As you hear your name, approach the stage.” He called out.

  “Trainee Aalleus.”

  One of the trainees that Ranthia barely knew—the one from her table that had said the whole table would become Rangers, just recently—stood and approached the stage. A Ranger badge of the eagle and the laurel was pinned to his armor. A hand was shaken.

  “I introduce our newest Ranger!” The Commander called out, to general cheers and applause.

  He continued down the list. Names got skipped over. Every Adventurer had made the cut so far. Kaesios was still grinning like an idiot.

  “Trainee Ranthia.”

  She stood and stiffly walked up to the stage. She had been called. The badge was pinned to her armor. She shook the man’s hand. She was introduced. She was a Ranger now.

  Her reverie was shattered by commiseration. There had been 3 people seated between her and the next name.

  In the end, eleven trainees were left uncalled. The (former, she supposed) Adventurers had all been called. Every trainee that Ranthia held a positive opinion of had been called.

  11 out of 106 trainees that completed the Ranger Academy. That meant 95 Rangers had perished, requested transfer to Team 0, or were retiring entirely.

  “And now I will announce the new Ranger Teams for the coming round.”

  “Team 1. …”

  There was a susurration immediately over the first pair of names called, but Ranthia tuned it out. She had no idea who most of these people were. She kept her ears focused for the few names she did know.

  Statia was on Team 2, the first of the trainees to be called.

  Kaesios ended up on Team 4, along with another trainee.

  Other former Adventurers were called. Some of those called were trainees that she recognized by face, but had never learned the name of. The speedster she used for her messages during their failed defense of the base was on Team 12, along with one of the B-Ranked Adventurers. Hopefully they could look out for one another.

  “Team 13. Velius Leoios Enduris, Sulbius Republius Maxius,” three other names that she missed despite her best efforts, “Ranthia,”—and after her name was called, she utterly missed the rest of what the man said for quite some time. She even missed that the murmurs had kicked up again hard when the first two names were called.

  She was officially a Ranger! …On the team that never, ever survived.

  Suddenly the superstition seemed so much harder to dismiss.

  Ranthia barely even paid attention to the rest of the ceremony. At least she ignored it until two Rangers were called to the front by yet another Commander and the Sentinels stood. The change in the atmosphere drew her focus back to the present.

  “A Ranger. At least one round. The undisputed best in his field. A grand feat. An open seat. The ability to survive on your own. Powerful combat prowess. Able to move through Remus and beyond, solving problems.” The Commander announced.

  His name was repeated once again, Ranthia only absorbed the “Ranger” title from it.

  “He has served four rotations with distinction. His combat style has proven uniquely suited to countering large groups of threats. He has fought beasts and men alongside his fellow Rangers. He has successfully led a team through this rotation without a single casualty.” The Commander worked the crowd.

  “We hereby name you, The Torrential Sentinel!” The Commander called out as he pinned an eagle over a starburst on the man’s chest.

  The man stepped back and was subtly redirected to stand with his fellow Sentinels. He looked incredibly out of place, even as the name of the next man was called.

  “He has served two rotations and excelled. His teamwork has been lauded by the team leaders that commanded him. His power has brought potent beasts and entire bandit camps to their knees. He is responsible for breaking a stampede of eighty powerful dinosaurs that would have flattened one of our cities.” More propaganda.

  Ranthia wondered how much was true.

  “We hereby name you, The Quake Sentinel!” The Commander concluded while he pinned the same starburst eagle on the man’s chest.

  And with that, the room dissolved into echoing cheers that threatened to deafen the lower leveled civilians that were present.

  The ceremony came to an end once the fanfare died down and soon after the mingling began. Many of the other trainees offered Ranthia a consolatory pat on the arm or grimace before they rushed off to find their new teams. Well, the exception was primarily those left adrift; they were even more shellshocked than Ranthia was, it seemed.

  “So just turn that run of luck around, I believe you’re one of the best Rangers here. See you in two years.” Kaesios whispered in her ear, concluded by a forceful pat on her shoulder that nearly staggered her. Then he left her side and hurried to meet his new team too.

  She supposed that she needed to do the same.

  Ranthia finally found her way to Laminar—or whatever his name was—the man that was Ranger Team 13’s Leader—her leader. He shook her hand when she approached, then had her wait a moment while the last two members were located. Once the team had gathered, he flashed a few Ranger hand signs to signal the group to follow him and started walking. The eight of them slipped out of what was rapidly evolving into a party, which would have been a shame had Ranthia felt a bit less numb at the moment. They moved through Ranger Headquarters without a single word stated, to a small meeting room that had six chairs assembled in a half circle.

  At his silent order, the Rangers under his command sat down, looking uncertain. Another man, the one that was the second in command, stood at his side.

  “Right, let me clear things up first. For those of you that do not recognize myself or my second, I am Ranger Leoios of the Velius. I was previously the man in charge of Ranger Team 1, where I served for years. Republius has been my second ever since I first began to lead Ranger teams. Command approached me as rumors about Ranger Team 13 had become excessive. I accepted. I was given free rein to make a list of veteran Rangers that I wanted for five of my slots. I was promised one of the more experienced graduates from the Academy for the last slot. The rest of you are the survivors who filled out my requests.

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  “We will turn Ranger Team 13’s poor reputation around. In two years’ time it will be a team that Rangers aspire to and believe leads on a path to greatness!”

  The gathered Rangers nodded. One looked like he wanted to become ill. Ranthia still just felt numb.

  “Chain of command will be in the order your names were called.” He added.

  “What!? I’ve completed a round and you have a fucking fresh-faced girl above me?” The sick-looking Ranger screeched in protest.

  Their leader fixed the man with a flat look for a time.

  “Ranger Ranthia, please introduce yourself and make it clear why you outrank two technically senior Rangers.” He ordered once the man seemed sufficiently withered.

  Ranthia blinked twice in surprise and rushed to comply, cursing inwardly the entire time.

  “Sir! I am Ran—Er, Ranger Ranthia. I entered Ranger Academy on the recommendation of the Adventurer’s Guild, where I previously served as an A-Ranked Adventurer. I’m assuming you’re wanting me to mention that I was trained in field leadership at the Ranger Academy.” She felt flustered by the time she finished; that hadn’t been very smooth.

  Their leader nodded and faced the man that had protested.

  “Ranger Pibius, let me make this clear: Ranger Ranthia has more combat experience than half of this team. I would wager that she has more combat experience than you and Ranger Secundia combined. Furthermore, if we encounter a monster whose species I do not recognize? I will be deferring to her expertise to get us out of the situation. Do you have a problem with that, Ranger?”

  “No sir.” The man responded, though his tone had a clear hint of petulance.

  The leader nodded with a calculating look in his eye.

  “I am Ranger Leoios of the Velius. I am a level 412 Brilliance-aspected [Ranger], focused on archery. My second class is a level 327 Radiance-aspected [Warrior], which allows me to make snap movements in any direction at speeds similar to a dedicated speedster.” The leader introduced himself.

  “I am Ranger Republius. I am a level 380 Dark-aspected [Warrior] and can all but disappear in shadowy areas. My second class is a level 313 Verdant-aspected [Ranger], which allows me to fire arrows that bind and restrict monsters.” The second-in-command smoothly picked up on the intent and nodded to the next man.

  “Ranger Hallus, my old squad called me Hail. Level 289 Ice-aspected [Mage] focused on big artillery-style strikes with my ice. Second class doubles up, level 269 Ice-aspected [Mage], this time devoted to making things slippery and cold. …Might need to coordinate with Ranger Republius so I don’t choke out his plants.” The next man added.

  Ranthia was immediately jealous of his ability to remember names so quickly.

  “Ranger Penticus. Level 277 Earth-aspected [Warrior]. As long as my feet are on the natural ground, I get a massive boost to my resilience and strength, and I’ve got a restriction skill that strengthens it too. The only relevant part of that for you all is that I can’t spend more than a quarter of a day without getting my feet on the ground. Level 199 Fire-aspected [Warrior] for my second. Lets me strike hard, but it makes me prone to overheating if I go too long. I have a bonded animal companion too, but he’s currently with my daughter. I’ll introduce him to you soon.” The fourth man bragged.

  “Ranger Mettlea. Level 257 Acid-aspected [Warrior], I can make my skin acidic for self-protection and the class also helps me punch things without ruining myself in the process. Other class is still level 114, Poison-aspected [Mage] that can release clouds of toxins, but I haven’t been thrilled with its performance so far. Second class is pretty shit for teamwork.” The fifth man admitted.

  Ranthia was distracted though, because midway through Ranger Acid’s introduction a scroll suddenly appeared in her hand and she had no idea how the fuck it got there. She still unrolled it and hurriedly read it, biting her tongue to keep from screaming obscenities.

  …She looked up and realized everyone was looking at her, so she hurriedly rerolled the scroll and stuffed it into one of her belt pouches.

  She could murder Hunting later.

  “Apologies. Ranger Ranthia. Level 230 Mirror-aspected [Mage]. …I apparently can create duplicates that act like weak barriers and can manipulate them to a limited extent. Working on getting my second class leveled to turn it into my primary. It’s a level 222 Void-aspected [Warrior]. I’m a speedster-adjacent build, I close in on the battlefield and use Void-infused knives to deal major damage. The biggest flaw is I only get one to three blows out of a knife before the Void ruins it. Also, the skill doesn’t work with other weaponry.” She announced, still seething.

  “Ranger Secundia. Two rotations under my belt—oh wait sorry, we weren’t doing that bit. I’m a Level 252 Metal [Mage]. My other class is also level 252! …Oh, this one’s a Fire [Mage]. Looking forward to classing up soon, hope to get a good advanced element. Got a skill that gives me a second mind so I can use both classes more-or-less simultaneously, at least usually. Still only got two eyes though, haven’t gotten offered a skill for a third eye… yet!” The other woman called out.

  To Ranthia’s eye, the leader was looking mildly annoyed between her and—uh, other lady.

  “Ranger Pibius. You want things to be destroyed, I’m your guy. Level 200 Steam-aspected [Mage] and my second class is already level 168, it’s an Earth-aspected [Mage] class. I make a good stone container, fill it with steam until boom!” The last man added.

  Their leader—L-something, Ranthia was fairly certain—nodded and fell silent for a few moments until he began to speak.

  “Very well, we shall meet for breakfast each morning until we depart. We can go over anything we need to then. For now, enjoy the party in that room if you are inclined. I look forward to working with you all to reforge the reputation of Ranger Team 13. Dismissed!”

  Everyone filed out, except for their leader and second in command. The two immediately started a whispered conversation at tones low enough Ranthia couldn’t pick anything up.

  That could have gone better. The others were in a rush to get back to the party, but Ranthia was dragging her feet a bit. She was in a team that most considered to be doomed and she was lying to them because of that absolute bastard—

  As if he knew, Hunting’s arms suddenly emerged from the solid wall and grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her—face-first—into the wall.

  When Ranthia didn’t find herself brained senseless and instead was inside a cozy little sitting room with three chairs and a cask of wine… well, she was more than a little confused.

  “You’re in our HQ, there’s secrets hidden pretty much everywhere.” Hunting explained with a grin.

  “I’m torn between being glad to see you and a deep-seated need to punch you in your smug face.” Ranthia grumbled as her mouth escaped the confines of her better judgment.

  “Feel free to try, but don’t blame me if you lose your arm in the attempt, kid.” Hunting retorted with a certain amount of glee that grated on her.

  She offered her arm for a handshake instead. Naturally, he nearly dislocated her wrist in a subtle display of just how utterly outclassed she was.

  “That shit vinegary excuse for wine you like is in the cask, help yourself if you haven’t found a sense of taste in the past year. Rigira had nothing but complaints about you, which I’m fairly certain means she liked you. As for your dance… eh, heard the performance was fine and the rest wasn’t your fault, at least.” Hunting announced while he produced his own wineskin.

  Ranthia had no idea what that meant, but she had more important issues.

  “I’m not lying to my team about what I can do. No way. Not even for you. I’ve been an Adventurer long enough to know that holding back can get people killed. A lack of information has been behind almost every brush with death I’ve had.” Ranthia announced in an icy tone.

  “Wasn’t expecting you to, I was going to catch up a bit and then fetch your team leader, but if you want to do things out of order… Be right back.” Hunting shrugged, stowed his wineskin, and was out the—erm, wall?—faster than Ranthia could react.

  Ranthia shrugged and snatched up one of the cups and served herself some delightfully sour wine while she waited.

  Hunting and her team’s leader walked through the blank wall—being in a room with no visible exit was not fun, as it turned out—and caught Ranthia mid-swig. She nearly started to cough as she tried to discreetly hide the cup—that both men plainly saw—and salute at the same time.

  She gave Hunting a look. He just returned it. They cycled a few times, but it was obvious that he was going to make her handle the situation herself. At length, Ranthia allowed herself a tiny groan before she began to speak.

  “Sir, under orders from Sentinel Hunting, I misstated the abilities of my first class. However, I told him that I refuse to leave my team leader ignorant. My orders are to keep my first class restricted until my second class has a solid level lead over it, but in an emergency, I will use my full capabilities! My mirror images are not just decoys, nor can I only control them a little. I can manipulate the mirror images rather well—though I might be getting a bit rusty.” Ranthia callously threw her mentor under the proverbial wagon.

  “Eh, passably at best. Good enough for beasts and civilians.” Hunting quietly added, knowing full well both of them could hear him.

  Ranthia rolled her eyes and whispered a quick prayer to Xaoc before she continued.

  “I’m not certain anyone except Hunting and a couple of my former Adventurer colleagues know this, but I can also abandon my real body and temporarily take control over one of my mirror images and use it as if it were my own body.” Ranthia admitted.

  Her team leader had simply—barely—arched an eyebrow at the whole thing.

  “Very well, is there anything else I should know?” The man asked.

  In surprisingly short order, Ranthia found herself outside the hidden room while the men talked. That… could not be good for her.

  Ranthia felt absolutely exhausted by the time everything was done. She had initially considered trying to surprise Hexara at her home or seeing if Sunshine was available for the night, back when she first found out that they weren’t leaving immediately to start Rangering. But by the time she finally got to leave she just wanted sleep.

  Hunting had never showed up again. There was a lot she wanted to ask the man and she’d really looked forward to catching up with her mentor, but he seemed to have vanished after his discussion with her new team leader. Not that Lyric (no, she was pretty sure that wasn’t right) had known where Hunting went either.

  None of the Sentinels attended the party.

  So Ranthia wasn’t just exhausted, she was moody too. Which meant that naturally, every accursed tavern and inn that she tried was at full occupancy! The Ranger Convocation seemed to draw in more of a crowd than she had imagined, not that she had bothered with the party itself beyond a quick investigative pass. Instead of playing stupid games trying more places as she slowly expanded her search area, she just decided to make the long walk across the city. There was one tavern that she was almost certain had rooms available.

  …Assuming Remus hadn’t come to its senses and condemned the building. The tavern she had stayed in when she had first come to Ariminum—what felt like a lifetime ago—was terrible, but it was cheap. And, even better: it had rooms available.

  Ranthia barely made it to breakfast with her new team, since she’d managed to forget the name of the café. But she made it and was promptly informed that the current estimation was they would leave within three days, unless some issue arose that delayed them. Overall, the cheery café that her team leader favored was surprisingly nice; the layout was airy, and it had a touch of whimsy with handcrafted stuffed animals of all sorts scattered throughout. And the eggs and sausage she got were sumptuous! Her opinion of her new leader rose a few more notches, which was a ridiculous criterion by most standards but hey—if she didn’t approve of the leader as a man, it was hard to approve of him as a leader.

  Whatever his name was.

  Even better, he had already put in a request for “quite a few” additional knives from the quartermaster for her already, and he indicated that his second in command would be able to resize her armor to accommodate her arcanite vest once they were underway. It nicely tied up all the business she could think of for the team, which freed her up to enjoy her food while the others talked.

  The Earth [Warrior] on the team—she really needed to work on learning everyone’s names—had brought his companion bond as promised. It turned out to be a sparrow. A perfectly ordinary sparrow, if you overlooked the fact that it was level 254. There was no indication that it had any caster ability to use its Wind element either.

  She had no idea what a mundane level 254 small bird could do, but she somehow doubted it would count as much of an asset.

  It was still slightly too early to try to surprise Hexara at work, so Ranthia made her way back across town, again, and strolled into the Adventurer’s Guild. She was bemused that the clerk somehow didn’t recognize her already after only two years—she remembered him! …Er, his face, at least—but soon enough she found herself in the Guildmaster’s office.

  “Ah, excellent. Ranthia, come in. I had hoped to see everyone before they left, but you’re the first to stop by. I was unable to attend the Convocation, but I was informed that all twenty-three of you succeeded in the Academy and have become full-fledged Rangers. Most excellent.” The Guildmaster greeted her with a warm smile.

  And yes, twenty-three; they had someone drop out near the end for personal reasons.

  Ranthia was alarmed to learn that the Guildmaster had come up with yet another plan. With no small amount of worry, she listened to him explain how he planned to use the insiders he had “planted among the Rangers” (stop making it worse!) to try to pull Rangers and Adventurers into a closer relationship.

  Thank Xaoc, the actual plan was far less terrifying than the lead-in sounded. In short, Ranthia—and the other Adventurers-turned-Rangers—would each create a unique mark they could draw. If they used that mark when they issued a quest with a local Adventurer’s Guild chapter, the main Guild branch would provide a second payment equal to whatever reward that the Rangers offered. In essence, it was a way to get Adventurers paid twice, or—more likely—to allow the Rangers to hire Adventurers for less expense so they might be willing to do so. It was a plan designed to ingrain habits among the Rangers to seek the assistance of Adventurers when they needed backup.

  She would have to pass that on to her leader tomorrow. She had serious doubts about whether the plan would succeed… but then again, had she been told three years ago that she’d become a Ranger through the Adventurer’s Guild’s efforts she would have had serious doubts about that working out.

  Life could be strange.

  “Ranger, what can our humble salon do for you?” The woman at the counter asked.

  Why did no one recognize her anymore?! They’d met! Multiple times! She was almost ready to believe that the stupid armor and badge were somehow cursed to make people fail to notice who was wearing them.

  “Is Hexara in?” Ranthia asked, after she successfully resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  “Um, yes. Is… is she in trouble?” The young woman asked nervously.

  “Of course not! I’m just hoping for an appointment with her.” Ranthia answered after actually rolling her eyes.

  “Oh, of course Madam Ranger! Um, please, just wait just a moment?” The young woman practically bolted down the hall.

  Ranthia just buried her face in her hands and indulged in a groan.

  “I never thought of it before, but mmm, I think I do love a woman in uniform.” Hexara teased.

  Her hands and instruments of beauty were hard at work on Ranthia’s hair already, which had degraded in quality in terrible ways despite the work the [Stylist] had done half a year ago. Ranthia cutting it with a cheap knife once his ridiculous Skill wore off had not helped.

  She was busy blushing a bit at the slight reminder of the L-word though. They still hadn’t actually discussed that.

  “Um, that reminds me, would it be okay if I stay at your place until we leave?” Ranthia asked.

  “Oh, definitely! I would love to have you. Maybe tonight you can wear that armor and…” Hexara whispered the rest in Ranthia’s ear.

  “Oh! …Well, you know, I doubt anyone would complain much if your appointment with an important Ranger took a little longer than usual…” Ranthia eagerly replied.

  They kissed.

  Gods and goddesses, she had missed Hexara so much.

  The next morning Ranthia dutifully reported the incentive to use the Adventurer’s Guild to her team leader. He nodded and said that he would bear that in mind for any time where it would be beneficial to consider. And that was that.

  The spiced bread and soup of the day—cheesy potato—from the café held most of her attention. If the café had actually offered rabbit stew she would have probably been impossible to dislodge from the premises.

  [Sexy] was roused from its long neglect by her stay with Hexara, but that was far from the best part about having privacy with her girlfriend again.

  Ranthia and Hexara cuddled in the afterglow that night. They kissed again, neither quite ready for sleep.

  “I really do love you.” Ranthia whispered, steeped in bliss. She was in a happy enough place that she didn’t even freak out over saying it again. She was ready, and she meant it.

  “I know…” Hexara replied. …Yet there was something in her voice.

  So much for Ranthia’s happy place. She squeezed her girlfriend gently.

  “Hey, is something wrong?” Ranthia asked, trying to keep the fear and worry out of her voice and off her face.

  “It’s just… you’re leaving. I think I’ve… had feelings for you for a long time. Goddess, I owe my life to you! If not for you I would have almost certainly died in that stupid jungle.” Came the response after a terrifyingly long silence.

  Worse, Ranthia didn’t miss that Hexara was starting to cry. While she was trying to figure out how to respond to her girlfriend, Hexara barreled forward with her thoughts.

  “But you’re leaving. I know you’ll be safe; the Rangers are the toughest people in Remus…” Hexara trailed off while Ranthia silently comforted her.

  It was good to know the government’s propaganda worked wonders, Ranthia bitterly supposed.

  “But it’s still going to be two years. I can’t say the words I want to. Not right now. I can’t ask you to drop everything and spend your life here with me…” Hexara probably thought she had whispered that last part too quietly for Ranthia to hear.

  She severely underestimated Ranthia’s vitality, of course. Non-classers tended to have a poor grasp of just how different a combat class at a high—well, what Ranthia used to assume was high—level could be.

  Ranthia gently stroked Hexara’s hair and let her cry while she considered the words she was never meant to hear. Could she see herself marrying Hexara? That was an easy question, definitely without a doubt. She would love to, even! Could she see herself leaving the Rangers? Probably, it wasn’t like she had much of a connection to the organization and she felt very little patriotic duty to the Empire. But could she—would she—be willing to, out of nowhere, throw away both her careers as a Ranger and as an Adventurer? Well, she was pretty sure she could get a solid job as a bodyguard or doing security or something. And she did have a good number of rods stored away… Gods, if they were careful with money she could probably just take eight years off entirely to spend with Hexara.

  But it would cost her the ability to keep marching forward. To continue to grow stronger.

  On a certain level, Ranthia was fine with that. But who would she be if she wasn’t striving towards her safety and security?

  Could she even look herself in the eye and be confident that she could protect Hexara if anything happened? Would Hexara want to buy kids if they married (gods and goddesses, what cursed sentences slavery enabled)? Ranthia was pretty sure that she didn’t want any children or pets; she wasn’t even remotely comfortable with the idea of being wholly responsible for another being’s growth and survival.

  Ranthia kissed her girlfriend’s shoulders affectionately, careful to avoid the neck—she wasn’t trying to seduce the woman.

  “I know I love you. Let me finish this one rotation; it’ll only be two years. We survived that long apart once already. I… We can talk then. I love you, and I want us to share our lives together.”

  Ranthia loosened her arms so Hexara could turn to face her and she met the teary eyes of the woman she loved. They kissed, and something about it felt different than before.

  It was even better.

  The day had come. Their wagon was loaded. Ranthia’s chest in the wagon held her Adventurer’s armor, two dozen rods, and a simple cosmetics-stained pillow from Hexara’s bed; a token to remember her beloved with.

  “Wait for me, I’ll be back before you know it. I’ll send letters too.” Ranthia promised.

  Hexara had come to see her off. She wasn’t the only one. The second in command—Republius—was attended to by his wife and sister. Earth [Warrior] guy (she was working on it!) bounced his young daughter on his knee as he promised her tales of heroism. Secundia’s kid sister lectured her big sister on staying safe and the dangers of strangers—final advice before she allowed her big sister to leave.

  “I will eagerly await each one. And I look forward to seeing you in two years.” Hexara replied, with damp eyes.

  “…My love.” The woman added shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. An admission meant for Ranthia alone.

  Ranthia smiled broadly and kissed her girlfriend one last lingering time. She made it last as long as she was allowed…

  Because once she freed Hexara’s lips, it was time to depart.

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  Nozomi Matsuoka.

  Sarah "Neila" Elkins.