It’s been a year; I’ve long got over my initial fury at feeling like I’d been given something other than what I’d been promised – like I’d been offered five-star accommodation on holiday only to be told when I’d arrived that first I’d have to camp for three nights. In the end, I’ve benefited significantly from it. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t still resent Nicholas for not being upfront about it. And I was willing to let bygones be bygones, but if he’s going to lay claims to the tools I used for my survival, I’m going to hold the fact that they were necessary against him.

  No, being warned would not have made me some sort of survival expert. But I could have brought better equipment with me. I could potentially have gone down the road to the outdoor equipment shop and bought a tent or a pack of fire-lighters and candles. I could have bought books which would have taught me the basics of survival. I could have brought my first aid kit from my apartment.

  That’s not saying that what I received from Nicholas isn’t better than what I could have prepared for myself, but the point is that I was left entirely dependent on what he sent me. Without it, I might not have even been able to find water, and I would almost certainly have died in the first few days – without a knife, without Lay-on-Hands, without the healing potions.

  So, the way I see it, those stones were compensation for his obfuscation.

  Of course, it’s possible that everything I’ve said is irrelevant. I don’t know what the rule of law is like here – perhaps it’s a system where whatever the most powerful says, goes. And Nicholas has already indicated that the stones are legally his House’s property before and after being used. I don’t have any hope of winning in a court of law, even assuming they have such things here and don’t just haul law-breakers to the local lord – in this case, Nicholas himself.

  But ultimately, Nicholas needs me. He’s said it himself. It sounds like he hasn’t prepared any other options and if his House doesn’t take part in the competition, it’s likely to be toast in the next few years. Which means that, rule of law or not, more powerful than I am or not, he needs to take my thoughts and feelings into consideration.

  And I see a practical demonstration of him realising that as he sighs and relaxes back into his seat, his face smoothing out once more. It does cross my mind briefly that this might be a test – that he’s trying to see how far he can push me at the beginning of our relationship. And even if it’s not, how I negotiate now will set the tone for us going forward, regardless.

  “Very well, we can consider the use of the stones a gift for your willingness to even come here and have this audience,” he offers begrudgingly. I notice how he’s changed the narrative a little – now it’s almost like how people might have to be bribed even to hear a pitch. Much like I remember at university where all the students’ organisations offered food to lure in the first-years. “However, the stones remain proprietary property of my House even if you are being allowed to use them in perpetuity, whether or not you remain my heir. Any sharing must be done with my permission, and I will trust your honour to hold you to this if you refuse to sign a contract on your life to that effect.”

  “To clarify, you’re talking about the Tamer Class and its dedicated Skills, right? So Dominate and Tame would be counted, but Lay-on-Hands not?” I check, using those Skills so as not to reveal anything of myself inadvertently.

  Nicholas offers me a begrudging nod. “That is correct.” Perhaps he would have liked to have considered Lay-on-Hands as off-limits too – of course, he doesn't know that I don’t have it anymore.

  I nod slowly. “But from what you say, this is only an issue if I choose not to become your heir in the long-term, right? And it’s likely that even if I remain your heir only for the competition, then I’ll get access to a whole load of other Skills? Would these be under the same conditions?”

  Nicholas hesitates for a long moment, then sighs again.

  “You must guarantee on your honour that any family-specific Skills will only be shared with the lord of House Titanbend’s permission, but if you’re working to benefit my House, you should receive its full support.”

  “And if I decide here and now to not be your heir, you will not expect anything from me in recompense for the gifts you gave, only that I will not share them with others?” I ask pointedly. He eyes me for a long moment and then dips his head almost imperceptibly.

  “I will have to trust you to hold to your word,” he agrees and in his voice I sense significant threat. If I break my word and he finds out about it, I have a feeling that there will be some terrible consequences. I can respect that.

  “I can agree to notifying you if I have chosen to share the Class or Skills, but even assuming I do become your heir in the long term, I refuse to hamper myself by needing to have permission from you.”

  “How can it be hampering you-” Nicholas tries to start but I interrupt.

  “You’ve already told me that your heir needs to go off to another continent for five years. If I agree to becoming your heir, what if we’re in a situation where we desperately need another Tamer, yet I cannot share my Class with anyone because I need your permission first? How is that not hampering me.”

  Nicholas eyes me silently for a long moment.

  “You argue well,” he tells me with something that sounds like a mixture between begrudging respect and rueful satisfaction in his voice. He sighs and then dips his head briefly. “Very well. If you promise on your honour that you will not share my family’s Class or Skills without significant need, and that you will notify me as soon as possible following this sharing, indicating exactly who you’ve shared them with, I will impose no further constraints upon you.”

  “Alright, I’m willing to accept that,” I reply after a pause. I don’t particularly like those requirements, but something tells me that it’s as much as I’m going to get. And he hasn’t defined ‘significant need’ which means that I can.

  “Now,” Nicholas starts again with a much different tone to his voice. This one is almost anxious. “I am aware that it is unforgivably rude to ask you this question, but needs must. I hope you are willing to grant me some leeway given the situation at hand.”

  “Well?” I ask a moment later when he trails off into expectant silence, a little impatiently. “Go ahead and ask. I promise I won’t take offence just from the question.”

  “I thank you,” Nicholas replies quickly, before hesitating for a moment longer before continuing all in a rush. “Would you be willing to share some details of your status with me?”

  “So you can see if I’m ‘suitable’ or not?” I ask with a small amount of bite – I’ve never enjoyed being judged and I didn’t realise that I would have to pass some unknown benchmarks even after going through the whole year of ‘bootcamp’ in the other world.

  Nicholas gets a wry look on his face at that.

  “Based on the Bonded you’ve brought with you, I suspect that suitability is not truly in question,” he answers with a hint of irony. “Knowing what your strengths and weaknesses are is how I will know what to offer you if you become my heir.” And how to convince me to do so, is the underlying, unspoken thought.

  I consider it for a moment, but then decide to agree – nothing ventured, nothing gained. Telling Nicholas about what I’m capable of could put me at a disadvantage, but as a newcomer to this world that’s already the case. Telling Nicholas about some of the information on my status page isn’t going to change much, I don’t think. It might even work to my advantage – I get the sense that he wasn’t expecting me to come with so many Bound, or maybe it’s Kalanthia who’s earned that shocked look from him. If there are other shocks in my status, it might make him want me even more which would in turn give me more negotiating wriggle-room.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Alright, I’m willing to tell you some things, though I don’t promise to answer every question” I agree, making sure to put some reluctance into my voice. I don’t care too much, but it’s clear that this is something big here. I don’t want to seem over-willing to share personal information. “What would you like to know?” I pull up my status screen in preparation to answer.

  *****

  Nicholas doesn’t know where to start. There are so many questions he has about the candidate that choosing one seems to be an impossible task. Adding a complication to that, he has no idea how touchy Wolfe will be about his status. At least he hasn’t demanded a duel just for asking, though. Perhaps Nicholas should start with a simple question, one which few would take objection to. That it’s one of the most important ones makes the choice easier.

  “Ser Wolfe, I would be most interested in knowing your level. Am I right that you are at or above level ten?” Nicholas asks hopefully. He curls his fourth finger into his palm to ask for luck and waits with bated breath. He senses Sarran tensing slightly behind him – his manservant knows how important this candidate is to the future of their House.

  “Please, call me Markus,” the candidate invites. It’s not really a question from his tone of voice – and from what Sarran has told Nicholas of the man, he hasn’t used any of the proper titles for Nicholas since he arrived. Nicholas wonders if the land he comes from doesn’t use them, or if he’s deliberately not using them to make himself Nicholas’ peer in a subtle way. That could be a problem – though heirs are not expected to use much formality with their own lords, it is a completely different matter when other Houses are concerned. But he can learn proper etiquette later – when he’s confirmed as the heir of House Titanbend. “And I’m level twenty-five,” Wolfe answers offhandedly, as if the revelation isn’t absolutely mind-blowing.

  For a moment, Nicholas can only blink.

  “Twenty…twenty-five?” he repeats a moment later, sure he must have misheard.

  “Yep.” Markus seems to be enjoying his shock if the smug little grin on his face is anything to go by. But Nicholas can forgive him for that. Twenty-five…in a year?

  “You are being honest?” Nicholas checks with him, knowing that his voice sounds desperate and not caring. “You’re not deceiving me?”

  The amusement leaves Markus’ face, leaving uncertainty behind. But he doesn’t go back on what he had said.

  “I’m being honest. It says level twenty-five on my status sheet,” he says seriously.

  Nicholas leans heavily back in his chair, exchanging amazed looks with Sarran. His manservant is just as astounded as he is – as well he might be. Level ten was a reasonable guess since even those who do not hunt or absorb Cores tend to reach it within two years. Hunting on a world with a higher natural Energy level would cut that time significantly, though Nicholas had been unsure as to how much the need to collect Energy to pay for his passage to this world would impinge on his levelling. However, level twenty-five was far outside his expectations.

  It can take up to almost thirty years for those who use only passive Energy absorption to get to level twenty-five. Of course, most nobles or wealthy merchants do it in far less time than that since they either have the men to help with hunting or the money to pay for Cores – ten years is the average time for that. But a single year is unheard of! What has the candidate been doing? Fighting dragons morning, noon, and night?

  Then he eyes the two dragon-like beings – apparently called alcaorises – that Wolfe has brought with him. Maybe he’s not so off the mark with his facetious thoughts.

  “Is that…good?” Markus asks uncertainly. Nicholas can’t help but give a short bark of laughter. And if there’s more relief and excitement in it than he was intending, then probably only Sarran will be able to tell.

  “We could say that, yes,” he comments wryly. “My next question, if you are willing to tell me, is about your attributes. How have you chosen to distribute them? You must have many points in Willpower. Is that the only attribute you chose to assign level-up points?” At level twenty-five, the candidate should have had a hundred and fifty points to assign. Given the Tier twos and, more relevantly, the single Tier three arrayed around him, he must have assigned at least a hundred points into Willpower, unless he had managed to bring the Beast Lord’s Willpower down through trickery or affection. That would leave few points for other attributes, though if the candidate has worked hard, he might have made it to the first threshold in some of the other attributes. The physical ones, perhaps – they are the easiest to raise in a wild environment like Nicholas understands the other world to be.

  Nicholas’ eagerness to know more about this mysterious man might be leading him to be more indiscreet than he should be, but Wolfe – Markus – showed no offence at his previous question so he’s willing to push his luck a little. And luckily, it seems that that trend is continuing.

  “My stats are pretty spread out,” Markus answers “My highest is Willpower at a hundred and thirty, and my lowest is Dexterity at forty.”

  Nicholas blinks again and he practically feels the confusion radiate off Sarran behind him.

  “How…?” Nicholas doesn’t even know how to phrase the question – his mind is blank in a way he doesn’t usually experience, not with the number of points he’s assigned to Intelligence. Those points just don’t add up. How could Dexterity be his lowest at forty, if Willpower is his highest at a hundred and thirty? After all, that’s a hundred and seventy by itself, twenty more than the number of level up points he’d have had available by level twenty-five.

  It is possible for Dexterity to be at forty if Willpower was at a hundred and thirty, if the candidate had worked hard to bring Dexterity and Willpower to twenty before adding any points in them at all. But that would make all of his other attributes twenty at the most, not higher than forty.

  here!

  here!

  here!

  here