Namu and Mangrove were ported to the entrance of Apex Ranch’s stable. Mira and Cyrille popped into existence a few feet away. Namu’s friends studied him for a second. It was obvious they didn’t know what to say, and after his face-plant on the track, he couldn’t blame them.
“Guess I’d better build a log jump next,” Namu blurted out a little too enthusiastically. “But hey, I think I went faster than any Plantfolk has gone before.” He grinned, hoping it would cover up the lingering sting of failure.
Mira sighed, some of the tension bleeding from the air. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. How do we even get more skill points, though?”
Great. That was another thing Namu hadn’t figured out yet. He looked pleadingly at Cyrille. The Beastfolk took the hint.
“The ranch has an experience bar,” he said. “It’s on the main ranch page, similar to our character screen.”
Namu thought back. He’d seen the main page, but he hadn’t paid much attention. The tabs had been calling too loudly.
“Every activity increases XP,” Cyrille continued. “Successful activities give more, but everything done in Arinae counts as long as it furthers the ranch or MaGriffs somehow.”
Mira chuckled. “So napping doesn’t count. Too bad.”
“Indeed. If napping counted, I could power-level this place.”
Mangrove shifted under Namu, and he became acutely aware of how stiff he had become. All the adrenaline from the race had left him exhausted and worn, and he hadn’t been the one running. Namu slid out of the saddle.
“Well,” Namu said. “If we can unlock more stuff just by working the ranch, I’d say that’s just about as good as napping. Speaking of work, I think Mangrove needs some care.”
Cyrille stepped up, but Namu shook his head. He’d felt connected to the MaGriff during the race, as if they’d become one being as they hurtled down the track, and he wouldn’t ask Cyrille to wash him down. Cyrille took it in stride. The Beastfolk ushered Mira off with the excuse of needing to hear about her plans for decorating the ranch house.
*****
By the time Namu had cleaned himself and Mangrove off, stripped both of them of tack and silks, and got Mangrove comfortable in his turnout, Namu was ready to root for the day despite the sun being only halfway across the sky. Then again, he had never found rooting to be as refreshing as other Plantfolk. As much as he tried to pretend otherwise, he was still bitter about how his first race had turned out. There was only one surefire way of getting his mood out of the dirt.
Mira had seemingly exhausted the topic of decorating, and to Namu’s surprise, she and Cyrille were both lounging in the ranch house with screens up, looks of concentration on their faces. As Namu walked in, the screens blinked away. Mira held up a deck of cards. A wide, sharp-fanged grin appeared. Namu shivered. That grin was more terrifying on her delicate face than Cyrille could ever manage. It was also familiar. Normally, the Kentauros kept her predatory instincts under wraps outside of battle—except in a few instances.
Cyrille looked at Namu in defeat. “I only mentioned that a game night would be nice to unwind with.”
“It’s a damn good idea,” Mira practically hissed. She laid out a pile of gold coins on their little table. “And since we spent so much on this place, we’re all low on pocket change. So, what better time to see who gets what’s left, hmm?”
Her grin grew wider. A manic glint shone in her eyes. Namu knew money didn’t matter to her. Not now. Right then, all she cared about was the thrill of chance. Her intense interest in gambling had been another big reason they’d created their savings, and Mira had done a good job of curtailing her urges since. Unless she got too stressed.
“Money on the table, boys,” she said. “It’s time to play.”
*****
Namu was ready to root right in the middle of the house. The sun had finished its travels, then the moon, and now the sun peeked back over the horizon, spilling pale light into the candle-lit room. Deep, dark circles rimmed Cyrille’s eyes. His movements had slowed over the hours, and he didn’t twitch as Mira threw down another winning hand. He and Namu dutifully gave up their last bit of coin.
Namu sighed in relief. Finally, it was done. He and Cyrille had put up a decent fight. Even won some hands, but Mira had the luck of the Goddess, and every time they made a dent in her growing hoard of winnings, she gobbled it back up and then some. It always ended the same way.
He used to wonder why she lost so much in gambling dens when she stomped them. Then he went with her. He’d quickly learned it wasn’t the Kentauros’s luck that was the problem. She just didn’t know how to stop when she was ahead.
“Another round!” Mira said with glee.
As Namu and Cyrille had grown more exhausted, she’d grown more energized. Crazed perhaps. But not tired.
Cyrille snored in the armchair.
Mira slapped his shoulder. “Hey, wake up! You’re not done already, are you?”
Cyrille stayed limp. Mira turned her crazed gaze onto Namu. He stood up and backpedaled toward the door.
“I…uh…have to take care of the…uh…birds,” he said.
The front door shut on Mira’s continued protests. Namu stumbled toward the stables. It hadn’t been a lie. He needed to feed the…what were they called? Namu wracked his tired mind. MaGriffs. Right. That it got him away from another grueling round of cards was just a bonus. He had to give Mira credit, though. He no longer cared about the race.
*****
The next week went by a bit too slowly for Namu’s taste, but considering he had no skill points and no desire to run another race just yet, there wasn’t much he could do about it. So, he took the time to buckle down and cram all the info he could from the many entries about MaGriff ranching and racing. He learned failed races gave XP, even if it was a lot less than winning. That made him feel a little guilty for skipping the week’s race. But only a little. While his failure wasn’t eating at him like before, he knew another mistake so soon would be much harder to recover from. Plus, his coin pool hadn’t recovered from Mira’s gambling spree.
He also read about an additional way of gaining XP. It was more than losing races, but Namu wasn’t sure he understood the nuances of it. He needed someone to bounce the idea off of. Mira and Cyrille had gone off to Myth and Magic’s world to check on their home. Oddly, the thought of going back felt like giving up to Namu. He knew he could come back. His friends had already done so, yet it still felt dangerous, as if leaving would drain his enthusiasm. Good thing he had someone who was still in Arinae. Hopefully.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Namu pulled the black guest key from his inventory and focused on it.
REQUEST FOR ACCESS TO ECLIPSE RANCH SENT
REQUEST GRANTED
An aquamarine portal, just like the one that had brought him to Apex Ranch, appeared. Namu stepped through into an extremely familiar setting. Eclipse Ranch was the same size with the same basic amenities as Apex. That proved what Namu had read—all ranches were identical to start. Since all ranch owners had free rein to build and expand from the starter area as they wished, Namu figured it wouldn’t be long before each ranch became unique. As it stood, Eclipse Ranch already differed from Apex in at least one aspect—it didn’t have a sprint hill. Instead, a simple log pull station sat close to the starter ranch house. A brown-green MaGriff in a complicated-looking harness dutifully tugged the log through the grass.
Namu had ported in near the ranch house as well, and a moment after he appeared, the front door opened, and Namu was face-to-face with Yinying. The skeleton had swapped their black silks for a flowing purple robe. The cloth shone in the afternoon sun, gaining a glitter that spoke of expensive materials.
“Ah, Namu,” Yinying said. Their voice held a hint of surprise, but warmth heavily covered it. “I see you took me up on my offer. Good. Please come in.”
The Nightfolk ushered Namu into the living room, where a couch of the same make Mira had picked out sat, a deep blue and purple galaxy print across its surface. Namu sat down on it without hesitation. Mira having a finger on the pulse of wealthy fashion stopped surprising him a long time ago.
Yinying placed two very delicate teacups covered in stars on the table. Steam carried the smell of flowers into the air. Yinying sat in the armchair, but as soon as they touched the seat, they shot back up.
“Oh!” Yinying said. “I didn’t even think. Is the tea okay? Should I take it away?”
Namu’s thoughts bounced around. Why wouldn’t it be okay? Was there some Nightfolk etiquette he didn’t know? Would he offend Yinying if he said the tea was fine?
The smell of mud rose from Namu and wrestled with the scent of flowers. Either Yinying knew the signal for Plantfolk confusion, or it showed clearly on his face, because the Nightfolk relaxed a bit at Namu’s silence.
“Perhaps…it is okay?” Yinying asked.
“Uh…yes. It’s fine. Smells quite nice, even.”
“Ah. Okay. I wasn’t sure if you drank tea or not, considering what it’s made from.”
Namu stifled a laugh. Yinying still looked anxious. Laughing would probably have sent the Nightfolk into a panic attack.
“No,” Namu said. “It’s all right. A Plantfolk won’t be bothered by parts of plants any more than a Beastfolk would be bothered by steak.” Namu cocked his head, his desire to have some fun overriding his courtesy. “Unless you’re using Plantfolk or Beastfolk.”
The light in Yinying’s eyes shrank to a pinpoint. They wobbled on their feet, and for a second, he worried they were about to faint. Did skeletons faint?
“N-never!” Yinying said in a high-pitched voice.
Namu laughed. “Of course not.”
Yinying grew rigid as their eyes refilled with light.
Great. He’d offended someone again. Namu waited for the Nightfolk to kick him out, yet Yinying chuckled, shook their head, then sat delicately in the chair.
“That’s a good one,” they said. “If you don’t mind my asking, I know Plantfolk need water, but do you get it, or food, from more than the soil and sun?”
The sudden, probing question about the workings of his race surprised Namu, but in a good way. He never understood many Rebirths’ need to avoid interesting subjects and stick to mundane, pointless ones. Like the weather.
“We don’t eat, it’s true. Don’t even have a stomach as a lot of other races know it. Plantfolk do have throats, obviously, and something like lungs. We also have holding areas for liquids. We can absorb water when rooted, or even from rain falling on us, but unless we’re barely moving, we need a lot more water than that to stay healthy. Not unlike humans or Beastfolk.”
Yinying nodded. “Ah. I see. So soup in no good, but teas are fine. Excellent. I have an extensive collection of tea blends from all over the world. I look forward to sharing them with you.”
The Nightfolk looked away in what Namu assumed was…bashfulness, maybe?
“If you want, of course,” Yinying said.
“Sure.”
Namu studied the Nightfolk. There was something odd in the way they acted. Almost as if they were waiting to make a mistake, and were quite worried about it. Not that different from him, he supposed. At least the mistake part. He rarely worried about it. His enthusiasm about his current focal point tended to get him in trouble. Speaking of which, he’d come to Yinying’s ranch with a question in mind, and now seemed like as good a time as any to ask it.
“Have you looked into MaGriff breeding yet?” he asked.
Yinying sat up straight. At first, Namu thought he’d startled the Nightfolk again, but Yinying’s eyes flared brighter as they waved their hands around in excitement.
“Absolutely!” Yinying said. “I already have my hen incubating her second egg right now. The first chick rolled low stats, so I released it.”
Namu’s heart sank. Was he falling behind already?
“Uh,” he said, trying to hide the disappointment. “I see. I thought it would be a good way to get passive XP, since I don’t have a second set of tack.”
“It is. Have you hatched an egg as well?”
“No, I…I didn’t even read about breeding until today.”
“Ah.” Yinying leaned back in their chair and steepled their hands. “Hmm. That does put you behind a little in XP, but such things happen. Better to do so early and learn than later when a single advantage may mean the difference between winning and losing.”
Namu snorted. “Mistakes matter now, too.”
“Yes, but everyone is making some. None of us are well-versed in this new world, and I have a feeling this is going to be a long road with a lot of bumps, no matter who you are. Doesn’t that make it even more exciting?”
The gleam had returned to the Nightfolk’s eyes. Namu had tagged Yinying as the sort of Rebirth who was racing to prove themself, but he knew that fire. Yinying wanted to win. A wiser Rebirth probably would have clammed up so they wouldn’t get too friendly with a likely rival. Namu was far too happy to find a kindred spirit to care.
“It does!” It was his turn to wave his arms around. “There’s so many things I can’t do that other races take for granted, and this is such a big one. No way I could do this if my weight counted, but now? Even a Smallfolk has no advantage!”
Yinying laughed. “Exactly. It’s refreshing to see another who understands. My kindred fought hard to keep me from buying this ranch. They said it was a waste of treasure. Just wait until I’m sitting on top.”
Namu hoped they would settle for second. He still had eyes on the top spot.
Yinying went silent. Their gaze bored into Namu. His bark prickled as he realized he didn’t know if skeletons could read minds.
“What if we helped each other?” the Nightfolk asked.
“How so?”
“Breeding rights, to start. We can’t keep breeding starters together and waiting for a breakthrough. We need to create lines. If we exchange those lines, our individual workload is halved.”
Yet another thing he hadn’t considered. To get better MaGriffs, you had to breed them together, find the best offspring, and then do it again. Yet offspring stats depended on parental stats, with some randomness, selection processes, and mutation chances Namu hadn’t studied. The short of it meant you needed to breed your MaGriffs to the same generation or higher to gain progress. It also meant that if you wanted all of your breeding lines to be on your ranch, you’d need a massive stable and a ton of pasture space.
The amount of XP and time he’d need for that to happen boggled Namu’s mind. Halving the work would still be an enormous amount, but it would be an amazing shortcut. He just needed to make sure he and Yinying were on the same page.
“So,” Namu said. “If we use each other’s lines, that means no fees, right?”
“Of course,” Yinying said. “Otherwise, it’s no different from using the market.”
“Okay. What about these ‘lines’ though? You trained strength first. I trained speed. If we’re going to exchange lines, won’t they clash?”
“Not if we develop three lines. You focus on speed, then strength. I’ll focus on strength, then speed. We can mix the lines to create a third.”
“But our focus made both of us trip over the jumps. I was thinking about switching to agility.”
“I think we had bad luck more than anything, but perhaps you’re right. Don’t go pure then. Speed primary, agility secondary. I’ll do strength and stamina. It will be a good experiment. Which line will end up better in the end, or will it even matter?”
Namu picked up his teacup and sipped it. It tasted only slightly less floral than it smelled, with a hint of sweetness. MaGriff stats consisted of health, strength, speed, stamina, and agility. If they combined lines, the only stat left would be health. As far as Namu knew, there was no current way to train health. That came from some feed. Overall, he couldn’t see a downside other than having to rely on another rancher, and a potential rival, to keep his lines going. Then again, Yinying would be in the same position. There had been a prior event where someone close to him in the rankings had offered an alliance to help them both climb the ladder. He’d figured his friends’ help was better than a stranger’s, even if he didn’t make it to the top, so he had declined. He couldn’t say he’d never regretted his decision, though.
