A chilly wind blows through a camp, softening the sound of whistling steel slicing through empty space. A tent rests between trees, hidden away from the world. Dave shifts his footing, imagining an enemy in front of him. He jabs, twisting to reach as far as he can.

  “You’re gonna knock yourself off balance.” Dave nods to Fleur, then thinks on how best to keep himself stable. “Maybe try your talon, I mean, feet position. Stance is pretty important for lamia.”

  “Think we could convince some kobolds to show him?” Maribelle had made herself comfortable on the edge of camp, idly hammering the tin Dave once wore into thick disks for trading. “With some gold hammered into disks, I'm sure we can somehow make them understand.”

  “Kobolds?” He moves to a more neutral position, shaking out the tension in his left hand. “You mean the thing in D&D?” He looks to the two girls owlishly. “Honestly, that would be a fun thing to play right now, instead of training to fight.” Maribelle nods, unsure of what he's talking about.

  “Right…” Fleur clears her throat, “Kobolds are a reptilian species known for scales, being pests and liking to trade. They have legs, so I’m sure they’ll have some methods to teach you to fight.” Fleur sits down on a log, watching as Dave gets back to practising jabbing the spear forward. “Oh, Dave. Good thinking on snatching that spear from that harpy back in Millwater. Way stronger than that bronze you wielded beforehand.” She tosses a stick into the fireplace, watching the embers eagerly claim the stick. She thought it was an apt comparison to their adventure so far. Just accepting what was thrown at them.

  The sound of hammering and training almost coaxes her to sleep as the sun sets, slowly chilling the world around them. Maribelle is the first to stop, sliding her void bag over the anvil to store it. She sits next to Fleur, holding a disk of tin in her wings. “Progress.” Fleur looks over at the disk, then to Maribelle. “We could live literally anywhere on the mainland with this alone, it's crazy. Dave!” Fleur startles, suddenly wide awake, “Put away the spear and come rest at the fire.” Dave does as she says, storing the spear and making himself comfortable next to Fleur.

  The three listen to the sounds of the forest, bugs chirping, the fire and slowly softening birds as it gets darker and darker. Maribelle looks between the other two, before looking at their waists. “Hey, Fleur. Your blessing.” It’s barely a mumble, almost inaudible over the small fire.

  “Two months after you left. If only I’d been there for her. I don’t want to dismantle it, but I’ll eventually buy a new blessing.” Fleur looks back to Maribelle, then down to her blessing belt, a shiny crimson oval in the middle hole. “That one is new.”

  Dave watches as Maribelle weaves a tale of taking a blessing from a harpy who’d tried to steal from her store, leaving her quarry with a permanently damaged wing. “My guess is that it's that harpy’s own blessing. It’ll stay active for a long time.” She pulls the blessing out of the hole, passing it to Dave to look over. He flicks up on it, opening his menu. “Hey, don’t take it.”

  “Raffsil’s Blessing, level 1.” Dave reads the text he can see, the other two suddenly realising an obvious advantage they now held.

  “Oh my gods we don’t need to have new blessings appraised!“ Maribelle claps her wings together, a soft thudding sound coming from them.

  “We should have taken the blessing of the twat you stabbed! Missed opportunity!” Fleur frustratingly slams a wing against the log, then has to brush some wood off her feathers.

  “Effect,” Dave continues, a smile on his face, “Reduce the defence of any struck enemy by 15% until midnight. What about yours, Fleur?” He passes it back to Maribelle, then sees Fleur’s downtrodden expression, unwilling to look at him.

  “When someone dies, their blessing loses its power after a full month.” Maribelle’s voice is quiet, the two girls in mourning. “That one belonged to a very good friend. A wonderful woman who nursed us two back to health. She made a blessing for Fleur when she decided to start fighting, years ago.”

  There's a moment of silence for the fallen harpy, before an icy air whips through camp, disrupting the fire for a moment. The two girls stand up and kill the fire, tossing dirt into it. Dave watches in bewilderment. “Tent.” Fleur manages to get out, gesturing towards it. The silver tent interior of Maribelle’s tent holds an odd crystal suspended from the roof with a rope. He nudges his way into a corner, watching the two girls duck in. Dave settles into a bedroll, watching Fleur press both wings against the crystal. It lights up slightly, a calming hum as it turns the mana into heat slowly. Maribelle closes the tent flap and zips it up, before charging an additional crystal on the flap. This one is silent when charged, with only a dim white glow.

  Their sleep is dreamless, Maribelle and Fleur cuddling for comfort.

  Fleur is the last to wake, the sound of chirping rousing her from her sleep. Her hair sticks to the side of her face, loose feathers fall off her cheek as she sturs. She sits up to an empty tent, the crystals having turned off ages ago. She staggers her tired self out of the tent to the other two. Maribelle sits comfortably with Dave, adjusting his scale gauntlets using her talons. She watches the two idly chat about the world.

  “There we go.” Maribelle pulls her feet away from Dave, admiring her handiwork. ”Those gauntlets aren't going anywhere. I take pride in myself as a blacksmith, so,” She spots Fleur, then snorts, having issues finishing her sentence, “Something like, oh my gods, Fleur, I’d honestly forgotten how bad your bed hair is. Sit down, I'll brush it.”

  The group finally continue their walk to Birchlea, talking and sharing stories with each other until the sound of a bush near them shakes, all three immediately fully focused. Both harpies take to the sky, with Fleur leaping back. Dave struggles to draw his steel spear, and even opens his inventory for a shield he took from Maribelle’s shop. The hardwood shield shines with its polish, a sheet of durable wood and iron bands protecting him from the threat.

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

  It’s almost comical when a lizard, up to Dave’s knee, slinks out, frills shaking and conical teeth exposed. It hisses at the three. “A Frill March.” Fleur informs Dave, landing. “We must be near its nest or hunting grounds. A decent source of exp. Dave. Let's put that practice to use. Kill it.”

  “Huh?” Dave looks back for a split second before hearing it scutter at him. He backsteps rapidly in a panic, wildly jabbing the spear in its general direction. A magic bolt slams in front of the lizard and it backs up. Dave plants the shield on the ground and nervously points the spear at it again. “Fleur, I don’t like this!”

  “It’s an animal, one that has hunted harpy eggs. This is doing us a favour.” Fleur glares at the Frill March. “A fucking nuisance that we eliminate whenever we can.” That seems to calm Dave’s nerves as he steps towards it, just to back up as it fakes a lunge. Maribelle takes its attention as she flies to its left, then back to Dave as he steps forward. Dave finally jabs at it.

  Its jaws lock around the spear shaft, trying to tear it from his grasp. Dave drops the shield to keep his hands on his weapon, before realising it's extremely light. He tests lifting it into the air slightly.

  Fleur cackles like a maniac as Dave swings his spear like a baseball bat, slamming his quarry into a tree. It lets go of the spear after impact, falling off the tree and receiving a spear to the side. Dave retreats back to his shield, picking it up as the Frill March charges him again, undeterred by the wounds. Dave’s spear lands centre mass piercing right through its back, pinning it to the ground. It stills a few moments later.

  Fleur happily walks up to Dave, a smile on her face. “Your skills are really odd. You definitely know where and how to aim, but you're clearly unused to the weight of your weapon. Where did you train before?”

  “Uhh,” Dave looks to the dead lizard, then back to Fleur, “VR?” She tilts her head in confusion. “It's like,” He waves his spear, struggling for words, “It’s a fake training centre. Where I can load simulations to train and fight in.”

  “Interesting.” Fleur slowly responds, having not understood some of the words.

  “Ah, there's that calming background music I like.” Dave slows down when the three enter the village, the harpies giving him an odd look. The bathhouse was mostly empty, with the three sharing a room. Dave scrubs at his hand while Fleur practically lies in the bath.

  The bath turns out to be a quiet affair until the end, with Fleur getting Dave to wash their backs. While he's still a flustered mess, he does manage his task. Maribelle focuses her attention on Fleur’s back, sharp eyes on how tight her back is. She gently brushes a talon against her sister, then presses the side into her back. “Sheesh, Fleur. When was the last time you had your back massaged?”

  “Last time we went together.”

  “We have to change that, No wonder you’re so stressed out all the time!” The other two look at her, then Dave looks away hastily. “Dave, do you know how to massage someone?” Dave slowly nods, still unwilling to look at Maribelle, or Fleur. “Well then, Fleur needs it!” Maribelle tries to guide Fleur to a table for their stuff, moving them away from her wings.

  “Seriously, Maribelle.” Fleur looks back at her, then slowly to Dave who refuses to look at them. “You hardly look like you kept up with personal care, and don’t pull Dave into this either.” Fleur gestures with a wing to Maribelle.

  “Later, then?” Maribelle grabs her towel, wrapping it around her torso.

  “Fine.” Fleur gives in, wrapping her towel around herself. Dave waits for the two to leave before slowly standing up, moving to his own towel.

  “Those two are going to give me a heart attack at this rate.”

  The village diner was in a flurry of movement, the end of the week being the cause for most of the harpies to go spend paychecks on decent meals. Harpies in waitress outfits slid through gaps to deliver meals of fish, soup and veg to excited girls. The three sat near the door, large soup bowls in front of them.

  Fleur brought her talons to her lips, sipping on the hot soup while Maribelle animatedly discussed ideas with Dave. She occasionally levelled glares at other harpies eying Dave up, discouraging them from harassing him.

  “We can head to Alteresa for the Alteresan set and get you a proper helmet, most of us do like to trade unneeded gear to each other! Maybe get a new dagger for myself and Fleur some actual armour!” Maribelle giggles at Fleur’s unamused glance at her. “Not to mention the full set is defensive as well, and the blessing is strong as well. It opens in like two weeks for an entire day a year.”

  “That's why I see so many that have that green plate armour?” Maribelle nods to Dave.

  The diner’s atmosphere slowly goes cold as the door opens, a dissonant jingle that most ignore. Fleur shifts to glance past the others and her blood runs cold. A harpy of piercing yellow eyes scans the crowd, a familiar tan skin and circlet of silver ornamented with ruby stands in the doorway. Crimson feathers fill her wings, transitioning to a dull orange at the tips. A green sports bra with light teal coloured plating stays completely still, even with her admittedly large chest for a harpy. Dark green breeches fit tightly over her legs and waist, with three metal buttons in the front. A badly cut bob of crimson falls to her shoulders and neck. Her eyes land on a newly worried Dave.

  Quite a few harpies stand when they realise she's going for Dave, weapons drawn as Fleur gets between her and Dave. “Fuck off Sage. Go back to your handlers.” Sage looks up at Fleur, amber meeting yellow. Sage reaches with a wing into her void bag, pulling out lipstick of all things. Royal purple lipstick is applied while holding it with a wing, as if she really didn’t care about the nearby fifty weapons drawn. She leans in with a smirk.

  “I win this one, you know that.” Sage pushes past a fuming Fleur, standing directly in front of Dave. “So, you’re the new man. Congratulations. Make your way to Silverfield, and with your party. If you aren’t there, the Outer Core will hunt and kill you.” She ignores the yelling about how that's unfair from the diner, putting her lipstick away as she leaves.

  The silence is deafening after she’s gone, flying away. “Who?” Dave manages to break the silence and is almost immediately overwhelmed by everyone.

  “A traitor!” A silverhead yells from one corner.

  “A bastard child!”

  “A twit!”

  “The child of a Homunculi!”

  “So that's what we’re calling Breeze, huh?” The diner breaks into laughter. Dave looks to Maribelle, who’s clearly nervous, then to Fleur who's vibrating with unconcealed rage.

  “She's a piss poor excuse of a harpy, a traitor to us New Worlds and gives the [Sky Knight] class a bad name.” Fleur hisses out, slamming a wing against the wall.

  Maribelle takes a deep breath, clenching her wings, grasping her leggings. “She's an [Osprey Incarnate], a really tanky class that focuses on self survival. We joke that she's the child of another [Sky Knight] base class, Breeze, the Harpy Queen’s right hand wing.”

  The merriment doesn’t return as everyone gets back to eating in relative silence.