The bodies of the Wysaro warriors were another matter. Rutmonlir disappeared for an hour down into the valley and returned with an ox-drawn wagon he had hired from a farmer. We piled the bodies up in the back and Rutmonlir led it out through the front gate.
“You’re taking them home?” I asked.
“Of course,” he replied.
“Isn’t that dangerous? If you go into Wysaro territory with those bodies, surely the clan will attack you.”
“I don’t reckon so,” he said. “Folks understand how these things have to go.”
“But if someone doesn’t…”
“That’s why I’m going alone. We don’t need to lose more than we have to.”
And with that he trudged down the hill as the wagon rumbled along behind him.
By the time we’d dealt with the bodies, the fire around the arena had gone out, leaving ashes and embers amid the remains of fallen timbers. Night had fallen, but I found myself driven to keep up the work, to clear away whatever I could. The more I did now, the less ruin I would have to face the next morning. It gave me hope for a bright new day.
I wasn’t alone. As they’d come back from the pursuit, Vesma and Kegohr had joined me, helping in whatever task I set myself. Other initiates formed an improvised work crew that began piling up broken planks and splintered pillars before they swept away ashes and spread embers out to die.
“Thank you, all of you,” Master Xilarion said after he appeared at the side of the arena. “You have done great work in difficult circumstances. Now come inside, dinner is prepared.”
We set down our tools and headed toward the main guild hall. But as we passed him, Master Xilarion stopped me, Vesma, and Kegohr.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “I won’t keep you for long.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Kegohr said. “I’m starving. Could eat a whole ox, even if it was still moving.”
“I wanted to thank you all personally,” Xilarion said. “I must praise your heroic efforts, both in your own fighting and in your leadership of the other initiates. Your presence made the difference between victory and defeat. I am proud of you all and of how you have developed here at the guild. You should be proud of who you have become.”
“Thank you, master,” we said. It was more words of praise than we had seen him bestow on anyone. Despite my weariness and aches, I smiled in response.
“Kneel before me,” he said.
We shared confused looks before we obeyed.
“You are now outer disciples of Radiant Dragon,” he said as he laid a hand on each of our heads.
I expected a big ceremony, but this was probably better. While a celebration might have lifted the guild’s spirits, it seemed in poor form. In fact, I preferred this quiet and isolated way to rank up after the previous day’s excitement.
“Stand,” Xilarion said. “You are now allowed to leave the guild on missions in our interest.”
Pride swelled in my chest, and I wondered what specific missions Xilarion would give me. I wanted to see all of the Seven Realms, if possible. Not only to experience the different cultures and people, but also to acquire new elemental techniques.
“You may go and eat now,” Xilarion finished. “But Ethan Murphy, please come to my study once you are done.”
“Yes, master,” I said.
Normally, dinner was a lively time of day. With our daily duties done and food giving us a fresh burst of energy, we would talk excitedly about Augmenting, about fighting, about food, about our lives back home, about anything that came to mind. But tonight, the hall was a subdued place. Initiates ate in silence, accompanied only by the clatter of cutlery.
Vesma, Kegohr, and I had more than our victory to celebrate, but none of the initiates knew about how ascension to outer disciples. It seemed a poor time to inform them about it, so I kept my mouth shut while I filled my stomach with a noodle soup.
“Anyone would think we’d lost,” Vesma whispered as she looked around.
I shrugged. “They’re tired. A lot of them have lost friends. That’ll take it out of you.”
Kegohr grunted, then stood up. Everybody turned to look as he clambered noisily up onto the table, a cup in his hand.
“Hey, hey, hey!” His voice filled the room. “I know why you’re all quiet. I get it. We’ve had a tough day. We’ve taken some knocks. It’s easy to feel down.
“But screw that. We won today. We were outnumbered, we were caught by surprise, and we still won. We’re tougher and better than we ever knew we were. Sure, we’ve lost some people, and it’s right to mourn for them. But it’s right to celebrate too. Because we’ve saved ourselves, saved each other, saved this guild. We’re big damn heroes. And if the only prize we get for that is getting to feel good about it then let’s not throw that prize away.
“Tomorrow, we’ve got more shit to clean up. But tonight we should celebrate. So raise your cups.”
Around the room, people did as they were told. Some rose to their feet and smiled enthusiastically. Others managed little more than a weary nod of acknowledgement. But everybody’s cup went up.
“To the best guild there is,” Kegohr called out. “Here’s to the Radiant Dragon!”
“To the Radiant Dragon!” we all replied.
Vesma and I knocked our cups together, then I downed my goats milk. It wasn’t the same as toasting with beer, but it felt good. It felt even better to look around the room and see how a few words had lifted people’s spirits. A wave of chatter was now rising as the survivors of the battle talked about what they’d been through.
“Nicely done, Kegohr,” I said as he sat back down.
Kegohr grinned. “Someone else got a chance to be the hero for once.”
I winked at him. “Well, you can’t say I never do anything for you.”
“What does Xilarion want to talk to you about?” Vesma asked me.
“I don’t know,” I
