I made the choice, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of using the skill as soon as possible.
Before I turned off my interface again, I explored the requirements needed for the Forest Warden class rank.
Avatar Level: 24 out of 35
Ranged Weapon: Level 10 out of 20
Sword Mastery: Level 12 out of 20
Pet Bond: Level 3 out of 4
Forest Atunement: Level 2 out of 5
Mountain Atunement: Level 4 out of 5
Battle Tactics: Level 3 out of 5
Advanced Tracking: Level 2 out of 5
Allied with Sirrushi Rangers: 750 out of 3000 Reputation
Companion Affinity: Level 2 out of 4
Reviewing the daunting list, it was apparent I would not be attaining the next class rank any time soon.
I need to gain six levels to start, not to mention polish my bow and sword skills. Yet those didn’t seem to be the ones that would take the longest to acquire. I hadn’t even known that Battle Tactics was a skill, as I’d been ignoring the growing list of minor skills. It was now firmly on my radar, though, and so was Advanced Tracking.
It was interesting to see that Pachi’s Affinity affected me so greatly. I’d need to ask her more about what she needed to gain favor with Citlali, the divinity she’d chosen.
But the showstopper, the piece to this puzzle that would no doubt halt my progression, was the Alliance. I’d worked with Selna and met with the rangers at their convocation, then agreed to help them. That had been worth 750 reputation points. I was worried to think about what it would take to earn the rest of the 3000 needed to gain full Alliance status.
I couldn’t do a thing about it now, so I dismissed the screen from my vision.
Hey, Pachi, I said as I stood and brushed myself off. I have some food but would love to have venison. Care to take down another deer with me?
No need my friend, the enfield said. Reaching around beside herself, she set a sticky haunch of venison before me. I saved this for you. I ate until it hurt.
I laughed and thanked her. The meat didn’t look very good now, but a quick rinse in the stream and roasting it over the fire would change that.
As the sun fell behind a ridge of mountain peaks, and the wind grew impatient and pestered the grove of trees, I set about my dinner.
I chatted with Pachi while the meat cooked. She had questions about every type of meat that I’d tried. Rabbit was tied with boar in her opinion. Having tried lamb once, I mentioned it to her, and she agreed that it sounded good.
I too ate until it hurt, and as the coals died down, I left the meat over the fire to dry out. It would make for good travel rations.
We slept that night cozy as we’d ever been, and when I woke, Pachi didn’t have any complaints about either my snoring or the rising sun. The wood screen that blocked off our cave made the morning rays mild and enjoyable, so we both woke soon after sunup, but with much less urgency than before.
And as our new home filled with the gold of a new day, I couldn’t help but think that my mother would have loved this. Only once, when I was very young, had we driven up into the Sierra Nevada mountains and gone camping.
Reservations were insanely expensive, and my dad had purchased the space over a year in advance. When we’d gotten got there, after dark and tired from the long drive, we had barely been able to assemble our tent. We climbed inside and passed out, happy to be done with the day. But the next morning, the sun pierced our flimsy tent with such untamed beauty that we all lay in our sleeping bags, chatting away in the golden light, until it was too warm to suffer.
So it was with thoughts of the best years in my family’s history that I decided to snuggle up with Pachi, indulging in a slow morning free of restrictions.
When we felt good and ready, we explored the mountains around us.
We found the head of the river that ran down past Judas’ hut, a pool of sapphire-blue water churning from the three snowmelt streams that fed it. In another mountain pass, I spotted a scaled goat with horns that shimmered gold in the sunlight. Pachi asked to descend and confront it in valiant battle, but I dissuaded her. It looked to be nearly as large as Tejón and it was not alone.
Pachi suggested we lunch on a cliff face that overlooked the ocean, our flight having pulled us west again before we turned back south for the day. So I ate venison and Pachi crunched on a stray sheep we’d found, and we looked out over the mountains and hillocks that descended below us, the azure shelf of the ocean shimmering beyond.
Returning before sunset, having found little but awe and beauty abound, we relaxed together and fell asleep early.
I woke Pachi earlier than she appreciated when the morning came. A day spent meandering was pleasant, but if we didn’t find the wyverns soon, trouble might befall our allies.
What exactly we were to look for, I still had no idea. Judas hadn’t either when he told me to seek them out, only that they lived somewhere in the peaks of the Sirrushi Mountains.
We flew three hours or so, heading south and following the mountain range from above. Even in the full light of day, the altitude chilled me to the bone the entire flight.
Setting down in a glade similar to our own for a break, I spent more time stretching out my sore muscles and running in place to warm up than I did eating or resting.
I told Pachi my plan for the next leg of exploration as I worked on a stiff hamstring, Let’s fly east before turning north
