Fritz's stomach fell when he discovered the addition to his Spire sheet. There, in his Techniques was a new entry: Python's Fangs. This was just what he was attempting to avoid, another useless Technique filling up his channels. The wind and rain of his Sanctum roared and the branches of his willow rocked in the sudden squall. He almost let out a yell, but all that was cut short when he noticed that he still had a channel free and the conspicuous absence of the Arte Pugilist.

As the air stilled, Fritz frowned and focused on the glyphs of the new Technique.

---------

---

Python's Fangs (Novice)

Twist and curl, cling and clasp. Bitten, bleeding, inside your grasp.

Gives minor benefits to the Strength, Agility and Grace of dodges, grapples and strikes with small blades.

Your grapples are more difficult to escape.

Abilities that restrain or exhaust your foes are more difficult to dispel.

These benefits increase when striking a restrained foe.

Abilities gained and Evolved are more likely to be influenced with these effects.

---

You fused two incomplete Techniques: The Arte Pugilist and Viper's Fangs, resulting in this amalgamation.

---

---------

He calmed upon understanding what had happened. That last sentence explained how he had attained Python's Fangs. However, one thing stood out to him. He was a Novice in The Arte Pugilist, not incomplete as the glyphs suggested. Perhaps his attempts to forget it had weakened the Technique's grip on his Sanctum and allowed it to be transformed in such a way?

It made sense, but he would have to ask Adam about it later. For now, he was just glad that he hadn't ruined his chances at filling his last channel with the Inevitable Blade. There was also the fact that the Technique suited him far better than the either the Arte Pugilist or the Viper's Fangs. Especially since it seemed that Python's Fangs would benefit his Lethargy curse, and maybe his Stone Pit. If he could find a way shape the rock to 'restrain' his foe.

There were many applications for this Technique, not just those he already had. And if it's power shaped some of the Evolutions he'd be offered he didn't think he'd be upset at more Controller Abilities.

He sighed, relief flooding him. Acquiring Python's Fangs wasn't the catastrophic blunder he had been dreading, if anything it was a mere setback. His reprieve was short-lived, something moved in the corner of his eye. A soft silhouette, barely a shadow, fluttered behind the gossamer purple curtains of his pavilion and was gone.

He jumped up, determined to chase whatever had slipped behind the wall, but when he strode under the grey roof and scanned the floor and furniture, he found nothing. Well, nothing but the chaotically contorting Eldritch Flame in its brazier. It glared at him sullenly, a deadly bored child wanting to be free and frolicking.

Fritz glared back.

"Are you playing tricks on me?" He asked the fire, assuming it had spun the flicker of shadow.

It didn't respond, crackling quietly.

"Fine," Fritz said, giving the interior of the pavilion one last glance.

For some reason it felt larger than it had been, though it was only slight, an inch added here or there. Another question for his tutor. Fritz yawned, the fatigue was setting in, after all, he had been through this night he couldn't wait to get some sleep.

He left his Sanctum to find Toby watching him.

"What?" Fritz asked.

"Nothing," Toby said, returning his gaze to the book in front of him.

Fritz pulsed his Awareness, and the impressions came back clear. No unease and likely no cut-throat or rat lurking somewhere in the shadows.

"We're not being watched. If there's something on your mind, now would be the best time to air your thoughts," Fritz stated.

"You look different," Toby said, speaking what had occurred to him.

"It's to be expected. I can afford plentiful food and clean clothes now. As can you," Fritz espoused.

"No, it's in your face and eyes," Toby insisted.

"Oh?" Fritz said.

"They have a... quality. Like you're not real, but also too real," he said thoughtfully.

"Don't let Jane hear you speak of my quality, she'll get jealous," Fritz smirked.

Toby chuckled. "True as the rain."

"Speaking of Jane, do you think she could help me with the cut Craig left me with?" Fritz asked, changing the subject, and showing off the bloodied bandage over his waist.

Toby nodded. "She could mend it easy. She's been taking care of my wounds every night. I'll take you to her after I'm done with this chapter."

"Thank you," Fritz said.

Toby shrugged. "We're alive because of your mercy. We still owe you a debt."

Fritz nodded at that, proud of his previous choice to help the two.

The conversation ended there and Toby went back to his book. Fritz, however, couldn't force himself to concentrate on such things. In these moments of quiet, all the events of the night came rushing back.

The toad-man-alikes; the Aberrant and the King; the overwhelming power displayed. The conjured river and that thin line of water that he cast, easily slicing the beasts in half with one casual stroke. One Ability had stopped, had slaughtered, the corralled invaders. How many more Powers did the King have that were just as deadly?

The thought made Fritz question himself, his own significance in the face of such strength. He found himself, his whole team, wanting. If he were to earn the King's ire, what could he do? He couldn't fight such a man. The King wasn't like the raider, he wouldn't fight alone and even if he did greater numbers meant nothing, as he proved with the beasts.

Fritz realised he was treating the King as a foe he'd have to fight someday. He shook his head discarding the mad thought. He had no quarrel with the King, only a grudge that he let the Guides Guild do as they pleased. Truly, if he could help it, he wanted to never see the man again. Yet something deep within told him he wouldn't be so fortunate. He hoped he was being paranoid.

The minutes passed, and Fritz continued to relive the night and the mistakes he'd made. He made sure that his Umbral Phase was unsuppressed, he wouldn't walk around without it active any longer. It was beyond foolish to do so, but he had gotten lazy, distracted, careless. He couldn't afford to be even one of those things.

And worse, in the heat of battle, when he'd been caught by the toad, he hadn't realised his error. It was a failure that he could have avoided. Though there was one other thing he noticed. Thankfully, it wasn't another mistake, but a positive result of his efforts. His Awareness didn't falter once during the night and still lingered in the back of his mind.

No, it wasn't all failures. He had successes in both besting Toby in a knife fight, and scoring, however slight, a cut on Craig himself. Though he would have to thank Python's Fangs for his minor victories. That was another thing he would have to consider, while the Technique was useful, and a far better match for his fighting style than the Arte Pugilist or the Viper's Fangs were, it wasn't what he desired.

He would have to forget this one too, eventually. For now, he would hold onto it, as long as he was required to knife fight at least.

Absently Fritz flexed his Dusksong, attempting to weave it around his hand as Craig had displayed with Nightwell. His arm glowed dimly with pale purple light. It brightened and blurred the outline of his sleeve, right at the edges, as though he was looking at himself through a plane of foggy glass.

With a sigh he stopped the exercise, Dusksong's strange mana had an appearance that failed to be a facsimile of darkness and its gleam and gloom would never pass for Nightwell. Not without some practice, or maybe an application of Illusory Shadow.

Toby closed his book and the sound brought Fritz out of his thoughts.

"Done?" Fritz asked.

Toby nodded.

"Any closer to the shadow gloves?" Fritz inquired.

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Toby sighed wearily. "I'm not there yet. It's hard to get the shape right without it numbing you."

Fritz nodded.

"Before, when we waited for you, Craig gave me some tips," Toby said.

"Did he?"

"Yeah, also said there were tools I could use for wardbreaking if I couldn't get it right," he elaborated.

"I suspect he told you not to share these facts with me," Fritz assumed.

"That's right," Toby agreed.

Fritz nodded, and pulsing his Awareness just to be sure, looked around the room again. It was as safe as can be, probably one of the safest spots in the district if he thought about it. What with all the wards.

As he learned more of the glyphs, he discovered that not all of the rune-embossed lines and circles were for keeping the room dry. Some were there to protect the books from more aggressive assailants, thieves and vermin most among them. There were also those that, if Fritz was reading them right, would recognise books and would send an alarm if they were removed from Wardbreaker's Den. Where and to whom he didn't know, but he supposed it was best not to find out.

Certain that there was no one listening, but not wanting to risk anyone overhearing, Fritz whispered, "The Blood Serum could have been poisoned."

"Poisoned, how do you know? Are you alright?" Toby asked quietly.

"I have something of a sense for it. And I'll be fine, I took an antidote," Fritz boasted. "But I do worry it might be a toxin of the slow-acting kind, or something else. And I also wanted to warn you. You should find an antidote for yourself, or simply not drink it."

Toby nodded seriously. "Do you know why?"

Fritz shook his head. "Who really knows? It could be for any number of aims or agendas."

"We could go to, you know... 'her'. Maybe she could set him straight?" Toby suggested, alluding to the Nightshark.

"We'd need proof first, which I intend to obtain. Though who knows, maybe the serum is toxic in its own right. Naomi has said as much about certain other tonics. We'll see from there."

"Right," Toby said.

"In the meantime, shall we go and get our cuts healed by the lovely Jane?" Fritz suggested.

"Right, follow me."

The pair left the small library and climbed the walls of an alley to quickly take advantage of the roofs. From there Toby led Fritz deeper into the bluestone district and to a surprisingly large and well-maintained rectangular building behind a high wall.

Toby motioned for Fritz to follow him down onto the street.

"Why not just go over the wall?" Fritz asked.

"There are... uh guards... thugs, to make sure Jane's safe," Toby explained.

"To make sure she can't run or sell her services elsewhere," Fritz said.

"That as well," Toby admitted morosely. "It's not too bad though. We get some small privacy, we have half the second floor to ourselves. It's as close to luxury as you can get down here. Clean and dry. Pretty quiet too. We're not bothered much, except when there's an enforcer bleeding out in the middle of the night."

"So this is a secret healing house?" Fritz asked.

"That's right, Jane and the others patch up those who are in a bad way. She also works down in the fighting ring most nights. It's a good living, and she's well paid," Toby said proudly, before knocking out a routine rhythm on a heavy wooden door set into the wall.

An inch-wide window slid open, revealing a hard set of eyes. They lit with recognition when they met Toby's own dark glare, and with a clack and a thud the door opened. A bulky man in half plate stood in the doorway, filling the entrance easily.

"Blades," the tall thug greeted.

"Brick," Toby replied.

"Blades?" Fritz asked.

Toby glanced at Fritz, a mote of anxiety sparking from him. "It's my name, Toby Blades."

Of course, it was. Fritz almost laughed. The name was a bit on the nose and all to predictable, but in the end it did suit the man.

"Fearsome," Fritz said, suppressing his smirk.

"Who's this?" The thug ostensibly named Brick asked.

"Fritz," Toby said.

"Ain't heard of him. Can't come in if I don't know ya," Brick stated.

"He's one of us. Show him, Fritz," Toby said, motioning at his black fang.

Fritz did, pulling on his collar and revealing the dark tattoo. The thug nodded and swung the door wide open, letting them through without another word.

From there they entered the building and went up the stairs, turned to the right then knocked on another door.

"Who is it?" Jane's voice called out.

"It's me," Toby said.

"Come in quickly. I've been waiting all night for you, my love," she said. "I need you."

Toby blinked, then coughed. Not meeting Fritz's eyes, he spoke. "I have Fritz with me, he needs some cuts seen to."

There was a squeak from beyond the door and the shuffling of cloth.

"Don't come in!" Jane yelled.

They stood there awkwardly as they waited for permission to enter. Fritz wore a bland expression, but couldn't keep the smirk off of his expression completely, judging from Toby's scowl.

"When's the wedding?" Fritz asked.

"We've sent out invitations. So if you have to ask, you're not invited," Toby said drily.

"How cruel," Fritz lamented.

"Honestly, we haven't a date yet, but we want to get it done soon. Before the baby," Toby said, and Fritz could see the worry and giddy joy forming a halo about his shoulders.

The door opened and Jane ushered the two in. The woman was in a robe of healer's green and white, and for the first time he'd ever seen, she looked healthy. Though she still had dark bags under her eyes, her round face positively glowed and she had gained some much-needed weight. From that and the fine furnishings of her and Toby's room, it seemed that the Nightshark was taking good care of the valuable healer.

"What are you staring at?" Jane accused, frowning.

"You look well, and I'm glad to see it," Fritz flattered. "This place is nice too, is that a feather bed?"

"'She' makes sure I'm comfortable," Jane said, smiling for a moment. But then she was back to stern reproach. "Where are these wounds that need tending? I don't have all night. Not for you at least."

Fritz lifted his shirt, showed her his waist, removing the bandage and displaying the mess of sticky blood and stinking healing grease below.

"That's it?" She asked. "You'll be fine with some healing grease and proper stitches."

"Jane," Toby chided.

"What? I'm low on mana, if I heal him I won't be able to heal you," she said curtly.

"Jane. I'm fine, see to Fritz. It's the least we can do for him," Toby entreated.

"Fine," Jane sighed. "We have to clean it first, either way."

She moved to a cabinet and began to pull supplies from its shelves.

"Are you learning herbcraft and alchemy?" Fritz inquired.

"Yes, I'm being made to study all sorts of medical knowledge. It's said to help with healing, or learning healing Techniques," she said. "Come, lie down on the dining table."

She led him to another room, quaint and warm and he lay on the long table. Jane then got to work cleaning his cuts and wiping away the blood. After that, she laid her hands on his wound. Pale green thread swiftly slipped between the rent, then pulled the flesh tight before the skin knitted together in a raw-pink scar.

His other cuts weren't treated nearly as magically, though he didn't expect them to be, and were left to heal normally. Then Toby took Fritz's place on the table and received similar ministrations, though she tended to him in a far more gentle and loving manner.

Feeling as though he were intruding, Fritz left them with a word of thanks and began his trek home.

When he arrived before his small gate, he found the streets calm and the houses standing unmolested. Any worry that his team may have been caught in the Spire Break dissipated in a second. With a yawn he made his way inside and collapsed into bed, groaning at the thought of morning training only hours away.

Still, he had some questions for his tutor and tomorrow he'd have answers.

Fitfully, he slept.

---

When Fritz awoke, he ached. The pain was dull, not the agony of the previous days and his weariness was similarly less pronounced. Perhaps it was the conditioning of the regimen finally setting in, or maybe it was the Blood Serum he'd imbibed that lent him that vigour. Either way, he felt far better than he supposed he had any right to.

He attended breakfast and the talk of the table was the excited speculation about the Spire Break the night previous. Bert bemoaned that he had missed it, he had a fight that although he won, wasn't as 'fun' as fighting some monsters.

"Fritz!" Bert shouted. "Did you see any of the beasts last night?"

"I did, killed two of them as well," Fritz boasted.

"Lucky bastard!" Bert cried.

"What were they like?" Rosie asked through a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

"They were terrible creatures. Great toad-man-alikes wielding spears of bone and magics of ice, and they were a head taller than even my great stature," Fritz espoused.

"Truly?" Bert asked.

"As sure as my Lordship," Fritz said.

"And just how sure is that?" Lauren asked, interrupting any complaining from Bert. "Any closer to being recognised as head of your house?"

"Not quite, still need another two witnesses," Fritz said. "However, I was able to register our alchemist agreement. And while doing so I obtained us a scribe to teach reading and writing."

"Is that so?" Lauren asked.

"Yes, a lovely young woman by the name of Jessica Redoubt," Fritz explained.

"Is she an official scribe?" Lauren asked with keen interest.

"Not quite. She failed her exam and seemed to be in a tight spot. So I offered her some work," Fritz said.

"She failed?" Lauren repeated with some definite misgivings.

"She's a good teacher, helped me refine my own literacy when I was young," Fritz vouched.

"So it's another woman that you 'just know'?" Lauren asked sceptically.

"Yes. Do you take issue with that?" Fritz replied blandly.

"You know a lot of women, Fritz," George observed.

"What can I say? I'm charming," Fritz professed.

"No, you're just pretty," Rosie objected.

"Just pretty?" Bert said, offended for his brother. "He's the second most handsome man in the city."

"Second-most!?" Fritz challenged. "After you I presume?"

"You presume correctly," Bert stated.

"I dispute your claim!" Fritz declared. "Not only am I the foremost amongst the handsome. The gulf between me and the next man is like that of the span between the sea and the sky."

Bert's objections were drowned out by a knocking at the front door. It was the heavy thud that always preceded their tutor. Cassandra rushed to answer it.

In a moment, Adam swept into the dining room with a damp sack over one shoulder.

"Shouldn't you all be running," he stated in lieu of greeting.

"No, you're just early," Cal provided.

"The taverns must have closed due to the Spire Break," Lauren theorised. "Being cut off early must have mixed up your sense of time."

Adam frowned. "That's a lot of disrespect you're showing your tutor."

"I'll respect you when you're respectable," Lauren replied.

"Oh, is that so?" Adam said, stroking his beard, his eye glittering with mischief. "And if this tutor had managed to find a fire mage willing to train a belligerently self-assured young woman. Would he then be respectable?"

"He would be, very much so. Sir," Lauren said politely. "Have you discovered as much, Sir?"

"Perhaps," Adam said.

'What's in the sack?" Rosie asked. "It stinks."

"Monster meat," Adam said. "I have a contact in the Scale Guard, taught him a thing or two about swords. He was gracious enough to give me some of the Spire Break's haul early and on the cheap. It's frog or toad, so it should be delicious if you cook it in some butter."

Adam handed the stuffed sack to Cal, who hesitated while holding its squelching weight.

"What's wrong? Why are you all going green on me?" Adam asked, staring around at the paling faces.

"Fritz saw them, said they were man-alikes," Cal hedged.

"Don't think about that. Man-alikes are monsters, not men. And meat is meat," Adam proclaimed. "You'll have to learn to eat even worse than this if you want to Climb the tallest Spires. Those Climbs can last for months or years, and you have to survive on whatever you can scrounge up. Believe me, these man-alikes are imminently more appetising than some of the stuff I've forced down my throat."

"If you say so, Sir," Cal said.

"I do," Adam said. "And there's an easy way to tell man from man-alike, and that's mana. A dead human or Strain will not have any."

"And how do we check that? Just in case," Cal asked.

"We can use my Mana Sight," Lauren offered.

"Exactly right, and once you're done storing that away..." Adam trailed off. "Get to running! Post haste!"

They gave their tutor a chorus of 'Yes, sir's, finished what remained of their breakfast and shuffled into the yard. Then they ran, stretched and lifted their weights, all while Adam yelled, correcting their faults and failures.

"Not good enough! You call that a push-up!? Indolent wench! Good for nothing noble!" On and on, he pressured them to do better. And when they were done, at least three minutes faster than they had done the days previous, Adam took them each aside to lecture them on something specific or answer any questions they might have.

Soon it was Fritz's turn, and after the night he had, he had many such inquiries. And Adam, well, he had some answers to provide.

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