Fritz awoke, it was a pleasant enough way to wake. It had been two weeks since his duels and his near-death. Most, if not all, of his weakness and fogginess had faded.

He rose from his bed, dressed then made his way down to the dining room.

The dawn had yet to come, but like Fritz, the others of his team were also heading down the stairs with varying degrees of haste and wakefulness. Bert bounded, Rosie dragged her feet, George walked carefully, Lauren stepped lightly, and Jess trudged. Cal was already toiling in the kitchen with the agreeable assistance of Cassandra.

The procession to breakfast had become routine at this point, and there was a comfort in that. Fritz smiled, though it was strained due to his lingering aches.

Soon, there would be a change. One for the better, he hoped. It had to do with their relocation, moving into his family's estate if it could house them all comfortably. He had little doubt it would, but he hadn't broached the subject yet, not until he was sure that the manor was truly his.

That would come later. Although the affairs of his inheritance were moving smoothly, they were also moving slowly, as legal matters are wont to do. Mr. Worth had informed Fritz earlier that the Count who held his manor was amenable to the swift restoration of the estate's ownership to him. Or rather, to House Hightide.

This was both welcome and worrisome news.

It was welcome not only because he and his team wouldn't have to continue to pay rent, but because he didn't desire to continue living in one of Duchess Blackbrine's houses.

It was bad enough to be watched by the Nightshark and her birds and beasts, to have another powerful woman, who was rumoured to be the King's spymaster, be his landlord was not a situation he wanted to extend any longer than he had to. Already he had searched the premises high and low, looking under rugs, furniture and behind curtains for anything out of place, then when that proved to be in vain, he instead paid close attention to the wards on the windows and doors.

Fritz had thankfully found nothing unusual in those glyphs and grammars.

He thought that, perhaps, he hadn't caught her attention until recently, and therefore she hadn't cared to place anything with which to eavesdrop. His Awareness, of course, disagreed, insisting in low hisses that he was missing something, but no matter how hard he looked, he was not able to see or feel anything amiss with the runes, or anything else for that matter.

Though he wanted to be out of the Climber house as soon as may be, he also couldn't help but worry. It wasn't for the furnishing or repairs that would have to be orchestrated and financed, but for the emotional turmoil a return to his childhood home would entail. He knew himself well enough to know that the endeavour would be fraught with pain. But it had to be done. There was no use running from that bloody past, and to let the manor rot would be worse than a waste.

The team ate with the usual pre-training banter and chatter. Lauren was especially animated that morning. Sir Needle had finally brokered an agreement with a foreign fire-aligned climber willing to teach her a few things, and her first lessons would be today.

She wasn't the only one with a private instructor. Sir Needle had been searching for and vetting foreign Climbers to teach those of them that had rare alignments the more esoteric skills that they would need to properly harness their powers.

Their tutor had found quite an assortment of distinct and dabbling individuals. They were all of differing calling and quality, but they each suffered from a clear lack of coin and a certain lack of scruples about sharing the secrets of their respective specialities. Amongst these Climbers was the acrobatic Striker that had taught Bert much of his tumbling, a sturdy Hauler from one of the stone spires that answered some questions Cal had about his Personal Pack, and various weapon experts to help with a few of the finer points of their chosen armaments.

There were also less exotic folk, like one of the drizzler's drill sergeants, a man Sir Needle trusted, to run Rosie through the basics of Durability or the water mage who helped Lauren with her Intensity. Every other day, it seemed that they had the services of some Climber willing to impart some wisdom for some gold.

Fritz had complained about this constant cavalcade, and expense they extracted, but Adam had rebuked him, saying that it was "Good to learn what you can from the experiences of others before facing them yourselves."

Fritz couldn't argue against that, or rather, he wouldn't. Not in front of his tutor, that is.

Dawn came, and the team finished eating and left for training.

Fritz tried his best to keep up. He did rather well considering his state only a week previous. He wasn't quite at the peak he had been before the duel, but he knew he would soon reach it again, then surpass it. That was his main goal at the moment, that and learning all he could of runes.

Though Fritz had ostensibly been ordered to bed rest and limited to light exercise, that hadn't stopped him from sneaking down to the drowned district to visit both Sylvia in the Refuge and Wardbreaker's Den for a bit of study; he'd seen Toby there occasionally and Craig once.

The cruel cutthroat had looked decidedly dishevelled, like he hadn't been sleeping particularly well. He had complaints of a rash and an aching weariness, and made some disparaging comments about the women he'd been 'meeting', blaming them for his malady.

It was the poison of the bittersteel at work, Fritz knew, and he was somewhat surprised the evil bastard hadn't caught on yet. He prayed Craig never would, but if he did, then that he should be too ill to take vengeance.

Fritz and his team arrived at the training hall and immediately fell into their regimens. All went well, and even Adam had to admit they were improving.

"Starting to look like a proper team of Climbers." He smiled. "A bit rough around the edges, but after another week or two, I would let you attempt to Climb the Mer Spire."

"We've already done that," Rosie panted.

"Unprepared and premature, you're lucky you came out with your lives, let alone your Awards," Adam declared. "You need to be far tougher, you need to be able to Climb with as little risk as possible."

They groaned their disagreements, but that only had Sir Needle smiling wider. "Since you're so confident, I suppose you all need more challenge. Tomorrow, come with your packs and weapons. We'll be doing only full kit training from now on."

They groaned further, but he just shouted them down jovially and ordered them to get back to training.

After half an hour, Lauren's Essence of Fire instructor entered the hall. He was a middle-aged, dark skinned man of average height and slim build. His smooth, black hair was woven in a braid that fell to the small of his back. He strode with a patient, purposeful gait, and was draped in white robes trimmed with red. Over one shoulder, he carried a staff as tall as himself, made of steel that was polished to a mirror sheen. He greeted Sir Needle with a bow and a prayer.

The bow was returned while the prayer was not.

"This is Brother Koral," Adam announced. "A temple warrior who follows the way of Ardent Ember."

The man smiled a genial smile. "Well met. Who is to be my student?"

"That would be Ms. Nearshore," Adam said. "One of the, almost unprecedented, Rain City fire mages."

The man nodded sagely. "One such of those exalted fellows is known to my order. They spent some months with us many years ago. It is always surprising when fire sparks in a city so aligned to water, but when it does, it is often potent."

"You'll find if Ms. Nearshore is anything then it's potent," Adam agreed.

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Lauren smiled pointedly and politely.

"Come, let us get acquainted," Koral said. "Then we can see if the Techniques of my order can help you."

She nodded. "Of course, I look forward to it...Sir?"

The man shook his head. "Brother Koral is my name. It is proper that you use it."

"Very well, Brother Koral," Lauren said. "Shall we?"

He smiled, then the two left to talk in a corner of the hall. Their conversation seemed to go well, judging from her unforced laugh and his endeared chuckle. It was a surprising sight, as she usually had little patience for men, but there she was, chatting away, peppering the man with question after question about his travels. He answered modestly, though he obviously enjoyed spinning a small tale here and there.

Fritz ceased his eavesdropping, as interesting as the anecdotes were, he had to focus on his training.

Fifteen minutes later he stopped abruptly.

For one terrifying moment, his heart trembled, and he had to stop while he was swinging his awkwardly weighted training blade. The spasms settled after some seconds and he let out a sigh. It was an echo of the poison that had left him bedridden. Whatever the substance the healer had slipped him had harmed his heart, straining it beyond its limit.

He had been assured it would get better, that if he took the recommended remedies, any lasting effects would fade within the month. It had only been two weeks so far, so he still had to suffer for another gruelling and galling nine days if Ame's advice was sound.

"That's enough for today," Adam said, having appeared at Fritz's side. He could be horribly quiet for a man built as large as he was.

"I can go on," Fritz protested.

"No, it's best that you don't strain yourself," Adam said. "And an injury will simply set you back further. You know that."

Fritz sighed. He did know that, he just didn't want to waste more of his limited time. Even if he wasn't as stretched as he had been the previous months, he had an impression of an impending disaster.

Oddly, he wasn't the only one. Rosie fidgeted, scratched at her scales and looked eastward, towards the Rain Spire with eyes glossy with uncertain fear.

Fritz wanted to ask her what she thought was wrong, though he supposed that she would simply shrug his question off. Still, it was worth the small effort, especially if he was disallowed from further training.

"Rosie, are you well?" he asked.

"Huh?" she replied, broken from her daze. "I'm fine."

"You appeared afraid. Did you sense something?" Fritz continued.

"I don't know," she hedged, shrugging. "Just a bad feeling."

Fritz nodded seriously.

Adam frowned, then rubbed his short, unkempt beard. "Have you heard from the Guides Guild yet?" he asked.

Fritz winced. He had indeed received a missive that complemented his performance and skill in the duelling arena, and invited him to visit the Guild's main outpost there in the city. The letter had been swiftly burned.

"I see that they have," Adam said.

"Are you going to advise me to take them up on their offer?"

"You know I will," Adam said. "They can train you properly in the use of Awareness. Your stubbornness does you no good."

"I won't join them," Fritz stated, his tone clipped. "I can't be their lackey, I can't leave my team, nor forgive what those Guide bastards took from me."

Adam sighed. "You're right, of course. I would do the same in your shoes."

"Let's not dwell on such matters," Fritz said.

"As you say, Lord," Adam agreed with a wan smile, before turning to counsel Cal in the proper use of a throwing hammer.

Fritz found his way to the wall and sat with his back to it, waiting for his team to finish their regimens. He took a keen interest in watching Lauren with her new mentor. Unfortunately, he wasn't currently teaching her anything about fire magic. Instead, the man was instructing her on how to wield her staff in sweeping, spinning circular motions.

It was quite an extravagant style, full of whirling flourishes and swift spiralling strikes. It looked rather impressive, but Fritz wondered just how useful it would be when fighting beasts. Then again, Brother Koral was obviously experienced and definitely deadly, so he decided not to second-guess the choice of Technique, as it so obviously was.

Fritz idly wondered what it was called. The spinning stick?

Training eventually finished, and with all the customary grumbles, Fritz and his team made their way home to shower or bathe as they saw fit. Then it was to be another breakfast, they needed all the food they could get. After that they went about their respective tasks or simply relaxed.

And so the day passed, mostly uneventfully. Then the next was concluded just as peacefully. Fritz found the routine reassuring, but chafed at it all the same. He craved excitement and the unknown, and these safe, boring weeks had lulled him into an abiding agitation.

On fifthsday at around noon, Fritz received a document, a deed and another decree from a messenger. Each was sealed and signed by Count Wavereach, Duke Whiteship and King Rain, respectively.

The name of Whiteship brought with it a recollection. He had taken that House's heirloom sword, and still had no idea what to do with it. He had considered taking the blade up himself, adding it to his fighting style, but when he wielded the sabre, he felt no love for the way it sliced through the air, nor how it chopped like a cleaver. Still, it had some potent ice-aligned Imbuements, so he set it in the vault until he decided what to do with it.

Fritz returned his thoughts to the present, to the three pieces of thick parchment in his hands. Written on those pages was the reinstatement of his rights, properties and land. He'd recovered more than he suspected he would; there wasn't just the patch of the drowned district that had become the Refuge, but other unprosperous parcels scattered all across the districts. Though he recognised most of the names and numbers, and the buildings they represented, there were some that he simply hadn't heard of before.

There was also a small sum of gold, still held within the walls of the manor's vault.

Fritz decided that once he'd established his estate and reclaimed his manor, he would go about investigating all these places. For now, he had his team to address.

He strode to the hall and rang the meeting bell, causing a clamour that had his team peering over the banisters.

"Gather in the lounge team, I have a proposal!" Fritz announced. "You too, Cassandra!"

The maid nearly jumped at being called by name, but quickly nodded.

Soon, everyone was sitting or standing in the lounge.

Fritz stood in front of the fireplace, his back to his team, silhouetted in the orange light.

"Hark, trusty Climbers, for I have an offer for you," Fritz intoned regally.

"I thought it was a proposal," Bert said. "I can't say I approve of marriage at such a young age."

"If that's what you want, I'll marry you, Fritz," Rosie offered.

"Rosie!?" Bert cried, pretending to swoon, his wrist to his forehead. "How could you!?"

Rosie grinned and shrugged. "He's a noble, it was part of the plan all along, wasn't it?"

"Could you both be quiet?" Cal demanded, his exasperation plain.

"Quite. I'd like to hear for what the Lord Hightide has summoned us," Jess said with only a hint of disgruntlement.

Fritz cleared his throat with a cough, then continued his speech, "While it is not the kind of proposal that weds, it is one that can bind. I speak, of course, about my manor."

"What of it?" Lauren asked.

"Well, now that I have reclaimed it. It could serve as our residence," Fritz explained.

"Our?" Cal asked.

"Yes, the team," Fritz elaborated. "The place should be large enough for all of us and my siblings. And it could serve as a more permanent home for those of us who have none to return to."

"What about Cass?" Cal asked.

"She has served diligently and shall be allowed to continue her employment with us," Fritz said magnanimously.

George furrowed his brow. "Where is your estate located? The Palace Ring?"

"Yes, just on the outskirts, though, nothing too deep," Fritz said.

"Won't that affect our training?" George asked.

"Possibly," Fritz hedged.

His team fell into serious contemplation, save Bert, who would follow Fritz anywhere. Cassandra also seemed to have come to a decision swiftly, choosing to go where her Lord willed. He had hoped that his team would all jump to live in a more opulent part of the city, but it seemed that they had much more pragmatic concerns.

"How big is the kitchen?" Cal asked.

"Is there a large yard to train in?" George questioned.

"Does it have a bath?" Lauren inquired.

"How soft are the beds?" Rosie asked.

"Will it have a proper study?" Jess queried.

Though Fritz had clear memories of how the manor had been, he had no answers for how it was in its current state. He hesitated, then said, "I don't rightly know. It has been some time since I have last seen it."

"There's only one way to remedy that," Bert said. "Let's go have a look."

"Quite right!" Fritz declared. "Will you all join me?"

There was a chorus of agreement, but one voice dissented.

"Cal?" Fritz asked. "Why do you not want to join?"

"I do, but we have to have lunch first," Cal stated.

"True as the rain," Fritz agreed. "The manor can wait for now."

With that, they broke for lunch. It was a pleasant affair, the talk mostly having to do with what they imagined Fritz's estate to contain. Their speculation varied wildly, from the claim of outlandish decadence like statues and lamps made of gold, to the relatively mundane, such as stone-topped counters in the kitchen.

Fritz attempted to temper their expectations, reminding them his family were never in particularly high esteem, nor were they as exorbitantly wealthy when compared to the other nobility.

"In any case, much of what was valuable was likely taken away and sold off," Fritz said, feeling his mood already begin to darken as he pictured the barren state his home would be in. "Who knows what's left?"

"Oh," Rosie said, with some disappointment.

"That just means there's more to shop for," Bert said eagerly.

Fritz gave a strained smile and wondered just how much gold he would have to sink into his estate. He hadn't truly considered the magnitude of the maintenance, nor the price of the restoration or refurbishing. It would surely be an enormous sum. Fortunately, he had a surplus of gold and Treasures at the moment. More than enough to suit his needs.

If he wanted to spend modestly, he could quite possibly never run out. The thought alarmed him, and he considered, again, the desperate district. Here he was with a veritable hoard of gold, and he was planning on using it all for himself.

Even if he told himself that the districts were not his responsibility, and that he had earned his windfall with blood, it made him ill with guilt. It also wasn't strictly true that he had no duty to them. The lands of House Hightide was now his, and he did bear some obligation to improve the lives of those who lived on it. It was just right. Or so he believed.

"Cheer up, Fritz," Bert said. "It won't be as bad as you're thinking."

Fritz nodded, then put down his fork, unable to eat another bite. He pushed away his plate and stood.

Then he made ready to return to his old home.

Prepared or not, he had to see it again. He had to face both the future and the past.

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