Hans answered a knock at the door of his Forgeborne apartment and invited Honronk inside.

  “It must be weird for you to step inside here after it being yours for so long,” Hans said as he offered the Iron Black Mage a seat.

  “It’s not.”

  “Do you ever miss living up here?”

  “No.”

  “Okay then. What’s on your mind?”

  “There are three things.”

  “Start wherever you like,” Hans suggested.

  “People are asking me about riding griffons. I don’t know what to tell them.”

  “You don’t have to give every kid a ride. You know that.”

  Honronk shook his head. “Not children. Uncle Ed asked about delivery riders. Terry asked about guards. And several people want to work near and with them. Chisel compared it to how people like working with horses.”

  Hans was vaguely aware of most of those interests, though he was unaware that they were serious enough to warrant approaching Honronk about them. In all cases, he could see both the utility and the attraction. Two griffons recently saved the people on the surface from an undead titan. The adventurers might have been able to manage it otherwise, but the loss of life would have certainly been far greater than it was.

  Delivering mail was less exciting than combat, but faster communication could give Gomi a more active voice in the kingdom as a whole. As it was now, Gomi was the last to hear any news, and the delay between sending a letter to a place like the Capital and eventually receiving a response was months at best.

  “You’re a generous person,” Hans said. “Your work has helped Gomi in a dozen different ways, and trust me, everyone is grateful. For the tattoos, for the armorbacks, for fresh eggs. You’ve done a lot, but that doesn’t mean you have to do everything.”

  “I know.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to help Gomi.”

  “I know. I also just told you how I think you should be a bit more selfish and not leave your own life behind. You’ve helped a lot here, but you’ve sacrificed a lot of yourself to do it.”

  “I disagree,” Honronk replied.

  Hans leaned back in his desk chair. This conversation needed a different approach. That much was obvious, and this was only the first item on Honronk’s list.

  “Griffon riders could help in a lot of ways,” Hans said, carefully. “If you believe it’s possible to safely train those riders, I’m in favor of giving griffons to Gomi as long as your own progress doesn’t suffer. Between taming, enchanting, and adventuring, you’re already doing too much, and Gomi benefits the most if you keep growing as a Mage.”

  “I understand. The second thing is that I would like to breed mimics.”

  Oh gods. Hans felt a new chest pain growing already. “Honronk…”

  “I know your position, and I understand your position,” Honronk said. “My mimic in the Tainted Caves is too large to leave that section, and I believe smaller mimics would offer a great deal of utility to Gomi.”

  “And danger.”

  “Yes, and danger.”

  “So you understand why I am against this.”

  Honronk nodded. “My third item is that Chisel and I would like to travel for a few weeks. I believe mimics would ensure her safety.”

  Excellent. A headache joined Hans’ chest pain.

  “Explain that to me,” Hans requested.

  “We would travel by griffon,” Honronk said. “Our imps could accompany us, but cave crawlers and armorbacks could not.”

  “I can see why that’s a concern. How do mimics fix that problem?”

  “I can command my mimic in the Tainted Caves to change forms. I believe if we had smaller mimics, they could accompany us in secret.”

  “Like a mimic backpack or something like that?”

  “Yes.”

  Fucking Honronk.

  That was a brilliant idea. Just as no one would expect a cave crawler to emerge from the ground to break their legs, no one would expect a tusk’s bedroll to suddenly come to life and bite off their arm. If someone tried to give Chisel the Osare treatment and her boring messenger bag was actually a mimic… There would be so much blood, and Chisel would very much survive. Between the mimic and her own chops as an adventurer, six untrained men would struggle to best her.

  “Owning and breeding mimics is illegal,” Hans said.

  “That has not mattered before.”

  Hans spoke firmly. “It has always mattered. We’ve rationalized our way through accepting the risks of our other projects, but that doesn’t mean the risks don’t matter. Blood magic is still illegal. Owning, breeding, and knowingly transporting mimics is still illegal. I agree that, tactically, a mimic could be a great source of protection, but the moment you have to use it, you’re a known criminal.”

  “Could we not invent another explanation?”

  “Yes, we could, but we’re already juggling several lies that are difficult to believe in their own right. I fully agree that using the cave crawler against Aaron was the right move. You had no choice. But as soon as it popped out of the ground, everyone knew there was yet another unusual thing going on in Gomi. I fielded all sorts of questions about how convincing a cave crawler to be a familiar was even possible. Flying into town on a griffon is going to make that ten times worse without you also transporting mimics into a populated area.”

  “Chisel and I would each have our own griffon.”

  “What?”

  “There would be two griffons. Not one.”

  “Whatever,” Hans said. “You’re right to want to protect yourselves, and it’s bullshit that we have to have this conversation because we know it would be different if you weren’t tusks. The more attention you attract, the more likely some hick is to take a crack at messing with you. There aren’t many tusks left, so you stick out no matter what. Arrive on a griffon? Everyone in town will hear about you within an hour.”

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  “And you believe that would make us more likely to have to use mimics for protection.”

  “Exactly.”

  Honronk wrinkled his face. “I understand your logic. I do not believe it negates their value altogether.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Traveling with a mimic may create more problems than it solves, but they still have a lot to offer Gomi.”

  “Such as?”

  “We rely on Dunfoo’s doors to protect our people from monsters, but his doors do not fight back. The tunnel the dwarves are finishing is designed to repel a siege. Instead of murder holes, a mimic could emerge from the walls.”

  A wall mimic was a horrifying thought, as was a door mimic. The Mage wasn’t wrong about the potential utility, however. Running the pit in the Tainted Caves was a pain in the ass because the run started at the bottom. A mimic door could eat all of the torcs who inevitably tried to break into Leebel’s Rest without ever involving adventurers. The same could be possible with gazers.

  Or would gazers be able to detect a mimic with Truesight? Would they think to check? Or was Truesight possibly always active for gazers?

  Stop it.

  He needed to hold his ground on mimics. They were too dangerous.

  “Again, I don’t disagree that they could be useful, but nothing is completely foolproof. If we breed mimics, it is inevitable that one gets loose someday. No matter how careful we are, people make mistakes, and people get greedy.”

  Honronk stared at Hans, blankly. “I am capable of solving that problem.”

  “This has nothing to do with whether you’re capable or not.”

  “If I create a plan that addresses your concerns, would you think about it?”

  “Listen,” Hans began, “I will always hear you out. No matter what. You’ve always given me the courtesy of weighing in on these things before you start something, and I very much appreciate that respect. If you have ideas to share, I’ll listen. That’s true in this case as well, but my concerns might not change.”

  “I understand.”

  “Maybe we’ll see some bigger guys in the spring,” Hans said as Buru sat down against the wall of the training room.

  Class was over, and adventurers used the training room for their individual projects. Some sparred. Others drilled. And many were like Hans and Buru, winding down from a hard session. Unlike Hans, Buru rarely had a sparring partner his size or weight.

  “It’s okay. I get my work.”

  “What, bear-wrestling or something?”

  The large tusk held a straight face.

  “You’re messing with me,” Hans said, only partially confident in his assertion.

  “Yeah, I am.”

  The pair laughed.

  “I’m staying close to Gomi, by the way,” Buru said between gulps of water. “I’d leave to run a job but would be back right after.”

  “Yeah, I figured you’d stay to serve the forest for a bit yet. I understand that you plan to strike out eventually, though.”

  “I don’t know about that anymore.”

  “Everything okay?”

  Buru shrugged. “I don’t agree with the Lady’s behavior. I am loyal to this forest and still love it, but I’m liking the idea of service less and less.”

  “You don’t need to trash anything with her because of me. I’m fine.”

  “I know. I’m sure about this. Petal too.”

  “You guys talk about that kind of thing?”

  “Of course. We are partners.”

  “Fair. I just don’t want to come in the way of your progress.”

  “Becky said you didn’t trust anything not in the alliance, and I didn’t get-”

  “She said what?” Hans asked, confused.

  “If it’s not a human, dwarf, tusk, halfling, or lizardman, you don’t trust it.”

  “That’s…” Hans chuckled to himself. “Okay, that’s accurate.”

  Buru continued. “I didn’t get it before. Now I do. I don’t want anyone making my decisions for me but me. The Lady of the Forest will never understand what it’s like to be a mortal tusk.”

  “Can a Druid walk away from a dryad like that?”

  “I can do whatever I want.”

  Hans laughed. “What does that mean for your goals?”

  “They are the same. I will serve nature directly.”

  “Anything I can do?”

  “Yes,” Buru said. “I would like to take the lake job for Roland and Uncle Ed.”

  Hans needed a moment to catch up. Roland and Uncle Ed approached Hans about posting an unusual job earlier in the winter. They wanted to hire adventurers to retrieve the plants and critters they needed to bring the lake in the dungeon to life. Currently, nothing lived or grew in the underground body of water. By changing that, they could add fresh fish to Gomi’s food supply.

  They hadn’t posted the job yet. Now that he thought about it, Hans didn’t remember the last time anyone mentioned that project. A connection clicked into place in Hans’ mind.

  “Ahh. Olza told me you were asking about fish and plants. That was more than curiosity then.”

  “I’d like to do it. Luther’s been teaching me a lot about growing stuff too.”

  “Sounds like you have a plan.”

  Buru nodded. “I’m working on it. Fish are like squirrels, so first, our lake needs acorns.”

  That didn’t sound right to Hans, but he didn’t know enough about fish or squirrels to argue. “Where does something like that start?”

  “Acorns.”

  “Right. What’s the lake equivalent of acorns?”

  “Umm… still acorns? Bronzewoods go first. Then plants and small creatures that are too small for our eyes to see. Olza said you needed a microscope.”

  Bronzewoods. Of course. Those would boost the growth speed of any plants nearby. Would a bronzewood grow underwater? Buru seemed to think they would, and Hans didn’t know more about trees than a Druid.

  “So grab that stuff from a stream and drop it in the water?”

  Buru chuckled. “I would like to visit a real lake. I’ve seen one before but never as a Druid. I’d like to learn from that first. If I do this poorly, the fish will suffer because of me. That’s not fair.”

  “Ah, that makes sense.”

  “The Lady says only dryads can grow forests. She didn’t grow the zouts, though. She didn’t grow the acorns. We did.”

  Hans was proud of Buru for thinking more about his own agency. He was also worried for the tusk.

  “I’m not disagreeing with you, but be careful talking like that. Learn from my mistakes and don’t pick that fight. Not with the Lady, and not with any other types like her. They’re still stronger than we are, and they will prove it if you give them reason to.”

  Next, Buru did something very un-Buru-like. He grinned. “The dungeon says we’re all descendants of the Wargod, right?”

  “That’s not how I’d phrase it.”

  “Petal killed Master Devontes. She is strong. If part of me is Wargod, we’ll be fine.”

  To Buru, Hans looked calm and attentive. In Hans’ mind, however, he was anything but. The cavalier discussion of something so evil was unsettling. Buru’s sentiment sounded like it neared admiration.

  “I have no love for my father,” Buru added.

  Okay. Maybe not.

  “I’ll never forgive him for what he did to my mum. She was a nice woman. A good woman. But I’m not too proud to use the gifts he gave me.”

  Hans thought for a long time about how to reply, but no combination of words seemed to fit. So, he stayed quiet.

  “Are you disappointed?” Buru asked.

  “Why would I be disappointed?”

  “You always say to talk carefully about things like Wargod.”

  “I do,” Hans replied. “This is different. Yeah, speak carefully about, around, or to anything that can kill you if it wants, but I also believe that a son has a right to tell his shit dad to eat dicks.”

  Open Quests (Ordered from Old to New):

  Monitor for independently grown sections of dungeon.

  Complete the next volume (Bronze to Silver) for “The Next Generation: A Teaching Methodology for Training Adventurers.”

  Establish a Hoseki-grade library in Gomi.

  Prepare the first collection of job debriefs for publication.

  Learn to help your advanced students as much as you help beginners.

  Adapt.

  Enjoy it.

  Prepare the Association for spring.