The dirt road wound endlessly through the hills, the horizon shimmering under the sun. For three days, Arlo and Tessa had been trudging toward Dragon's Peak, and if the mountain looked far away when they started, it now looked infinitely farther.
Arlo dragged his boots in the dust, groaning.
"This is torture. Actual torture. My feet have gone beyond sore—they've ascended into a new dimension of pain. My toes are filing formal complaints."
Tessa, riding comfortably on a white mare she had acquired from a passing merchant caravan, barely glanced at him.
"Do stop whining. We've only been traveling three days."
"Only three days?!" Arlo flung his arms. "My legs are already spaghetti, my stomach is a hollow drum, and my soul is whispering to just lie down in the road and let the vultures have me."
Tessa smirked.
"Well, do be considerate if you die—at least leave your corpse where it won't stink up camp."
Arlo glared at her, then at her horse.
"Why do you get a horse?"
"Because I'm a lady, and a beautiful one at that," Tessa said sweetly. "And you're... my assistant."
Arlo's face twisted. "Beautiful, I'll give you that, but you're as far as being a lady as me being the King of this world! And you're the reason we're up to our eyeballs in debt."
"Correction," she countered, brushing golden hair off her shoulder. "You're the reason. If you hadn't—how shall I put this—detonated half the Duke's estate, we wouldn't be in this position."
Arlo jabbed a finger at her.
"You put me in the spotlight, and called me your apprentice! I was implicated by association! That's fraud!"
Tessa tilted her chin proudly.
"That's leadership."
Arlo groaned into his hands.
"I swear, one day you're going to choke on your own arrogance, and I'm not giving you the Heimlich."
Hours passed, and the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in shades of orange. The dusty road shifted into a forest path, the shade offering cool relief. Birds chirped, insects hummed, and for once, Arlo's whining gave way to silence.
It was Tessa who broke it first, her tone light but sly.
"Speaking of... your skill."
Arlo stiffened. "...What about it?"
"You've been dodging the subject for days." She twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. "I can't have a clueless apprentice. So, tell me: what exactly does your divine gift do?"
Arlo kicked a rock down the path, buying time.
"It's... complicated."
"Everything with you is complicated," she said flatly. "Explain it in small words, so you won't fry your brains out."
Arlo shot her a glare. "Oh, thanks. Great encouragement. Fine, my skill is called Herald of Disaster and Fortune, every decision I make... changes fate. Like pulling invisible strings. Small choices, small ripples. Big choices... big waves. Sometimes it turns out ridiculously good. Sometimes it's a disaster. I can feel when a decision carries weight, but I never know if it'll end in treasure... or catastrophe."
Tessa blinked once, twice, then burst into laughter.
"Such a cool and dangerous sounding name, but to summarize: you have a gambling addiction skill. You flip the world's coin and pray for heads."
"Hey!" Arlo snapped. "It's more sophisticated than that!"
"Is it though?" she teased, eyes glinting. "No wonder Deos dumped you into my lap. You're basically a slot machine in human form."
Arlo groaned. "You're impossible."
"And you," Tessa said smugly, "are entertainment."
Silence stretched between them again until Arlo asked, "So... does everyone get skills like this?"
"Of course," Tessa replied. "Every living being—humans, animals, even monsters. All of them are born with a skill. Though most are... disappointing."
Arlo raised a brow. "Disappointing how?"
"Oh, things like 'Never Get Cavities' or 'Shoes Won't Untie Themselves.' Useless little quirks more than anything else." She smirked. "I once met a man whose skill gave him slightly thicker hair than everyone else. He was very proud of it."
Arlo groaned. "So some people get miracle healing, and others get... dandruff resistance?"
"Precisely," Tessa said, clearly amused. "And most people never even understand their skill's full scope unless they use one of the Fountains Deos scattered across the land."
"Fountains?" Arlo echoed.
"Yes. Sacred Fountains. Step inside one, and it reveals the true nature of your skill. Entire towns were built around them. The one back in our town? That's why it even exists. Without the Fountain, it would just be a patch of farmland."
"Huh," Arlo muttered. "So my fate-flip coin thing... that's rare?"
"Extremely," Tessa admitted. "Skills like mine, or yours, that actually change the course of lives... they don't come around often. Monsters have their share of dangerous ones too. Wolves with Blood-Scent. Basilisks with Death Glare. Even a rat may carry 'Find Crumbs Easily.'"
Arlo pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Wonderful. Even vermin are running on cheat codes."
Tessa chuckled softly, clearly enjoying his misery.
By the time the sun sank below the trees, the two had found a clearing to camp. Arlo set up a small fire, gnawing on stale bread, while Tessa sipped water with all the elegance of a noblewoman. For a rare moment, things were peaceful.
Then came the sound.
Rustling. Behind the bushes.
The bushes across from their firelight stirred. Not the hurried shuffle of rabbits. Not the clumsy stumbling of deer. Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.
Arlo froze mid-bite, his hand already reaching for the rusty sword strapped awkwardly to his hip. He stood, blade raised, eyes locked on the shadows.
"Tell me that's a fat squirrel."
Beside him, Tessa slipped a slim dagger from her robes, the polished steel gleaming in the firelight. She held it with surprising confidence, though her chin was lifted with her usual arrogance.
Arlo blinked. "Wait—can you fight?"
"Of course." She tightened her grip, her golden hair catching the light. "I'm not completely helpless. When you don't have other talents besides healing, you learn to fight. It's a matter of survival."
Arlo squinted at her, unconvinced. "So you've actually fought before?"
Tessa smirked proudly. "Plenty of times. Bandits, beasts, drunks at the church door... I can handle myself."
Arlo tightened his grip on the sword, sweat prickling his palms.
"Great. She's confident. Overconfident. Fantastic. Meanwhile, I've got a gambling-coin skill that may or may not decide tonight's bedtime story ends with my obituary. Maybe I can just... rely on it. Maybe."
The bushes rattled again, louder this time. The fire popped, sending sparks upward.
And then, silence.
Both Arlo and Tessa stood poised, blades drawn, breath held, waiting for whatever fate had decided to throw at them next.