It had been two weeks since Aiken had become a rogue. More importantly, two weeks since he had been hungry. Ever since he had become a rogue, he had gotten far better in combat. Whether it was the job advancement itself, or the intense devotion to training, he did not know, but all he needed to know was that as long as he kept it up, he would never have to go back to living in poverty. Through rigorous practice, he got faster, stronger, and more disciplined. He would devote hours to repeating a series of all the basic formations and perfecting strings of attacks.

‘That son of a…’ Aiken muttered through his teeth as he sank his dagger into a green gelatinous mass that had jumped on him. He was in the forests of Ellinia; he had arrived early that morning by taxi to train on the Slimes, which were abundant in the area. The attack forced the Slime to promptly hop off him. He reached behind him to pick up the Slime that was trying to creep up on him, spun around, and hurled it into the first, slamming them both against the wall. Before the Slimes could react, he had torn their bodies apart with a single slash. The Slimes’ useless membranes now lay on the ground, mutilated and oozing green liquid. He extracted the mesos that were in the puddle, and scooped the liquid into a flask so that he could sell it at Ellinia’s apothecary. He rummaged around in his bag and took out a gray scroll. It would return him to Ellinia instantly, but he had wanted to save it for later. On the other hand, his innards were crying out for food. He hesitated, but he tore the scroll to unleash its magic, and he was in Ellinia.

He had collected more money and that repulsive liquid than he thought; he had several thousand mesos now that he had sold everything. He browsed through a store, already holding the food he was going to buy, but then, he saw something on a table piled with other old and battered things. It was a clear case containing small, yet lethal looking shards of metal. The edges were worn, the tips were somewhat dull, but Aiken didn’t care, he normally didn’t want any more than food and shelter, but this was different; he wanted it more than anything right now. He brought it up to the counter and asked ‘How much will this be?’

‘What, that bunch of scrap metal?’ asked the fairy who apparently owned the shop. ‘I don’t even know why I have them; these wouldn’t be fit even for the likes of you. However, if these are your preference… Does five hundred mesos seem fair?’

A mushroom hopped weakly towards Aiken, but to no avail. It had several stars lodged in it, for one, and they were separated by a few metres of nothing but air didn’t help much, either. Aiken was hanging from a rope ladder, level with a floating mass of land, where that mushroom would be doomed to die. He pulled out a star from the rung just above him, and finished off the mushroom with a careful throw.

It was nearing noon, and Aiken felt hungry, so he took some food from his bag and began eating, gazing down at people who were passing by. There were several people, from beginners, woefully lacking in power, to the kind people who were helping them, to the marauding punks who were harassing them. But a two people stood out in particular. They were two boys, nearing adulthood. One of them was casually spinning a bright blue orb of energy on his finger. Before entering Henesys, he threw it at a snail, and it was decimated and gone without a trace. Aiken was far from dissatisfied with his choice of becoming a rogue, but he couldn’t help but feel some regret that he would not be able to use such powers. He gazed down at the crescent on his right palm, and an idea hit him.

He was back in Ellinia that afternoon, at the top, where Grendel lived. Heart pounding, he pushed open the door. He stepped in, and saw a circular room, lined with shelves that were filled with books. The whole place was illuminated by an enormous crystal hovering in the centre of the room that emanated an unearthly light. Grendel was climbing down from a ladder, with a rather large book under his arm. Seeing Aiken, he put the book down onto a crate, and said shrewdly, ‘You are here to become a magician, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, how did you know?’ Aiken said with some surprise.

With a small chuckle, Grendel answered ‘you don’t spend all those years as I without coming to be able to tell who would be here for what.’

‘So,’ asked Aiken cautiously, ‘can I make the job advancement?’

‘Yes, of course,’ answered Grendel. He handed Aiken a book, similar to the one he got from the Dark Lord. Careful not to show his palm, he took the book and placed it into his bag. Could it possibly work?

‘Give me your hand’ said Grendel.

Aiken remembered to extend his left hand this time, lest he expose himself of already being a rogue. Grendel grasped it firmly, and spoke the same words the Dark Lord had uttered. He felt the familiar sensation of well-being, though more subdued since he was healthier. He looked at his palm, and there was a shining silver… Blob. It didn’t exactly have an identifiable form; it was just a patch on his hand that was changing shapes.

‘Aiken, is there something that you aren’t telling me?’ asked Grendel.