That night, after the contestants departed, Damian reviewed the sword designs in his room. Some were nice but one among them stood out—an imitation of a masterpiece that could barely be made with traditional methods.. It bore a girl's name, and Damian had a suspicion about its creator.
The next day, he asked the staff to summon the girl, and his hunch was confirmed—it was the same skinny girl with the meager mana pool.
What a pair of followers he had gained: a penniless noble and a barely-qualified pathfinder. Yet, Damian admitted they had earned their place. The girl's design, after all, was by far the most impressive he had seen.
****
They argue more often now. Quietly, behind closed doors, but it's there. The pressure mounts, and I can see it wearing on them, even if they won't admit it. Still, the villagers we pass adore them, offer prayers to the Children of Light for their safety and success. None of them pray for me. That shouldn't bother me as much as it does. ~ Page 16
