Natalie stared at The Bestower, at the sleek automaton of silver streaked with cobalt-blue ats. While unlogs weren’t often talked about, as most sacred events weren’t, there was little mystery behind them. Everyone experienced an unlog, and Natalie’s parents, and Jordan, had told her what to expect.

  ‘Something else’?

  A fourth css choice? There was no such thing. Three options. That was set in stone. Natalie’d never heard of anything different.

  “This is an unusual opportunity,” The Bestower said. “And it es with bes as well as detriments. Would you like to hear more?”

  Natalie g the three pilrs—at the three css choices which had beely what she’d wanted, expected, but were somehardless, a disappoi.

  “More?” Natalie asked carefully. She was still adjusting to the news, bewildered.

  “You won’t be itting to anything.”

  “Then … I don’t see why I wouldn’t,” Natalie said, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean, unusual?”

  “As I said, it is an opportunity afforded to few.”

  “Okay?” The half-answer was unhelpful. Natalie thought it’d been iionally so. “What is it? The ame.”

  “Mm,” the automaton said. “There lies the detriment. You must accept before knowing.”

  Natalie stared. A css whose details were revealed after accepting? That was … besides being unheard-of … risky. For obvious reasons.

  “And the bes are?”

  “Potency.” The Bestower paused. “Uniqueness.”

  “Potency?”

  “More powerful skills than typical.”

  For the sed time, Natalie reeled at the annou. Most csses were on the same footing. They were what you made of them. While skills varied, the instances where one’s abilities were much weaker or strohan any other’s was … well, very, very unusual.

  As all of this was.

  “But I couldn’t know what it is, beforehand,” Natalie repeated.

  She didn’t even know where to start with that. It was … insanely dangerous. Accepting a css, without knowing what it was? It was like jumping into a dark chasm, hoping there was water, and a big pile of treasure, at the bottom.

  Except, in a roundabout way, she’d been promised there was treasure—the css would be strong. The question was how hard the fall would hurt. Would it be a css wholly unfitting her? Something she wouldn’t be able to make use of, by her nature? Natalie was a brawler; she would make a horrible [Spellweaver], or something of the sorts. Even a [Ranger] she’d be a poor fit for—Jordan had always beeimes the shot she was.

  Natalie was good with her hands. In being up-close and personal. Rolling around in a sile of limbs, in the chaos of a brawl. Holy, that was almost all she was good at. Most csses wouldn’t fit well on her.

  “I don’t eve a hint?”

  “You do not.”

  “And … that’s it? No more? Accept, and it’ll be strong, but I ’t know what?”

  “Even I don’t know,” The Bestower said.

  Which had Natalie blinking. Well … if that was the truth, then she guessed this creature wasn’t the omnipotent Architect, or the Maker. Not that many people believed that in the first pce. Just one of many fantastical theories.

  “Where did this e from?” Natalie asked. “Why me?”

  The Bestower shrugged, which was an oddly humaion ohus-far impassive being. “That’s not for me to know, either.”

  “Right,” Natalie said. “Okay. Sure.” It robably too sarcastic of a tone, sidering who or what she eaking to, but her filter was falling away from shock.

  She rubbed her face, then looked back at her other three choices. The ones she had expected, and wanted. Sure, they were b, if she were being ho—and, inexplicably, the smallest bit a disappoi—but a person’s css didn’t o be the most amazing thing in the world. Natalie could make great use of a [Berserker]’s skills, or an [Adept]’s. She already had a spot i, ditional on receiving an adventuring css.

  Which startled her with the reminder. “Will it at least be a bat css? It o be.” She couldn’t risk it otherwise. Even if the css owerful, Natalie had a path in life she inteo walk, no exceptions. She wouldn’t risk not being able to atte with Jordan.

  The Bestower tilted her head, and Natalie was, oddly, struck by the impression she was ferring with someone. Did gods—or eldritch creatures—have parties? She didn’t see why not, odd as it was to think about.

  “It will be a css with … bat applications,” The Bestower finally said. “That’s the most that will be provided.”

  Despite saying earlier Natalie wouldn’t get a hint, the automaton had answered her. Did that mean … she wanted Natalie to accept? Or that someone did?

  And again, Natalie he Bestower’s phrasing. Not, ‘I will provide’, but, ‘will be provided’. It implied something … even if Natalie couldn’t pce exactly what.

  But the answer had the tension draining from Natalie’s shoulders. A bat css. Or something with bat applications, whatever that meant. Why had the automaton put it that way?

  Holy, the crification would fit a variety of csses. Mages, to name one. Some mages didn’t bee adventurers, instead progressing through study and practice, log up in collegiums and iing spell formue. The Bestht have phrased it in that way to be specific; the css could be fully bat funal, but with other uses, too.

  Either way, it served her purpose fetting into Te. Past that, did it matter? An unheard-of ce for a powerful css … it was something most people couldn’t dream of. How could Natalie turn the offer down? However strange, or ill-fitting, it might be.

  And Natalie had always had an adventurous spirit. She didn’t take the road more traveled whenever possible. The opposite. Something as crazy as this? She felt pelled to accept, regardless the risk. Her only hard criteria had been a bat css, so she could follow Jordan to Te as had been their dream sihey were kids. Beyond that … did it matter?

  But gods, what would it be?

  “I have time to think, right?”

  “As much as you need.”

  That part of her unlog, then, wasn’t any different. She’d been told many times she would have plenty of time to sider her options. There was o rush into anything. Even Natalie, typically reckless, wouldn’t pick her css based on how she was feeling in the moment.

  So. Time to think.

  “Okay. Just … give me a sed.”

  Natalie sat down cross-legged, closed her eyes to focus, and thought.