When Brin woke up, Hogg was carrying him. Hogg had been carrying him this whole time, metaphorically and otherwise, so that wasn’t new. It stung his pride, but he needed to get over that. It was the fate of children to be carried by adults, and he was a child again. At least his body was, and in this world the gap between children and adults was even bigger than it had been in his previous one.

The sun was up. It was morning, and not early morning either. The landscape had changed again, back to the curvy moss-covered trees that had surrounded Travin’s Bog. It felt like their entire journey had been one big circle and he was right back where he started. For all he knew, that was the case.

“I’m up,” said Brin.

Hogg let him down. Brin felt a bit woozy, and his first few steps were unsteady. Whatever drug Hogg had given him earlier, it was still working. The pain was gone, but the tiredness remained.

“What’s happened since I was out?”

“A lot of nothing. I think we’ve finally lost the army’s outrunners.”

“That’s a relief,” said Brin. For some reason, the news just made him feel a bit anxious. The undead had been terrifying, but now that they were gone he felt kind of aimless. “What happens now?”

“I guess that depends on what you want to happen,” said Hogg. “But we should talk about this with the others. Let me pull them up.”

Brin expected Hogg to show a window to them like he had before, but instead, he spoke a few words in the magical language he’d heard Lumina use. Unlike with Lumina, the language sounded quiet and hushed when Hogg spoke it, and Brin’s mind wanted to slip past the words without really hearing them.

Copies of the other three Heroes appeared right in front of them. Without [Know What’s Real], Brin would have been tempted to believe they had teleported in place.

The Heroes looked tired. More worn down, less polished, but glorious all the same. Galan’s golden armor bore heavy rents in places, the artful designs on his shield had been marred, but it was unbroken, just like him. His armor had lost his shine, but his eyes were still full of brilliant determination.

Lurilan’s clothes were covered in mud. The left sleeve of his shirt had been torn away, and a tan bandage covered his forearm, seeping through with blood, but it didn’t affect the steely strength with which he held his bow. His posture was elegant, his manner refined.

Lumina’s robes were splashed with mud and probably blood as well. Her sleeves looked like they’d burned away to the shoulders and she’d lost her hat along the way. Her blonde hair was a frizzy mess.

She was beautiful. His adult body would have appreciated her beauty more; he didn’t think this boy had gone through puberty yet. But maybe it was better like this, as a boy his admiration could be unreserved and pure.

“Wow!” said Lumina. She stepped forward towards Brin, cautiously reaching out a hand. “He’s so lifelike!”

Brin flinched, “What’s going on?”

“I created mirror images of them here, and images of me and you over there. Now we can all speak naturally,” said Hogg.

“I haven’t heard of [Illusionists] creating mirror images of other people before,” said Lumina.

None of the Heroes seemed surprised at this development. Clearly they’d already figured out Hogg was an [Illusionist], or he had told them.

“It’s not the Skill. I’ve created them with channeled light. Guided somewhat with freeform spellwork,” said Hogg.

Brin didn’t really follow that, but it must’ve been impressive because Lumina’s eyes went wide. “How is that possible? It’s so perfect. I wouldn’t even know it was an illusion had you not told me. Can other [Illusionists] do this?”

Hogg snorted in derision. “I sincerely doubt that. Listen, I ain’t accustomed to talking about this kinda thing, if you get my drift…”

“Never fear, comrade,” said Galan. “We will keep your secret.”

“Would you swear an Oath to that?” asked Hogg.

“I will not. You shall have to trust my word of honor, and the goodwill you’ve earned with your heroism these last days,” said Galan.

“I’ll not betray your trust,” said Lumina.

“Nor I,” said Lurilan.

“Um. Me neither,” said Brin.

“I guess that’ll have to do,” said Hogg. “There is an Oath that I think we should all swear, though.”

“Ah, yes. I’ll start,” said Galan. “I swear on my Class and levels, never to reveal the nature of our Quest nor the method by which Brin made himself the beneficiary of a System Quest. I further swear to avenge anyone here who, by torture or coercion, is forced to betray this Oath. So help me Solia.”

Lumina went next. “I swear on my Class and levels, never to reveal the nature of our Quest nor the method by which Brin made himself the beneficiary of a System Quest. I further swear to avenge anyone here who, by torture or coercion, is forced to betray this Oath. So help me Sezorat.”

Lurilan and Hogg both swore the same oath. Lurilan swore by “Magelin” and Hogg swore by “Nedramus.” Then they all waited for Brin.

“Why, um, are we doing this? If I can ask,” said Brin.

“Of course you can,” said Lumina. “The benefits to a System Quest can be… extreme. To someone on our level. And unfortunately, there are those who would seek to… repeat your tragedy in a similar town, if it meant a chance at a System Quest. There are those who would see one hamlet, or five, a small price to pay for such a chance. We swear this particular Oath because if anyone breaks it, the System will notify us, since we’ll be impelled to avenge them. Does that answer your question?”

Brin nodded. It seemed odd to him that the Oath only had a clause for if anyone was forced to betray the Oath, and nothing for if they did it voluntarily. Apparently losing your Class and levels was considered punishment enough.

“I swear on my Class and levels, never to reveal the nature of your Quest nor the method by which I made myself the beneficiary of a System Quest. I further swear to avenge anyone here who, by torture or coercion, is forced to betray this Oath. So help me Solia.”

Alert!

You have sworn an Oath.

The Oath of the Quest Survivor.