I giggle a bit at Violet’s resigned sigh.


    “Look, just hear me out,” I say, trying to suppress my laughter. “I actually have a good reason for this. Look at the class...”


    [Tier 0 Candle Enthusiast]*


    A keen observer, seeking to discover the truth about candles.


    Skill - Candle Seeker: Never lose count of candles.


    Attribute Bonus: Awareness.


    Advancement: Deepen your understanding of candles.


    “I’m listening,” she says wearily.


    “Okay, so the candle counting skill is useless, and we’ll already have awareness covered once you finish your Survivor class.”


    “[Survivalist],” Vi corrects me. “You’re not really selling me so far.”


    “Shut up, I’m not done yet! What’s caught my attention is the description and advancement method.”


    “Learning about candles?” she asks skeptically. “What’s there to learn?”


    “Tons!” I insist. “In fact, we don’t know anything about them despite how important they are for our survival. Maybe if I can figure out how they work, I can get more warmth out of them, or use them to light fires.”


    “I suppose.”


    “And let’s not forget that they are magical. Aside from the Laser Geckos, they’re the most magical thing we’ve seen here, and they are everywhere in the Labyrinth. Maybe it’s possible to learn enough about them that I get a class that lets me do whatever they do.”


    “Magic again, Allie?” she huffs. “We’ve talked about this.”


    “I know! But it’s not just because I think it’s cool,” I insist. “We need this, I know it.”


    “Ugh, you really do deserve that [Orator] class,” she says. “Okay. We’ll try it. At least until I finish mastering [Survivalist]. We’ll reevaluate then, fair?”


    “Deal!”


    I assign the class, shuddering a bit at the alien feeling of something rooting around in my head. It’s not as uncomfortable as it was the first time, but I’ll never get used to that.


    I immediately tap into the new knowledge granted to me by the skill to take stock of the candles I have on me.


    One in my hand and two in each of the sixteen pockets lining the inside of the cloak give me a total of thirty three. Okay, I could have just figured that out myself with math, but I didn’t have to! I just know.


    “This skill...” I say, awestruck.


    “What?” Violet asks, worried. “Does it have some hidden effect? A drawback?”


    “Nah, it’s about as dumb as we thought it was,” I laugh.


    I pull out another candle as we head back to the Labyrinth, flipping it over in my hands. I’ve already done quite a bit of experimentation with these things. Trying to use them as crayons, testing whether the flames burn hot, trying to break them. It feels a little unfair that none of that counted toward advancing the class.


    [Level up!]


    Candle Enthusiast is now level 1.


    +1 Awareness.


    I snort. I hope that doesn’t mean that the [World Engine] is listening to my thoughts, but all things considered, it almost certainly is. Bleh, I don’t want to think about it.


    I consider what other tests I can do while I walk. It doesn’t smell like anything, and doesn’t produce any smoke. I try chewing on it idly as I think—not too hard, so I don’t break my teeth. It doesn’t taste like much, either. I try nibbling on the wick, and while it’s a bit more flexible I don’t get much out of that except very slightly warmer lips.


    “What are you, a baby?” Violet scoffs. “Is your idea of scientific rigor just sticking things in your mouth to see what happens?”


    [Level up!]


    Candle Enthusiast is now level 2.


    +1 Awareness.


    I stick my tongue out, though the gesture feels a bit hollow without anyone to direct it at. I’m sure she gets the point.


    “It’s working, isn’t it?” I retort. “I’ve gotta start with the basics and work my way up.”


    “Sure...”


    I pinch my nose as we make it back to the labyrinth. The goopy mess of decaying lizard guts certainly hasn’t started smelling any better. I don’t know if it’s more likely to turn away or attract other monsters, but either way I don’t want to go anywhere near it.


    After a quick check to make sure our base hasn’t been disturbed, I start making my way to the Map room. While I do, I try counting the formerly innumerable candles littering the halls. I’m immediately met with a dull, throbbing pain behind my eyes.


    “Ow! Ow! Ow! My head, ow!” I groan. Why does it always hurt?!


    “What’s wrong?” Violet asks.


    “Tried to count all the candles,” I explain. “There’s four hundred and eighty nine in this hallway, if you’re interested.”


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    “You counted them instantly?”


    “Yeah,” I confirm. “But at what cost?”


    Nursing my newfound headache, I don’t try counting any more candles on the way to the map. Once there, I add the portion of the ledge we crossed as well as the Worm Tunnel leading back to the Twisted Cavern. I make a little mark to note that I’m not actually able to cross the transition without climbing, then mark the unexplored sections continuing past the Worm Tunnel and in the opposite direction from the Gecko Corridor.


    I stand and wipe my brow, then hesitate at the day tally. I’m not sure if it’s been a day yet, as harrowing as it’s been. Sure I “slept” but that’s because I passed out from pain. I wasn’t actually out that long, according to Vi.


    I decide to leave it at four notches for now.


    “Now what?” I ask Violet.


    “Now nothing,” she answers tiredly. “As eager as I was to try to secure more food, now that I’ve had time to consider it, I was being hasty. The lizard meat we have is probably enough to last us until it goes bad. What we need most of all right now is rest.”


    It’s hard to argue with that. I am exhausted. Four days straight of near-constant walking with nothing but lizard meat and freezing water is really wearing on me. Especially when every drink of water costs me a forty minute hike across rough stone in mostly bare feet.


    The makeshift footwraps can only do so much for me, and they’re already starting to fall apart. I’m pretty sure I’ve got all kinds of blisters and cuts by now, but I don’t want to check.


    I take the chance to sit and relax for a bit.


    “Who do you think we were?” I ask.


    “What?”


    “Like, before we ended up here,” I clarify. “I can’t remember any details, but I think I was a college student. I remember having a lot of friends and going to parties—I just can’t remember anything about the friends...or the parties.”


    “I think I preferred being alone,” Violet answers. “Just playing some games or reading in peace and quiet. Maybe with one or two close friends who I could just enjoy the company of without talking much.”


    “Wow, I must be a huge pain then,” I chuckle. “I never shut up.”


    “No, you’re...fine,” she says lamely. “I don’t mind.”


    “Well if it ever bothers you, just tell me,” I offer. “I can’t promise to turn off the chatter, but I can at least try to give you a bit of quiet time now and then.”


    “Thanks.”


    Speaking of which, maybe I’ll do just that. To be honest, I was hoping for a bit more out of that conversation, but I can take a hint. I don’t want to be too selfish, and while I’m worried about her getting bored...well, I’m sure she’ll tell me.


    In the meantime, I need to keep myself from getting bored, so I turn my attention back to my new calling. Candles! I need to unlock their secrets before Violet finds something to hunt. I doubt it’s going to take more than one successful hunt to finish off her class, and then it’s gonna become my class, unless I can convince her that the candles are worth it.


    And also myself. This is a real hail mary, and I have absolutely no idea if it’s going to pay off. I’m hopeful, but I am not optimistic.


    I guess for starters, I can try counting the candles in the Map room. Although...this is a pretty big room, and the hallway leading here gave me a wicked headache. Maybe I can just do a little bit at a time?


    I try focusing on just a small section and while I do get a little ache, it’s not too much to handle. I repeat that process for a bit, making my way around the giant central pillar as I count up all the candles strewn about the floor, sitting in alcoves on the walls, or even hanging off the high ceiling.


    One thousand five hundred and forty eight. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that information, but that’s how many candles there are in the Map room. I almost regret using the skill to count them. It takes the fun out of it—not that tediously counting over fifteen hundred candles would have been fun.


    Well, I’m in no danger of running out. Let’s see what I can learn...


    * * *


    I spend the next three days doing nothing but fiddle with candles, occasionally broken up by furtive trips to the stream and even more furtive trips to the bathroom. A lot of the things I discover are of questionable utility.


    The wicks are too short to tie candles together into links. If you pile enough candles up so that their flames overlap, it’s a little bit warmer—still not enough to ignite cloth or even get uncomfortably hot to the touch, though. Doing so also makes the flames brighter, but not any bigger.


    Stuffing the cloak full of as many candles as it can contain...makes it very heavy. Violet vetoed the idea of stuffing all of our clothes full of candles because it is unwieldy, uncomfortable, and extremely stupid. However, a candle-flail is definitely on the table as a bludgeoning weapon, if we can find something better than our cloak to use as a sack.


    Candles do not make good pillows, but they do make passable wheels. They are, however, generally too short and blunt to use as pry bars. We tried moving the shell of the first snail we encountered, with limited success. I think it’s slightly less of an obstruction now, but Vi says I’m imagining it.


    Violet has insisted that I do not try swallowing a candle whole. She’s probably right about that one, and I might need more sleep.


    Throughout the entire Labyrinth of Candles, there are a total of exactly sixty five thousand, four hundred and eighty six candles—not counting the ones I carry around with me or those that have been placed as markers within the caves. I do not know if this number has any significance, but I was bored.


    All of this rigorous research has earned me an entire one level. It took us four days to master two classes and nearly finish a third, and then we just hit a wall. Our tier one class hasn’t even budged, and Violet’s class has similarly struggled, as we’ve yet to encounter another creature. The lizard meat is starting to get kinda sour, and my skinny jeans are a whole lot less form fitting than they used to be.


    Something needs to change soon, but neither Violet nor I have any idea what.


    As if I needed any more motivation to figure out a better source of warmth, there’s one thing that I want more than anything else. Before palatable food or a soft bed, before sunlight, or games, or people other than Violet to talk to.


    I desperately need a bath.


    It’s been an entire week, and a lot of that time has been spent walking around—not to mention sweating from pain and stress. There’s no way around it—I smell terrible. The only water we have available is freezing cold and moving too fast to swim in. I can’t even wash my clothes because we have no way of drying them before we freeze to death.


    It’s this desire that finally leads me to my first real breakthrough.


    While on one of our regular trips to get a drink of water, I’m struck by a flash of whimsical insight. I take a pair of candles out of my cloak and plunge them into the water.


    “What are you doing?” Violet asks.


    “I have no idea,” I answer honestly. “I want warm water. Candles have warmth, the stream has water, I’m putting them together.”


    “Incredible logic,” she quips sarcastically. “You should be a scientist.”


    “Shush,” I respond. “I just want to see what will happen.”


    “Nothing is going to—”


    Violet cuts herself off as tiny bubbles start to rise from the underwater candle flames. It’s not much, but it’s something.


    I pull the candles out of the water, and find that they are now emitting little trails of smoke. The smoke is warm to the touch and leaves a moist layer of condensation on my hand. Not smoke, then—steam. I may not be as smart as Violet, but even I can tell that much.


    “I don’t understand,” Violet says as I examine the steaming candles. “They barely produce enough warmth to notice, but instantly vaporize water?”


    “Apparently?” My response comes out sounding like a question. “What does this mean?”


    “I honestly have no idea.”


    [Level up!]


    Candle Enthusiast is now level 5.


    +2 Awareness.


    My eyes widen.


    “Whatever it means, it was an important enough discovery to earn me two levels.”