Page 859 of End Game

It is one of the first spells she learned to use at this table.

One of the first spells she ever rolled.

I nod. “Roll to hit.”

She reaches for a die.

Not one of the expensive sets Dex bought her later.

Not the metal ones.

The simple first set.

She shakes the d20 once in her palm and lets it go.

It rolls across the table, clips the edge of the tray, and stops.

Nobody speaks.

Cami stares down.

So do I.

Nineteen.

The number hits me before anything else does because this isn’t only the tattoo.

Before Micah ever put a d20 on her hip, before she explained why nineteen was more honest than twenty, she sat at this table for the first time and rolled initiative with us.

Nineteen.

Her first initiative roll as part of this party.

I remembered it when she asked for the tattoo. Micah remembered too.

Now, hours of fictional history later, the number sits in front of her again at the end of the campaign she joined after it had already begun.

Nineteen.

Not perfection.

Enough.

Her eyes come to mine.

Something moves through my chest so quickly that I have no chance to categorize it before it hurts.

Dex makes a quiet sound.

Micah covers his mouth with one hand.

Griffin sits completely still.

Cami’s eyes shine.

I don’t need to check the armor class. I know it.

I know exactly how many hit points remain.