Velin turned and followed my line of sight. “Did you see someone familiar?” he asked.
“Another human,” I answered. “She’s gone now.” I poked Eternity as it sat on my tankard and found that I could, indeed, touch the thing. It was oddly warm. “Since when can you bite me? You were supposed to be a hologram.”
“I never said this avatar was a hologram,” it countered. “This is a hard light construct.” As if to prove a point, my finger went through the dragon afterwards. “It can also become intangible if there is need of it.”
To answer one of my previous questions, it seemed that it was, indeed, possible to hit a mote of light with a wire brush. I filled that away for when I’d get my hands on a fly swatter. I rubbed at my nose and sniffed in annoyance. The bite hadn’t been that deep, but it stung.
“I don’t think there are other humans here,” Velin said, his eyes also scanning the crowd. “I’m sorry to say, but humans are rare. I’ve only ever seen two others like you in Dragon’s Tear.”
“Could have been my imagination, I suppose.”
I took another long draw of the tamial. It was even better after the first shock.
Around us, the village celebration looked to be ramping up. The noise went from background hum to a roar. A hint of music floated above the din of voices.
And through the musk of many furred bodies crowding together, the smell of amazing cooking. No meat, of course, but that didn’t make the whole aroma of the place any less inviting.
Part of me wanted to grapple with Eternity with regards to the woman I’d seen. In spite of what I said to Velin, I was certain that I hadn’t been mistaken.
A woman. Human. Looked to be in her thirties, with a shock of blonde, nearly white hair spilling down to her shoulders. In the single glimpse I’d gotten, she was wearing a rather familiar-looking button-up shirt, similar to something I’d have seen on Earth.
That, and Eternity’s strange reaction. This was the first time the presence had reacted in a way that wasn’t completely neutral, and it got me thinking.
The dragon took to the air and circled around my head as the serving iepurran placed two leaves filled with grilled skewers in front of us. I was still full from breakfast but the smell was too good to pass up.
“I… err… I don’t have any money,” I said as the iepurran turned to other customers.
“It is all on esteemed Eklil’s expense, honoured guest,” he said as he poured another tankard of tamial. “Please, enjoy our hospitality. You are a friend of Carmill Hill.”
Again, that. I still didn’t feel like I deserved the recognition, but I wasn’t going to turn down the treat.
The whole market took on a kind of Oktoberfest feel, with iepurrans seated on the long benches, talking animatedly, drinking, eating, and generally looking like they were having a great time. The feeling of being watched never returned as I ate.
“You're sure you won’t travel with us back to Dragon’s Head?” Velin asked as we finished our meal.
“No.” The thought of getting on a boat made my knees weak. “No, I’ll walk. I want to see more of your world.”
“You know that not every place is as peaceful as this one.” He used the skewer stick to clean between his teeth. “We travel by boat because it’s safest, but even there we employ guards. This far out from the larger cities, you can run into wild animals and even monsters.”
“There’s a difference?” I asked, curiosity piqued. I was already on my third tankard and I was starting to feel uncomfortably full, a warmth spreading out from my core. Just how well would Eklil’s anti-alcohol tea handle too much of the mead?
“Wild animals don’t skin you alive,” Velin said after some thinking. “Monsters will do that, and worse.”
Place could get intense, got it. I felt myself grinning.
“I do have a sword. And some skills.”
He shook his head and scratched between his ears. “And it is an impressive cloudsteel weapon, no doubt, but it won’t be enough if you get ambushed. Please consider waiting a while longer and come with us.”
Nope. There was no way in hell I was going to get on a boat. I would take my chances with the forest and whatever lay through there. Plus, my curiosity was needling me.
We freed up our spots and took the tankards with as we headed to the dungeon well. Nothing had changed there except that I got a pop-up message when I neared the thing.
[CLUSTER NODE OPERATING AT 99.7% EFFICIENCY]
[WOULD YOU LIKE TO MAKE ADJUSTMENTS?]
“Can you see that?” I asked, pointing at the little box floating above the well.
“The honourable doctor scolding that cub?” he asked, looking way over to the other side of the plaza.
“No, but that answers the question. Eternity, what adjustments can I make?”
“I do not recommend making any at this time,” it said as it landed on my head. Now I knew the weight wasn’t something I was imagining. “But you can decide how to use the ambient mana in order to alter the local ecosystem. Water distribution. Nutrient cycling. Growth rates. As your Insight is only Level 1, you will not be able to access the advanced settings. This settlement is stable.”
It didn’t say the words, but I heard them clear enough: ‘Don’t touch a running system, Klaus,’ was the unsaid part. ‘You’re currently too ignorant to know what you’re doing.’ Which… fair enough.
There wasn’t anything left for me to do except mull about, drink, and feel useless. Velin excused himself and headed off to find Ienella, so I was left alone to finish my drink while leaning on the well, in the shade. I checked my map again to see how far my area of influence extended. It covered a pretty big chunk of the forest. If I went through there, could I message Eklil to ask him for help with plants and stuff? I’d have to ask him before deciding I could rely on his expertise.
And I’d need supplies. A pack of some sort. Food. Medicine. Clean water.
The reality of what I was about to do hit me as I was jutting it all down in my notepad: I was about to head out into the wild. Alone, Eternity notwithstanding. And it really was The Wild here, capital letters and all. I frowned at how unbothered I was by the idea but, then again, I had fought a bear, a crocodile-thing in a river, several mechabirds, and wolves.
My status screen popped up in front of me, summoned by my curiosity. There was a little (+) symbol next to all of my stats.
I stared at the Willpower one and thought back on the two points I’d allocated. Was that what was driving my surge of courage? Or was it something deeper in me changing?
What I knew was that I didn’t want to touch that stat again. Not yet. It had dulled something in me and I wasn’t certain I liked what that implied. And I wasn’t certain at all I’d like it taking more of what I could feel.
So, instead, I dropped my free point into Constitution, just to improve my overall survival odds. Earlier, when I’d gained the class, I’d been too keyed up on adrenaline and panic to really feel what my new stats did for me. But now, with that point allocated and the confirmation given, I felt refreshed, like I’d just had a really good nap after a long fever.
[NAME: KLAUS]
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[LEVEL: 3]
[STRENGTH: 9]
[INTELLIGENCE: 10]
[CONSTITUTION: 8]
[WISDOM: 5]
[WILLPOWER: 8]
[FREE STAT POINTS TO ALLOCATE: 0]
[FREE SKILL POINTS TO ALLOCATE: 1]
[INSIGHT LEVEL: 1]
[TRAINED SKILLS:]
[HEAVY BLOW - INITIATE - LVL: ★☆☆☆☆]
[PARRY - INITIATE - LVL: ★★★☆☆]
[HEARTSEEKER - INITIATE - LVL: ★☆☆☆☆]
[INSTINCT REACTION - INITIATE - LVL: ★☆☆☆☆]
[SURE FOOT - INITIATE - LVL: ★★☆☆☆]
[SYSTEM SKILLS:]
[ADRENALINE SURGE]
[DETECT ENERGY FLOW]
My combat skills were growing and I could feel the knowledge there, in my head and in my muscles, slowly taking root and germinating. I sipped my iepurran brew, dismissed my stat screen, and watched the people walking by.
This was fine… right? I had goals. I had something to achieve. And, as Eternity had put it, the world was wide. I could go anywhere. Do anything. Be… well, no, I couldn’t be anyone. I was still myself, even if I was already having trouble recognising a bit of my old self. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if that progressed.
I shuddered and shook away from that line of thought.
“Well, I do hope you’re going to be a lot more forward after I gain more insight,” I said. “How much do I need for you to fully open to me?”
“Five.”
Eternity’s answer took me by complete surprise and I gaped. I hadn’t expected a straight answer. That, momentarily, muted me.
“You seem surprised,” it stated the obvious. “At that level you will have access to much of the information relevant for your situation. That is not a maximum level but an early threshold.”
“And what is the maximum level?” I asked, hoping this wasn’t another stone wall.
“Ten.”
Huh. Clear ten dungeons. That didn’t sound quite so bad. I put a hand on the warm stones of the well and thought back to the bear. It wasn’t going to be that easy always, probably, but it didn’t seem like such a daunting task. I could fight four more bears. I could probably even win, given my skills.
And now that I was thinking all of that and feeling so optimistic, the next well would probably have a dragon in it and the fight would happen in an elevator box so I could use none of my skills and have nowhere to run. Maybe dying by dragon fire was a little like being on Ground Zero of a nuclear blast and I’d die too fast to feel it happening. I chuckled at my own morbid mood.
“You’re not going to tell me what that was about earlier, are you?” I asked, thinking back at the woman I’d seen.
“I cannot say,” came the characteristic answer.
“Do I get an answer at the next insight level?”
“I cannot say.”
“Well, fuck you too.” I raised the tankard in a saluting gesture towards the bitey dragon. “To our health.”
I then got supplies. I tried offering to work for them. No one wanted to hear of it. They, however, handed stuff to me. A lot of stuff.
I got a really impressive backpack at the local leather worker—they didn’t eat meat, but they still hunted apparently. It was just about the size of a good hiking backpack back on Earth, and the iepurran leather worker adjusted it for my build and height. It was really comfy and light. Smelled nice too.
From Ielup, the healer, I got a whole load of poultices and tonics that jingled in glass vials or small, tin cans. Some cure-alls. An anti-venom. Salves for burns, rashes—especially for something called Varago’s Rash—and several other potions the effects of which I had to note down to remember. All of them were approved by Eternity as appropriate for human use.
Potions… they had fucking potions. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised, and at the same time mystified by the revelation. I don’t think I’d properly allowed myself to process the healing magic Ielup had performed on the river bank, and the reality of that was starting to catch up to me.
I visited the local blacksmith too and she was entirely too excited to look at my sword. That is not a pun. The lady iepurran there squealed in delight when I drew out the blade.
“Cloudsteel!” she cooed as I laid the weapon over her table. “Wonderful quality. This is a Masterwork-level weapon that you have, honoured guest. You need to take care of it!”
She sharpened it after shooing away many of the other customers. Then she prepared a care package for me, refusing to take anything in return—not that I had anything to offer except promises and IOUs. I also got an in-depth explanation about how to care for my oversized box cutter, complete with pointers, tips, and even good practices.
Who knew so much went into sharpening a sword? I sure as fuck had no idea. I barely kept the knives in my kitchen sharp.
By evening I unlocked a new skill called [MAINTAIN BLADE] that also increased by one star as I repeated everything the blacksmith taught me. It was part of my Alteration line of skills, so it counted towards my next level. Neat.
When I wanted to go and grab food rations, all the market iepurrans turned me away.
“Ienella, bless her, already came by and got many things you would need, honoured guest. Speak with her,” one of the merchants suggested, bowing to me. Damn. I had hoped not to impose more on Eklil’s family.
With all my preparation to leave, I had barely noticed that dusk had descended and Areestra, the planet hanging in the sky, had gone over the horizon. And then I saw why the festival was called the Night of Roses.
All homes opened up their shutters and the light of their sprite lamps flowed out to fill the village. Every home had brought out bushes of brightly coloured roses to array around their porches. They bloomed just as the night descended, a riot of colours shining in the sprite-lit dusk.
Eklil’s home was, probably, the most resplendent of them all. He hadn’t brought out pots, but had grown the bushes straight around his house, a living wall of flowers that filled the air with a sweet, melancholic scent. The flowers themselves were smaller than the roses I knew on Earth, but their scent was intoxicating.
Elder Eklil sat on his porch, surrounded by the horde of grandchildren, and was enjoying an open-air diner when I arrived.
“Join us, Klaus,” he said, not asking about my pack or about my plans.
The kids turned to me and I felt the attention of dozens of eyes settling over me. For a moment they all drew breath, as if to launch themselves into another barrage of questions, but a hand raised by Ienella nipped that in the bud.
“If you leave tomorrow,” Eklil said, “you will miss a large part of the festivities.”
I set down my pack out of the way and sat on the rough wood, next to the elderly iepurran. “If I don’t leave tomorrow, it’ll be hard to leave at all. I really like it here.”
The village was beautiful. The people were lovely. But I wanted to move, to travel, to see and experience more. Now that the glitch artefacts were all gone, I didn’t feel I was needed at all.
“I have prepared a tea package for you. It will fit in your pack,” he said as he munched on what was definitely a carrot. “And food to last you several days on the road. While you’re in the area, feel free to contact me if you run into something you’re not certain is edible.”
The Night of Roses was quieter than I’d expected. The day had been hectic with iepurrans moving to and fro everywhere. The night was different. It was peaceful, a respectful silence hanging in the air. Families were gathered just as Eklil’s was and they were eating together. They would bring food from one home to their neighbour and share of what they had.
“We came here because it’s a peaceful place,” Eklil said as Ienella received a large leaf from a neighbour. It was filled with small balls of some sort of fried vegetable mix. Smelled like falafel, and tasted a bit like chicken. “We wanted a safer place to start families and to grow our community. And we wanted life to move slower, at our own pace.” He lit a pipe and puffed out rings of blue smoke. “Some went back, like my children. Many remained here. It is still a quiet place and we celebrate our community thriving.”
“Thank you for hosting me,” I said as I leaned against the wall, watching the much slower traffic, taking the sight in to carry with me.
I’d have to return once I learned the moment-binding skill.
“We do not turn away outsiders,” Eklil went on, giving me a pointed look. “If you’d like to remain, you can. A home can be built for you within the week.”
“Thank you,” I repeated. “But I’d rather I went out and saw more of Oresstria.”
“It will not be like Carmill Hill. There are much more dangerous places out there.”
“I expect there are. I’ll deal with them as I find them.” I looked at Eternity from where it was perched atop a small iepurran’s head. The other kids kept trying to poke it. “And I’d like to learn what brought me here and why. I can’t do that if I just wait around.”
Eklil nodded sagely and just puffed his blue smoke. “I could help you train your skills and understand your interface,” he offered.
Much as I’d love for Eklil to Yoda me, I felt it was better if I did all that on my own. I already knew my interface wasn’t quite the same as the iepurrans’ and I’d seen how it rewarded me being proactive. I shook my head and avoided his gaze.
“I’ll head off tomorrow morning and see if I can pick a good direction to head into.”
“The river would be safest.”
“I’ve been told. I’d rather stay away from running water if at all possible.”
I thought back to the river stalker and the desperate fight in the tributary. I wasn’t eager to repeat that. At the time I’d been too keyed up to really appreciate the fact that I was fighting in water and I could, at any time, step into a deeper part and drown stupidly. Looking back on it… yeah, I broke out in cold sweat.
“Klaus!” Eternity called out to me, its voice uncharacteristically irate. I leaned forward to see one of the kids with its hands balled up around the small dragon, swinging it around to keep it away from other prying grasps. “Have them unhand me, please.”
“I thought you could turn intangible,” I said.
Eternity puffed out a ring of smoke. “I can. I choose not to, for their entertainment. But please have them unhand me. I do not enjoy being restricted.”
I laughed. “Kids, feel free to play with Eternity. Don’t be gentle.”
“Klaus!”
“Just don’t pull on its tail. That makes it spit sparks.”
Of course, the very first thing one of them did, was pull on the dragon’s tail. I doubt Eternity felt a thing, but it dutifully provided the sparks. And a glare my way.
Tit for tat, bitch.
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