POV: Deketer

  The air was thick with incense and the stink of scented candles. Colored clouds practically rising from their pedestals and from the large open cauldrons strewn across the floor.

  The walls and ceiling were bare. Built entirely of smooth obsidian. With no letters inscribed therein and no banners hanging from the rafters. The doors were closed as well and the room had nothing that could be called a window. All coming together to choke out the senses of sight and hearing. Expect those the Master called upon to distract us of course.

  “Dance around them!” Master Rogvir shouted. “Do not let the posts hit you, you idiots! Anyone who gets themselves hit is getting kicked out of this hall for good!”

  He rapped his staff on the ground. The material letting loose a sharp series of snaps. As if he’d been flailing with a whip.

  At the same time, the posts were all whirling silently. Cutting through the air like nigh-invisible scythes and cleaving trails through all the smoke.

  I stepped carefully around them. Sniffing carefully to find the right candle or pot and nearly choking.

  If it had been a single smell, it might have been overpowering. Yet the supposed Master in charge of this dammed place insisted on weaving together a tapestry consisting of thousands of differing odors. Moreover, not all the smells were pleasant. In fact, some of them were disgusting, while others were somewhat pleasant while also being downright poisonous and highly toxic. A single mistake wouldn’t be lethal, but it would by no means be pleasant. Especially since my (Drake)ing teacher was so stingy with the healing.

  Alas, that was the whole point of the exercise.

  One had to isolate a singular smell on command and focus entirely on it so as to lead the instructor to the one specific candle it originated from. The idea was to train [Enhanced Smelling], [Enhanced Respiration], [Enhanced Concentration], [Enhanced Memory], [Enhanced Learning] and [Enhanced Processing] from the Enhancer side as well as [Respiratory System], [Nose], [Olfactory Navigation], [Olfactory Threat Detection] and [Olfactory Poison Detection] from the Shifter side. In addition to [Meditation] and [Premonition] from the Telepath side.

  All at once.

  All while retaining one’s awareness of their surroundings and stepping around the posts.

  All while the veil of reality was degraded to an uncomfortable degree.

  If you got hurt, then it was only because you were too stupid to do the training correctly. Or so my new Master insisted time and time again.

  In fact, I could swear that he was actually speaking to me again just then, despite his mouth being silent.

  “If you break something, then you must fix it! And if you ruin your body, then it’s only right you heal it! How else are you going to learn discipline young lady!” His voice echoed in my head.

  Then phantom pain crept up my arm where that bloody staff had struck me and I marshalled my focus in order to keep from cursing or reacting in any way that might bring me another round of humiliation.

  One of the new disciples wasn’t so lucky and I heard him walking into the path of a rotating post off to his right.

  The first limb struck him in his right leg. The second hit his right hand, hard enough to break claws and elicit a quick curse. The third hit him in the side of his head. Where his gills were.

  And just like that, another one failed.

  Master Rogvir crept closer, clicking his narrow tongue and licking the air as he did so.

  “Another chance!” The student cried out. “Please give me another chance Master! I swear I’ll get it right this time!”

  He tapped the staff on his head.

  “You’ve had plenty of chances Hoko. Far too many.”

  I could not see their shape through the darkness, but I still got the distinct impression that the staff was now pointed at me.

  “Even a spoiled fool like Deketer over there is managing to keep up. Her pride and ego may be overblown and far too large for someone so young and stupid, but she at least has enough sense to break herself training. And to listen to instructions. How is it that someone who brought so much shame on herself can still outperform you? I thought you talented and hardworking when I first accepted you as a pupil. What happened?”

  The student babbled something between sobs.

  “But I am not without mercy.” Master Rogvir continued. “Train on your own, child. Train until your bones break and your veins burst and try again. If you manage to succeed, then I will take you back as if nothing happened.”

  The student thanked Master Rogvir on his knees. Practically kissing the old coot’s bottom claws. Or his tail, it was hard to tell where they were positioned.

  ‘Liar.’ I thought bitterly. ‘You were never going to kick him out. Not for something this petty.’

  That was the way of Master Rogvir. Everyone was constantly in danger of being kicked out. Or so he said. In truth, he’d never actually given up on anyone so long as they genuinely tried their best. Even when he mistakenly took in fools and talentless dregs.

  Others called him admirable and a paragon of virtue. I called him a callow bully.

  One who took every opportunity to kick me, now that I was no longer his better in the eyes of other many fools.

  The worst part was the idea that I had to kowtow to him immediately after.

  It was either that, or get the cane.

  And I’d gotten the cane more times than I would have cared to, as of late.

  I shook my head, failing to dispel the bitter memories, but deciding to keep doing the exercise all the same while they came back unbidden.

  ‘Previously, that outcome would have been unthinkable. A stern look from me at level 1 would have sent supplicants and guards up to the 4th Tier running with tears in their eyes. As was appropriate. My grandfather had tutored a bloody Divine and she sometimes popped out of her infinite realm in Pandemonium to spend time with him and my own mother. Even if one ignored how utterly terrifying my own blood was, that fact alone should have been more than enough to cow anyone with even a mote of sense.’

  But all that authority had withered and died like a flower in the desert a few years ago.

  For all my other friends, training through the first Tier was a solemn, private affair. One where their parents would seal them into the family home with trusted attendants and tutors to go through all the Types one by one. Solidifying their foundations so as to not embarrass the lineage. Only after reaching an adequate level in the second Tier were they allowed back outside. For all the multiverse to see. At least, that was what you were supposed to do when you were part of a decently powerful species like the Kenari and when you had any kind of real authority.

  ‘I knew grandfather had tried pushing some no-name brats into my friend group if he thought they had talent, but they had all been the same. Unwashed cretins who gaped at the food we served and how fancy the curtains and the rugs were. One of them had even curled up like a pet atop one of our rugs. Thinking it was a bed and saying they were going to take a nap. I’d asked him if he was some kind of slave to be acting like that. While my friends had snickered.’

  “Yes. I was.” He had said with a completely straight face. “The blessed Hermit saved me and my sisters and all he asked was that I come over and spend time with you. He said I had talent and that you could learn from me.”

  Naturally, I responded to such insolence as one of the royal blood should. By setting my guards on him so that he could prove his mettle against someone who had started training.

  He did not win and he should have been glad to have survived at all.

  But mother and grandfather had not seen it that way. Instead, they set up a match between us and ordered me to spar this would-be slave as if he were of my own station. I had argued that my training had not begun and that it was unfair. Grandfather had snapped that we were both on the same Tier, so it was fairer than me sending my Tier 2 guards against him.

  ‘The boy had shattered nearly all the bones in my body after that. And to make matters worse, grandfather followed that up by thanking him vigorously and by granting him a place of honor among his own disciples.’

  That memory in particular still filled me with bitter rage and a black fury that crawled up my gills.

  The boy was now being called Sky-fart of something. And he had been allowed to sleep in my home. Under our roof. To eat at our table in a place of honor like the other disciples.

  But not me. Not anymore.

  After that, grandfather and mother and all my supposed friends and allies had hung me out to dry like some old rag they used to mop the floors.

  I would have all my classes paid for and all my tutors would be the best, but that was as far as things went. I would have to earn my keep through training and completing Instances and Excursions and I would have to sleep where all the other trainees slept.

  Those first few months had been the hardest and hardly a night went by where I didn’t cry myself to sleep. But the more instances I challenged and the more I trained, the faster I progressed. And the more I progressed, the more I realized that neither of them would change their minds and pick me up anytime soon.

  I was out on my own. At least until the second Tier. Perhaps until the third.

  It was a prospect that made my stomach roil as if it were full of eels. Made worse my how twisted some of my training regiments were.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Even now, I hungered for vengeance whenever I chanced to spy the old codger running this place. I wanted to remind him who I was and what would happen to him if I ever came to harm.

  I knew better though. The Master here was a student of a student of my own mother and by extension, someone grandfather had approved of. Both of them had even gone so far as to send letter to him, thanking him for taking me in despite my obvious deficiencies.

  ‘Deficiencies.’ I growled internally. ‘They make it sound as though I’m some sort of tool that stopped working all of the sudden. Like a symbiote who stopped doing its job.’

  It was a terrible feeling to have, but again, there was nothing for it.

  The strong will do what they will and the weak will endure what they must.

  That was basically the motto of the Labyrinth.

  Yes, I was alone and cold and weak at the moment, but it could have been worse.

  Other apprentices who made less progress than me, the lazy ones, were often kicked out and they tended to act as if this dammed smelly chamber was the best thing that ever happened to them.

  ‘Yes, I fell.’ I thought to myself. ‘But I guess I should be thankful I only fell this much. Others had to climb their way here and then they lost even that much.’

  I kept walking through the chamber. Keeping my mind calm and focused on all the different smells while also keeping track of how they moved. That was the trick. Not listening to the rotating poles on the post, not trying to see them through the fog, but to smell the scents as they moved in circular patterns.

  It was stupid, and unintuitive and much harder than an exercise had any right to be. But it was the only way to truly complete it. Moreover, this was the exercise that had earned this training hall its overblown reputation. Apparently, it made it so that students would be forced to combined either two or more abilities from the Enhancer side or from the Shifter side.

  The least powerful and most common of which would be the combined [Superior Respiration II] derived from [Enhanced Smelling] and [Enhanced Respiration]. Still, even a cheap combined power was much more useful than their first-Tier counterparts and even the weakest of such skills would open the doors to the second Tier.

  ‘And that is what I need.’ I reminded myself. ‘It doesn’t matter what the ability is, so long as it opens the doors to Tier 2. In that sense, I suppose I should be thankful mother saved me a spot here. Not only do I have a chance to rise as an Enhancer, but also as a Shifter. Though that would be a bit of a waste.’

  Ideally, I would have spent all this effort trying to get some combination that included [Regeneration], as the Type wasn’t good for much else.

  My tutors kept going on and on about how truly frightening dedicated Shifters could be, but they were a bunch of withered old codgers with one foot in the grave that saw themselves as lucky because they managed to catch mother’s attention. Spending all this time acquiring abilities like [Respiratory System], [Nose], [Olfactory Navigation], [Olfactory Threat Detection] and [Olfactory Poison Detection] was one thing. A point here and there never hurt overmuch, but spending the points from my hard-earned levels in those useless sinkholes was a whole other matter.

  [Respiratory System] aside, the rest provided little to no help in battle. Nor did they provide utility. They were more fit for symbiotes than for people, if truth be told.

  I supposed they might be a bit of help if I was ever in some underground death maze without light or sound, but even then, [Mental Map] was still a better choice. Not to mention sensory abilities from the Projector side.

  I shook my head and banished the thoughts once more.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s just as you think. You’ll merge some abilities and use the points to level up better things like [Regeneration]. Or other Enhancer or Telepath powers that make more sense.’

  Another student got hit. She too fell into a bout of sobbing. Choking back tears and sniveling like a coward.

  ‘That one is no good.’ I thought belatedly. ‘No good at all. This grumpy fool is always saying I’m not good enough and that I take everything for granted, but at least I can show my effort and talent off. At least I can keep up.’

  Indeed, despite Master Rogvir’s many, many rants, my symbiote was still as pristine as the moment I first came here, whereas she didn’t have a symbiote at all. Instead, she wore a tattered robe bearing stains all over, from where the poles had struck her. Over and over and over again.

  ‘Just let the poor girl go, old fool. You’re hurting her more than necessary. Giving her hopeless dreams that…’

  “I did it!” She cried out. “I did it! I got a combined ability! I got [Olfactory Mastery III]!”

  The news almost made me stumble into one of the poles myself, but I caught my own body just in time.

  I closed my mouth tightly and repressed a howl of rage as everyone stopped to cheer. Master Rogvir cheering loudest of all.

  “Wonderful!” He called out. “Absolutely wonderful! I’m so glad one of my useless students proved to be somewhat competent after all!”

  I gagged, but said nothing. I knew better than to say anything at this point.

  All I could do was join in the cheering and the jubilation while the useless air-head got her moment under the limelight.

  ‘Well, it isn’t such a big deal.’ I decided. ‘After all, I’ve only been here for six months or so and she’s been here for a full eight years or so.’

  I nodded to myself then. Gaining back some confidence.

  ‘That and this is her first ever combined ability. A Shifter ability with little to no use. It’s fine. I shouldn’t feel envious. In fact, I should probably pity her.’

  Yes, that was the right attitude. Someone of her meagre talents and station would not go too far beyond this point. Chances were good that relying on such a trashy ability would get her killed in a third-Tier Instance. If she ever made it that far.

  ‘Not that she will. Who would want to train next to her? Who would want someone who can smell better than others as their teammate during a dangerous Excursion?’

  I thought of how she might fare when put up against something real. Something dangerous like a forest fire or a volcanic explosion or a meltdown in some nuclear power plant.

  The thought made me smile internally and I manage to don a more genuine seeming smile on my face.

  I moved closer to offer my congratulations. Walking side by side with Jollyon, now that the poles had stopped spinning.

  “My word.” He said through his tiny, oddly shaped mouth. His thick, stubby tongue managing to dodge all those useless teeth his species had.

  “It’s always such fun to see people celebrating these kinds of things.”

  I gave him an odd look.

  “You make it sound as if people don’t celebrate combinations where you’re from.”

  He sighed.

  “Not in the same way. Not in this kind of public place. My fellow gnomes can be…” He paused to suck in a breath. “Overly jealous and overly paranoid. Many a young star has been assassinated in the middle of the night. Or in the middle of the day if their backing was weak enough. In all honesty, it’s a one of my species’ great failures. We probably could have had someone on the level of an old Master if only we stopped culling so many of our rising talents.”

  ‘You wish, runt.’ I thought to myself, but I managed to smile regardless.

  Gnomes were infamous for such follies of course. Fratricide was one of the staples of the species. Well, that and slavery. I supposed I should have known he was abnormal if Master Rogvir stooped so low as to take a gnome in though. He’s not the kind of codger to take bribes.

  ‘Under normal circumstances.’ I reminded myself. ‘People are treacherous by nature. This old fool didn’t get to where he was by being some kind of devout frugal monk.’

  It was odd that I had to remind myself of that. Especially after the way all my supposed friends and steadfast allies withered away after mother’s decree.

  “So those who combine abilities tend to keep it to themselves until the time is right.” He continued. Somehow deluding himself into thinking I cared about what he had to say.

  “Until they either get strong enough to deter would-be assassins or until they get the backing of a strong house.”

  “Sounds like you have it rough.” I spoke with cool courtesy.

  He didn’t seem to take the hint.

  “I do. Or rather, we do. But this will change.”

  He clenched his tiny fist.

  “I swear I’ll change my people’s ways, once I’m older. I know others have tried and failed, but I will succeed. Just you wait. In a few hundred years, people will know me as Jollyon the just. Jollyon the even handed. Jollyon the good…”

  I tuned him out. Letting my mind drift about now that the exercise had ended. I tried to relax. Calling upon all five points I had in [Meditation] and [Calm]. But what followed felt more akin to a deep and resonating feeling of emptiness, rather than true inner peace. Every time I felt like I was getting close, a certain tension would flare back up around my shoulders and my hips and the back and front parts of my skull. A sense of tightness that refused to let go.

  That tightness stayed with me throughout the ensuing celebrations. Though I did not allow anyone to notice.

  ‘They all mock me behind my back already.’ I reminded myself. ‘They all laugh about Deketer the fallen. Deketer the disgraced daughter of Lady Agony. They all jeer about the heights my mother rose to and how I failed to meet her expectations. It doesn’t matter how much I train or how much I excel. It will never matter. Mother would probably prefer to have someone like that clumsy fool for a daughter in fact.’

  The thought was as sudden and painful as a stab wound. Slicing through my ribs to get at my heart.

  I marshalled my will and refused to show any of it in my body language. Or in the confines of my mind that these fools might be reading.

  ‘But Master Rogvir knows.’ I spat internally. ‘He’s always known. He mocks me most of all. He enjoys seeing me like this. Seeing me struggle next to no-name nobodies. It makes him feel good. It makes him feel bigger than he actually is.’

  I knew there was no hiding my thoughts from him, which only added to the humiliation.

  ‘One day, it will all be over.’ I told myself again. ‘One day, they will see how much better I am and beg me to come back. One day. One day soon.’

  “Deketer.” Master Rogvir spoke. His voice cutting through the festivities like the sword of an executioner.

  I jolted. Before catching myself.

  “Yes, Master Rogvir?”

  “You should prepare yourself for a trip.” He said calmly. “You and all my other students have had the honor of being invited to meet a very important person.”

  The hush grew more pronounced. Many beady eyes meeting mine.

  Master didn’t acknowledge the reaction.

  “You should all prepare yourselves as well. Take whatever clothes you want from the third storage. My treat. Just make sure you’re all presentable. It would be good if you were all ready soon, though now would be better.”

  They all stared back at him now.

  “Well? What are you all waiting for?” He huffed. “Go on and get ready. The Hermit won’t wait forever.”

  Grandfather’s room was just as sparse as I recalled. The ground being composed of soft white sand. With the few pieces of furniture made out of hardened, shiny obsidian.

  It was the kind of abode that seemed purposely ill-made. As if their owner didn’t want visitors.

  Appropriate, since grandfather hardly ever interacted with the sycophants who gathered to him like flies to (Drake).

  And yet, here he was. Walking around with a hop in his step and thanking each and every trainee from that smelly hall as if they were a part of the family. That is, everyone except for me.

  In contrast, grandfather’s own disciples were all sitting around solid tables. Their legs crossed in the very picture of meditating monks.

  The food in front of them was lavish, as were their symbiotes. All of whom exuded the air of directed improvements.

  Even that little brat Sky-Fart was there. Sitting in a place of honor despite being little more than an up jumped stable boy.

  And I, was nowhere near the table. Standing far behind the disciples who had achieved ability combinations. Alongside the other wastrels and fools.

  I seethed, but said nothing. Keeping my body steady and trying my very best to banish the humiliation from my mind. Despite all that I’d gone through, I wouldn’t give that boy the satisfaction of seeing me defeated. Of seeing me broken.

  I belonged at the place of honor and I would behave as such.

  Grandfather finished the congratulations. His eyes passing over me and the other failures as if we were dung at his feet.

  “Thank you all. For your earnest effort.” He began, now addressing everyone. “You have all distinguished yourselves beautifully, and as such, I will offer you all my sincere congratulations. Handsome rewards for getting as far as you did, and…”

  He paused. His eyes meeting mine for the first time.

  “A warning.”

  He was still using his jovial tone, but the air in the room felt as if it had been cooled to freezing temperatures.

  His posture seeming as though he was ready to kill us all in the moments between thoughts.

  “I know that some, or rather, most of you, have signed up via the System for the tournament lottery, in order to try and win a spot as a bonus enemy in the upcoming tournaments happening across the three newest Tutorials.”

  He stared us all down. Never letting go of the pressure he exerted.

  “One of those Tutorials holds a species of primate. Think, gnomes. But twice as tall and far more… prosocial.”

  One of Master Rogvir’s apprentices laughed. Though the silence in the room drowned out his stupidity.

  “You should all know, that one of those primates has caught my attention and has the privilege of being my apprentice.”

  The imbecile stopped laughing.

  “And even with him being currently disqualified, I do not feel as though fighting any of his fellow Humans would be beneficial to you. To any of you.”

  A few fools gulped and the sound carried over the deafening silence.

  “Given that the spots are randomly assigned and one cannot choose which Tutorial they end up in, I would recommend that you all cancel the applications now.”

  It was an absurd request. The kind that would get you laughed out of any venue in the multiverse. The chances of actually getting chosen were so low, and the rewards so high, that anyone would be mad to turn the opportunity down.

  No one laughed.

  “Good.” Grandfather said softly. “Now that that’s settled, we can move on to other matters. Deketer, Sky Heart, follow me, if you please.”