Tarrus was fuming. He’d spent the entirety of his new life– thirteen years, burdened with the memories of a different world, and still carrying unfulfilled desires in his heart. Coming out here, this place that was once the heart of an empire but now sat on the forgotten border of a wasteland, was supposed to kill two birds with one stone. Here, he was closer than ever to his old life. Here, he could reclaim tools and artifacts that would be essential to his plans of conquest. And, here he was supposed to find out how to get his magic back.
Tarrus Tabass Magic Potential: 0.8
He grimaced, remembering the moment he had been measured. 0.8. In the old world, the amount of magic he could manipulate would have had him set for life. Not an extravagant life, but in a world where 1% or less of the population had magic, every little bit mattered.
But in this life, he had nothing. Less than nothing, in fact. “Magic Potential”, as they called it, was a measure of how much mana one could expel from their mana pool and manipulate outside their own being. Not a measure of strength exactly, as one could continue to grow their mana pool, but more a measure of dexterity; how well one could potentially manage their own mana against the pressure of ambient mana.
A rating of 1 was the baseline; except through some malign miracle, every living person was expected to have a magic potential of at least 1. Enough to do some basic magic for daily life, and power most magic tools, but not much else.
It always gave him a moment of pause when he thought about it. Everyone had a magic potential of one or higher, except in truly miraculous cases. So, he was exceptional in a way, at least. But why? He had some suspicions, but no way to test them yet.
His measurement was both a setback, and a blow to his psyche that he hadn’t expected. For an entire lifetime, his whole identity had revolved around the power of his magic, and his plans in this life needed him to have that same power. Without it, he’d been… unsure how to operate.
But just as he’d been starting to lose his hope, a little artifact gave him a strange lead that might help. He’d come out into the desert following the strands that the statue said belonged to him, to his old body, trying to get a sense of how far each guideline was. He’d been walking all day, focusing on one strand at a time, orienting himself in its direction, and walking left and right to feel how much the pointer deviated.
Most of them pointed very, very far away.
So he fumed.
And then a young woman with a talking bee came along, and he was distracted enough to forget his frustration for a moment. Dusting himself off, he walked toward the unusual pair. “you want my advice on your skills? Very well! Let the consultation begin.”
“Oh! Uh, I don’t know, I mean, Advancement is kind of personal, right?”
He snorted. “Nonsense. Adventurers and parties frequently seek the advice of the guild or veterans on how to guide their development. We even have records of typical Advancement ‘builds’ to inform newbies on what their path might look like.”
She wrung her hands nervously. “Right! That makes sense. Um… I’m sorry, I’m just not sure if you have the right… experience to advise…” She finished weakly.
Oh, now I feel bad for laughing at Will when he had to talk to this guy.
“Because I’m a child?” Tarrus sighed. “Well, I’ve become somewhat used to hearing such things now. How about this?” He pointed at Annette. “You and I spar for a bit, and if I can’t beat you or figure out where your abilities are deficient, we’ll just go our separate ways. If I can, you’ll at least listen to my advice.”
She tilted her head a bit. “So… You want to help with my Advancement?”
“I could use a distraction.”
“Well…” She glanced at Melli, who buzzed encouragingly. “Okay, sure.”
“Excellent!” Tarrus positioned himself a small distance away, and nodded at her. “Begin anytime.”
Annette just looked at him for a moment, hands up in a boxing pose. How did I end up fighting a 13 year old in the middle of the desert today? What is going on? She shook her head. Whatever, he asked for it and I can just heal him afterwards.
Grabbing her staff, she began gently shaking it, dropping bees into a growing cloud. She glanced at Tarrus, still patiently waiting. “Sorry about this.” Waving the staff like a baton, she loosed the swarm.
And was surprised when her opponent ducked around the mass of bees, dashing toward her as her summoned insects course-corrected, trailing behind Tarrus. Unfortunately for the bees, Tarrus had been training.
He reached Annette, still in a boxing pose, and easily dodged a few panicked swipes with her staff. Frowning, he just watched her a bit before taking off to keep ahead of the bees. As he ran circles around Annette literally, and her bees figuratively, he glanced at her.
“If you want my advice, it’s best to go all out! I need to see everything to give the best guidance.”
Melli buzzed mirthfully while Annette blushed. A bit more of a challenge than you thought, child?
Ignoring the Spirit, she called out “This is pretty much all I have for combat!”
“Oh! Well, then I suppose I should finish this.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“I should finish this? Wai– HRGH!” Annette folded over the boys fist, all the air driven from her lungs as she collapsed. Through pained breaths on the ground, she asked “Was that… necessary?”
“In more ways than you may realize, yes.”
He squatted down next to her. “Now, you said that that was all you have ‘for combat’. What are your non-combat abilities?”
Pulling herself up to her knees, she grimaced. “Oof. Well, I mostly use some summoned honey to heal with, and I can conjure some wax as well. I use it to make casts or bandaids.”
Tarrus nodded consideringly. “Hmm, a fairly weak attack that could be spread across an area and healing. Basic features of someone occupying a support role. From our spar, I assume you are lacking in both combat experience and Advancement levels?”
She nodded.
“I think I know what you need, both for your combat style and your new level.” He motioned for Melli and Annette to come close. “You just need to lean into some things you already have. I want you to try this…”
-=-<^>-=-
Some time later, Tarrus was still walking, trying to ignore the growing pit in his stomach. He knew where this lead was taking him, but he was trying his best not to let himself think about it yet.
Idly, he held his hand out in front of himself, clenching into a fist. Strictly speaking, he didn’t need to punch Annette during their spar. But there was something, some lingering thought or emotion drifting around that had suggested it to him.
She’d doubted his capability, because he was still a kid again. His mind briefly flashed back to all the people he’d met so far who’d felt the same, from Evie when he was registering to Ragnar and those like him. His fist tightened. That lingering something had enjoyed giving Annette a light punishment. He’d felt punch-y lately.
He shook his head as he unclenched his fist, letting go of that lingering feeling. “What, am I so stymied by current circumstances that I’ll take my frustrations out on just any weakling that crosses my path?” He shook his head, chuckling. “That’s unbefitting of a Lord, and unlike me. Such behavior is…” childish.
He left the thought unfinished, frowning as he turned back to his trek through the desert. He hiked up one last hill, thumbing the statue in his hand as he followed the thread it wove off into the distance. At the top of the hill, he paused a moment to reference the map he’d brought with him, orienting himself before setting off. His new destination, an old, ruined watchtower in the distance, had just come into sight.
Reaching the tower was, physically, unchallenging. Likewise for climbing it. Emotionally, however, it grew increasingly difficult. When the tower came into sight, he stopped and pivoted, walking perpendicular to the thread he followed, watching as it pointed past the tower. At the base of the tower, he did the same thing, grimacing as the thread notably changed angle. He was close.
That wasn’t a good thing.
At the top of the tower, he stood marvelling at the sight. And marvelling at his awful, awful luck.
Spread out before him was an ancient city, once a sprawling metropolis, now a crumbling home to the only Rupture in the region, and a Domain recently up for re-evaluation, thanks to the discovery of a mirrored sub-Domain.
Tarrus swore. “Damn this weak, worthless body! Damn this city, and this blasted statue!” He wound up, prepped to throw the magic item to the ground. He froze, shaking in anger.
He took a deep breath, and let it all out in a big sigh. “Tantrums are unbecoming for a Lord. I’m not strong enough to continue this exploration. I’ll need to find some help. Luckily, I’m already installed at the best place to find some.” He turned his back on the city, and started the long trek home, taking measured breaths the whole way.
“Tantrums are unbecoming for a Lord… Tantrums are unbecoming for a Lord… Huu…”
-=-<^>-=-
The next few days saw Will’s party take to the training grounds with their new skills and tools. A few days into their training, on a day with few others using the space, they sat resting off to the side. Annette, as usual, had set up her travel tea set to make a batch of tea laced with restorative honey, alongside wax cubes filled with honey for a treat.
“Sorry about the tea. I ran out of the leaves I brought with me, and I’ve been using local blends… They can be a bit bitter.”
Gerald waved his hand at her. “Nothing to apologize for, the honey masks the bitterness well.”
Beside him, Will nodded. “Yeah, and it helps us recover faster! I tell ya, my master used to make tea and it was just– ugh,” he said, shuddering. “I haven’t had tea I actually like until meeting you.”
Nina, popping a few too honey cubes into her mouth just said: “Ish shweet!”
Annette giggled. “I’m happy to hear that. So…” she said, setting her cup down. Her heart fluttered in trepidation. “I’ve been meaning to ask. We’ve finished the job that Will’s dad asked of us. What’s next for us?”
Will blinked at her, before grinning and quickly rifling through his pack. “Oh! Yes! I’ve been looking around at the other Domains in the area, as well as the kinds of monsters and jobs that usually show up. That last Domain was a little rough for our first delve together, so I’m putting together a list of more fun options for our next job! Now let me tell you in detail about all of them.”
Annette, shocked at an unexpected answer and the enthusiasm it was delivered with, was startled as Nina tapped her leg, leaning close. “Did you think the party was disbanding?” The younger woman whispered.
She nodded, feeling her cheeks redden. “Was– did I miss something obvious?”
Nina just shrugged. “I don’t know, but we took the job because Gerald said it was a ‘classic party meet-cute’ job.”
“A ‘meet-cute’?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I think Will’s dad basically wanted to form a long-term party for his kid without making it obvious? That’s how Gerald explained it at least. He’s pretty smart about those things,” and she glanced at Will, still going on about ideas for their next job, “but he isn’t.”
Annette chuckled, feeling a weight fall off her shoulders. “He really isn’t.”
Across their little gathering, Gerald raised his teacup to Annette, a knowing look in his eyes. Reaching into Will’s growing clutter of papers and notebooks, he grabbed out a slim guide. “How about this one? I promised a certain someone an easy Domain for our next delve.”
Will grabbed the book, taking a look at cover. He grinned. “Yeah! A nice, standard Domain sounds like a good change of pace.”
-=-<^>-=-
Elsewhere
A certain receptionist sat behind his desk, fist clenching and unclenching as he stared at the person across from him. He barely processed their words.
This one is… too punchable.