Russ sat numbly, staring blankly at the wall. When Imri impressed upon them how powerful the collective intelligence was, everyone, including Russ, agreed it was best to stay in their good graces. When Russ resigned himself to that fact, he received the quest failure notification and lost his class.

Every level just disappeared as if it had never existed. He had slowly worked his way up, becoming one of Celestia’s elites. While he hadn’t been on Imri or Zhaire’s level, it had been impressive, and he even started to hope he had gained enough power that he would be able to start venturing out into the world with the ability to defend himself. All of that was gone.

For the next few weeks, Russ numbly went through the motions. While he still had his profession as a Lawyer, the day-to-day operations of a small town weren’t exactly challenging. Where once he had been excited about growing his business and rebuilding what he could of his life, now there was only apathy. He had lost interest in discovering the minutia of how the system-enforced contracts could be used. Instead, he just worked mechanically, doing the bare minimum each day. His progress reflected his shoddy work, awarding him only a single level for weeks of work.

As soon as he finished his work for the day, he made his way to the tavern. While alcohol was prohibitively expensive due to the shortage of supply, Russ had no qualms over spending every last credit he earned on it. He drank until he was cut off, then stumbled back to his home. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to bring on oblivion.

Each night, he slept fitfully, his nights filled with dreams of losing his family. Sometimes, it was amorphous monsters who slew his entire family and then proceeded to feast on their bodies. Other times, the Chixel sacrificed each of his four children, one at a time, while he helplessly watched. Perhaps worst of all, when his family returned to him, their eyes vacant of their usual spark as they were puppeteered by the Azala.

Eventually, after several nights of almost no restful sleep, Russ made his way to the clinic. It was overcrowded with refugees, the small building having only been built to accommodate a more modest population when they had first settled in the area.

Most of the staff, including Emelia, were among the original group who had started the camp. They had all been working together in a hospital when the integration happened and had somehow found a way back together. It made Russ wonder if he had been at home when the integration occurred, would his entire family be back together?

“Russ, is everything alright?” Emelia asked as she rushed to his side. Russ just shook his head.

She nodded and led him to a private room. It appeared more modern than he had expected. While it lacked many of the instruments of a modern medical facility, it was clear that the room was clean and well-maintained.

“You’re working as a nurse?” Russ asked in confusion when she began taking his vitals, just like it had been done before the integration.

“That’s what I did before the integration, and that’s what I’m still doing now,” she said with her ever-cheerful smile that would have seemed fake on anyone else. It almost annoyed Russ in his current state.

“You can’t just use magic to solve the problem? And I thought you didn’t gain the Nurse profession from the system?” he asked. Emelia just laughed lightly at that.

“My spells are a tool, just like anything else. It might be a powerful tool, but it can’t solve every problem. The nurse profession would be nice, but levels aren’t everything; people managed to be nurses without levels for most of human history,” she said.

“I thought you could change people’s emotions? Can’t you just get rid of them?” Russ asked.

“No,” Emelia said, shaking her vehemently. “Even if I could change people’s emotions permanently, I’m not sure if that is a good idea. I think it's important to work through your grief, even though it's painful.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Just keep living like this?” Russ said, his voice so faint Emelia was visually leaning in to catch his words.

“You could talk to someone. We don’t have any trained psychiatrists, but Dr. Thompson has been helping people with their trauma,” Emelia said.

“Whatever,” Russ said.

Emelia just nodded and finished taking his vitals, recording them on a piece of paper. When that was done, she pulled out another notebook.

“It looks like Dr. Thompson is booked out for the rest of the month. I can schedule you for an appointment next month,” she said.

Russ sighed, “Don’t bother.”

“I know it's a long way out, but I strongly recommend it. In the meantime, you could talk to Christoph; I know you two were friends before the integration.”

“Maybe,” he said non-committally.

“Do you want me to let you know if anything opens up? We’re also vetting people to get a second therapist, and hopefully that will help,” she said.

“I guess,” he said with a shrug.

“Hang in there, Russ,” she said.

Feeling defeated, Russ made his way home. Despite it being the middle of the day, he slept. He awoke in the late afternoon, and instead of eating anything, he made his way to the tavern.

Unfortunately, the tavern was crowded, as it always was. If it weren’t the only place to get a drink, Russ would have avoided it. He ordered a whiskey, which wasn’t his drink of choice but was the only thing the bar had in stock.

He was on his second drink when the portly figure of Christoph plopped himself in the seat across the table. “It's always so hard to find a spot in here. Do you mind if I sit?” the former real estate mogul and his nemesis said.

While the tavern was crowded, there were empty tables. Russ was about to point that out, but the fast-talking entrepreneur didn’t give him a chance.

“What’s good here, and don’t tell me the Drake. I hear someone is working on domesticating the Razorgrass Boars. What I wouldn’t do for a good pork chop and a glass of red wine,” the gluttonous man said.

“What do you want, Christoph?” Russ glowered.

“Can’t a man share a meal with a friend?” Christoph said.

“We were rivals, not friends,” Russ pointed out.

“Anyone good enough to be my rival is good enough to be my friend,” Christoph said.

“Did Emelia put you up to this?” Russ asked.

“We’re all worried about you,” Christoph said.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“Don’t bother,” Russ said.

“Have you been to the healing spring recently?” Christoph asked.

“I’m fine,” Russ lied.

“It’s quite impressive. Some people even claim it can heal the body, mind, and soul. While I doubt it will solve all your problems, it is worth a try,” Christoph suggested.

“If I say I will go, will you leave me alone?” Russ asked.

“If that’s what you want,” Christoph said.

“It is,” Russ insisted. Christoph nodded and left him.

Russ ignored the man's advice. However, each of the following days, Christoph inevitably showed up at his table shortly after Russ had had his first drink of the night. The conversations all played out similarly, with Christoph refusing to leave until Russ promised he would go to the healing spring. After the fourth day in a row, Russ again promised he would visit the spring, but this time, he meant it, if only to get the insistent man to leave him alone.

When he did go, he was amazed at what he saw. A small camp had formed near the plateau's edge, only a couple hundred meters from the path leading to the spring. Already, there were more people here than when Celestia was first founded. Most people still lived out of tents, but two buildings were under construction.

The first building was the more straightforward of the two. It appeared to be some sort of housing complex, either an apartment building or an inn, with the framework of several stories already erected. The second building was less straightforward, appearing to be some kind of temple. It had Japanese-style architecture, appearing like a pagoda with several completed levels and more currently being constructed.

Near the temple was a well-manicured garden with a gentle stream and still pond, with a small island at its center. A bridge led to the island, which had a simple shrine at its center. People walked through the tranquil garden, which was quiet and serene. Many of them looked to be newly arrived refugees, wearing threadbare system-granted clothing or ill-fitting garb that had been looted. However, interspersed among them were people dressed in simple robes that reassembled the system-granted ones but were lighter and too well made.

“Welcome, visitor,” an older man said. His face and head were clean-shaven, and he wore the same simple but well-made robe.

“What is this place?” Russ asked.

“It is a place of healing and peace. Eventually, it will be a temple to the Edea, Goddess of peace and serenity,” the man, a monk Russ presumed, explained.

“And you just started worshiping this Goddess, just like that? Is she some sort of Buddhist, or is that just cultural appropriation?” Russ asked.

“Walk with me,” the monk said, ignoring the barbed questions.

For some reason, Russ found himself following the man as if subconsciously. They walked in silence for a time, simply observing the well-maintained scenery. A bit of the anger Russ had felt slowly dissipated.

“We did not find the Goddess Edea, but she found us. While I wouldn’t claim to be an expert on Buddhism, I think their teachings and those of Edea are similar in their conclusions,” the monk explained.

“And those are?” Russ asked.

“Put simply, you must have no desires to achieve total serenity,” the monk explained.

“That doesn’t sound so hard,” Russ said dismissively.

“Oh, and you could give up your desire to see your family again and live a life of quiet contemplation,” the monk suggested, somehow knowing exactly what Russ desired most.

“So what? I’m always going to be this miserable?” Russ asked.

“Just because you are not suited to becoming a monk doesn’t mean we can’t help ease your suffering,” the man explained. Without Russ realizing it, the man started leading him away from the garden and toward the spring.

“Does the water heal the mind and spirit?” Russ asked as they approached the spring.

“Oh, and those are separate things?” the monk asked.

“Yes,” Russ said immediately.

“It will not give you tranquility and peace of mind. As we already established, that is not your path, and doing so would cause you more harm than good,” the monk said.

“Then what’s the point?” Russ asked.

“I asked you about the body, mind, and spirit because they are separate yet not. While healing your body will not solve the problem, it will help you withstand your burdens,” the strange man said, gesturing towards the spring.

A partition had been built through the spring, separating it by gender. Temporary screens served as changing rooms, and a basin for water to wash was within. A simple sign explained the rules: people must wash before entering the hot spring, no clothing could be worn, and no talking above a whisper.

Russ did as he was told, following the rules before entering. As he entered, he noticed several attendants dressed in the same robes as the man who had led him here. They had their eyes closed in meditation, though Russ felt certain they were simultaneously watching over the spring somehow. Several other people were soaking in the miraculous water, seemingly content, with serene expressions that suggested their minds were elsewhere.

Russ did his best to ignore everyone. Feeling slightly self-conscious of his naked form, even though no one was paying him any mind, he quickly entered the water. He immediately felt the warmth against his skin and a tingling sensation throughout his body. At first, it was unpleasant, as if his skin was being bit by small insects, but it quickly subsided. Muscles ached as tension he hadn’t realized he had been holding was released, especially in his neck and on his face.

As if his physical body had been holding his emotions, they, too, came pouring out. Tears streamed down his face, and he sobbed uncontrollably. Images of his family flooded his mind, just like they had in his dreams. However, despite the anguish that typically accompanied the images, this time, he also felt resolve, a resolve to continue his search until he had his answer. The mental anguish and terror were still there, but he could bear the burden of it for a time.

He stayed in the water for a long while, expecting an attendant to come get him from the water, but none did. Eventually, when he felt like he could handle the burden again, he got out of the water.

When he had redressed himself and headed back towards the temple, he found the monk still waiting for him. Neither of them said anything, only nodding in respect to each other.

“You said Edea found you. Do you know how?” Russ asked.

“Just like any class, it requires an earnest desire but also faith and devotion,” the monk explained.

“Faith and devotion to what though?” Russ asked.

“Anything. There are likely as many gods as there are people on this planet, if not more. Each one represents a concept or ideal. What worship means will depend entirely on the god, but all require you to live by their ideal to gain levels and devotion points. Some, like Edea, will require peaceful meditation and living a tranquil life, while others might require action and deeds. One might want prayer in a massive gaudy temple, while another prefers untarnished and preserved nature,” the man explained.

Russ didn’t get drunk that night for the first time in several weeks. Instead, he considered the monk’s words, contemplating with a clear mind. Surely, if there was a god for each concept or ideal, he could devote himself to one that aligned with his goal.

The first thought that came into his head was the importance of family, of being together and helping each other. While that idea appealed to Russ, it was a peaceful ideal that he would have lived by in a more peaceful time. However, it wouldn’t necessarily help him find his family; worse, it could force him to move on and start a new one.

Next, he thought of raw power, gaining the ability to fight the invaders and carve a path to reunite people. This is similar to what he had been thinking when he had accepted the Ancient One’s pact. However, with the revelation that a myriad of paths were open to him, that seemed ill-suited. He didn’t necessarily care about being the strongest or most powerful person. Especially if all that power still didn’t help him know where to look.

That led him to knowledge. That was closer to what he needed but still wasn’t quite right. It conjured images of people like Imri and Caroline, spending hours pouring through various tomes and documents in glee. Also, when taken to an extreme, he might have the knowledge he needed but then be forced into inaction by the ideals of an erudite god who only sought knowledge and didn’t do anything with it.

Then, the idea clicked into place. He needed a god focused on seeking out what had been lost and retrieving it. He expected that concept to be followed by treasure hunters and explorers more than someone like him, but it made sense, given he would need much of the same skill set to find people.

As the concept firmed in his mind, Russ began to feel a presence. He let it in, accepting it to the core of his being. While the presence didn’t speak to him, Russ could feel its approval of his ideal and devotion.

Russ Nicholson has gained the class Acolyte of Aeyar, the Seeker Russ Nicholson has reached level 1 in Acolyte of Aeyar, the Seeker (1F)