Despite having looked at and even made maps, I don’t know much about Crux beyond what its terrain looks like from above and that there’s an academy there. It’s another domain in this system, 60 kilometers across as opposed to Tempest’s 80 kilometer diameter. (Yes, I’m trying to get used to kilometers because the system in my brain uses metric for whatever reason.)
If these visitors are any indication of what I might encounter at Crux Academy, I’m suddenly not so sure that I want to go.
At first, they’re a pleasant novelty. The accordion player has a high enough Mechanics (Accordion) skill to brag about it, but it still gets tiresome hearing accordion music in the village square for an extended period of time. The clown, who is the least hideously dressed one here, probably has some sort of Tending (Making Children Smile) skill, but it doesn’t work on me.
The lack of a pre-built stage is not a problem for them. They have stagehands who probably know Crafting (Instantly Set Up a Stage) or something. They instantly set up a stage in the green between the school and guest house, where we usually do outdoor parties like the Winter Festival. The big tree isn’t decorated at the moment, but serves as a backdrop, or sidedrop as the case may be.
I’m curious to see what they’re planning. I haven’t seen a play in this world before. I have to wonder how much magic they’ll employ, or weird skills that might as well be magic.
The skymotes are hanging orange against the green sky as they’re getting ready to begin, with a juggler entertaining people who have arrived early. It’s not like it’s a large village, though, so everyone who cares is probably already here.
The stage hands unfold a folding thing and spread it out behind the stage and a bit to the sides for good measure. The back is covered with sigils, and once they’ve got it set up, colors spread out across the screen like a giant TV and I want one.
The scene the screen settles on is animated, though not greatly so. In an imaginary city street, a blue banner flutters and a tavern sign swings.
Thankfully, the actors’ costumes involve no paisley at all. They wear rough and rugged clothing suitable for poor townsfolk and haughty nobles.
The play is a musical and involves everyone bursting into song every five minutes. There’s a plot involving a runaway princess falling in love with some random vagabond. She winds up pregnant (with an incredibly unconvincing fake pregnant belly) and decides to return to her Hearth. They have a tearful goodbye as wanderlust is calling him back to the road. Back at the Hearth, her mom and aunts celebrate princess’s pregnancy, who then sings a wistful solo as the image of a curtain closing displays on the screen behind her.
Jasper approaches me, singling me out as the one who he briefly spoke with at the docking tower. “What did you think of the show, little man?”
I pause for a moment then say honestly, “I like the screen.”
Jasper laughs. “Well, maybe if you ask nicely, they’ll let you take a closer look at it.”
I go ask nicely and the stage Wizards let me take a look at it so long as I stay out of the way while they’re working.
“You planning on being a Wizard, kid?” asks one of the actors. His noble costume is half off, leaving him in just the underclothes, and he’s smoking a wooden pipe. (I’m not sure what’s in his pipe, but the smoke is magenta.)
“I’m planning on learning Wizardry,” I say. “I want to build stuff like this!”
The smoking actor chuckles and says, “Well, work hard and you’ll get there, I’m sure.”
----------------------------------------
Come morning, I’m at the workshop practicing drawing. My Crafting (Drafting) skill needs levels, and doing bad drawings of tableware for goblins hasn’t gotten me any yet. I’m drawing up diagrams of simple machines now. Maybe the goblins have already figured out how leverage works.
Aside from the existence of psychic powers, reality-altering crystal aliens, and ‘flat earth’ style gravity, the normal laws of physics seem to apply. While that’s a lot of exceptions, I would have noticed by now if gravity weren’t at least pretending to be normal, even if it’s as obviously artificial as it would be on a starship. These domains are basically just highly advanced space habitats and not actual planets, after all. They’re perfectly circular, so it’s not like they’re even pretending to be natural.
And if gravity—
A creaking sound behind me interrupts my musings on the concept of gravity. The back door to the workshop is ajar, and there’s a figure that I would not have seen at all if it weren’t for [Aura Sight].
Category Person Race Human Gender Male Rank Elite
I also get the distinct sense that this is an outsider. Not an aura that feels familiar. I’ve examined the auras of everyone who lives in or regularly visits Corwen by now, and this one feels more like the traveling performers who just arrived.
Your Clairvoyance (Aura Sight) skill has increased to level 4.
I try to send a party message to Anise, but she’s out of range. Ugh. I know I can increase the range, but it would probably cause Sanity damage. I’ll have to take it. After all, I certainly wasn’t within ten meters of that black hole—
My vis dives toward the event horizon, unaffected by the crushing gravity of the collapsed star. It doesn’t exist on the same level of reality as normal matter, after all. But sometimes it can open a door…
Your Recollection (Flashback) skill has increased to level 2. Your Clairvoyance (Telepathy) skill has increased to level 2. Sanity: 4/10
The message goes through. [One of the outsiders snuck into the workshop with stealth skills up.] I also pass along the status screen.
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That wasn’t so bad. I definitely didn’t discover anything inside that black hole that will haunt me for eternity.
I pretend very hard to be oblivious, although anyone paying any attention will notice that I’ve just been staring intently at my paper, probably while making weird faces.
Your Subterfuge (Acting) skill has increased to level 4.
I notice my mom approaching the door, and tell her, [He’s behind that cabinet.]
Anise raises a hand, and an orb of all-revealing light bursts into existence on her palm, dazzling both me and the intruder.
“What’s this?” Anise says, apparently unaffected by her own spell. “How old are you, kid? Twelve, thirteen?”
“Thirteen,” cracks a boy’s voice, followed by a flop as he falls to his knees. “Please don’t hurt me, lady!”
“What are you doing in here?” Anise asks. “Corwen, why did I have to cast a spell to show me how ridiculous your outfit is? How do you sneak around in that? Why don’t you wear all black like a normal person?”
“Mom,” I say.
“Right,” Anise says. “What are you doing in here?”
“N-nothing,” the boy says. “I was just… exploring the village.”
“Okay, you don’t have nearly enough levels in Subterfuge (Blatant Lies) for me to believe that,” Anise says. “Don’t make me use Persuasion (Mom Look) on you.”
“No, anything but that!” the boy pleads. “My name is Dirk Kelso Crux. Look, I had a quest! And I need to raise some more skills before I turn fourteen!”
Anise sighs and rolls her eyes. “Having a quest doesn’t mean bearing no responsibility for your own actions. The best rewards come from taking risks, but risks aren’t risks if you can’t fail. You failed. Own up. What did you come in here for?”
Dirk mutters something incomprehensible, spoken rapidly and quietly.
“I can’t hear you, Dirk,” Anise says. “Speak up.”
“I was supposed to steal sigil ink for my mask,” Dirk says quickly.
“Were you supposed to steal it specifically, or just acquire it?” Anise asks. “Not that it matters. You got caught. Quest failed. Don’t try again. Shoo, before I cut off a hand or something.”
Dirk swiftly absconds, very nearly face-planting in his haste to get out the back door.
“Do we do that around here?” I wonder.
“Nah,” Anise says. “But he doesn’t know that. You okay?”
“Just Sanity damage from stretching my [Telepathy] range,” I say. “No big deal.”
“No big deal, he says,” Anise says with a snort. “Let’s get you some tea. I hope you at least got some skill levels out of that.”
We head into the Hearth and Aunt Myrtle gives me some warm tea while Anise informs Grandma Laurel what happened in the workshop.
“Do you think he’ll try again?” I wonder.
“Who knows?” Grandma Laurel says. “I’ll have Heather keep an eye on him and go have a chat with Jasper. I’m interested in knowing whether Jasper is aware of what his nephew is doing.”
With my Sanity meter topped off again, I get back to the drawing board. Where was I… something about gravity? Meh, my mind was probably just wandering anyway. I’m just going to draw a house. I can probably get an [Architecture] skill without having to actually build one. I’ll probably need to draw a bunch of houses, though.
I’m in the middle of sketching my third house when footsteps approach, this time not trying to be stealthy. Grandma Laurel is here, accompanied by Jasper.
“Ah, young Drake,” Jasper says. “I’ve been told you were the one who caught my naughty nephew in the act. I wish to sincerely apologize for his actions. I would not have we Kelsos to be thought of as mere thieves and vagabonds.”
I open my mouth, but before I can answer, Jasper swoops in to crane his neck over my shoulder at what I’ve been working on.
“My, what a talented young artist!” Jasper says. “When Dirk was your age, he certainly couldn’t draw a straight line.”
“Thank y—”
“Why don’t I make it up to you by giving you a tour of my skyship?” Jasper says. “Have you had a chance to see one up close? Stroll across the deck?” At my head shake, he’s already practically dragging me off.
“Hey!” Grandma Laurel says. “You’re not kidnapping my grandson right in front of me.”
While I don’t mind visiting their ship, I’m glad to have Grandma Laurel around to chaperone. They definitely won’t try anything with a Legendary adventurer standing behind me, I’m sure.
We climb the docking tower and board the ship. Every wall is splashed with different colors, and the furnishings are plush and lavish with tassels and lace. A heavy, tangy smoke clings to everything and lingers in the cabins and weirdly interferes with my [Aura Sight] a little, not blocking it entirely but reducing the usable range.
Jasper introduces me to his equally colorful crewmates, whose names I immediately forget. This includes an aranea, and let me tell you, it’s wrong to see a giant spider wearing a paisley dress. The blue and orange swirls do nothing to complement her carapace.
I do take the opportunity to examine the aura of an aranea and see what differentiates it from a human and goblin.
Category Person Race Aranea Gender Female Rank Heroic
“Now, I apologize that we have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Jasper is still running his mouth. “I have great respect for the Hearths of Tempest. It can’t be easy raising children to revere their cores and live in your Hearth all the time, rather than merely visiting it once a week or when one is in great spiritual distress.”
“Dirk said he had a quest,” I say.
“Ah, the tendency of the young to excuse their misdeeds with claims that they had a quest to do it,” Jasper says. “Haven’t you ever lied about having a quest to try to wriggle your way out of punishment before, little one?”
“I don’t get quests,” I say.
“I’m sure you’ll start getting them once you turn seven,” Jasper says. “Don’t worry. Your core surely has grand plans for you.”
I turn to the spider, finding her very likely far more interesting than Jasper. “Hello, lady spider! Do aranea have Hearths too?”
“Yes, but we call them colonies,” says the aranea.
“I’ve met two aranea on skyships so far,” I say. “Is that common?”
“Oh, yes,” the aranea says. “Our silk is especially good for catching aether currents and we can always manipulate our own silk best. It doesn’t stop others from trying, but most humans seem content to rely on our talents.”
I make a mental note to look more closely into aranea when I get the chance, but right now I’m being ushered along on this tour. Oh goodie, it’s the costume room. Does he really think I’d rather play dress-up than look at the guts of the ship? Just because all my clothes are made of black wool.
A voice from the deck saves me from having a purple hat with a long, multicolored feather dropped on my head. Grandma Laurel and I follow Jasper up to the deck. On top of the tower, Anise is holding on to a fidgeting Dirk, and next to her is Aunt Heather with her arms folded across her chest.
“Heyyy,” Anise says. “Look who we found trying to get into the sigil ink storage while you had Grandma Laurel’s attention. I certainly hope you weren’t trying to pull a two-man con here with your nephew’s plausible deniability.”
“I would never dare!” Jasper says, putting on an exaggerated air of innocence.
“Please confine this kid to your ship,” Aunt Heather says. “He is no longer welcome in the village. As for the rest of you, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, but you’re not getting another warning. Behave, or leave. If you want the wool we’re paying you for your performances, then I want no more trouble from any of you.”
Aunt Heather is scary when she’s annoyed at someone. It’s usually Grandma Laurel who seems more threatening, as the more combat-oriented class, but the Oracle knows… well, I’m not actually sure how must she knows because I have no idea how Divination works compared to Clairvoyance.