Mount the turret.
Mow them down, or they’ll put dad in danger.
You are to do as ordered.
Luke’s eyes snapped open. He awoke to the sound of his gasping for air. He whipped his head around, taking in the foreign room he found himself in. Slowly, he steadied his breath. A dim light shone through half-closed glass windows—the air smelt of rainwater.
This isn’t good. It’s coming back more often.
He felt the back of his neck, slick with sweat, cooled slightly with Wayfinder’s chain. Before opening his mouth, Luke listened carefully.
“No one’s around, but just in case…” Luke removed the black cloth sheets trimmed with yellow covering his body and stepped onto the chilly oakwood flooring. He staggered over to the door; it had a knob made out of black metal. Luke turned it and poked his head out.
A long hallway furnished with scant furniture, paintings on the walls, and glowing mage light entered his vision. After looking both ways, Luke closed the door.
“Wayfinder, you awake?”
Wayfinder soundlessly shook to show he was listening.
Luke set sight on Xera. She was laid against the foot of the bed, far enough away to allow him to sleep without bumping her position.
“Xera. I’m severely disappointed in you. I know what you do isn’t intentional to hurt or harm the group. But that doesn’t mean the danger from your actions goes away."
“Disappointed in me? Why? What did I do? I’ve been forming whichever way you want, without complaint. I thought that was enough-”
“Xera.” Luke interrupted. He stared at the sword wand, letting the silence settle.
“Talking to others without consulting me first is dangerous. The outbursts around multiple groups. At this rate, you’ll get me killed. Don’t make excuses. You’re better than that. No, you’ll have to be better than that.”
“How would that kill you? It was a harmless conversation with a nice elf lady. Being silent forever doesn’t work for me. It’s in my nature, forged into me, you know that!” Xera defended herself.
Tapping his cheek, Luke said, “Wayfinder, was your personality molded into you as well when you were created?”
“Aye, it was, but time and experience let me change. Much like a human, part of who you are is born with you, but the rest is up to your own way.”
“I figured.” Luke stood in thought. Eventually, he moved over to Xera and set his eyes on her crystal.
“Thinking on it. Xera, I stopped trying to put you in the Inventory, even when it put my life in danger because I’ve grown to understand you more through wielding you. Sometimes, those thoughts you hide leak out. I don’t mention it out of respect, but they reveal themselves all the same.”
Luke breathed out, closed his eyes, and reopened them, “You’re broken ins-”
Panicked, Xera tried to interrupt Luke, “I’m not broken, I’m perfectly whole. In fact, I’m a perfect sword-wand, the best one! Nothing is wrong with me, I’m…the…the…” her voice cracked.
“It’s okay, Xera. You and I are quite similar, only that we changed differently from the same thing. Isolation. For you, it must’ve been so much worse, decades at a time, sitting in a dark chest, waiting, waiting, and then waiting some more. The dark, your only company, the devil whispering in the back of your mind.”
Luke felt his feet press against the oakwood flooring. His mouth dried.
“You know by now that Sooty and I were alone on Earth for a year. That damaged me in ways I’m still coming to terms with. Sooty never seemed to care, but people are social animals, something I can’t ignore.” Luke’s hands shook, “For me, I became withdrawn, distrustful, a man with a mask. You, on the other hand, are desperate to speak to anyone, to form a connection. To tell the other voice to go away.”
Xera began to shake against the bed, the sword wand tumbling back and forth, with unstated fear being so plainly exposed, she said, “Please, don’t leave, I’ll change, I’ll…”
“I will never abandon you, Xera—no need to reveal it if you can’t bring yourself to. You’ve gone insane from loneliness, as I did. I know that you’re afraid. You’ll do whatever it takes to avoid that dark place, to cut that part away.”
Luke got up, “Never doubt that we’re partners now. Grow, Xera, so that we can both be truly free. Fight those whispers that leak out to me. I’m unsure how to help you, but I’ll stick by you.”
The Reaver got up and turned away. He keep his last thought to himself.
Because I remember how grateful I was when Sooty stuck by me.
Inspecting the room again, there was a chest, a chair, and, not including the way out, two closed doors. Eager to get off the topic, Luke said, “Where is Sooty?”
“She went with her new friend,” Xera said, a bit of shakiness in her voice.
“The feathered death-dealer flew through that window with the poofy owl an hour ago. Once she was sure you were recovered,” Wayfinder said.
Feeling the connection through Reaver’s Link, Sooty was healthy and hale, likely flying around with Lulu. He took out all his combat gear from the Inventory and used some of the spray to clean it off. Using the equip function, he put the gear on in no time at all. Luke relaxed, patting Xera to reassure her. He sat next to the sword wand.
“Time we sort the last spoils from the Beast Divide. Everything came so fast after taking down Wenla that I never got a chance to slow down and look.”
“She was feisty but awfully unaware when it came to protecting her neck; more slashes for me!” Xera had recovered, returning to her outer persona.
Relieved that Xera was the type to bounce back, Luke skimmed through the Interface log.
[Xera, the Sword Wand, has reached level 25. Remaining experience gain applied to Wayfinder]
Unfortunately, Wayfinder remained at level ten. Luke presumed Xera sucked up most experience gain to jump up to level twenty five. The leftover remnants wouldn’t cover Wayfinder’s exaggerated needs.
[You have stolen 91 Health, 10 Strength, 12 Intellect, and 15 Agility]
Facing off two boss-type creatures came with this benefit. While their wolf-pack barely passed muster to grow him, Wenla and Amarok’s stats were ripe for the taking.
[You have looted 9 snow-wolf meat, 8 wolf livers, 15 snow-wolf coats, 20 snow-wolf fangs, and Amarok’s Concealed Hood]
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[You have been rewarded the exceptional quality skill book: Siphon]
Luke barely contained his excitement reading that message. He sorely desired to fill out the missing skill slots he had. Leaving aside the piece of gear Amarok dropped, he inspected the Siphon skill book.
[Exceptional Active Skill: Siphon]
Siphon: Place a draining mark on target enemy. Steals a minor amount of stamina from target every second. Stackable, refreshes duration if target experiences direct damage of 10% or more to their health. Considered an Essence debuff. Current stack limit of one. Duration: 2 seconds. Cost: 20 Essence
Cooldown: 30 seconds (cannot be reduced)
Requires Essence-Based Combat Class: Enhancer, Bloodmancer, Astralist, Necromancer, Essence Reaver
“What an utterly underwhelming ability.” Luke became disappointed before sinking into further thought. He tapped on Wayfinder, “What do you know about skill books, Wayfinder? This one called Siphon is rather weak.”
Wayfinder spun his needle toward Luke, “Don’t tap me. Might smudge me shiny casing. Now, to answer your question, those skill books are a fickle lot. To what I’ve laid me glorious sights on, they reach up to epic quality.”
“What’s the difference between the qualities? Exceptional must be rather high, right?” Luke began to make his bed.
“Considerin’ it’s a step below epic, you’ve hit the mark. They start at common, which rewards the most ordinarily obtained skills for a particular class. Up to rare, they reward abilities that are possible to learn through the Interface naturally, if the Interface decides to assign it, of course.”
“Rare skill books give skills I can learn during the leveling process? You’d think it’d do more than that,” Luke wondered.
“A rare skill book would give a skill for one class, the difference being it’s one you scarcely earn through the Interface. Their already inflated values skyrocket at exceptional quality. Rather than be suited for one or two classes, they often are suited to a type, an ability you can only learn through a skill book. The Interface will never let you naturally get your grubby fingers on that kind of skill,” Wayfinder explained the nuance.
“This Siphon ability is unobtainable normally then…what about epic quality skill books?”
“This entire city would go into an uproar over such a specimen. It’s directly useful to third tiers and above. They immediately teach an ability to the third tier but cost thirty skill points for it, a bargain accordin’ to me. Much like the exceptional sort, it’s an ability you can only learn through skill books, usually referred to as an ‘apex’ skill.”
Luke double-checked his skill point pool, currently sitting at twenty-three. Trying to understand, he said, “Did you say a thirty-skill point cost was a bargain?”
"Aye, it is; if we go that far, lad, you’ll understand then. Now, show me the skill book, no other reason you’d be askin’ so much about them otherwise.”
“Me too! Me too! I want to see.” Xera added in.
Happy to placate his artifacts, Luke took out the Siphon skill book out the Inventory. Awkwardly holding the book before the two of them, he asked, “Does it show you a screen about it, too? I’ve always wondered that about the two of you.”
“Those blue boxes? The writing is always in purple for me; how lovely. I don’t see it too often, and never what you see unless you share it directly like this.”
The writing is in purple? Does the Interface personalize its settings some? It’s usually in silver for me.
“The fancy boxes serve me in green or gold to my taste. The limits for meself are the same as wand sword lassie.”
Shifting his weight on the bed, Luke said, “What do you two think? Worth learning? It would take my final active skill slot. Can I unlearn it?”
Behind Luke, near the window sill, a certain elf woman’s voice called out, “No, you can’t.”
Spinning his head back, Luke saw Iona, who had apparently invited herself into his room through the half-open window.
“What did you hear?” Luke slanted his eyes; this woman had escaped his senses twice.
“Luke, my new fellow Defier, it’s useless to hide that the compass is an artifact from me. Xera revealed herself, and I can’t blame the compass for being more prudent; in fact, it’s the best choice in most cases.” She rested her chin against her palms while swinging her legs.
Luke scanned the elf woman before him. This lady was far out of his reach. She felt above what that assassin displayed yesterday. With that stone wall, he sighed, “Then what should I do, Iona? My compass artifact told me multiple times plenty of people would kill me to take him.”
Iona twirled her long locks with an Index finger, “He’s right. Outside the Defier’s guild, you should conceal him as best you can, but here? You can’t hide those two from any Defier. Anyone with high perception is going to see what they are sooner or later.”
The Beastmaster swung herself up and walked to the door, opening it, “Come out to the kitchens for breakfast. We’ll talk more there.” She displayed confident eyes and a half-formed smile, “Could give you guidance on that skill book too if you want, more than the forgotten compass, Wayfinder, ever could.”
Thump. Thump. Thump. Luke’s heart beat uncontrollably. This woman read the situation even better than Veyri did.
How did she know his name? I made sure not to say it.
Iona laughed, “Always so cold, don’t you worry. Even if you weren’t a Defier, I wouldn’t stoop so low as to hurt someone who gave Lulu a new friend. See you soon, Luke.”
The elf opened the door and left; Luke could hear her steps meandering down the hallway.
Breathing to calm down for a moment, Luke said, “The amount of things this world throws at me is getting on my nerves.”
Shaking his head and taking deep breaths for a minute, Luke spoke to Xera.
“I’ll apologize to you, Xera, still think it was better to stay quiet to be sure, but it’s all out in the open.” He scrutinized his sword wand, “You can speak, but only to Iona, and ideally with none of the servants around. Wayfinder, you seem to know when it’s okay to and not, do what you feel is best.”
Wayfinder opened his clasp and closed it, perhaps being extra careful anyway.
“Yay! I’ll have tons of conversations with the stealthy elf lady. How come Wayfinder gets free reign?”
“He speaks less than you do around others, that’s why. Alright, enough talking. I’m going to wash up, take a look at the last item, then eat.”
Rumble. Luke’s stomach clearly demanded attention. In this room he found himself in, not including the door to leave, it had two others. Both were made of black and red wood. The handles were made of white crystal.
Luke opened one up to reveal a closet. Shutting it for now, he opened the other, a well-stocked bathroom made of a mix of metal, crystal, and porcelain laid within. Two mage lights were beside the small mirror in the middle. The floor was plain wood, although stained with sealer and water repellent.
Taking off Wayfinder but keeping him in the bathroom, Luke put a towel over the compass. The Reaver quickly washed off with a shower, brushed with crystal paste, and all other everyday morning wash routines you’d expect.
Once he was spic and span, he re-wore his combat gear, put on Wayfinder, and equipped Xera. Sooty had yet to return. Stepping out to the hallway, Luke took note of the room number.
103, the irony.
Before he forgot, Luke read the tooltip for Amarok’s Concealed Hood while closing the door behind him. Displayed was a white fur hood with a scar on its left side.
[Amarok’s Concealed Hood]
Quality: Rare
Armor: 5
Stats: +8 Agility +8 Intellect
Passive - Amarok’s eye: Marks a target you consider threatening and heightens your perception against them by 20%. Three-minute internal cooldown.
Required Level: 22
May you always guard the pack, young wolf.
Luke swapped this in his helm slot in the equipment panel. He placed his old piece of gear, the crimson hood, in the Inventory. The sturdy white fur hood settled nicely on his head. It turned invisible once he collapsed it down to hang against his neck.
“Must be where the ‘concealed’ part comes from.”
The Reaver walked carefully down the hallway, enjoying the art framed on its walls. Most were scenic pictures of nature, majestic beasts, or simplistic symbols. At the end of the hall was a transparent barrier. Perplexed, Luke stepped through, feeling some sort of scan. The barrier flashed green, and he was able to pass by.
He recognized where he was: the main hall of the Defier’s branch. He stood near the back right corner of the room Luke first came into, away from the reception desk. He saw Iona waving him over. She sat on a table you could see through another entrance into the kitchen section of the halls.
Rumble. With his stomach’s timely reminder, Luke hurried over, passed the entrance, and took in the kitchens. Several heavenly smells, such as braised meat, eggs, fried potatoes, and something similar to coffee, swirled into a wonderful aroma. A buffet-style selection presented itself, and only a short line of servants partook in the food. Iona reserved a table to herself; the servants arranged themselves at tables around her but not at the one she sat in.
Luke got in line, but the servants seemed uncomfortable. The Reaver chalked it up to them adjusting to a new face. He kept to himself, picking up a tray, silverware, and blue ceramic plates. Shutting out the murmurs, he picked out eggs, slices of bread, fruits, and green vegetables. He filled up two glasses with juice and water. Settling down opposite Iona, he asked her a question.
“Why are the servants looking at me with discomfort?”
“You did their job for them. They’re supposed to serve you, after all,” Iona tapped her fingers against the wooden table.
“Oh.” Luke eagerly dug into the food after fake remorse. The Reaver hurriedly ate his meal, during which Timber lumbered into the dining area with two familiar birds on his back. He sat down next to the table, and Iona instructed servants to get Timber, Lulu, and Sooty a proper meal.
Once meal time was adequately settled, Iona prodded Luke, “It’s time we continue our conversation from yesterday, Luke.”