A tapping sound wakes me. My pillow once more goes sailing into the window to spook the bird that is pecking my window, the same one that was pecking on it the day before. I groan, opting to fall out of my bed and onto the floor rather than get out of it like a normal person. The clink of metal hitting the floorboards snaps me fully awake. My hand launches out, fingers wrapping around a gold piece before it can roll too far away from my bed. Two other identical ones lay on the ground next to me, and I scoop them up as I stand.
Silver coins certainly feel nice against the fingers, but nothing quite beats gold. I flip one of the pieces into the air with my thumb, appreciating the ring of the metal as it pops up before catching it again in my hand. I have no idea what to make of the coins, one side of each is completely smooth whereas the other shows the head of a serpent. I’ve never had the chance to inspect the gold coins that the crown mints in Gale, but I doubt they look anything like the ones my ability creates.
“Galea,” I say. The dragon spirit manifests in front of me immediately. “Was the soul reinforcement successful?”
“Of course,” Galea says, showing me a message that confirms as much.
After the fight with the monster hounds the day before, I spent all of the rest of the day yesterday thinking about what had happened and how I should react to it. The good: my fire had been far more effective than I had anticipated against the hounds. From what I had experienced with the Desert Spearman, I had been expecting to have to spend five or more dragonfire bolts on each monster to put it down, but the rank zero monsters had gone up like candles the second the bolts hit them. The dragonfire was pretty effective against the rank one monsters as well. I have been watching Halford dismantle rank one monsters for so long, I had never really thought that I could do the same myself until yesterday. Certainly the “training” against the illusory monster Arabella pitted us against did very little to boost my confidence.
The bad: just one rank zero monster was enough to take me down and almost kill me. If Macille hadn’t been there to heal my torn up leg I think I probably would have bled out after a little bit. I might not know too much about adventurers, but they are typically expected not to die against rank zero monsters, which are basically just up-jumped animals. It only occurred to me after everything was said and done that I should have, I don’t know, tried to not let the thing bite me. I have been doing all of this running to presumably increase my speed attribute, but in the fight, all I did was stand still and let the first thing that attacked me succeed.
My final thoughts had been about how insane it was that my level increased three times from just one combat. Sure, we had managed to slaughter more than thirty monsters all at once, something Halford’s team had never done, but I had been training my ass off for more than a week and only managed a single level out of it. Arabella had said that the best way to reinforce the soul was to pit yourself against the will of another. I can’t really dispute that.
I study the effort values that I obtained for those three levels: +10 Magic, +8 Defense, +7 Recovery, +5 Vitality. I have to admit that it makes a good bit of sense. I used up all my magic to attack, was bitten and almost died, and then had to recover from all of that.
“We are going to go with this,” I tell Galea, distributing my free points.
I take a moment to study the black rectangle that displays my current attributes and quickly assign the thirty free between Magic, Speed, Vitality, and Recovery. After a few seconds and an explosion of light from my skin, the deed is done.
Charlene Devardem
Human(Level 2 → 5)(Rank 1)
Emperor Conflux
Attributes
Vitality: 7 → 20
Strength: 6 → 9
Magic: 16 → 39
Defense: 5 → 16
Magic Defense: 10 → 13
Speed: 12 → 25
Recovery: 20 → 38
Perception: 7 → 10
Presence: 0
Healing Points: 200
Mana: 390
Stamina: 166
Compared to the first time that I ever looked at my attributes, I am far stronger now, at least on paper…or whatever these messages that only I can see are made of. Strictly according to the numbers that are displayed, my strength attribute is three times higher than it was when I first started.
Deciding to get around to testing as to whether that is accurate or not, I toss the gold coins into a drawer and change into something I don’t mind getting a little sweaty. I slip out of my room and decide to first head to the kitchen to grab an apple or something before hitting the gymnasium.
“Does my strength being a nine now mean that I am actually three times stronger than I was two days ago?” I ask Galea as I navigate through the hallways.
“I can confirm that nine is in fact three times greater than three,” Galea says, floating along beside me.
“Very useful,” I say, blowing some hair out of my face. I use my fingers to try and comb my wild mane a bit as I keep walking. It isn’t the smoothest texture but compared to the springy ginger curls I had before, I adore the new weighty locks that slide around my fingers like water. I doubt the me from a month ago would ever believe the reflection that I see in the mirror now.
“I am here to serve, Mistress Charlene,” Galea says, giving me a bow as she floats backwards through the air at my shoulder.
Turning into the kitchen, I almost collide with Kendon coming out the other way. “I’m sorry,” I say as I jump back. I trip over the rug and I almost sprawl onto my ass but am saved from my embarrassment by Kendon as he takes a simple step forward and catches me with a well-muscled arm behind my back. He stands me back up as if it were nothing and smiles at me, taking a bite from the apple in his hand.
“I should be the one to apologize, I think,” he says between chews. “My mind was a hundred miles away.”
“Mine as well,” I say. “I don’t usually catch you in the kitchen.” I scoot around the man standing in the doorway, doing my utmost to keep as much space between us as possible. “I was starting to think that you don’t eat.”
“I eat,” he says, taking another bite. “I know I said it already, but good job yesterday. That was your first time really fighting a monster, right?”
I don’t remember him saying that yesterday, but I was probably just too distracted to notice. “Thank you,” I say. Looking around on the kitchen counters, I spy the fruit bowl and find that there are no longer any apples remaining in it. I look back to Kendon as he takes another bite from his apple. “I was saving that,” I say.
He looks at the apple in his hand and offers it to me. I shake my head. He shrugs and takes another bite. “It would probably have been better to save it in your room.”
I sigh, taking a strange fruit that is purple and slightly resembles a heart. The flesh is sour as I bite into it. Not that I mind sour, some pears are pretty sour, and they are my favorite. “I’ll be fine,” I say. “Are you going to the gymnasium?”
“No.” Kendon blows out a long breath. “Ms. Willian is giving me the day off to focus. She says she wants me to attempt the Rake Wyrm alone today.”
“Rake Wyrm?”
“The rank two monster that Coriander and I have been fighting in her illusion,” Kendon explains. He pauses. “Macille mentioned to me the big bug that you two fought together. It sounded a lot sturdier than ours. I wonder why Ms. Willian chose for us to face different monsters.”
“I don’t know,” I answer. “I assume there must be a reason to it. My fire isn’t very effective against it, perhaps that is why.”
“Perhaps,” he agrees. “You impressed me yesterday. To have only just become an essentia magician in truth and to be capable of killing two rank one monsters. That is something most humans cannot claim.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Although, Macille was holding them in place for me. I don’t think I could have done so on my own.”
“Most essentia magicians work to not be alone. Everyone’s abilities are so specific that they will inevitably leave gaps that can be exploited by others. That is the whole reason to have a team after all.”
“You’re right,” I agree. I take another bite of the strange fruit and savor the flavor for a moment longer. “I think that I am going to go ahead and get my training for the day out of the way.” I begin to walk toward the door. Kendon steps out of my way, just barely enough to allow me to pass by him while brushing his clothes.
“That is a good mindset,” he says.
“I hope to see you later,” I say, waving to him over my shoulder. “Good luck on your fight.”
“Good luck with your training!”
Entering the gymnasium, I find myself completely alone. The ever clear sky outside the high windows allows the room a natural illumination, and I can already spy a single difference in the room on the chalkboard at the back. Beneath my name, below the outlined daily routine that has not changed since the first day that I arrived here, there is a single line, “Come see me when you have finished -Arabella.”
“Interesting,” I say, walking over to the small area where weights of iron and steel stand, stacked and ready for use. I curl the steel bar a few times before trying to decide on the weight I want to add. It is lighter in my hands than ever before, but I still struggle to truly heft the awkward bar of metal.
For the next hour and a half, I test my strength, and I am left sweaty and smirking by the time that I have finished. No, despite the numbers saying so, I am not literally three times stronger than I was a few days ago, not even twice as strong really. I didn’t think I would be, but I had hoped. Still, I am not even breathing hard by the time that I finish the weight exercises, and the heavy weights that a few days ago I could barely lift with both hands are simple to throw around now.
A vision comes to me of myself a year from now after I have put all of the free points from my soul reinforcement into strength, pulling a tree from the ground by its roots and hurling it over the shed behind our house. I can’t help but smile at the thought, and though I know it would be a waste to even attempt to go that direction, I still like the fantasy.
The running is where my gains really show themselves. My strength is far greater than I had ever thought I would be able to achieve, but I finish the five miles set out in my daily exercise in under forty minutes. By the time that I am done, I am still able to keep my breathing even, and my stamina isn’t even below half of its maximum. Chalk scrapes noisily on the blackboard as I cross out the day’s exercises.
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I stop for a moment before leaving the room. I call dragonfire to my hand and watch as the orange fire rolls over my fingers like water. I check my mana, 330/350. There is twice as much mana inside of the flickering fire now than there was when I first gained this new power. I focus, standing there in the center of the gymnasium, pouring more and more mana into the fire as I watch its intensity and size expand in the center of my palm. The fire fries the air as it grows, the smell of burning is intoxicating. I begin to feel the pressure of the spell reaching its maximum after half a minute and check my mana once again, 300/350.
The fire feels heavy in my hand, not in any real sense of weight, but in its potency. I lack a tub of water to throw the fire into, so I walk to a window and winch it open with my free hand. I look out at the sea of clouds flying by below us and the open blue sky above the flying manor house. With a slow exhale, I put a foot up on the windowsill, and throw the fire out into the infinite air before me. As it has every time, the ball of orange fire flies as fast as an arrow into the distance, but unlike before, it continues for a long way. When the dragonfire reaches two-hundred feet, far past the lip of the manor’s floating foundation, I feel the spell reach its maximum distance and watch as it explodes in a dazzling display of orange chaos.
The explosion is nothing huge, just a momentary flash of fire as it expands and dissipates, but the feeling of watching my power erupt in a ball of destruction and feeling the faint lick of heat from so far away as it disappears, it fills me with an excitement deep in the pit of my stomach that I am coming to crave. I shiver, letting the tingling butterflies in my chest race out to my skin. With a smile splitting my lips, I close the door once more and bounce back a few steps. I am unable to wipe the smile from my face until I reach the bath and warm the tub of water waiting for me to almost boiling. Some instinct inside me tells me that the water won’t burn me, and I slip into the tub with a guttural sigh.
I think about yesterday again. I picture the horror and the pain of the hound ripping into my leg and pulling me to the ground. I feel again the moment of terror as I become certain that I am about to die and relive the terror turning to a violent rage that my life would be ended by such a sad and stupid creature. I see the creatures burning and smile again beneath the warm water, not because of the fire. I smile because more than thirty monsters had tried to kill me yesterday, but they simply were not strong enough to do so.
“Enter.” I hear Arabella call past the door to her office. I swing the door open, finding the woman seated as I have come to expect in her office. The only difference is the fact that there is now a stack of books along with a wooden box on the table in front of her.
I don't wait for her to ask me to sit, and she doesn't seem to mind my presumptions. “You wished to see me,” I say. The cushions of the couch feel like heaven after my long soak in the tub.
“I did,” Arabella confirms. “I wished to congratulate you on achieving the levels you have earned so far. I also found your display in the battle the day before to surpass my initial expectations.”
“You call them levels instead of soul reinforcement,” I say, latching onto the detail.
“Oh, yes.” Arabella waves her hand as if it doesn't mean a thing. “I was taught by a man from Faeth, the same land that first created that eye for Volaash. The Faethians have a more analytical approach to magic that the rest of the world has not yet caught up to. I found their numbering system useful.”
“I can see how it would be,” I say. “Not having to rely on intuition and having real numbers to use to find an understanding of all this magic business is nice.”
Arabella leans forward in her seat. Today she wears a silk dress, cerulean, that seems to have no purpose other than being flattering and obviously expensive. “I am interested to see what your experience with the Faethian analytical system will be further down the road. Having access to that information from the start will be good for you. I hope.”
“Once again, thank you for the artifact.” I motion to my left eye. “I'm interested, you haven't given me any extra work for the past week, but today I have your attention. Do I simply need to burn some monsters when I want to speak with you again in the future?”
“That would work,” Arabella says with a nod. “What I asked you to join me here for does pertain to the training that I wish for you to conduct. You seem to have caught onto it somewhat already. You told me before when you first discovered your abilities that you were an attribute specialist, a Recovery specialist. Most specialists make their specialty the cornerstone of the way in which they wield their powers, so, tell me Charlene, how do you plan to do this?”
“I still am not sure if I fully understand what it is that the Recovery attribute governs. Am I correct in assuming it has to do with the rate at which mana recovers?” I ask. Galea manifests in the room, though only I can see her. She is about to say something when I stop her, wanting to hear from Arabella.
“Not just mana, but all the vital energies. It, along with Vitality, governs the effectiveness of healing energy. Your body produces natural healing energy along with mana. According to the Faethian system, Recovery governs the rate at which these energies recover.”
It is as I have already guessed. “That doesn’t sound like something that will be very useful in a fight, not like being a magic specialist or a defense specialists would.”
“Correct,” Arabella agrees. “Most would consider Recovery to not be a combat attribute, at least not until it has reached the first threshold.”
“Threshold?” I ask.
“I mentioned something I might not to have,” Arabella says, wincing. “Forget about it. It is not something you need to concern yourself with.”
Her words, of course, make me want to immediately ask more questions about whatever threshold she is speaking about, but I decide to drop it for now. “Well, given that the Recovery attribute is not a combat attribute, it seems silly to build my own training around it.”
“I did not say that it is not a combat attribute; I said that most would not consider it to be. Most also do not understand what being an attribute specialist means. You will find magical items in your future: armor, weapons, magical jewelry, and these items will empower you, making your attributes stronger. Some, legendary items, will even grant you multiplicative effects to your attributes, such items are strikingly rare and dangerous to possess. People think that attribute specialists work like this, but that is incorrect. A specialist makes every point of their specialized attribute count for more. It is something to be neglected only by idiots or fools who listen to idiot mentors. I will not advise you unwisely.”
I chew on her words for a moment, and when it becomes apparent that she has nothing further to say, I nod and really think on it. Of all the things that I am ignorant of in this new life that I have chosen for myself, magical items might rank the highest of anything. I have never before heard of a magic item selling for anything less than ten gold pieces, and such expensive things did not make it all the way out to the rural town I grew up in. I have no idea what it is that they can do, but the idea that I can increase my power simply by putting on a pretty necklace entices me. Perhaps something that is gold or silver.
“You are saying that you believe Recovery is a combat attribute,” I say, still thinking through everything. “If it governs how fast my energies recover, then I can only see it being useful in a prolonged fight where both me and my opponent drain our energies to nothing. Then, it would give me a kind of upper hand.”
“Not a bad initial thought,” Arabella says with a smile. “Though, incomplete. What if I were to change how you look at a fight? Imagine that you are fighting your next monster right now, as the two of us speak here, even if you will not lay eyes on the monster for another week or more. What if I were to say that you are fighting all of your future monsters right this second, that what you decide to do from now until that time when you meet the monster on the field of battle matters as much, if not more, than what you will decide to do then.”
“You want me to consider myself as always fighting,” I say.
“If you did so, would you not consider your increased capacity to recover your energies as a good thing, as a powerful thing.”
“If I take that approach, then yes,” I say. “I’m not sure if I like that outlook. Like I’m always in a fight. When would I be able to relax?”
Arabella waves off the question. “What I am giving you is a philosophy to make yourself stronger. Only apply it in so far as you wish to become stronger. I have given you your deadline for rank three already, simply meet it. If you would like to aim for something beyond that, however, consider that most balanced mages require almost half of a day to recover all of their mana, when you can do so in a fraction of that time. That is a much bigger deal than the simple mathematics of the matter might make it out to be.”
“So, you’re saying that I should use my Recovery attribute as a reason to train more, because I can recover my stamina and mana faster than others, so I can expend it again faster as well,” I summarize.
“Precisely.”
“Is that not what I have been doing already for the past week?” I ask. “This is something I feel that I have already figured out for myself.”
“Which, as you might guess, is the reason I did not see fit as to change your training schedule. If you wish to amend it, simply do so. That is what I have told each of my new pupils after having our little one on one meeting.”
I sigh, wishing that any of the others might have let me know that I can change the schedule. “Well, I suppose I will do that then.”
“Not just that however,” Arabella says. She picks up a heavy book from the stack on the table next to her. “It has come to my attention that your education is lacking. Not extremely lacking, but lacking none the less.”
She hands the book to me, and I read the cover, “Mathematics and Economics: A Dive into the Driving Forces of a Society.” I frown at the book, and glance at the spines of the other three heavy tomes on the table between us. They all look equally dusty and dry, although two do directly mention magic, and so they might at least be a little interesting.
“I am not a fan of mathematics,” I tell Arabella.
“That is a shame then because it is an incredibly important subject to grasp, if you wish to truly master magic. I will have you do so, even if you find it boring.” Arabella lifts the wooden box and opens it toward me. Inside, a simple wooden ring rests on a bed of velvet. “I am also gifting this to you. I had planned to do so during the ceremony just before the competition is to begin, but after seeing you haul around all of those monster parts yesterday, I determined that you might need it now.
I lift the ring from the box, and a message appears above my hand.
Wooden Ring of Storage(Rare):
The wielder of a Ring of Storage is able to place and retrieve items from a space outside of reality. Items stored inside of the ring will not degrade or experience time. Cannot store living materials. Space Remaining: 60/60.
Just after having my first lesson on magic items, Arabella has handed me one. “You can put items inside of this ring?” I ask Arabella.
“I see that the eye was able to identify it then,” Arabella says. “Good. Storage items are common once you get to the middle ranks, but they are uncommon enough for first rankers. The trick to keeping your storage items safe is to not let anyone know that you have one, or, if they know that you do, to not know which item of yours it is. I give this to you now, but I need you to keep it a secret from everyone. If anyone in the manor asks why you are wearing a ring made of wood, make up some folksy excuse with plenty of slang and I am certain the elves in the house will buy it."
I smile at that. I turn the ring over in my fingers, it really is just a smooth band of wood without adornment. As I concentrate harder on the ring, I can see the faint shifting of magic from around it, but the shift is hard to detect, like a heat mirage.
I watch as Galea floats closer to the ring, growling. “I do not like this item, Mistress Charlene. I do not like it one bit."
I shake my head at the dragon spirit. “How do I use it?” I ask Arabella.
“Put it on. These items are fairly intuitive. Once you are wearing it, merely wish to store something inside of the ring as you make skin contact with it, and the magic inside the ring should do the rest. Storage items are safe from intrusion, even if stolen, as long as you are still alive and well. I would not worry about that too much, as if anyone were going to use your storage item, you would be dead."
I try to do as Arabella says, slipping the ring on and placing my hand on the mathematics book next to me. It takes a few seconds of focus, my brain attempting to find the right points to touch the magic in the ring, but then it works. The book disappears from under my hand, and I can vaguely sense that it is now inside of the ring. I know that I can call it back into reality once again with a thought.
“Imprecise,” Galea mutters to herself.
“This is an incredible gift,” I say to Arabella.
“I have already made an investment in your success,” Arabella says. “I merely ask that you prove me right.” Arabella stands, folding her hands in front of her. “Now, I must be off to conduct other business."
“Of course,” I say, rising as well. I pick up the other books left on the table, and feel my face grow hot as I remember the new magic item that Arabella just gave to me. After another second of focus all four books have been safely placed inside of the ring.
“Read all of those this week,” Arabella tells me. “Come back and see me again once you have done so and have also gained at least one more level. I would also suggest that you speak with Kithkik about teaching you how to dodge attacks. That was one thing that I believe you need to improve at with all haste. With your ability to recover, I imagine that you should be able to handle what she will throw at you."
“If that is what you wish me to do,” I say, bowing slightly to the woman as she turns and walks toward the doors on the other side of the small room.
“Other than that, continue to do what it is you are doing. I have a feeling that you will discover the best ways for you to grow stronger on your own.” With that, the two ice clones at the back of the room open the doors for Arabella. She leaves me alone in the room, pondering her advice. I would be a fool not to listen to her.