The cheer dies as a cliff of red light shudders into existence on the edge of the slope. Bodies of dead Dire Bears are shuffled forward, forming piles of dismemberment at the base of the red wall that stands just a few feet behind the tree line. So close now, I can see that the wall is not entirely opaque. The boughs of trees stand frozen inside the wall, locked in place by the immovable color that stands there.
“Run!” someone on the slope yells. All at once, a flood of people sprint up the slope toward where I stand, panic in their faces an obelisk of red magic stands sentinel at their backs, vibrating the air around it with a deep whine. They do not stop at the top of the slope, continuing to sprint past and run into the forest the slope led up to. Someone grabs my arm, Macille, and drags me along with him into the trees.
The vibrancy leaves the group as they make it to the trees. Some turn rapidly in place, trying to spot any oncoming threats out of the wood, while others collapse, the exhaustion from the battle overcoming them. Macille sets his back to a tree, the clothes beneath the armor I gave him thoroughly soaked with sweat that refuses to evaporate in the cold air. I still feel the tingling in my fingers, that phantom heat that runs over my skin when I summon my dragonfire. The feeling begs me to keep going, throw more fire, burn whatever I can, but my lack of mana keeps me sane.
“It stopped,” Dovik says, the man’s words cutting through the panic and muttering. He stands at the tree line, looking at the red wall that towers away from us so high that it looks infinite this close to us. “It hasn’t moved again.”
I walk over to the man, joined by a few of the other magicians, and stare at the wall as well. It continues to hum the air, the magic of its constitution vibrating the air, but as I stand and listen to it, it sounds like it is winding down. Silence lapses over us. We stand for a long while, staring at the red wall that finally winds down to silence at the edge of the tree line on the bottom end of the slope.
Samielle grabs my arm as I raise a hand to throw some dragonfire at the wall. “Don’,” he says. “Best not to test it.”
I let the fire go, giving in. “Did it really stop?”
“Look,” Dovik says. He points along the line the slope cuts through the forest, and I see at once what he is referring to. The wall has settled perfectly along the uneven line of the slope, no longer a perfectly straight wall but one perfectly parallel to the slope’s irregularity. “This is where they were herding us to.”
Dovik starts walking down the slope, and after a second or two, nothing happening, a few of us follow. Taken to his role as leader, he begins handing out orders.
“Farm girl,” he says, turning to me and trying to pick up the cheer the ending of the battle had given all of us just before, “why don’t you start working at Disenchanting the monsters.”
“At least I can be useful,” I mutter, walking past him.
Dovik catches my arm as I walk past, whispering in my ear. “Can you store Rohinda’s body for me?”
The request catches me too off guard to answer him for a moment. “You want me to hold onto her?”
“Until I find a good place for her funeral,” he says. “Please.”
I nod to the man. Gods, I don’t want to, but I can’t refuse the sincerity I hear in his voice. I tap the hide of a Dire Bear as I pass it. The body explodes into pink smoke that swirls into the air and disappears. “More work to do.”
The fire crackles, a loose spark floating away from the burning wood, sizzling into the meat hanging over it on a skewer. We have five fires going, I lit them all, over which bear meat cooks. The snow is thin here, one of the women in the group can control snow apparently, and managed to move it all out of the clearing we found a few miles north of where we fought the Dire Bears. There are fifty-three of us now. Everyone is tired.
I sit by the fire, rotating the spit on which my hunk of Dire Bear meat rests every few minutes as I watch the camp, sheltering beneath the bear pelt that drapes my shoulders like a blanket. There had been a few white bears among the group; I kept one of those pelts for myself. Again, I was surprised to find no one object to me deciding to keep the particular spoils for myself.
With over a hundred of the monsters killed on the slope, my Disenchantment ability plucked a pelt from each and enough meat to last the entire group a week or more. Most of the group sleeps now, wrapped tightly in the pelts I gave out as night approached, puffing fog into the night air from inside their warm bundles. Macille sits next to me, working with a needle to try and sew something resembling a tent together from two of the pelts I gave him. He is awful at it, but someone has to do it.
“Almost done,” I tell him, turning the spit. I look up at the sky, a small window that breaks through the ever-present canopy of giant trees. The stars are different here, foreign. I can’t even begin to think of how to navigate by them. Luckily, navigation is someone else’s job. I’m the group’s backpack.
“I feel like I told you I wasn’t hungry,” Macille says, working with the needle. He swears under his breath, dropping the bundle of furs and sucking on his thumb.
“You need to eat,” I tell him.
“And you need to sleep,” he says back to me.
I must look terrible. I felt the exhaustion start creeping up on me as soon as the battle ended. My mana had been taken down to almost nothing in the end, and the exhaustion that comes with doing that has been pulling at me for a while.
Ignoring Macille’s comment, I pull the spit from the fire and lay the meat on a flat stone to rest. Foreign birds call to each other from the tops of the trees on all sides of us. Strange, I never knew birds to be so loud at night. I stare out at the shadows at the edges of the circular clearing we set camp in. There are a few given the job to watch over the group while we sleep, mostly those that joined after we fought the Dire Bears.
I am a bit afraid to go to sleep. Eleven, that is how many times I will have my soul reinforced while I sleep. That is more at a single time than I have ever had done in total. The changes are bound to be radical, and I have no idea who the person waking up in the morning will be.
“I’ll sleep when I’m done eating,” I tell Macille. I use a knife looted from one of the soldiers earlier in the day to cut a piece off my bear meat. Despite the lack of seasoning and the uneven cooking, the meat melts in my mouth, maybe the best meal that I’ve ever had. “You are missing something special here.”
Macille sighs, motioning to me to hand him the knife. He hesitates for a moment before rolling his eyes and cutting into the slab of meat on my rock. He chews on it for a while before swallowing. “It’s tough,” he says.
“It was a giant monster,” I say back. “Of course, it’s tough.”
“So maybe cook it longer.” Macille picks his pelts back up, fusing them with the needle and thread.
“I’m not a chef,” I say, cutting off another piece. I’m not even sure why I am so set on eating; I’m not even that hungry.
“Didn’t claim you were,” he tells me. “You should get some sleep.”
“That’s what women want to hear, Macille. They like it when you tell them they look tired. Makes us feel real pretty.” I realize that I am being a bit short with the man. He saved my life more than once today. My temper has been on a short fuse all day, not that I can really blame myself. These people who I thought were going to test me decided to drop a half ton of steel on me today and attack me with hundreds of monsters. I think anyone would be rightfully angry.
Macille ignores my outburst, continuing his sewing. A pain bites into my thumb and I hiss. Looking down, I can see a line of blood crawling down my palm from where I had cut myself with the knife. I groan, pushing the knife and the cooked meat aside. “Fine.”
“Fine,” Macille agrees.
“I’m not going to sleep because I’m tired,” I lie to him. “This is about soul reinforcement.”
“Good,” Macille says. “We did a lot today so I imagine that you should wake up much stronger than you were before. Maybe you will even begin to catch up to me.”
“You’re saying that you think you can beat me in a fight?” I ask him, standing. I walk a few paces away and start kicking at the detritus, trying to kick up the dead leaves to reach the soil. It takes me a few seconds to realize that I can just burn the dead leaves away with my dragonfire. The sudden use of bright, magical fire in the middle of the camp turns heads in my direction, but I ignore them. A few seconds later, I have a nice, scorched, circle of well-baked soil to start dropping bear pelts onto.
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I find Macille looking at me incredulously after I have finished laying out my personal pallet. “What?” I ask him. He snorts and shakes his head, going back to his knitting.
Two pelts from Dire Bears are plenty to make a bed with, and I lay down, using the big white pelt as a blanket. I produce another pelt to bundle up as a pillow. I watch Macille, my world sideways, as the man continues to work with bone needle and gut thread to get his tent working. There is a tiredness in his eyes, not for want of sleep but because of the confusion and death today. He hasn’t mentioned trying to look for Kendon since before the fight with the Armors. I fall asleep wondering what the rest of the people I arrived here with are doing right now. We will find them eventually. I have no doubt about that.
The smell of bacon cooking nearby makes my eyes shoot open. This, as it turns out, was a bad idea, as the gunk that built up on my left eye overnight keeps the lid sticking closed. I rub my eye, working my fingers to pull the eyelid open, only to be greeted by sunlight attempting to blind me. I notice, for the first time, that two of the trees surrounding the clearing we found last night are a different breed from all the rest I have seen in the forest. Their leaves shine like mirrors, casting off beams of sunlight in all directions in a cascade that might be beautiful if it wasn’t the first thing I saw in the morning. There is activity going on in the camp, a lot of it from the sounds of things.
My stomach grumbles, and I see four men sitting at the campfire just a few feet away from me. A giant flat stone rests on rocks over the fire, the sizzling sound of cooking meat coming from it. One looks my way, and with a wave of his hand, two pieces of crisp, still cooking bacon, float off of the stone and towards me. My hand shoots out from beneath the cover of my white bear pelt, snagging the bacon out of the air.
I pull the pelt back over my head, eating inside of my warm cocoon of pelts and let myself fall back asleep. I don’t wake up again until mid-morning.
“Mistress Charlene,” I hear Galea whisper in my ear, bringing me back to consciousness. I didn’t know the spirit could wake me up.
“No,” I tell the dragon.
“But…I have to show you,” Galea pleads at me. “I have to show you!”
“I’m sleeping,” I tell her.
Ignoring me completely, I see a message window appear in the darkness past my closed eyes. I growl at the spirit, trying to ignore the floating text in the middle of my vision and continue sleeping, but the fight is futile. Sighing, abandoning the comfort of unconsciousness, I turn my waking mind to reading it.
Charlene Devardem
Human(Level 8 → 19)(Rank 1)
Emperor Conflux
Attributes
Vitality: 23 → 34
Strength: 12 → 23
Magic: 64 → 140
Defense: 20 → 31
Magic Defense: 16 → 27
Speed: 49 → 60
Recovery: 60 → 127
Perception: 13 → 24
Presence: 0
Healing Points: 340
Mana: 1400
Stamina: 442
Free Points: 110
I almost shoot up in my pallet at seeing the numbers, but then I remember that I am spiting the world and Galea. Remaining beneath my furs and trying to ignore the light conversation going on at the campfire, I read the attribute changes a few more times.
“My Magic and Recovery more than doubled,” I tell Galea.
“Your level doubled too,” she says, pointing it out like I hadn’t noticed.
“Oh wow, thanks for letting me know.”
“It is not problem, Mistress Charlene.”
I try to ignore the dragon spirit. I can’t see her with my eyes closed, but I can still feel that she is right next to my head, no doubt with a smug look on her face. I need to decide what to do with my over one hundred free points.
For an instant, the idea of dumping them all into Strength passes through my head. I see myself hurling a boulder at one of the Armors, a hulking woman with mountainous muscles. I shake my head to rid myself of the fantasy. If I end up fantasizing like that every single time I have a lot of free points to spend, I don’t know how long I can stay on the straight and narrow path of a mage.
Doing a bit of quick math, something I am getting better and better at, I notice that the only effort values I gained were in Magic and Recovery. My attributes are beginning to look a bit lopsided.
I reevaluate that thought, more quick math. If all my attributes were evenly distributed, with the numbers that I have now, then I would have a 55 in every stat with some change left over. Sure, some of my attributes are a bit lower than that, Strength, Magic Defense, and Perception are all less than half of that, but is that such a bad thing? I don’t find Strength and Perception being a bit low to be all that much of a big deal. I am trying to be a Mage, not a Striker or Scout. Magic Defense being low might be a problem in the future, but I’ve also never encounter a monster that tried to hit me with any magic before. They will eventually, that is for certain, but I don’t think monsters being overly magical is something that occurs before rank three.
In the end, I decide that I might as well keep doing what I have been doing. Magic seems to be the most important stat for me by a large margin, but I also don’t want to neglect Recovery at all. It is the attribute that I have a specialization for after all. I like speed, being fast is pretty great. I deliberately conjure a fantasy of me outracing a horse in my mind and find that I like the idea just as much as being some muscle monster that can crush rocks with her bare hands. Alright, not as much, but if I keep thinking about it then I might eventually, and the idea of leaving a horse behind to eat my dirt does put a smile on my face. The idea of doing that to Halford is even more satisfying.
I miss him, even now.
I give Galea my command and the unseen spirit claps her claws excitedly next to my ear. My hiding under my furs has the added benefit of obscuring the flash of light that rolls over my skin from the attribute distribution from anyone in the camp. I check my attributes after it is done but find another window popping up alongside it.
Charlene Devardem
Human(Level 8 → 19)(Rank 1)
Emperor Conflux
Attributes
Vitality: 23 → 34
Strength: 12 → 23
Magic: 60 → 180\
Defense: 20 → 31
Magic Defense: 15 → 27
Speed: 49 → 100
Recovery: 56 → 147
Perception: 13 → 24
Presence: 0
Healing Points: 340
Mana: 1800
Stamina: 562
THRESHOLD REACHED! 200 RECOVERY!!
Recovery(1st Threshold): The effects of spent Healing Points is significantly increased, allowing you to recover from more grievous injuries than naturally possible. Even some previously mortal wounds may be unable to truly end your life.
Recovery(Specialist): As a specialist in Recovery, the duration of poisons, curses, and harmful magical effects upon you are significantly reduced.
“Galea,” I call in my head.
“I am still here Mistress,” the spirit chirps in my ear.
“What is this threshold thing?” I ask.
She hems and haws in my ear. “Just a few minutes ago, I didn’t know. Now that you have reached it, I can confidently say that it is a qualitative increase in what your attribute it able to accomplish, created when you met a certain quantitative accumulation of empowerment in the specific attribute.”
“How descriptive,” I sigh. I hold off on asking her why the threshold has been reached despite me not in fact having 200 Recovery, my Dragon’s Eye is the answer to that mystery I am certain. The ability allows my points in the Recovery attribute to count for one and a half times what they normally would, which would put me over the 200 threshold. “Does this mean that I could have hit the threshold for Magic if I had put all my points in that?”
“Yes, I suppose so.” I can practically see the grin on the dragon’s face.
“And you didn’t tell me about that because you didn’t know about that,” I say.
“Yes, precisely. I know about it now. I can fold it into any future recommendations that I might give for how to allocate free points.”
I sigh aloud. “That’s all right. I think I can remember it.”
“So, you are awake,” I hear a voice above me say before I feel something nudging my side. I pull the furs off myself, shading my virgin eyes from the merciless sunrays coming down from overhead, and see Macille looking down at me with a smirk. The man is wearing his armor, though he hasn’t done a good enough job cleaning it from the day before. I can still see a few spots where blood is dried to the metal. I don’t know if it is his or someone else’s. I notice something else about him that makes my weird eyes widen.
Macille Esfelle(Rank One)(Level 36)
Guardian Conflux
I can see his level! Taking a quick glance around, I can see everyone’s levels.
“I have something on my face?” Macille asks, wiping his chin with the back of his gauntleted hand.
“No,” I say, sitting up. “Just…nothing.”
He looks at me, puzzlement clear, before shrugging. “It’s almost noon,” he says.
“So?”
“I never knew you to sleep in so late,” he says. Macille motions around to the rest of the camp, and, in fact, I am one of only two people still in bed.
“You haven’t known me all that long,” I tell him.
“You sound a bit cranky. Might want to get some food.” I gape up at him, earning a laugh. “Come on,” he says, nudging me with his boot again, “we are going to go hunting and scouting. I thought you might be useful to bring along.”
“Because I can store things for you, and you don’t have to carry them that way?” I ask.
“No,” he says, serious. “Because you can disenchant things and store things. Those are both pretty useful.”
I roll my eyes at the man, pocketing the furs I’m lying in and the big white one I’m using as a blanket with a thought. I groan as I get to my feet, taking a moment to pop the stiffness out of my back and shoulders.
“So, how do you feel today?” he asks me.
“Different,” I tell him. It’s true, there is something different today. Looking about the camp, I notice that I’m not the only one in unusually high spirits. Looking at the people speaking and moving about the camp, forming small parties to venture into the forest with, you wouldn’t suspect that they had all been struggling for their lives just the day before.
“It’s a good feeling when you are still starting out,” Macille says, “soul reinforcement. It starts to come less and less frequently as you advance but given that our group killed over a hundred monsters yesterday, I’m sure that everyone is a fair bit stronger than the day before.”
“I’m interested in seeing what I can do now,” I tell him. “Give me a few minutes to get my armor on.”
“No rush,” he says. “At least I don’t think so. Jess seemed pretty antsy to get a move on.”
“We are going with Jess?” I ask. “Who else?”
“Jess and Samielle. They seem like good people, competent too. They want to explore further north. Samielle said he found something interesting that way, and north is the direction that we’re supposed to be going anyway.”
I nod, pulling pieces of armor from my inventory as I listen to him start telling me about everything Samielle had found that morning. Apparently, the man loved to just fly around the forest looking for new and interesting things. I couldn’t blame him. I was feeling a bit excited at seeing what this magical forest of monsters had to offer too.