The suburbs: signs of life, but no proof.

Pre-Fall aphorist

The area, at least, sported the familiar grid-like structure that was familiar from the ruins near Valetta. Most of the location’s structures had fallen flat like back there, walls barely a couple of feet tall, with the occasional piece of masonry standing.

And then, the transition was abrupt and next to a ruined square, you had an almost intact house, as well preserved as those that were in that transposed village in the Marches of the Dakota.

At least it looked so on the outside. Many times, back then, they’d found some building still standing, only to have the interior washed out through a single hole somewhere on their top.

“That’s a nice location,” Miles noted.

“No kidding. If it was a classic scavenging expedition, I think we’d fill out our bags within the day.”

“If it was a classic, we’d have had more problems with those beasts. There’s a reason people usually do not come this way.”

“Is the eastern part of the ruins that much safer?”

“Ulrich and I never did Cleveland, but you’ve got people like Scott Cameron’s team who swear by it. Now, how do you usually proceed?”

“The ruins look stable. We can probably split and check a few houses.”

“No Artifacts?”

“None in sight. Petra?”

“Nope.”

Tom joined Johanna and they went into the first house. While they hoped to score books, the common salvage was still useful. The nearly 40k leftover from the sale of the Glass Cane and whatever they would get for Burning Slasher would be plenty if they simply worked as scavengers, but Johanna knew it was not to be, and every bit might count. The stairs next to the entrance led to a floor with low slanted ceilings, and she quickly found all kinds of goodies in one room, while the others had pierced roofs, and everything in those had rotted decades or maybe a century ago. Despite the offer from Myriam Carlin about Ancient clothing, she didn’t think she’d get anything good unless the merchant was interested in slightly stained Ancient underwear and socks. Still, they picked everything, including those, bringing it down to the ground floor and stashing it in the main room of the house, where it looked safer from the elements.

For a moment, she thought she had scored a major win when she spotted a pile of books. She hesitated briefly before grabbing them. But when the books didn’t start converting into parchments, she opened them and saw mostly smudges of pictures rather than words, and realized that, while the paper may have endured, the ink had smeared to illegibility from humidity. Like many of the hymnals in the church, they were useless.

She put the books dejectedly back on the shelf where she’d picked them from, and moved on.

There was a lot more intact stuff on the ground floor, notably in what looked to be the kitchen. Tools and implements, but also nearly pristine Alium shelves in a cabinet, with what might have been groceries on them. The metal cans had somehow broken, and there were a lot of molds still growing everywhere as if the ruin dated back from a couple of decades instead of fifteen, but the shelves themselves could probably be salvaged. She started bringing the kitchen loot next to the entrance, as she realized she hadn’t picked a copy of the “lists” of Macintosh. She was used to Valettan pricing, but she was quite certain things would sell differently in New Sandusky.

Better ask Miles later.

Once she and Tom had stacked piles of loot, she went looking for a basement. There wasn’t much of one, a single confined room, with smashed shelves that had rusted, piles of broken glass, and lots of dark mushrooms that were growing out of the earth that had fallen through the broken concrete of a wall. She quickly abandoned any hope of finding anything and moved back upstairs, extinguishing her flame.

All in all, she’d taken maybe two, or two and a half hours checking the entire house. She had enough to fill their two backpacks, sure, but was it worth it?

In a way, those ruins at the edge were a trap. They might find too much loot, and trying to sell Ulrich and Miles the idea that they should look further in, to find books, might be hard without explaining exactly why.

Although I can “look” for Artifacts. But getting them to search buildings when the packs are full will require explanations.

They hadn’t brought their seven basic parchments, and she would rather show why the books were important rather than try to convince them anyway. Well, she could always try to do it later, if nothing else happened.

She looked inside the house next door. Miles and Ulrich had adopted the same technique, bringing everything they’d spotted as interesting on the ground floor near the entrance. If anything, their collection was even more eclectic, and they had included clothing, notably hats. She hadn’t spotted any in the house she’d been working on, but that was something to remember eventually.

“Miles? Can I ask you something?”

“Go. We’re still sorting through stuff.”

“What do you do when you’ve got more loot than you can carry?”

The man laughed.

“You come back, of course. Or you mark the house as not emptied for anyone else following.”

“You what?”

“There are lots of scavengers around. One of the tricks you pick is marking ruins when you’re done so that others don’t waste time on it if they find it by chance. Or if you forgot you came around last year.”

“That’s practical. You make me feel like a bumbling amateur,” Johanna said.

“Well, you said you were basically the only scavengers around your old city. You had to learn on the job. Here, scavenging is an old profession, people have been doing it since the turn of the century, and we’ve learned lots of little tricks like that to make us better. Most teams form because the old team retired, and there’s an old bum that doesn’t know how to stop, like me. He passes his wisdom on, and the traditions endure.

As for loot… weren’t you looking for that?” he added pointing to the side.

On the wall was hanging what she recognized as a small bookcase, half-ruined.

With a row filled with over a dozen books.

She looked at them, finding her heart fluttering. The books seemed to be of some good quality, a leathery cover with slightly faded gold lettering. For some reason, the books had four different titles on their covers, with names as strange as The Midnight Line or Miramar Bay. And they seemed intact, although she’d just seen that the cover did not prejudge the interior.

“That collection is nice. Although I’m not sure why you want them so much, here you are.”

“They’re in good shape?” she asked, unwilling to touch them now.

“I had a look. Slightly yellowed, but better preserved than some I’ve found. Okay, maybe those ones might be better by volume.”

She looked at him.

“There is a different reason why we’re looking for those. They’re key to how… and why we’re going to Washington DC.”

“So you said. All in time.”

It looks like it’s time.

“And maybe it’s time. The least I can do is show you.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

“Show me what?”

She reached for the first book on the lower shelf and turned back toward Miles.

Well, there should be a lot I can work with, Moore thought as he tried to remember Bertram’s exact descriptor back from those New Sandusky meetings a few days ago. The man probably had not obtained much in the way of XP anyway, as the five had dealt with the beasts on the way, and the XP shares he’d seen indicated an equal split with Petra, and no more.

So, level 7… enough to get 8 and some…

Miles Albert Bertram Junior

Male human, 43 years, 8 months

Unspecialized (gofer)

Level: 7 (21000 XP needed)

7 unallocated skill points

XP: 41017

STR: 17

AUT: 17 (2000 XP needed)

AGI: 15 (2000 XP needed)

PER: 15

DEX: 15

EMP: 16 (3000 XP needed)

Given the difficulty to communicate a full build plan, the obvious was to build upon the top two base stats of each person rather than some abstract group synergy and minimize the needed extra stats with whatever was available as a skill. In Bertram’s case, that would mean his Strength as primary, and Authority secondary.

The problem with this strategy was, Tom didn’t have enough Authority to unlock the Battler specialization that would go with it. And he was not going to sacrifice XP to give him the necessary two points right now. If he had something else than Blind Fighting for the next skill, he might have tried it, but the Specialist Battler had no use for Authority until level 8. And it was hard enough to level him now that Moore was no longer expending his hoard of XP directly in his team.

The other variants he knew about all started from lower base values, meaning he had to expend more of Bertram’s stock of XP to unlock or raise those. And that basically prevented a future switch once the “proper” specialization became available.

That left the basic Battler, which was, well, serviceable, but not what one would expect from a veteran at level 8, since he had enough XP for that. He could upgrade the specialization for free later, but he ran against the problem of communicating the need for a “touch-up”. Petra, he expected them to guess he could give her a new skill soon since she’d used a Level scroll. But Bertram Jr? He would have the new specialization available long before he could give him a new skill, not make just a weird no-skill specialization scroll. In fact, he might have to wait until their newest recruit got to level 10 to do so, which put that in the far future.

Okay, sorcery again. At least I now have the specialization from Johanna. Now… let’s see the proper ordering of those things.

Johanna briefly thought to make it ceremonial. Creating parchments was, after all, an otherworldly experience. But practicality won out, and she decided to simply grab the book and just watch Miles’s reaction.

“What we want for the expedition is… this.”

Right on cue, she felt the cold seeping from the book, as the blue light started to swirl above it.

“Another Talent? How many do you have?” Miles asked.

“Not quite. It should be… enlightening to see who you are, Miles.”

“What do you mean, who I am?” he asked, just as the geometrical abstractions swirling above the book coalesced and the first parchment dropped over the extended book. She caught it immediately and looked.

A full four-fold version. MetalShaper, CallLightning, Level, Authority.

Wait a minute, Metal Shaper exists?

Was it linked to Authority? If she remembered right, Catherine’s first parchment had included Strength instead. But Miles was waiting for an answer, and she pushed aside her questions about why the Skeleton had made Catherine into a simple Shaper rather than a full Metal Shaper.

“I said we needed the right people. By right people, I meant Talented ones.”

“But those are rare. You won’t find those in New Sandusky. So why pick us?”

“Because Talents can be earned. Because Talents… can be given.”

She kept the book in one hand and handed the parchment to him. Miles grabbed the paper square and, unsurprisingly, it started lighting as soon as she released it.

“What is THAT?” he exclaimed.

“The biggest change in your life since… well, since. If you accept it like it somehow asks you to.”

Miles contemplated the slowly rotating lines of blue on the parchment before looking back at her.

“You called yourself a Fire Shaper.”

“And if you accept, I’ll call you a fellow Metal Shaper.”

“I would become a sorcerer with that… thing? Really?”

“With your first Talent, Call Lightning. And I would avoid trying to use it while in here, I think. Based on the name, I’ve heard of it, even if I never saw it being used. The Warden of the Montana was almost killed by that kind of spell, even if he only got crippled permanently.”

“And the rest?” he asked, still not accepting the parchment.

“Level, I think, is how you get access to more Talents than most people will ever do. Authority… probably something to go with Call Lightning. It does fit, in a way.”

“You think?”

“My team, we did not get our Talents using this method. People seem to cap at three Talents ‘naturally’. But based on what happened with others, it looks like it is what it does.”

“Petra Veldhuis,” Miles guessed.

“Yes. She was a minor sorceress, an ice adept, back in the Marches of the Dakota.”

“And that’s how she’s an earth archmage… An Earth Shaper, as you said. Now you give me that… why?”

“Because we need Talented backup for the expedition to the East Coast. And the way we’ll get that is by finding the right people. People who aren’t too afraid of risks, who like working in ruins… and giving them the right Talents. Just like Petra.”

“I feel like I’m probably making a mistake.”

“You’ll be fine. As I just said; it’s not the first time.”

The parchment flash-fired, leaving no trace and eliciting a yelp of surprise from Miles as the ash vanished before falling on the ground.

“Welcome to the rank of sorcerers, Metal Shaper Miles Bertram,” she smiled, before adding, “when Tom comes here, we’ll see about giving you something else… although,” she realized.

She put the partially converted book on the table nearby and grabbed the second book on the shelf. Lines immediately formed up.

Dexterity, Chill Metal. She wordlessly handed the new parchment to Miles and didn’t wait to see what he did before grabbing the next book.

Dexterity again, Fusion. She recognized the Talent since they had made the exact same parchment for Catherine. It did look like Miles was indeed going to have a similar type of magic.

Dexterity – a third time? – and Metal Skin. That one made her wonder. She would have to verify on her notebook, but she was quite sure it had been Strength, not Dexterity. Although it had been the first parchment? It was with the specialization and Level thing, not as a stand-alone.

“I need to take notes of what I made for you,” she informed Miles, as he consumed the paper.

“Why?”

“We’re still discovering how that works. Well, not the general gist of it, but the details. Congratulations on being above Archmage rank, by the way.”

“Archmage?”

“People with three Talents are called Archmages because they are extremely advanced. But, of course, that does not apply…”

“Apply to you, you mean?” the voice of Ulrich came from the side.

She spotted the thirster, arms full, dropping some of the salvageable items from above in the house’s main room.

“I’ve heard the bit about archmages before. I thought you to be one, based on what you said and showed back in New Sandusky, but then you demonstrated that fireball thing. So four Talents. At least four.”

“Five,” she replied. At his raised eyebrow, she added, “Remember, I breathe ultra-hot steam.”

“Did not see that one. So, five. And one day, you’ll tell us more about that.”

“She did, Ulrich,” Miles said.

“And I missed the talk?” he replied.

Miles smiled. She did not spot the flash of manalight, unlike with the Countess, confirming what she suspected about Metal Shaper versus Shaper. But the flush of metal coming out of the jacket and rising across his face was familiar.

“What the…” Ulrich blurted.

“It’s almost like using an Artifact,” he said, raising and looking at his shiny hands.

“Metal Skin is protection, I think. One for metal-oriented sorcerers, or Metal Shapers,” Johanna said. “You won’t have much in the way of mana reserves, maybe enough to hold it for thirty seconds?” she tried to guess.

The thirster looked at both of them.

“You are really doing that?” he finally said.

“I am. Thanks to Mrs. Milton.”

Ulrich looked between Miles and Johanna, his discolored eyes furrowed.

“How?”

“Well, given that he only got one Level, Miles got probably all the spells he can use. Why don’t we see what a thirster can be? If you have so many fire casters in your family, maybe you’ll be one too?”

She grasped the fifth book and watched Ulrich look at the swirls of blue and symbols that manifested. She grabbed the parchment as it formed.

“You know what? That reminds me of what cousin Sofia said when she got her fire immunity.”

“What?”

“A place where blue was all over. Where lines of blue made figures that the brain can’t really parse.”

“Elena – the Sorceress of the Mists of the Montana – called it the dream of mana. A place, no, an ocean of blue with lines. You might be right. I mean, with Mana Sight, it’s somewhat colorless. But the very first mana accumulation I saw was… all blue.”

Then she looked at the parchment and froze.

Agility. Mirror.

Wait, what?

“Problem, Johanna?” Miles called.

“It’s not what expected. There is no specialization. Or level… it looks… an additional spell. Mirror? A metal one?”

“Well, if it’s still for me, it’s easy to check,” Miles answered, extending his hand.

The parchment lit up and was consumed.

“You don’t control what you make?” Ulrich asked.

“No. It’s complicated… But it usually fits.”

The sixth book turned into something she remembered well and fit the metal theme as well. Perception and Detect Metal. She wordlessly handed it to Miles, who immediately used it.

The seventh turned into Authority and Ember Chains.

“How many skills can you have? You’re a monster!” she started.

Miles Albert Bertram Junior

Male human, 43 years, 8 months

Metal Shaper

Level: 8 (34000 XP needed)

Mana: 1/394 (+26 per hour)

Stamina: 1/42 (+21 per hour)

0 unallocated skill point

XP: 3059

STR: 17 (958 XP needed)

Metal Skin (42)

AUT: 19 (8000 XP needed)

Call Lightning (65)

Fusion (65)

AGI: 16 (3000 XP needed)

Mirror (56)

PER: 16 (2000 XP needed)

Detect Metal (40)

DEX: 18 (5000 XP needed)

Ember Chains (44)

EMP: 16 (3000 XP needed)

Chill Metal (40)

+6.5 mana per hour

Bodily immunity to cold, down to -100°F (-73°C)

Bodily immunity to fire, up to 950 °F (510°C)

+42 stamina

+5.6 Perception for skill checks

Recognize the primary metal of any alloy