Boredom always precedes a period of great creativity.

Pre-Fall writer

The days started to stretch and merge into each other. Gomez and Johanna had expected more dumps, but after the categorizations, she’d seen a weird dump of a small set of simple Talents that seemed to follow no specific order.

Gomez was, of course, the one to figure out that the Talents had come in the order in the last edition of the Mages of America. Now, they had real names to match all of the various sorcerous abilities that had ever been officially recorded or studied so far.

The last categories had been prefaced by Mana Sight, then over 200 Talents, followed by Gauge Stamina, and what looked like the other half of the Talent catalog. She was the one to recognize that meaning and informed Gomez that the Talent that started the list was the one who could see the rest in action. Most of the time, that is.

After that, she’d simply started converting specialization sets again, and Gomez had retreated to his desk to try to make a better sense of what he’d learned so far, analyzing his notes.

So, it was a surprise when, after three days, the morning finally started with a surprising Adept Picket, Adept Sentinel, followed by Alchemist. Arcane Guardian and Armorsmith, then Ash Shaper. And so on, once again in simple alphabetical order. It was immediately followed by the same names, but in a different order and this time associated with Levels and qualities, similar to the Talent dump.

“I did not need three days to study the Talent lists,” Gomez said. “Or I’ll need three years for a full study.”

“Uh?”

“Informing your patron, of course. I’m taking notes, not doing a full-fledged analysis. Not yet. Having that list earlier would have been fine.”

“He probably has a reason.”

“And one I will not attempt to guess why. The list is… interesting.”

“I noted other Shapers,” she smiled. “Not just five Chinese ones.”

“Those are obvious though. Ash means Wood and Fire. Mud is simply Earth and Water. It looks like we get the ten possible combinations if I assume that Unnatural is, well, Wood and Metal.”

“Which does sound unnatural indeed,” Johanna noted.

“Only five Masters, though?”

Gomez consulted his list.

“It’s fascinating though because there are obvious similarities and then odd ones. Like Guardian, with only three variations. I would have expected five. Or maybe four only, since it uses two qualities as its base. But there is nothing with Agility added.”

“Or Keeper being a specialization, not a Talent,” Johanna said.

“I wondered why it wasn’t in the Talent catalog. Well, the Dexterity one that Mr. Donnall has got both name variations and specific names. You go from Discreet to either Improviser as he has, or Sharp Discreet which is the same type, only with a different secondary quality.”

“A lot of Talent names seem bizarre too. All of this repository of names seems odd,” she wondered.

Gomez retreated to his desk, leaving Johanna to convert sets of specializations once again for the rest of the afternoon.

The one thing she quickly noted was that what she’d termed advanced specialization originally now ended their run with a new higher specialization. Like when she made Fire Shapers sets that ended in Ash Shapers or Fire Masters, or when a Quick Battler set led to a Fast Skirmisher final parchment.

At the end of the day, as the returning expedition came with a single Artifact – a large brimmed hat, which looked slightly odd on Laura, but finally fit the defensive purpose – Gomez finally stood up.

“I want to experiment.”

“How so,” Johanna asked.

“Mr. Bertram?”

“Me?”

“Yes. It should work out.”

“Sure, why not. What is it about then?” Miles accepted.

“Currently, you’re a Metal Shaper. And based on what your Talents require, you should be at 4 Authority and 2 Strength. Mr. Kartmann and Mr. Foster both agree on what I assume is a Level 8.”

“Okay?”

“Based on what I see, you might qualify for Metal Master, but to do so, you need 5 and 3 respectively. So, what I propose is that you use one of each parchment, and then attempt to use this stand-alone specialization parchment that got made earlier.”

Gomez handed three parchments to Miles.

“You think it works?”

“There is no reason. You should take Authority first, it seemed to be the most expensive in your case. Then if Strength still works… Metal Master should become useable immediately.”

“Okay,” he answered, looking dubious.

“We have plenty of those basic parchments, don’t worry. The worst case is that you lack enough Talent energy for all this.”

The first, then the second parchment lighted up and Miles consumed them. Then he picked the final Metal Master… and light sprang and converged to the central circle. Gomez smiled widely. Then the entire camp erupted in cheers as the parchment vanished.

“Congratulations on becoming Metal Master, Mr. Bertram. I was correct.”

“So… you don’t need the Ancient’s guidance?” the newest Master asked.

“Not really. Once you have a list of requirements, it becomes easy. Or at least easier, I’m still working out how to systematically determine your current values. It’s a bit wonky.”

“In which way?”

“Well, things like Battler, for example, require only 1 Strength and just Level 1. So, you’d expect someone with 1 or more already to be able to activate the simple parchment, and those with zero to require a Strength plus Battler combo so they can activate it.”

“And?”

“Mr. Collins, our driver and my other test subject since he did not want a Talent set, can use the latter combination, so he’s got zero. But me? I can activate Level plus Strength fine, but not Level plus Strength plus Battler. It is as if I’m at minus 1 in Strength…” Gomez’s voice trailed.

“Or there is another explanation.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Or there is. Like it’s not starting at zero. I need more data and experiments.”

Another expedition member asked, “Can you find out whether or not other people qualify for a higher specialization?”

“It is mostly limited to those already at Level 8. All other specializations seem to be at 5. Except for those at 4. Or those at 6, or 7 but those don’t seem to match the expedition, they suggest different sets.”

“So me, Ulrich, Kartmann?” Miles asked.

“I assume that the four ‘Exemplars’ have already received theirs, not just Mrs. Milton.”

“Oh shit, that’s what it was?” Laura said suddenly.

“What?”

“The second day, at the end of the day… I made a Level, Empathy, Combat Fixer parchment, then I got a simple Combat Minister one. I didn’t know what it meant, especially since it did not activate after I made it.”

“Well, you already had your Level. Mr. Milton?” Gomez asked.

“Same thing, the day I leveled. Said Battler Ace,” Tom replied.

“Me too,” Peter said. “Improviser, then Deviser. But that was at the end of the day, yet I got the level during the fight?”

Gomez scrolled in his notes.

“Direct increase in all requirements for all three of you, just like Mrs. Milton’s. That sounds correct.”

“So, what do I need for an improved specialization,” Kartmann asked.

“Let me see… looks like it should be Contender after Duelist… Need at least 1 if not 2 Agility, and 1 Empathy…”

Gomez’s voice trailed as they headed toward the designated parchment wagon, and Johanna relaxed, putting down her plate. It was a weird feeling, seeing people suddenly growing their specialization without having to provide a direct link to the Ancient’s guidance.

Gomez is a godsend, she realized.

The next day was another massive dump of information, but bizarre. It was a simple specialization parchment, then a long series of Talents, then another, with a different series. Gomez immediately noticed the common theme of some of those series.

“I think we’re being shown which Talents go with which specialization,” Gomez said.

“The order is bizarre. It looks like it’s in alphabetical order, but then it restarts,” Johanna noted.

“They’re probably lumped together in various sub-categories for some reason.”

She dutifully converted until the conversion stopped again, to mark the end of the list.

The following day changed the way they produced parchments. Rather than have specialization sets, as they’d made so far, they converted all kinds of combinations, seemingly at random. Talents, with or without Levels and qualities. Specializations, ditto. The one thing that was missing was the four-way combination that had usually started a set.

“Looks like you’re optimizing the books’ usage,” Gomez finally noted.

“How? Oh.”

“There are hardly any pages left on those today. Those random ones along with simple Levels and qualities exhaust the entire book.”

“But how…”

“We have all the data we need to pick what goes with what. I think that we had trainer wheels sets initially, sets you can pick through without knowing any better, and now, we get a common pool of options to select from.”

“The wagon is filling up.”

“The cook says we still have enough food for a week here, maybe. I estimate you’re making eleven thousand parchments a day, altogether.”

She suddenly had vertigo.

“Probably close to 140k when we’re done. There is still room for my books…”

One of the Library explorers had finally uncovered an engineering section. Gomez had spent an entire day sorting through the collection and forbade anyone from touching the rest. Not that it was necessary, even with nearly 2500 books a day, they had barely touched the reserves of “fluff” books. And Gomez had informed the expedition that the Library covered three individual buildings. They had not checked inside, but the other two were also reasonably intact and probably held even more books.

“That’s absolutely unimaginable. You could raise something like ten thousand people to full Talents, maybe more, just with this. And we can come back after winter,” Johanna realized.

“Or even before. Picking the right expedition composition, you can probably set up a permanent base, with regular wagon escorts for resupply and transport back of the ‘finished product’. If just five million books are still there, you can spend the next half-decade permanently stationed here. If you do this once a year, you’ll never see the end of it.”

Johanna stopped and pondered.

“What will happen when we’re old? Once we die? Who will convert books?”

“Well, that is a question that you will have to answer for yourself. I hope your patron has an answer ready because it’s not sustainable.”

The new window popped almost by surprise. Moore finally had the ability he had expected. And although his space beyond reality was not entirely euclidean in his perception, he noted that this one filled the fourth side of Johanna's rectangular descriptor. Descriptors, scroll settings making, “Pull” and what looked like the last possibility.

No more sides to open up. Unless the interface is as screwy as the rest.

Then he looked at the cost calculations and almost immediately released the window.

Not only does it take 150k, plus 10k per level, but it also consumes XP per level per second? WTF.

He was tempted to test, as it lacked any help function, and all he had was the name, just like Pull. And a kind of UI that suggested trickery with skills. But the costs were truly insane. For that amount, Moore could give them multiple levels, boost stats, and everything that could help them thrive. For the 230k base, he could give one level to everyone, and the 10th level to half of them.

Technically, it was his experience to use, as he saw fit. But the difference was that his experience was entirely for consumables. He used it, and it was gone. For the four, each XP improved things and would stay with them pretty much forever, until the day they died.

Moore had looked at the planning. In a couple of days, the expedition would have to leave. If he tried to use it now to see how it truly worked, he would have not enough left to do it again if he found a better occasion. Given the costs, he would have to wait for the next expedition for a second opportunity.

Okay. I can try to Pull again. Even if the communication was not obvious, to him that is, he knew Johanna would pick something of his intent. She had to be ready for a new “chat”.

And 9k XP is cheap, he laughed internally at the conceit. Eight thousand XP had seemed such a big deal last December.

You get a different perspective when in DC, they say.

Johanna stepped into the Library's reading room, with its reading desks and alcoves. This time, it was well-lighted, although she realized the windows were still stained to opacity. The light... came from nowhere. As she looked, she realized that four drapes of bright blue hung at the four cardinal directions of the room, over each door. But instead of some heraldic city symbol or the eagle of the Ancients, the drapes had four dark squares. Actually, three and a half. On one she could see and hear the distant laughter of Kartmann around a campfire with a building and stone stair not far behind the minotaur.

Tom, she knew. She was sleeping in the main expedition wagon.

She looked around, but He was not difficult to find. In the middle of the room, behind the librarian’s central desk, there was a bizarre chair made of metal rods and wires and on it, a skeleton made of darkened bones sat. Sat, and looked at her, with his strange eyes that were simultaneously empty, and full of blue light. She walked slowly across the room until she stood next to the desk. Looking down, she saw four of the parchments. Where “ordinary” parchments had light turning along the ink, those were fully lighted and had the words slowly rotating instead. Reading, she saw that the names slowly changed as they made a turn around the parchment. Ash Master. Investiture of Fire. Plasma Ruler. Shield of Momentum. Fire Sovereign. Anti-Mana Sphere. Cycle Master.

You have achieved what was needed, the strange - Telepathic - voice of the Skeleton announced.

“You pointed us here.”

The skeleton did not answer and she looked briefly at another of the four parchments. Like the first, the words rotated rather than the light, and other names came and went. Triple Strike. Unnatural Ace. Twisting Hits. Battlefield Professional. Primal Applied Force.

She realized that she was seeing more Talents and specializations. Ones she had not seen before. Fire Sovereign… after Fire Master? Battlefield Professional after Battler Ace?

“Is that what we can be later?”

You have many things to do yet, the Skeleton replied, and she realized he’d been watching the same parchment she had.

“You… have not provided those,” she asked. “On parchments, I mean.”

The future is unwritten. You have what you need at the moment, even if you will need more, he replied. Inevitably, he added.

The Skeleton stood and started walking. She backed away as he passed through the reception desk’s wood and started going between the reader desks. She turned and hurried, following it to a side door from the Library reading room.

As in the previous Dream of the Ancient, what was beyond the door was entirely different from where she had been a moment ago. It was a courtyard, surrounded by tall stone walls, a tower… for a moment, she found herself back in the Warden’s castle in New Benton. The courtyard was uncannily reminiscent of it, even if it lacked the various training gear that she’d grown accustomed to the year before. This version of her old training ground was bare, and clouds turned ominously above, leaving a single eye like a miniature storm.

The only thing in the middle of that courtyard was the Skeleton’s chair, the one he’d just left inside the Library. She turned and saw that the stained glass doors she’d crossed were there, although closed, and she was briefly tempted to check if the chair was still there, before looking again.

The skeleton was seated, and people started coming out of the tower and battlements, descending stairs toward the courtyard.

No, not people she realized. Ghostly versions of people, indistinct figures through which she could see walls, stairs, and the ground. And the ghostly figures were strange. One seemed to be covered in flames, another clad in plate armor, which, combined with the ghostly effect, made it like the silhouette was just an animated armor. Another held a sword and a mace in each hand, their position switching abruptly. The ghosts paired off and started to spar with each other.

You have brought power to the world, but only power can control power, the Skeleton said, as the grand melee kept on.

“You’re saying only Talented can fight against other Talented,” she realized.

She sighed.

The Skeleton wasn’t wrong, after all.