Day 0
Consciousness came slowly, like the smell of coffee in the morning. Languid. First, a sensation of floating, or of being cocooned in blankets, or… confusion started to seep in. Flashes of memories, a sense of self. He. He couldn’t feel his arms or legs, or really much of anything at all regarding his body. Just a warm fuzzy distance from everything. Worry joined the confusion and began to banish the warmth and fuzziness.
Light intruded. Did his eyes open? Well, he could see…
He was floating just above green grass, with a dark blue sky, like the last gasp of a sunset, overhead. A scattering of stars cast more light than he would have expected. A thick barrier of trees surrounding what appeared to be a meadow, the trees too dark to see through, thick with underbrush and not too tall. It all gave a feeling of being new and alive. A menu appeared, quite like a game, easy to read but not casting any light.
—
Name: Phoenix
Status: Error, indeterminate…
Attributes: Error, undetermined…
Error…
—
Phoenix! Well, it was a start. Phoenix felt slightly better, knowing he had a name. The name came with more flashes of memories, a life lived, things done, did he… did he die…? A lot of errors in that list, which lead to more anxiety. One by one, the errors were replaced.
—
Name: Phoenix
Status: Destination Lost. Journey interrupted.
Attributes: 100 points
Waiting for input.
—
Oh well, that made things perfectly clear! Or not, as the case may be. Phoenix tried to sigh. Then he tried to speak. With a bit of a shock, sensations returned. Soft plush grass and earth beneath his feet, gentle warm breeze on his skin, a kind of hoarse croak followed by a swallow. His body was back! Or rather, he had a body now, naked and shaking slightly with adrenaline but not a body that matched his disjointed memories. He stretched his arms, twisted his back, gave himself a quick once over visually and with his hands. Youngish, early twenties? Felt healthy with no aches or pains, not hungry or tired. Male, which seemed right. Paler than he remembered as well, like he hadn’t seen the sun in a winter’s age. No hair… anywhere. Honestly that was a bit disconcerting. The menu shimmered as it updated again.
—
Name: Phoenix
Status: Soul Wandering
Attributes: 51 points
Strength: 7 Constitution: 7, Coordination: 7, Mentality: 7, Will: 7, Charisma: 7, Luck: 7
No Boons. No Flaws.
—
Fifty one points left, was he meant to spend these? He felt like the rules of this game were not at all clear. But before that, why was he in a game? So many questions…
“I can offer answers”.
Phoenix nearly jumped clean out of his skin. Clutching his chest in a mild panic, he turned to see a glowing silver ball with several orbiting rings around it. Each of the rings had a series of rocks embedded in it, scattered randomly across their perimeters. The soft silver light actually made his skin itch, his left eye started to twitch repeatedly and uncontrollably, and he felt the beginning of a headache forming, as he tried to figure out what it was he was looking at.
“Who… what? Uh..” he stuttered out.
“Calmly, Phoenix. I haven’t much patience for the usual questions, so allow me to address the common ones now. I am Numena. I am a deity, if you are comfortable with the term, although I am not what your world calls God.” It paused then, as if to give him some time to absorb the information. Phoenix felt a wave of vertigo wash over him, and sat down quickly, still trying to assess what his eyes were telling him. What he thought might have been orbiting rocks around a sun actually were long thin strands of something darker all tangled up into a pattern that concerningly resembled eyes. But not quite eyes. He clapped a hand over his left eye to try to stop it from spasming.
“You are dead, your soul has failed to do what it was supposed to do when you die, and this is because you are dead at the wrong time and for the wrong reason. Apologies for the error, but be reassured that there is a process to handle these fortunately rare occurrences.” Another pause, and Phoenix could feel his blood pounding in his temples.
“Wait” he managed to interrupt “Could you, um, is there a way to change what you look like? No lack of respect, uh, your worship, but you are seriously difficult to look at.”
Numena immediately shifted forms, assuming a genderless, androgynous humanoid form with a short shock of hair-like material on their head and two eyes formed from those disturbing tangled strands. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Continuing to answer your doubtlessly long list of questions, your badly timed death is in no way your fault or responsibility, but you can not return from whence you came, with or without memory of what is going on right now. The panel, to use a simplistic term, you see in your visual range, is a shorthand way to rebuild you, select a destination, and provide you with certain skills and powers such that you may survive at that destination. As well as two bonuses as an apology for the abrupt transition and any perceived failure of the system.”
He was feeling much better now that Numena had switched appearances, and his brain was quickly catching up to the torrent of information they were raining down on him.
“So, gods are real, souls exist, it is possible to die before you are fated to die, and doing so gets you sent to a cool new place with a set of cheat powers?” his tone was maybe a little too incredulous to be perfectly polite.
Numena pinched the bridge of their nose, almost a parody of the human gesture with how deliberate and calm they were. “Gods are… not as you are thinking. I am a deity in the sense that my area of responsibility is the transfer of spiritual energy between stable state-spaces of the universe, also known as planes, worlds, dimensions, etcetera. Other self aware entities have diverse responsibilities that are complementary to mine, and we retain enough freedom of action to effect changes not directly related to our roles. Your soul, to put it in slightly more complex yet understandable terms, is a construct of your identity that exists in an alternate dimension from who you were before. Having your soul lingering around when it should be moving on leaves a mess in these alternate dimensions, a mess that it is my task to clean up. The bonuses you might choose are well within the rules and thus are in no way cheats of any kind. And finally, my advice to you would be to reserve judgment on how cool or not your destination is going to be.”
Well, that wasn’t at all comforting.
“Let us do this promptly then. Distribute your points, pick your boons, and you will be on your way.” Numena folded their legs and sat in front of him, their gaze focused on his face.
He was starting to feel ever so slightly like this was not the best way to approach the situation he was in.
“Again, meaning no disrespect, but have I somehow upset you? It is not that I am ungrateful, but I feel perhaps that I am an imposition?” nothing ventured, nothing gained, he hoped.
“You are.” flat and monotone, if not precisely angry, was their response.
He swallowed at that, but braved onward. “Well, apologies for further imposing, but I was hoping for some explanation perhaps? Or, maybe a list of what each of these does to.. Me? How about a list of boons?”
Numena waved a hand, theatrically, and a list formed next to his screen, empty but with the words “Qualifying Boons” at the top. “The attributes should be intuitively obvious, even to you. It is not my place to baby you through this process. Warnings will appear on screen if you attempt to deviate from life sustaining parameters, or reach excess levels that might cause a sudden destruction of your personality. Beyond that, choose what you think reflects your values or what you imagine your goals are to be.”
Personality death? LIfe sustaining? How very reassuring! And no easy explanation, he would have to intuit how this went. Well he would just have to mess around and find out. Right?
Grimly, he looked over the attributes. He didn’t know anything about anything, really, so he took Numena’s backhanded advice. His memories were distorted and fragmentary, so goals and values were a bit vague, but he knew he had been well educated, in a thinking type job. Not one to work with his hands or sweat out in the sun. So, with nothing else to start from, he started there. He poked “Mentality”, noted the interface for increasing and decreasing the value, and pumped it up. At 13, a few items appeared on the list next to him. Enhanced Memory. Enhanced Learning. Empathy Deficit. The last one was in red. A flaw, no doubt. At 17, they changed again. Eidetic Memory. Exemplar Learning. Enhanced Decision Loop. Personality Disorder? Well, being a sociopath sounded bad, odd that it appeared at higher mentality scores. He kept going.
At 21 the boons upgraded again, but it stopped him from going further, and a red warning flashed above. “Further increases result in unacceptable probability of personality death.” Well that was certainly clear enough. He left it there for now, he might have to come back and lower it later.
37 points remained. He could peanut butter that out to a 13 in each of the remaining 6 scores, which would likely open up a number of boons if the first 13 was any indication…
Time passed. Some of the rules of this place became clear, some remained opaque. 13 and then steps of 4 above that were clear breakpoints for boons and flaws, and the higher the more impressive sounding they both were. Certain combinations of low and high also resulted in red warning messages, such as high strength but low constitution. He found he could take 2 boons for free, as mentioned by Numena, and then an extra boon for every flaw, and that the boons had a variety of effects, such as letting his mentality push upwards past 21 without threat of personality death. Most interesting however, was the combination of at least 17 in each of mentality, will, and charisma. A new boon, this one purple in color, appeared then- Arcane Adept.
Magic? For real? Now that was exciting!
“Numena, is where I am going a place of magic? Like in a story?” He eyed them carefully, not that the featureless form they had taken revealed anything.
Whatever they were doing to occupy themselves during this extended messing around, it wasn't enough to delay Numena’s response. “It is more accurate to say that if you accept that boon or one of several like it, you will be directed to a matching destination.” They then returned to their inner thoughts, or to staring at their navel, it was hard to tell.
Phoenix nodded at that. On the one hand, he liked running water, health care, and relative peace and prosperity. On the other hand, magic. Ugh, I will regret not taking it, I know I will.
“Perhaps I can offer you something that would tilt the balance in favor of the arcane?” A breathy feminine alto murmured in his ear. He yelped and spun around, looking for the source. Would be nice to not be surprised at every turn!
Another figure stood there, just behind where he had been standing. Of a height with him and Numena both, but distinctly feminine in form, with long pitch black hair past her shoulders and curves of a bosom and hips, although still lacking details as if a statue or doll. Her eyes were two deep blue pools of softly glowing light, speckled by what appeared to be white stars.
Numena was drawn from their contemplations again. “Archanae. What brings you to interfere with this rather trivial matter. It is beneath you, is it not?”
“Beneath me, is it?” Archanae gave every impression of smiling, without a mouth or nose to do so with, just the crinkling of her eyes and the tilt of her head. “Rather than beneath me, I think it shows a measure of desperation on my part.”
Numena seemed to be losing interest rapidly. “Stay within the boundaries of my rules then, if you must be here. And try not to delay him unnecessarily, he is already suffering from a decision making disorder it seems.”
Phoenix was looking back and forth between them, but took this opportunity to wave at the newcomer. “Phoenix, although I guess you probably know that. Nice to meet you, your holiness?” He raised an eyebrow to emphasize the question mark.
“Your holiness. Yes, that is acceptable. And while I would like to claim vast knowledge and power, what I know about you is strictly limited. Really, what I saw over your shoulder just now, and some trivial other pieces. Truly what matters is that I have an offer for you, with a boon as an inducement for you to accept. Will you hear me out?” She waited for his nod before proceeding.
“Excellent. I represent one of two sister deities who have been overseeing a world as it recovers from an infestation of, well, demons, for lack of a better word. As you have probably already guessed by my very presence, it is not going well. What I would like from you is to be my representative, troubleshooter, Man Friday, if you will. Explicitly, this is because I am forbidden from directly intervening in affairs, for many complicated but not particularly interesting reasons. To facilitate our communication as well as provide me with a maximal return on my investment, I would ask you to take one of the Arcane Adept series of boons, which I would give you for free. A good deal, yes?”
Phoenix almost blurted out yes right away, after all he had been almost convinced to take the boon on his own and this way he could grab another interesting boon instead! But, behind Archanae, he saw Numena shake their head, ever so slightly, without looking up or at him. He paused at that, as something in that motion made him cautious.
“I am… willing to negotiate something like that, your holiness.” He drew the sentence out and the subtle nod from Numena sent a wash of adrenaline through him.
Archanae, for her part, tapped her chin contemplatively. “Negotiate?” She looked over her shoulder at the once again distant and apparently immobile form of Numena. “Yes, of course, negotiate. I am, to be quite clear, only interested in your willing and eager participation in this endeavor. Anything less would be a disservice to you and potentially disastrous for me.”
His brain was racing furiously now. Clearly Archanae was indeed desperate enough to entertain a counter offer, but what to ask for? Wait, before all that, what was he even signing up for? Slavery in all but name?
“As you say, eager and willing is best.” he extemporized. “Could you go into some details regarding this service you are asking for?”
“Naturally. Rest assured, it is not as onerous as you might think. I fully expect that, once you are safely into the world and see what is going on, you would want to accomplish the same goal that I have. Which is this- stabilize the indigenous population of races such that extinction is averted.“ She crossed her arms, giving the impression of sterness to her features.
“Further, while you are in my service and in service to that goal, I ask that you abide by a few simple restrictions. Common sense, really.” She raised her hand as he opened his mouth to speak. “Yes yes, here they are. First, that you will at all times act in such a way as to not bring dishonor, shame, or infamy to my name. I am broad minded and tolerant, but explicitly such acts as rape, murder of innocents, necromancy, and similarly hateful or intolerable acts fall under this category. Second, once every twenty eight days, you will perform a ritual which will enable us to communicate directly, during which you will update me on the status of any goals you have, and I will instruct you on any new goals you should add. This is mandatory, with the exception of being physically unable to do so due extenuating circumstances. Finally, while you are free to act within those parameters as you see fit, you should make a good faith effort to work towards completing any goals given, unless doing so would somehow violate the first clause.” She tilted her head and crinkled her eyes again, in that version of a smile she had. “Not so bad right?”
“No, your holiness, that seems quite reasonable. And I presume there are consequences for violations?” He kept his head bowed slightly, the picture of humility, but his eyes flickered back to Numena to see if any more hints would be forthcoming.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
“Well, I don’t think you will need to worry about that, being as good and obedient as you are. But for the sake of completeness, yes, there is an escalating scale of consequences for violations, which as part of the bargain you will consent to undergoing should the cause arise. These range from being given remedial goals during our monthly interaction which will either educate you on better behavior or mitigate the consequences of your failure to comply, to withdrawal of any benefits this bargain has given you, to engaging other resources I might have to chastise, contain, or redirect you. I emphasize that the final list is strictly a last resort, one I would take for violations of the first term or for willfully preventing achievement of the primary goal.”
“And would either of us be able to terminate this agreement?” he ventured.
“Once entered, the agreement is permanent and binding.” This was given with considerably more intensity and a lack of the playful tone Arachnae had been using before.
Right, clear enough. So, no instant death from lightning strike, it seemed, which was a good sign. And no supernatural mind control, just carrot and stick. It seemed no worse a deal generally than that he would get being employed, back in his previous life. One thing that he didn’t like was the loss of any benefits given, presumably meaning the boon or whatever else he negotiated for. Being suddenly without a boon that was keeping him alive seemed like excess amounts of leverage, to him anyway. It wasn’t like he intended to break any deals but best to set himself up to succeed regardless in case something went horribly wrong in the future.
“Well, that seems straightforward enough, your holiness, and I would ask for two boons…” He saw Arachnae’s eye widen, and quickly switched tactics to his second choice “But I am not greedy. Instead, I would request the benefit of your greater knowledge and experience when distributing these points and selecting my other boons and flaws? Well begun is half done, after all, and my lack of knowledge is quite daunting in this realm.”
He felt Numena’s gaze, and wondered if he had inadvertently broken some rule. Apparently Arachnae too, could sense the disapproval, for she turned. “This is acceptable, dear colleague?”
“It is acceptable for you to give advice and reasoned suggestions. It is not acceptable for you to build him into your perfect pet. Outside of what you give him, those are his choices, his gifts, his compensation for the wrongs done to him in the past. I will not have you steal that from him.” Numena was suddenly quite fierce in tone, all traces of disinterest cast aside. It was quite heartwarming in a way.
“Well, quite easily solved! I offer my help on condition that Numena approves of the end result. There, what could be more fair than that!” Again her slight tilt of a smile, a sense of smug added on top.
Phoenix too, gave a pained smile, sensing dimly some of the interplay below the surface. A twinge of guilt, for dragging Numena into something they didn’t want.
“Fine. Be about it then, this is already highly unusual and he is not the only task I must attend to in this realm and during this time I have.” Can deities get huffy?
Phoenix spent some time discussing builds with Arachne, and was nearly finished. With four attribute points remaining, he was waffling between constitution and luck for the last break points. Arachnae had suggested investing more heavily in constitution, but he felt like his previous life had been on the poor side of the luck scale too often, and did not want a repeat in this new one. In the end, he split the difference, with the flaw Poor Grip Strength providing him an extra point below the minimum in his Strength to get both Constitution and Luck to the minimum break point of 13.
One piece of advice he had followed was to pick a theme and lean into it heavily, in this case taking the mental support skills that Arachnae assured him would enhance his arcane abilities substantially. The Poor Grip Strength meant that handling heavy tools, such as most weapons, would be awkward and difficult. But he intended to accomplish those tasks through magical might instead, so it was an acceptable tradeoff. The Chemical Susceptibility flaw unlocked at Constitution 13 made ingested toxins more potent, so he figured he was a cheap drunk and maybe got all the side effects from any drugs he would take, but that seemed like a small price to pay for power.
For the boons, Perfect Memory was like a fantasy version of photographic memory, but without any apparent downsides. Anything he paid attention to could be recalled with exacting accuracy, but so too could anything be dismissed if desired, so trauma and pain would not haunt him any more than someone without Perfect Memory. Combined with Prodigal Learning, he could expect to learn facts with one reading, and even languages would reach conversational levels in a day or two!
Enhanced Decision Loop was the ability to evaluate and then choose a course of action, much more quickly and with fewer errors than your average person. To be honest with himself, the decision making disorder jab that Numena had sent his way was half the reason he picked it, the other half being a vague idea that it might let him act more decisively in crisis situations and thus be a survival enhancer. He had a notion that learning a large number of magical abilities might paralyze him with a breadth of choice otherwise!
While not tied directly to his survival, Prodigal Learning was an enormous boost to his ability to gain magical knowledge and thus power, making learning any mental skill or task the work of hours or days, rather than weeks or months. Even primarily physical skills would be impressively accelerated, due to a better ability to visualize and precisely emulate and repeat them.
Arachnae had been adamant that Arcane Adept be the boon that came with his Contractual Commitment. He however was still nervous about potentially having his magic stripped away from him by an angry deity, so the compromise was Hero Soul instead. Hero Soul hadn’t shown up in the list at all until Arachnae mentioned it as an option, which made him feel like he might have just gotten played. Still, it was hard to say no- Hero Soul meant that, should he meet an untimely end while still in Arachnae’s good graces, he would return to this realm “until such time as his resources permitted a new incarnation.” Which sounded like immortality, albeit with limitations. Arachnae’s stern warning lingered “Now, don’t throw yourself off any cliffs. Time proceeds to tick away while you fiddle around here, and your goals won’t go away either, so it behooves you to minimize your visits and your length of stay. Once you incarnate it will be very clear to you just how many losses you can suffer that are worse than death.”
In the end, Arachnae seemed satisfied, although she had mentioned for completeness sake other paths he could take, more physically oriented or more closely tied to her own power. He had a pretty good vision of his new life however, a scholar and magic user who could solve big problems with careful thought and the application of magic, and be happy and fulfilled working on such a long term and intractable problem as potential species extinction.
“So that all looks good, what can I expect when I get to… where am I going again?” he looked at Arachnae quizzically.
“The world has a name, Lia, although only the highly educated know that it is but one world among many. You will be incarnating at my most important temple, in the capital city of the Empire of Tul’Lia, Bastion of the North, and the largest, most populated, most technically advanced, and best organized nation left on the planet. There you will meet my High Priestess who will provide you with a place to stay, whatever resources you require, and an introduction to magical education in the city itself. While you will have certain minor goals while you are in school, we need to get you up to speed quickly and there is no better place than the Academy for that. I expect you will be ready to graduate in a very short time, given your choices. After that, well we can worry about it then, but that is when your real work will begin.”
Phoenix felt reassured. He would be in friendly territory, greeted by allies, and provided with the tools and knowledge needed to succeed. While he was sure there would be challenges and problems, nothing seemed like it was deliberately set up to sabotage him or make things difficult. He turned to Numen.
“Numen, your holiness, I think I am ready.”, he bowed slightly in front of them, excited and still a little nervous.
Numen directed their still disturbing gaze his way, then stood upright. They glanced over the panel quickly, then nodded decisively. “I approve, so this is your last chance. Even if you return here, these choices are finalized and can not be taken back. Say ‘I agree and I am ready’ if you are sure you are done.”
He stood staring at Numen for a moment, then glanced back at Arachnae who crinkled her eyes in a smile. Steeling himself, he nodded once. “I agree and I am ready.”.
He felt his eyes close.
And he was then elsewhere.
Day 1
—
Name: Phoenix
Status: Incarnation Transfer, redirected.
Attributes: 0 points
Strength: 6 Constitution: 13, Coordination: 13, Mentality: 21, Will:17, Charisma: 17, Luck: 13
Boons: Arcane Adept, Perfect Memory, Prodigal Learning, Enhanced Decision Loop, Hero Soul.
Flaws: Poor Grip Strength, Chemical Susceptibility.
Other: Contractual Commitment (Hero Soul)
Luck Uses: 0, 1 point used and refreshing (24 hours).
Hit Points: 14
Height: 178 cm. Weight: 71 kg
—
His eyes opened. The glowing panel of his stats hovered there, before him. The first impression he had was that Arachnae’s temple was decidedly run down, for such an important place. He was lying, naked, on a stone box of some kind- an altar? Bright sunlight streamed in from a crack in the ceiling, shining down on a statue that was made to vaguely resemble Arachnae, which stood to one side of him, one arm holding a chain that looked incomplete, another broken off at the elbow. Dust and debris littered the room, tickling his sinuses enough to make him sneeze. The walls were pale stone, intricately worked, and the ceiling had the flaking remains of a fresco painted on it, but heavily damaged by whatever had broken through to leave that crack.
It didn’t take a Mentality of 21 to figure out something was wrong.
It was cold, as well. Not cold enough to be dangerous, at least not immediately, but definitely cold enough to wish he had some clothes on. A careful scrutiny of the nearby floor showed it to be dirty but not dangerous, made of stone and heavily pitted, with a pile of crushed rock in one corner underneath the hole in the ceiling. He swung his legs over the side of the altar-thing and stood. A quick internal debate on calling out versus quiet exploration fell in favor of quiet exploration, as this place gave every indication of being abandoned, or if not abandoned, certainly not being cared for by helpful priestesses.
The door in the entryway of the room had long ago fallen off its hinges and disintegrated so, doing his best to tiptoe quietly and carefully through the mess, he put an eye around the threshold. It opened into a much larger chamber, vaulted and held up with flying buttresses some several stories above him, with another mass of crushed stone and dust heaped in piles across the floor. The walls and ceiling were more plain here, less careful scroll work and no painting. He was on one of the short sides of the rectangle, another large opening revealed sunlight at the other end opposite him, and a smaller opening to his left led into a deeper darkness.
Internally, he indulged in some choice swear words, all the while making his way to the welcoming sunlit exit as quietly as he could manage. A covert scan outside revealed more of the same- rundown (if not completely collapsed) buildings along streets losing the battle against invading grass and trees. Hosts of coniferous trees scattered about, and making the admittedly big assumption that these grew anywhere like as quickly as they did back home, that could mean anywhere from ten to thirty years, if not much much longer. Most importantly, no civilization, no resources, no tools, minimal shelter, no clothing, no food, no clean water. He was really in trouble.
During all this, his stats panel had faded from his view, but suddenly a small part of it reappeared.
—
Status: Incarnation Finished Successfully.
Skills: Ritual (Worship Arachnae) 20%. Speak Language Tul’Lian 75%. Read and Write Language Tul’Lian 75%.
—
He was still not used to this panel, and numerous questions sprung to mind about what all this skill stuff meant, such as how many skills were there and was 75% good or bad or middling? But all of that was forced to wait. First, attend to needs. Breathable air was not a factor, but water, clothes, and shelter were all competing for who would be most critical, time wise. If it was uncomfortably cool but not freezing now, in the bright light of day, come nightfall it could be downright miserable, possibly even deadly. Competing with that worry was the fact that this dust had made it apparent how dry his throat was, and while the rubric was two days without water, he didn’t think he would be very functional on the second day. Making assumptions was a good way to end up dead, but again he lacked information and thus the ability to make informed choices, so the best he could do is all he could do.
Based on a quick calculation of the sun’s angle above him (assuming morning, assuming 24 hour days, a higher up latitude, no apparent mountains… thank you, suddenly clear and surprisingly quick mind) it was midmorning. He would allocate till mid afternoon for the search for water, and then the rest of the afternoon for heat of some kind. Have the plan (such as it is), execute the plan.
He decided that the trees were denser to the south (assuming that the sun was to the east) so that was the direction he headed. He was cautious in his prowl, both to protect his bare feet from the harsh, weather worn stones of the street and to maintain the stealth he had observed so far, in case… anything. Predators, bandits, territorial moose. Well he was being cautious anyway.
First piece of good news, Phoenix almost immediately stumbled across a stream. It was obviously an old canal of some kind, large square stones framing a deep but surprisingly clean flow of water maybe a city block south of where he had appeared. Following it a short ways to the east, he found a bend that led it practically to the backyard of the temple itself! The bend had worn a bit at the stone embankment, and a sandy rubble strewn beach had formed, along with a slower pool of water opposite it filled with lazy fish, and all about the soft croaking of frogs. Water sorted, for the most part. He didn’t drink immediately, as he couldn’t judge the presence of parasites, toxins, or diseases, and he wasn’t so thirsty yet that the risk had to be taken.
Instead, he went searching for dry wood. This turned out to be abundant, as the trees all around had deposited branches of various sizes across the buildings and roadways, along with a healthy mat of dead needles. He brought two scratchy, annoying bundles of wood back to the large room. There were no fireplaces inside, but the altar room had collapsed sufficiently that he could create a firebreak from the stone and see that most of the smoke would exit from the damage in the roof, while still having the fire protected from rain by what remained.
“Now, if I just had an iron pot…” he mumbled. He looked around, expectantly, but no iron pots suddenly appeared and he started contemplating plan B. Again, the altar room proved fortuitous, as it had a decently sized hole in the floor, made of solid stone. If he could fill it, he could drop hot rocks from the fire inside and boil the water, which would at least kill parasites and bacteria. Now, outside of cupping his hands together and carefully dragging handfuls of water back here… huh. Did he know how to make a basket? Well, no not really. I mean he was aware that you could use reeds (he had none) or leaves (still no) or bendy branches (probably from the trees) into a tightly woven shape that might be tight enough to hold water. Maybe. His instincts were saying that he could spend a lot of effort to little effect on such a project. “Allright, let us not be lazy.” was his motivating speech for the day.
First he carefully scraped the hole as free from dust as he could make it. After that, It took a ghastly amount of time to haul the water up to the hole, tedious but reliable. While his hands dried, he ranged a bit further out along the canal, eventually finding some long grasses growing in a clearing to the west. Harvesting a bunch, he returned to his little encampment and contemplated making a firebow. Starter rock, easily enough found. Holder rock, sure no problem. Stick to hold between them, yep. The bow however proved tricky. His first two strings snapped even as he tried to weave them. The third, while it held together well enough to be attached to the springy twig he had for the purpose, fell apart almost instantly when he tried to use it to spin the stick. Sighing, he gave up for the time being and placed the stick between his palms, and began to twirl.
If he thought hauling water with his bare hands was ghastly and tedious, it had nothing on the time and frustration that getting a fire going with a stick, a rock, and wood shavings took. The only good thing he had to say about the ordeal was that it actually did work in the end, a thin trail of smoke which he oh so carefully blew into a dim flame, and then fed bit by bit into a healthy fire. His hands suffered greatly for it however, raw, blistered, and bleeding a bit by the end. Still, he had fire, he had water, he had crude but hopefully sufficient shelter. He could survive the first night, he hoped. Three rocks carefully withdrawn from the fire with long sticks boiled the water in the hole nicely, which by the time it cooled he drank deeply from, then used the remainder to clean his damaged hands. He then arranged a bed of dried pine needles, which were prickly but warmer than sleeping on the stone ground, a wall of broken masonry to reflect the heat of the fire back to where he planned to sleep, and then more trudging of water and wood until dark descended fully.
Then he collapsed on his pine needle bed, chewing his pine needle dinner to get the growling of his stomach to settle a little, while his pine wood fire spat piney wooden smoke into the room, but only enough to make his eyes sting a little. His legs were sore from all the back and forth of the day, the palms of his hands were on fire and his fingers and wrists ached, innumerable scratches and tiny cuts and pokes covered most of the rest of his skin.
Only now, in the dim firelight, did he let himself really reflect on his situation. In all, he was miserable. He allowed himself a few minutes to indulge in feeling sorry for himself. He was physically exhausted but his mind was still going a mile a minute, churning over his terrifying lack of information, and thus consequent lack of options and plans. What did he really have? His assets were all mental, and his greatest asset, the Arcane Adept boon, he had no idea how to access or use! At this rate, it was quite likely he would slowly starve to death before he could reach the end of the month and use the ritual to contact Arachnae for guidance and…
He nearly smacked himself in the forehead before remembering the pain in his palms. His contractual obligation was to contact her once every 28 days, it said nothing about not contacting her more often than that! “No matter how smart you are, you can't avoid the stupid… ugh.” he cursed himself, then sat up.
He was stumped however, by how to even do this ritual. Arachnae had not explained it, discussing the process as if it were obvious, and he hadn’t questioned the assumption. Hell, he didn’t even know how to get the panel to show up on command… oh, there we go. Apparently just thinking about it worked. He stared at the Ritual (Arachnae Worship) entry. Access. Do. Invoke. Invoke cleared the panel and showed him, sitting in a rather painful version of cross legged with his ankles up on his thighs, hands held together in prayer against his chest.
Ok, so far so typical was his first thought. The words that formed below the image said “Oh most holy Arachnae, hear my prayer.” He scowled a little at that. It wasn’t that he was really against the idea of giving her due respect, but he wasn’t exactly religious, and definitely not a monk or priest, to be begging a deity to hear his prayers. Then again, how religious did you need to be, after meeting, talking to, and even negotiating with, your chosen deity?
Alright then.
Assuming the approved position (he had to lever his left foot onto his thigh, not painfully, but he was only barely limber enough to pull it up there), saying the required words, he waited filled with hope. His prayer was quite immediately answered.
Phoenix, where are you? He felt the words form in his mind much like his own thoughts, although clearly separate.
I haven’t the foggiest clue. An old, possibly very old, abandoned temple of yours, in a so far vacant city in a pine wood forest somewhere cold-ish. Can’t you track me or like, see me or something? Was his response.
No, as I explained earlier my ability to interfere in this realm has strict rules governing it. Someone violated those rules and interfered with your incarnation, and I fear they attempted to bring you directly to them somehow. You are fortunate indeed to have arrived at my temple, however old and abandoned, instead.
He restrained his emotional impulses in his response. I am not safe however. I appeared naked and have only barely staved off thirst and exposure, and hunger is quickly going to be a concern. Is there any way you can help?
Not as much as you would like. came the disappointing reply. I can only truly use this avenue for getting your report on your goals, and giving you direction for your new goals. The purpose of which we are already straining the limits of. So I say to you, your short term goal is to meditate on the nature of the element you need the most, and how you can harness it to meet your needs, for four thousand heartbeats. Your intermediate goal is to use your abilities to survive as best as you can for fourteen days, at which point you will contact me again as you have done now. Do you understand? Her voice had a sense of urgency to it.
What was this, she wanted him to do some kind of spiritual practice? He was going to starve to death!
Do you understand! The urgency was greater now.
I.. your holiness I do not understand, but I will obey. He tried to keep his thoughts from having any snark or bitterness in them. He was pretty sure he didn’t succeed.
Fourteen days, focus on your goals! The nature of the elements! Stay alive! Phoenix… good luck.
And the thoughts were gone.
He opened eyes and cursed. Then he closed his eyes and cursed. Then he heaved a deep breath and let his little tantrum go. He knew, of course, that he was simply very stressed out and his emotions were getting the better of him, but that knowledge didn’t mitigate their existence. He did feel a little better, after. And as he calmed down, his mind attacked the little puzzle of what the hell it was Arachnae had really been trying to say there, at the end.
If I had to guess, I’d say she was trying to command me to practice magic. And that she is going to rely on Hero Soul for when I starve to death. More hope and cope than certainty, but hey, whatever got him through the next four thousand or so heartbeats? What was that, about an hour, give or take? It’s not like he had anything better to do.
First he checked to make sure the fire had plenty of fuel, in case he fell asleep during this ‘goal’, as he didn’t think his hands could survive starting the fire again. Then he set the water to boil again, thinking that by the time he was done it would be good to have something to drink and it would be ready and waiting. Then he sat back down, assumed the position, un-assumed the position as he knew he couldn’t comfortably maintain it for an hour, and finally settled on sitting cross legged on as dense a pad of pine needles as he could gather.
Ok, the nature of the element I need the most. So elements, we got your standard four or maybe five, depending on which tradition you want to go with. Do I really need metal, right now? Ok getting distracted, concentrate! Fire? Yeah, after that battle starting the fire, fire could be needed. Water? Water is good, necessary for life. Air? Air is cold right now, could I do something with that to make it warm? Earth? Let’s put earth to the side for now.
He really wanted to concentrate on fire, as that was a nice, traditional flashy magic show. Fireballs! Explosions! When you thought about powerful wizards, you thought about powerful wizards blowing things up. He could kind of see it too, through his eyelids, dancing in the darkness across from him. As well as hear the quiet bubbling of the boiling water as it cooled, and the gentle breeze coming in from the doorway, feeding the fire and teasing the smoke up and out through the ceiling. And the cold hard stone of earth beneath his seat, solid and enduring through the years. His thoughts were getting a little muddled and slow now, drifting through his mind. Fire… the light danced and he could feel the heat on the front of his body… air… and the breeze felt like it was timed with his breathing, a long slow inhale in, a long slow exhale out and up through the roof. What was the last part again, he questioned, fuzzy now and feeling disconnected, like he was floating. Harness, for needs. How many heart beats had it been?
Fire. His body was growing quite warm now, all over.
Air. It was just a long slow inhale now, almost like he didn’t ever need to exhale.
How… how many heartbeats?
His eyes opened, of their own accord.
—
Magic: Fire, Air , Conjure, Draw.
—
Oh damn it worked. Then his eyes closed like they were being drawn shut by weights, and he slumped over unconscious.