I gripped one of the hatchets, swiped a few times, then bamfed it into my domain. I swiped again, empty handed ... and when I withdrew the hatchet, it reappeared in my hand, already moving. Yeah, that could come in handy, in the middle of a fight.

“Nice,” I said aloud. “Thanks, Oksar.”

He’d given me the idea. He’s also asked if I could remove things from my domain so that they were already inside a surface. Specifically, inside an enemy. For example, it’d be nice to shift a tree-branch into existence that was already impaling a dire puma’s chest.

I didn’t want to risk breaking my hatchets, so I grabbed a twig from the side of the veranda. I pointed the twig like a wand, then shifted it into my domain. Then I pressed my hand against the stone wall of the temple. If the twig remained in the same position when I removed it from my domain, it should be embedded inside the stone. And then later inside, say, a thornspider’s body.

Except when I tried, I couldn’t remove the twig from my domain.

Not until I moved my hand a few inches away. Then it popped into place, sharply angled to one side, pressed against the wall but not embedded.

“Okay, so no impaling people with domain stuff,” I said.

Then I turned my attention to the next big item on my ‘take stock of my situation’ list: I checked my sheet.

* * *

Alex Levin

Anomaly

Level 1, Wax Tier

Archmage Status

Boons:

Domain (1/5)

Intuit (1/5)

Support (1/5)

Treasure (1/5)

Gems:

Smoke

Aptitudes:

Spear

Attributes

Strength: 6

Agility: 12

Fortitude: 5

Dexterity: 15

Alertness: 10

Speed: 8

Spirit: 9

Design: 14

Derived

Health: 21/21

Mana: 19

Craft: 14

Movement: 9

Available points: 7

* * *

“Seven? Why seven? Six for unlocking the gem, one for killing the spider. Minus one for ...” I checked my sheet again. “Aptitude? That’s what I get for one point? Fine. Minus one point for Spear Aptitude, that should leave six. Unless ...”

Unless I’d gotten another point along the way, and hadn’t noticed. Maybe I should’ve checked my sheet more often. Still, at least now I knew how to add points. I’d learned that from my desperate acceptance of ’Spear.’ I just had to harness my mental need or intense desire, and the option would pop into my mind.

So, seven points.

My first instinct was to put all seven into Fortitude, because ‘not dying’ was at the top of my list of things to do. But I needed to get stronger and faster, too. Hell, I needed to get better at everything, except goddamn Design.

“So four points in Fortitude, two in Strength, one in Speed?” I asked the evening air.

I didn’t know if that made sense. I wondered if bulking up my strong spots--Dexterity and Agility--was smarter than sinking points into my weakest attributes. On the other hand, my weakest attributes were so weak.

And Oksar had been pretty impressed by Domain. Maybe I should put points into that. I didn’t think I needed a bigger Domain, but I liked the idea of doing that as a gesture to him. On the other hand, maybe I’d wait until I wasn’t at immediate risk of death to honor his memory.

“Oh, screw it,” I muttered. “I don’t know.”

I added four to Fortitude, two to Strength, one to Speed and--

Heat bloomed in my chest then spread through my body with the pounding of my pulse. I dropped the twig in my hand. My blood felt like lava. My heart pumped harder, pushing fire into my brain, my fingers, my lungs, into every fibre of my body, every cell. Scalding my eyes, turning the world a bright red. The sensation was shockingly intense, yet not quite painful ...

And after what felt like a full minute, the pounding molten burn stopped abruptly, as if it had never been.

Then the twig I’d dropped hit the ground.

Oh! So a full minute hadn’t passed. Hell, a full second hadn’t passed. And I felt ... amazing. Strong. Rooted in the ground. And solid, too.

I cracked my neck, then thought ‘Attributes.’ Then I thought, ‘Uh, updated Attributes.”

* * *

Attributes

Strength: 8

Fortitude: 9

Speed: 9

Derived

Health: 35/35

* * *

Damn. If this was what a nine in Fortitude felt like, I couldn’t even imagine a fifteen. I’d never felt this good, not even close.

Then I clocked my new Health score. “Thirty-five! Ha!”

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That had been twenty-something a minute earlier. Twenty-three? Something like that. So four points in Fortitude meant ten in Health? I didn’t remember exactly, but the changes made me feel better about my half-assed choice. I’d never been great at character generation in games. I’d just wanted to start hitting things. But also, I didn’t understand this system. What was the difference between Speed and Movement? What was the deal with Craft? Why were my numbers all over the place, when I was a pretty average guy? What did ‘archmage’ mean?

And, of course, my favorite question: what the fuck was happening?

Still, at least I’d juiced my Health. That was great news. Now I just had to ... what? ‘Clear the courtyard’ of thornspiders. Well, I was stronger now, and I knew what to expect. Plus I was armed, which ...

“Shit!” I blurted. “Shit, shit, shit.”

I’d forgotten to take ‘axe-wielding,’ or whatever I needed for the hatchets. I didn’t have a spear anymore, and I’d already spent all my points. Fuck. What an idiot.

I spent a few minutes hating myself before I calmed down. At least I was now way tougher than I’d been, substantially stronger, and even a little faster. Plus I knew the enemy. And even if I didn’t have any ‘aptitude’ with axes, at least I had a couple of razor-sharp edges. That was a lot better than a random-ass tree branch.

I wasn’t about to start any fights right then, though. The night was darkening, and I needed more points in ‘Alertness’ or something before I’d be confident I wouldn’t get ambushed. Plus, it’d be a long and terrible day. I needed to rest, I needed to sleep.

And I needed to practice.

So I lay on my back, using Oksar’s pack as a lumpy pillow, and thought about turning to smoke. I’d only lasted ten or fifteen seconds the first time, but it had saved my life. Also, it was awesome.

I needed to learn more.

So I did it again.

Well, first I put the square of fabric from the pack over myself like a blanket. As an experiment. Then, with a twist of thought, I turned to smoke.

My body shifted to vapor, and so did all my clothes. Not the fabric, though. That stayed solid. Hm. Had it stayed intact because it was resting on me but wasn’t being worn? Whatever the reason, the fabric pressed down gently on my smokey self. My gaseous-form wasn’t strong enough to lift it, I had no solid physical body, yet I managed to hold the fabric in the air for a few seconds with currents of smoke.

Then the fabric settled to the stone ground through my smoke-body. The movement of the fabric wafted my vaporous self to the sides. Interesting. I spread myself as wide as possible. I rolled across the floor like an inch of fog covering ten feet of ground. Ha. It was easy. And felt almost natural.

The strangest thing about it was that all my senses worked from every corner of myself. I saw everywhere around myself at once, and not just from the bits that had been my eyes. I reveled in my odd, panoramic vision until I felt the itch that told me I needed to return to myself.

Ten seconds.

Eleven.

Twelve ...

Without gathering the smoke together into a human form, I snapped back into my body. And found myself in the center, roughly, of where the mass of smoke had been. So I didn’t need to gather myself first. Hm.

“So,” I asked the quiet gardent. “How would you use this, Oksar?”

A night bird called, and leaves rustled.

“Probably to assassinate a duke, huh?” I said.

Another silence extended.

Then I said, “Prenzin Isle. Isn’t that what you said? One day, I’ll meet your family. One day I’ll ... I’ll pay them back, too.”

I exhaled after a minute, and focused on answering my own question: how would someone who lived in this land of murder and magic use a power like this?

My smoke gem didn’t seem as powerful as a thousand blowtorch fireflies. It was a purely defensive power. Not that I was complaining. Though also, there was definitely more to learn. I still didn’t know why my gem was so basic. It didn’t name a specific power so much as just the generic ... smoke. I thought about that as I tried turning back into vapor. I tried four times in the next hour, with no luck. Well, without my phone, I didn’t know if it had been an hour. But it was a good long while until, eventually, I felt the ability seep back into me.

That time, I drew my hatchets before I activated my gem.

And yep, they turned to smoke with me.

I resolidified a few seconds later ... then turned to smoke again almost immediately.

“Ah-ha!” I said. “So I’ve got ten seconds of smokiness, but not necessarily all at once. I can spread that out ...”

I experimented for a while longer, and discovered that I could either turn to smoke once, for about ten or fourteen seconds, or I could turn to smoke twice, for about five seconds each time, or three times, for one or two seconds each time. So activating the power cost more than maintaining it?

I practiced until the moon was high, then slept until dawn. I woke feeling ... good. A little sad, but good. At least the hard stone beneath me was comfortable enough, the chill air felt fine. I didn’t even long for coffee.

So, first step: breakfast.

And then a spider hunt.

I took the skillet from the backpack and pressed it against my chest, with the handle at my throat. In that position, I whisked it into my domain. I figured if something was going for my neck or heart, I could block by yoinking the skillet from my domain. I tried to use the rest of the pack as groin protection, but my domain was already full. The skillet was pretty heavy.

After messing around for a while, I decided to hold a hatchet in each hand, instead of using one and keeping a hand free. I felt more protected that way, somehow. I also felt a renewed appreciation for the reason my jacket was so heavy: there were armored plates between the inner and outer layers of fabric.

Finally, I took a breath, stepped down the temple steps ... and a notification flashed.

QUEST: Clear the courtyard. Clear it. At least try. Throw me a bone, here.

REWARD: Points depending on performance. Consider learning a weapon skill for a weapon you actually have. That might come in handy.

FAILURE: Feed the next generation of spiderlings your juicy corpse. Yum.

“You are not right,” I said.

The notification didn’t answer.

I headed behind the temple to the orchard, eyes peeled for spiders. I didn’t see any. The fruit trees looked pretty and peaceful. Plus, the rahico was extra deliciousn after days of such a meat-heavy diet. For like two minutes, I forgot my troubles and stuffed my pack with fruit--then for another two, I stuffed my face with fruit.

Then I heard a rustling in the branches, and a jolt of fear brought me back to myself. I lunged for the hatchet I’d propped against a tree trunk and spun to face the ... bird hopping among the branches.

“Okay, Alex,” I said. “If you don’t want to die, pay attention.”

Getting my head back in the game, I followed the smoke fence around the periphery of the courtyard again. I eventually reached the Hole, which still looked like a nightmare graveyard.

I didn’t cut back toward the temple that time, though. Instead I forged onward, past the Hole, into the only quadrant of the courtyard that I hadn’t already explored. It didn’t look like much. A few mossy mounds, then more of those green-barked trees with the high burls. They weren’t spaced too closely together, and when I walked among them, the area reminded me a little of a bamboo forest. They were actually pretty peaceful, too. And the morning air felt nice on my face.

Also, my makeshift sandals fit me perfectly. They were completely comfortable, even more than they’d been the previous days. I marveled at that for a minute before I realized that my sandals hadn’t changed, my feet had changed. My skin was tougher now, with my increase in Fortitude, so pinching and chafing didn’t bother me at all.

Hell, it felt more like a massage.

“Ha,” I said, then, “Oh! Maybe that’s why I slept so well.”

Yeah, that made sense. I was tougher, so sleeping on the hard stone didn’t bother me. The cold night air didn’t bother me either, and--

A thornspider darted into sight.

A big one, climbing across the green-trunked trees.

I braced for an attack, but it didn’t seem to see me. At least not at first. It took three more steps--then froze, as if suddenly sensing me.

“Here we go,” I muttered.

The thornspider pivoted toward me, then raced closer through the tree trunks. Its body stayed level as its legs spread to grab onto three or four trees at once. The way it moved freaked me out a little. Plus the fact that it was, y’know a spider as a big as a Rottweiler. It angled downward, diving toward me like a bird of prey. Bright red splotches flashed at me, making such a good target that I almost threw one of the hatchets.

I resisted the urge, and a moment later the spider leaped at me.

Hurling myself sideways, I cleaved at one of the spider’s back legs while a foreclaw raked my opposite shoulder. The blow felt like a lashing whip. The claw slashed my skin through my coat--but not deeply, not with those armored plates blocking most of the surface.

My hatchet, on the other hand, carved a few inches off its rear limb.

The thornspider landing on the leaf-strewn ground and didn’t slow. It still had seven-and-a-half good legs, after all. It turned faster than should’ve been possible and jumped onto my back, biting deeply ... into my pack. Then through my pack into the jacket plates protecting my back.

The fangs didn’t penetrate but claws slashed my legs and thorns slipped between the jacket plates at my waist. It felt like I’d been stabbed a dozen times with a scalpel. One deep puncture in the wrong place would sever my spine.

A crash of fear added to my thunder of pain and I roared. I jabbed my right hand over my shoulder and punched the spider in the face with the spike atop one of my hatchets.

That blow struck hard, and true.

At the same time, I swung my left-hand hatchet at a spider leg that had latched onto my thigh from behind, and that blow struck hard, too.

Too hard. Right through the spider’s leg and into mine. My hatchet sliced me and I howled and threw myself backward, trying to crush the spider between my body and a tree trunk.

The creature dropped to the ground an instant before impact, so I just slammed my back against the tree, hard enough to set the branches shaking. Still, at least the tree kept me on my feet as the thornspider reeled from that spike to its face.

Fluid oozed from the hole I’d pierced though one of its eyes. And now it was down to six legs.

Of course, I was pretty much down to one. Well, the cut in my leg wasn’t deep, but it was painful. Guess I shouldn’t have tried to get clever with my left hand. At least not without the ax skill.

Still, I’d hurt the thornspider pretty badly. The creature swayed, wobbled ... then leaped at me again. That time I blocked high with my left hatchet and swept my right-handed one lower.

I snarled when the razor edge bit into the spider’s belly in mid-air. Fluid splashed and the thornspider landed on the leafy ground to my side.

Ha! Die, asshole!

I spun to finish the wounded creature but my body moved too slowly, my mind sluggish with injuries ... then the spider was climbing me again, stabbing my sides with claws and slashing me with thorns, climbing my chest to eat my face.

I yelped in terror. My jacket blocked most of the jabs, and I chopped my hatchet wildly, and managed to strike the spider’s thorax.

The blade bit deep then the flat of my other hatchet smashed the spider’s two injured legs and it flopped to the ground. It was still alive, still twitching, still watching me with those malevolent eyes ... until with a surge of strength and disgust I chopped its head in half.