“I’m not allowed to contact you like this.” First words right out of the voice’s invisible mouth.
“You didn’t make anything clear,” I say.
“What do you mean?”
“What is a fate sequence, and how do I not show up on it?” That was the thing he said he’d kill me for, right?
“A fate sequence, mortal, is the story of the world.”
“I have no clue what the fuck that means.”
“The desires, beliefs, and overall emotions of mortals mean nothing on their own. But when combined together with the sheer number of mortals, the overall impact is enough to visibly engrave a world’s story.”
“Okay, I kinda understood that one. How do I not show up on it?”
“Do not exist in the lives of the masses.”
“...”
“Be invisible to all. Be unnoteworthy. Have no fame, no glory.”
“Okay, so you want me to make the plotline into a reality, but I can’t show up on anyone’s radar?”
“Indeed.”
“Okay, so what if I went around, gallivanting around the world, saving lives, stealing from the rich, blah, blah, blah, just becoming a folk legend in general? But I wore a cloak and mask and shit and disguised myself and went by ‘Count Dickbutt’?”
“‘Count Dickbutt’ would be engraved into the fate sequence.”
“Even though I disguised myself?”
“The only thing that matters is what a large amount of mortals think. So if they believe you are named ‘Count Dickbutt’, you will be engraved into the fate sequence as ‘Count Dickbutt’.”
“What is a large amount of mortals?”
“Approximately a thousand. Stay well below that, for good measure.”
“So five hundred at max?”
“Let it be so.”
“Okay. Now, how vague is your plotline?”
“Pardon me?”
“When you make your ‘prediction’, what’s it going to entail? I probably have to apply serious pressure to create the Academy. Will you say ‘The Academy was formed in 843 AD’ or ‘The Academy was formed in 843 AD at the urging of the Supreme Chancellor, because he had a very lonely daughter?’”
“I would say ‘The Academy was formed between 841 AD and 846 AD.’ Approximately five years is a decent enough margin of error.’”
“Alright, good, that’s good. Okay. What help can you give me?”
“Sillium Wagner, I chose you in particular because you were the most knowledgeable of this game. Are you saying that is not enough?”
“Not in the slightest. To become able to exert pressure on the Supreme Chancellor to push for the Academy, I’ll need a strong political faction to back this utterly moronic idea. Which means I’ll need to have serious blackmail or owed favors. Now, I’m not saying it’s impossible. It’s doable, for sure, with my knowledge. But I’ll have spend all three years pushing for the Academy, and there’s a whole bunch of stuff that happens afterwards that I’ll have no time to prepare for, which means I can’t stick to the plotline. So I need help.”
“I understand. I can give you one boon. However, it must appear natural, so it must have appeared before in the world. I cannot give you unlimited stamina, for instance.”
“Why not?”
“The divine power that empowers the boon would be extremely visible to the Professor, and the other gods here, as well as… other reasons.”
“Didn’t you make this world? Can’t you like, turn their divine sense off?”
Terzin makes an odd sound that I think is a laugh.
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“Absolutely not.”
“You can’t, like, reset their mind, or some shit like you did to me?”
“I did not reset your mind.”
“Then why do I know how to speak Avroli?”
“Your soul was melded with Noel Everpine. Your subconscious’ were fused together. Your instincts fused to his instincts.”
“Wouldn’t that be noticeable? To like the Professor, or whoever.”
“I have enclosed your soul in his with a large chunk of divine power so that it’s not immediately visible. Too much more, and the divine power will burst out of your soul, most likely killing you both instantly.”
“...Ah.” Y’know, maybe I shouldn’t ask for too much.
“Alright, alright.” What do I take here? I wasn’t being completely honest before. It would be hard, but I’ve already thought of a way to make it past at least the first three main arcs. But, it would be a hell of a lot easier if I could do one thing.
“I would like to be able to make friends at will.”
“Excuse me?”
“If I look at someone and think, ‘I want to be friends with them’, they should immediately be friendly towards me, even if they were my enemy.”
“You’d have to impose a time limit and a chance of failure in order for me to grant you this boon.”
“What would failure look like?”
“The target would know you attempted to use some sort of supernatural charm on them, and will immediately become hostile, and you will be unable to use this charm on them until they stop being hostile.”
“What’s the chance of failure?”
“The stronger the mind, the higher the chance. On average, the best I can do is a twenty percent chance of failure and about a five minute time limit.”
The chance of failure is too high, the failure too damaging, and the time limit too short. Alright. Next best option, then.
“I would like the Chosen ability to be able to disguise myself at will.”
“An empowered version of that boon, then?”
“Yes. I would be able to disguise myself as anyone, and my Mark signature and soul should be disguisable as well.” I could hide better from this Professor person (god? god-person?)
“I can’t disguise a soul, well, without the divine power going over the limit, but the rest I can do.”
“Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s great. Can I get that?” This would be super useful. If I can disguise myself as anyone, I can effectively get anywhere. Wonderful.
“Oh, right! Can you change the plotline? I have some revisions that would be easier-”
“I have already submitted the plotline to the Professor.”
“...” Fuck.
“Is the the extent of your queries, Sillium Wagner?”
“Actually,” aw man, I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to ask this, but y’know what? Fuck it. “Why?”
“Why? Why what?”
“Why do this at all? Why not create humans that will follow the plotline exactly?”
“I cannot create minds, mortal.”
“Then how did you create this world?”
“I copied the default structure of a baby’s mind and body from the Professor’s world to this world.”
“Why not recreate history from my world?”
“The Professor would know. What I know, he knows.”
“Then wouldn’t he know Avrol?”
“The Professor doesn’t care about your stories. I didn’t know of Avrol until I randomly selected it. This is the end of your queries?”
“One last thing. How do I contact you?”
“Don’t.”
And with that, the darkness around me shattered.
----------------------------------------
I wake to a throbbing sensation in my nose. I move one hand experimentally, and then the other. Why am I faceplanted on my floor? I push myself up, wincing. That handstand really took a lot out of what meager strength I had managed to accumulate. I drag myself over to my bed and flop on it.
Okay. I can do this. Just like when I felt my Mark with the Duke, I feel complete once more. This time, however, I can feel an instinct that isn’t my own guiding me. I push, and my body elongates. Where my feet previously touched the end of the bed, now they extend up to six inches off it. I shorten myself back to regular size, and then expand my arm muscles about two inches. It’s looking much better than before. I punch the wall.
Fuck, that hurts. Why am I so delicate?
I take away the muscle and brace myself before punching the wall again with my other fist.
Fuck. Well, there’s no real difference, in the wall or in the amount of pain my hands are in. So, this muscle is just an illusion. Great.
One last thing.
I look at the door and strain my ears. I can’t hear anyone coming, though I don’t think I could anyway given how far away I am from the door. Welp. I take off my shirt. Noel is easily one of the palest boys I have ever met. This guy could pass for a vampire. Has he ever gone outside? Well, whatever, I suppose. I look down and check my stomach. I remember the Mark’s feeling being about there, so…
No Mark. Okay, maybe it was a little bit up then. My chest is clean though. Okay. I slowly ease myself off the bed, and very carefully walk to the mirror.
Why is it so far…
Like, it’s near another end of the room…
Motherfucker….
Finally, I stood in front of the mirror. I turn around and look over my shoulder. No Mark on my back, either. Well then. I take off my pants. No Mark on the front side of my legs. Which means…
Aha! A mark a little below my butt, on the back side of my right thigh. So, it went … what? A Mark on the torso implies increased stamina. A Mark on the arms implies better control. A Mark on the head implies a faster growth rate. A Mark on the legs means … more power, I think. None of Avrol’s main characters had a Mark on the legs. Oh! Wait, no, one of the minor villains’ sidekicks had one. It wasn’t that great. So my usage of the Mark will give a little extra oomph. That’s fine.
Now, I think I actually need to test my Mark. Not now, I’m tired as fuck, but tomorrow, I guess. I stumble my way to my bed and pass out.