In the wee hours of predawn, Amen bolted upright, gasping. As the dream faded and his heartrate slowed, Amen’s sight slowly took in the room under the faint light of Caelum, the moon. Pamu was still asleep next to him, as was Azibo in the other bed in the boys’ room.
Amen rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as the sheen of sweat on him finished evaporating. The recurring dream was a problem, but he certainly knew by now that he wouldn’t get back to sleep, not with [Internal Clock] suggesting dawn was only two hours away. Fully awake now, though still groggy under the adrenaline, Amen slipped out of bed and got dressed; an early walk was just what he needed.
Soon, Amen found himself wandering the deserted streets lit only by moonlight and chilly in the desert night. Though he wasn’t physically cold—[Cold Resistance V] prevented that—Amen still pulled his cloak tight as the aftereffects of his dream echoed through his skull.
Bloodless faces looked up at him as the slaughter continued. Blood sprayed and fountained, a macabre [Artist]. Horns cracked and wings snapped. A stable ablaze, a mage made haze. Fingers wrapped into a fist.
Amen ◐ forced open eyes he hadn’t even realized he had closed, finding he had reached the outer walls of the city. He glanced around quickly for any guards, then jumped up atop the wall, sitting in a comfortable spot in the crenellations facing east across the desert.
> [Jump II] (VR): A Racial Skill of evolved [Rabbitkin], you may now jump twice as high as you otherwise would.
He’d been mildly amused this life when he found that “the desert” was not a sweeping vista of sand dunes, as the stories of past lives had all told. Well, there were parts of the Right Desert comprised of ergs—great sand seas filled with dunes—but around Tarzu and its nearest neighbor Abmeris, the desert was a rocky plateau called a hamada. Still barren, with little plant or animal life, but little sand as well.
Of course, that meant that the Free Desert Cities had no farms outside their walls, unlike cities in more temperate climates. Rather, as so much of desert civilization revolved around water access, the farms were not only inside the city walls, but at the city center, clustered tightly around the oasis there. They weren’t even that large—perhaps a hundred acres combined—but between the bright sunlight, efficient waste processing, and the highest level [Farmers] Amen had ever seen—even some tier 2 [Oasis Gardeners] and [Desert Agriculturists]—they were able to eke out both a variety of food crops for the seven or eight thousand people who lived here and enough cash crops to add to the bustling trade the Free Desert Cities already did.
Though, maybe a city of less than ten thousand hardly counted as one.
Amen glanced back through the dark of night towards the farms where they sat in their place of privilege. It was too dark to see anything that far away, even with [Dark Vision III], but it reminded him of an important adage. There was just too much out there in the world to learn, even in several lifetimes.
Even these walls were astounding to him. They were enchanted: mundane objects crafted and imbued to create a magical effect. He ran a finger along the smooth copper wire embedded into the stone in twisting, convoluted shapes, feeling both the slick metal as well as the mana underneath. While Amen had never been an [Enchanter], as a [Mage] in multiple lives, he could appreciate the difficulties involved without System assistance. And these walls weren’t simply enchanted for strength and durability, but included a magical shield over the city to protect it from enemies, both natural (e.g., sand storms) and sapient (e.g., magical siege). How many centuries ago was that added to the System that the craft could reach such refined heights? And I didn’t notice at all?
Feeling somewhere between melancholy and wistful, Amen pulled up the Skill Shop. There were only three available Skills regarding enchantment. With those feelings at play and the SKP (i.e., Skill Points) to spare, Amen purchased all three.
> [Enchant Object] (UR): You may attempt to create an Object by imbuing an enchantment, based on either a magical Skill up to (rare) or a raw spell of similar complexity. The base cost in the attempt is a hundred times the MP cost to the enchanter of the magic to be imbued. The base cost may increase or decrease depending on the material used and the degree to which it has been prepared. Failure may render the target medium unenchantable.
>
> [Analyze Enchantment] (VR): Analyze an enchanted Object to determine its function. Higher Ranks will also assist in letting you know the degradation and durability of the Object, and potentially will allow you to learn the spell or Skill underlying the enchantment.
>
> [Basic Enchantment Knowledge] (VR): Basic knowledge regarding enchantment, both from a producer perspective and a user perspective.
As the knowledge from [Basic Enchantment Knowledge] flowed into him, he learned why no more enchantment Skills were available to him. Apparently, almost all the other enchantment related Skills were gated behind the [Enchanter] Classes. Importantly, this included any pertinent Skills related to improving the efficiency of the enchantment process. For instance, that 100x MP cost to enchant a Skill was quite the large expense. A typical mage with two decades of experience might, for example, have a large enough MP pool to enchant two Objects with a basic [Fireball] (with a base cost of 40 MP), but that same pool would take a whole day to regenerate.
Notably, while the [Enchant Object] Skill was clear that the cost of enchantment was dependent on the magic spell or Skill, the material of the enchanted Object, and whether the target medium had been prepared, [Basic Enchantment Knowledge] told him that at least three other factors also came into play. First, general magical knowledge—even not directly related to the spell or Skill—would provide a small efficiency bonus. Second, DEX curiously could provide a significant efficiency bonus as there were a number of unspecified hand gestures that would assist in layering the enchantment into the material. Finally, whether or not the enchantment would be user-powered or auto-powered would affect the cost of enchantment.
Amen was also bemused that [Enchant Object] was a step rarer than both [Analyze Enchantment] and [Basic Enchantment Knowledge]. That suggested to him that there were enough merchants and end-users dealing in enchanted Objects for a good portion of them to pick up the knowledge Skills. Strangely, the [Enchanter] Class was only a (rare) Class, while the [Enchant Object] Skill was (ultra rare), though that was explained by the fact that rarity was treated differently for Classes and Skills.
As Amen pondered this, the sky had begun to brighten in the east, lifting the dark dregs of night from Tarzu. Dropping all thoughts of enchantment, Amen spent a while simply watching the dawn arrive, before kicking off the wall, and heading back into the city.
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Amen made his way through the city streets, passing merchants and artisans beginning their slow wake in the early morning. He finally arrived at a larger building, with a bright sandstone edifice, capped with a pointed roof. Though almost no one was about, Amen walked through the entranceway and was enveloped by reverent quiet in the structure.
The Pantheon Temple.
Actually being well-traveled on the subject, Amen could have told you that each culture shaped and crafted their temples to the Pantheon differently. Here in Tarzu, the three major gods had the statues carved in their likeness in the center of the circular auditorium, where the skylights shone the brightest. In contrast, the eight minor gods were spaced equidistantly along the edge of the rear half of the room, in the slightly dimmer space there. While all eleven statues had offering plates before them, seating was only provided near the center of the room for the three major gods.
Amen moved familiarly to the rear of the auditorium, finally finding Adonite’s statute, this time in the guise of a male [Kitsune], a pair of [Snow Kitsune] figurines at his feet. He reached into a pocket, withdrawing a few small objects. The soft clink of a few small silvers hitting the offering plate, as Amen used a touch of magic to light the small blue candle and gently place it on the offering plate as well. With a small bow, Amen took several steps back and then knelt, reverently beholding the artist’s rendition of his blessed god.
The one he had met.
If there was a regret from that life, it was wasting the time of a goddess on such trivial matters. The rescue had worked out in the end, but there were bigger questions that had been left unanswered at the time, which a few years of fervent devotion this life still hadn’t resulted in any answers. Some had taken to call this the Silent Age of the Gods, and sometimes Amen had to agree with them.
“You look like you’re looking for someone to talk to,” a mischievous feminine voice broke his reverie.
Adonite? Amen thought for a moment, as his head turned round, and he breathed out a sigh. No, a [Rabbitkin] [Priestess].
“[Priestess],” he greeted politely, with a nod of his head, still kneeling. “How may I assist you today?”
“Hey,” she smirked, the wrinkles of her face crinkling even further, as she kneeled beside him to face Adonite. “That’s my line.”
“My apologies,” Amen smiled back. “But I’m afraid I don’t know one such as you among the city’s clergy.”
“No,” she sighed. “You wouldn’t. [Priestess] Hebi of Abmeris,” she introduced herself, offering a short nod of her head, as she crossed a hand over her heart.
“Amen of Tarzu,” he replied, offering a slightly deeper nod and clasping both hands, which the [Priestess] picked up on.
“No Class?”
“None I wish to be known by,” he replied, turning his gaze away from the [Priestess’] inquisitive eyes and back to Adonite.
“Yes, Dominic did mention you were a private young man,” the woman trailed off. “‘Dear Amen, a fine lad with the weight of the world on his shoulders,’ or something like that,” she said, imitating the old [Satyr] [Cleric’s] voice.
“That sounds like him.”
“It does, doesn’t it? Terrible people Skills if he thinks that’s your problem.”
“How do you know that isn’t my problem?”
“Because you have perspective. You’d know what a world-level problem is, and yours is much smaller, though clearly deeply affecting you.” She paused, letting her words sink in, observing the tightening of his fists, the darting of his eyes. She pulled him into a small side-hug, whispering. “Do you want to talk about it?”
The physical contact was too much, as a wave crashed over his roiling emotions, the mask of his face cracking. “I’ve—I’ve killed people,” he croaked out quietly.
“It’s a harsh world,” she whispered back. “Sometimes people need killing.”
“Many people.”
“Sometimes harsher to some.”
“Many innocent people.” [Celestials] and [Demonkin]—Races a continent away—came to mind, but not the his lips.
She paused for just a moment, no response at the ready. “And, did you enjoy killing those innocents?” she asked, letting a little bloodlust creep into her voice. “Did you revel in the blood and guts? Feast on their corpses?”
“No!” he cried, in shock at the suggestion. “No and no!”
“Good!” she squeaked, bloodlust gone, and smacked him on the butt. “Then you’re perfectly fine.”
“…Wut?” Amen squawked, as he pulled away from the crazy [Priestess].
“You’re a [Mage], right?”
“Yes?” Amen responded uncertainly.
“And so you have great power. With that comes great responsibility. I’ll give you my favorite example. Do you know of the current [Shadow Shah] of Abmeris?” Amen shook his head negatively. “He’s the leader of the city, much as the [Light Shah] is the leader of Tarzu. But as a leader-mage hybrid Class, he can create an umbrella of magic to block out the sun. Do you know what he does?” Amen again shook his head in the negative. “Historically, most [Shadow Shahs] limited the use of this power. They would only use it on their own guards, or just their family, or worse of all, just themselves. But do you know what the current [Shadow Shah] does?” she asked rhetorically. “Every day at high noon, he envelops the entire city in shade. Not for long, a quarter hour perhaps, but everyday, when they need it the most, he benefits the thousands of people he rules, only to then stagger away exhausted.”
Amen rolled that thought around in his mind, tasting it. “But most of my power is, uhh, martially oriented.”
“And so it is with many in this world. That the power they gain—and that you’ve gained—is the power for killing people. But that’s life. On the one hand, you’ve used it well in the past, killing those that deserve it. And on the other hand, you’ve made a few mistakes, killing those that did not. But, you’ve come to regret those uses and have resolved yourself in the future not to kill those who don’t deserve it.”
“But…” he trailed off. “But how do I know who deserves it or not?”
“That’s something that you’ll have to learn on your own. The power to take life is the power to decide which lives to take. You’ve admitted to yourself that you’ve done good in the past. Now, you just need to figure out why it was right.”
Amen’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Thank you [Priestess], you’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“Glad I could help,” she said as she got up, knees creaking. “I’ll be heading home soon, but it was,” she paused dramatically, “a pleasure.”
As the old [Rabbitkin] wandered further back into the temple, the younger one got up and made his way back to the small plaza outside. As the sunlight of dawn fell upon and warmed his face, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Maybe, he thought, all is right with the world.