What do you mean?

Lindle relayed what Nothing said for his mom’s benefit, resigning himself to the role of translator for the length of the conversation, repeating what each of them was saying aloud at the same time, before responding.

“When we were in the workshop, you didn’t finish telling me what Artificer did, you just said it was an Ethos crafting class, but I don’t know what Ethos even is.”

Nothing seemed to hesitate, though Lindle didn’t sense any hesitation to the idea of answering the question, it was more like it was struggling to find a good way to answer.

Not easy to answer. It is called the essence behind reality, Was told it was the identity of things made into energy, but don’t know a lot.

“Aren’t you made out of it? How do you not know a lot?” Lindle questioned.

Just because am made of it doesn’t mean I understand it. Do you completely understand how your body works? Or can you completely define Mana or Aura?

“That’s fair,” his mom mused. “It’s too much to assume that you would be able to define a form of magic. What can you tell us about it? What can it do?”

Usually Ethos doesn’t do much. Aura and Mana make changes in the world, Ethos is made from the ideas of something, and Ethos then supports the object in being that idea. Doesn’t take much for a rock to be a rock though, so the Ethos usually isn’t needed.

“I’ve noticed that the Ethos in some things act differently from each other. The Ethos in my potions and in people is a lot more active than in other things.”

That is because people and your potions are magic. They need magic to still be themselves, so the Ethos in them is more active and powerful.

Lindle furrowed his brow. “Magic? My potions are alchemy, not an enchantment or spell.”

Nothing shook their head in the negative.

Not magic as in Mana, magic, any magic. Techniques, alchemy, enchanted or enhanced objects, monsters, spells, skills, traits, anything magical.

Lindle and his mom exchanged glances, confused. Some of those things were just normal, not magic. Nothing sighed, emanating slight amounts of frustration, before they seemed to remember something.

The system.

“What about the system?”

Imagine everything in the system. A rock does not need the system to be a rock, but if it needs the system to be itself, it is magical. You use the system to get skills or traits, and that makes you magic, and you use a skill to make potions, or you magic plants or animals as ingredients. They are magic. If they have magic, they are what Artificer’s call fabled. Fabled things are what Artificers can craft with.

Lindle blinked. “Wait, I can only craft using things with active Ethos? What would that even let me make?”

Anything. You can craft Anything with active Ethos.

Lindle paused for several seconds before his mom prodded him to repeat the last thing Nothing said.

“Anything? How does that even work? Is the system going to give me a crafting skill that works with anything magical? Or I guess fabled?” Lindle asked. A crafting skill was the first skill any crafting-type class gave. The skill would make a person better at their craft, pushing the limit of their ability higher than was possible without.

In a way. Specifically, Artificer will give you a skill that lets you take the Ethos in a fabled object and harvest it, then you will be able to craft using that Ethos and make a new fabled object.

Lindle’s eyes went wide. “Harvest? As in make Ethos physical? Is that how you’re made out of Ethos?”

Yes. But am not finished, need you to finish me so I become real. A fabled creature.

"A homunculus?” His mom asked.

Yes. That was what my first maker was making me into. He never finished.

"Your maker? What happened to him?”

I don’t know. One day he did not return to the workshop. I waited, but I started to fall apart, so I went to sleep and waited. I dreamed for a while, but eventually, I stopped dreaming too.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“What was his name? Was he an elf?” He was sure Dorothea would like to get an account of an elf, even if secondhand.

The others called him Eddy. My maker was not an elf. But some of the other people who helped him were. They talked to me sometimes. Anton was one of them.

Lindle could sense Nothing start to drift towards melancholy, so he changed the subject. “So what else could an Artificer do? Could they make artifacts?”

Oh? They mentioned the word Artifact sometimes, but I don’t know exactly what they meant by it. Perhaps it was a type of fabled item?

Nothing seemed to shrug.

I was told I was to be a helper of a kind when crafting, so my maker liked telling me things when he molded me, but I am not an Artificer myself. I know not what the limits of the class are.

Lindle frowned. To him, it sounded like Nothing had information about crafting with Ethos, but regarding his class directly they knew little, which might be a problem. When it came to someone's first class, they spent most of their time following the advice of the people who had the class before them. Skill choices, what Feats to aim for and how to get them, instruction on useful Spells and Techniques. Even if no one who had the exact same class was available, there was at least someone who had advice on something similar. If Lindle was working blind, that could be trouble when figuring out how to bring the best out of his class. Primary classes were the foundation for all other classes and advancement a person took for the rest of their life. A bad start could be crippling.

The three of them continued talking into the night, but eventually Lindle’s exhaustion caught up to him. His mom had ushered him off to bed, giving him another hug. Lindle placed Nothing on his nightstand where they returned to their sleeping form, and Lindle drifted away as well.

In the morning, they all helped Lindle put a plan together leading up to Lindle’s birthday. Lots of families did this once someone had decided on a class they were happy with choosing. Though he couldn’t keep casting [Produce Ember] for Nothing forever, so they lit the fireplace and placed them inside. Maybe Lindle could buy some sort of lantern to hold Nothing in if he wanted to take them around the village.

According to Nothing, since Lindle wouldn’t be able to harvest or manipulate Ethos until he had his class, he would be best served focusing on his Ethos sense and practicing molding his own Ethos like he did to use the door. His mom had raised concerns, but Nothing told her Lindle wouldn’t be able to make any permanent changes to his own Ethos. It was something Artificers did in order to better interact with outside Ethos, so learning it now would make it much easier due to him not needing to split his attention on more skills to practice with.

Outside of that, Lindle also now opened up the bag of coins he had gotten as payment from the adventurers. Emptying it all out onto the table, Lindle counted out 15 gold coins and 50 silver ones. It was the most money Lindle had ever had to himself in his life. Sure his mom had a profitable craft and had given him pocket change for assisting, but this was money he had earned wholly by himself and it was a lot of money. Most people might make half a gold piece from a week of labor, which was worth around 5 silver coins. Even in Glacerhine where making a lot of money wasn’t a big focus since people tended to not spend tons of money between themselves and instead most of it was for trading with outsiders.

Adventurers in comparison worked with astonishingly high amounts of money, earning and spending gold like copper, at least the successful ones did. The majority of the more powerful potions his mom sold went to the adventurer market, so Lindle had probably seen more gold exchange hands firsthand than most people in Glacerhine under level 20. Even after selling his services at half the usual rate, Lindle now had a much larger budget to put towards his personal preparations.

Sure his mom had money, but he had to rely on himself to get his own funding. The system tended to be finicky when it came to rewards if you relied on unearned support.

The first thing he would have to buy was equipment to learn pottery. At first he had wanted to gather up magical regents and monster parts, and when Nothing had told him that he would have to learn sculpting, he had been confused. They reminded Lindle that the station Lindle had found them in was a pottery studio and Nothing’s Ethos body resembled clay. Apparently pottery and artificing had a lot of overlap, as the physical process of both arts had a lot in common. Pottery wasn’t very common in Glacerhine but Lindle bet he could buy some supplies from a merchant or sculptor.

As Lindle put together his shopping list, his mom asked him a question that had him pause.

“So, did you put any thought into what you want to do once you’ve gotten your fancy magic class?” His mom had said it casually, but he knew her. She had been just as concerned about Lindle’s prospects and future as he had been. She had never dissuaded him from wanting to be different from his father, but she didn’t feel the same about the man as Lindle. Lindle almost never asked about him, so she didn’t talk about him much, but when she did, Lindle knew she still loved him, as if he had never abandoned them.

No matter the reason, she knew Lindle would never accept a class that he qualified for because of him, and had been just as invested in helping him as he was, perhaps even more so, because apparently she knew she would have to remind him that his life would continue after he got his class.

What did he want to do with himself? He had told himself he would consider what came next after he had finally stepped foot on the path he wanted when he was out in the Reach with the adventurers. Well, he had gotten there. Sooner than expected, and in a different way as well, but he was there.

He had been happy to follow in his mother’s footsteps, but he had stumbled into what felt like an opportunity to pursue something greater than he could ever imagined. After delving into ancient ruins, and discovering strange never before-heard of magics, would he really be content to be a simple merchant or crafter, selling his wares?

Traveling with the adventurers had been… exciting. It wasn’t the violence or danger, but the wonder he had felt, the excitement from discovering something amazing. To be honest, he had felt special after finding Nothing and getting the opportunity he did. He had the chance to do something great with Artificer and Ethos, but in order to do that…

Lindle looked at his mom, waiting patiently for him to answer.

“I… want to push my path, I want to become a wayfarer.”