Chapter 4 – Hungry Eyes_[Enchantress] Eternal

A simple enchantment is fashioned by fusion of Primal and Aether.

Purity of intent gives rise to meaning. Structure of mana gives rise to purpose.

However, only in the depths of your story can enchantment worthy of renown be born.

– Elara Twice, Ravings of a Madwoman

Chapter 4 – Hungry Eyes

Sunlight lanced through the canopy of Hammaltin's Inn prodding Toki from her slumber. Her eyelids reluctantly parted, revealing that daybreak had arrived. A viscous pool of drool had collected beneath her cheek, an unflattering mirror to her throbbing headache. The clatter and clang of metal against wood punctuated the air as Zeppo Hammaltin, the inn barkeep, set about his morning routine with all the subtlety of a ‘smith at the anvil.

Zeppo was a fortress of a man, with arms like iron bands and a beard that could harbor nesting birds. His gruff demeanor was as much a part of him as the grime under his nails, cultivated across years of dealing with the rabble who sought refuge in his establishment. Rabble like Toki.

"Gods' teeth, girl," Zeppo's voice rumbled, his tone a blend of annoyance and reluctant concern. "Ya look like death."

Toki managed a groan, her head still anchored to the table by some unseen force of gravity exclusive to hangovers. "Here," Zeppo grunted, sliding a steaming cup across the worn oak before her. The scent of strong Horovian coffee wafted into her senses. An import from gods know where, Horovia? This is what I should have gotten into, coffee is easy, coffee makes people happy. I’m not gonna get eaten by a dragon making coffee. Fuck ‘smithing.

"Thanks," Toki muttered. Her fingers curled around the cup, absorbing its heat.

"Drink up," Zeppo said, folding his arms with a softening scowl. "First time?"

Toki offered no reply. As she raised her head and took a sip, relief cascaded down her throat. In doing so, she gazed at the object in her grasp—the Hangover Hammer, its handle worn from the grip of many a morning-after sufferer.

I didn’t mean it. I love ‘smithing. She squinted at the hammer, her fingers tightening involuntarily around the wooden handle, tracing the grooves etched by countless hands. Frown lines etched her forehead as she probed the recesses of her mind, seeking the thread of inspiration she had seemingly grasped the previous night. She pulled mana into the enchantment, but it was inert.

"Remember anything useful?" Zeppo's voice cut through the haze of her thoughts, gruff and tinged with a hint of mockery.

"Bits and pieces," Toki replied groggily. "Shadows, really."

"Ya were a menace, ya know—wouldn’t leave even at closing. Said a lotta elfshit, then said ya were onta something," Zeppo countered, his bushy eyebrows knitting together as he surveyed her with a mix of skepticism and something akin to respect. “Those shadows might be all ya need, though. Carve it into some allie when yar done.”

Toki briefly glanced at all the alabaster statues that were “inspired” at Hammaltin’s and took another sip. As she got up, the Hangover Hammer felt heavy in her hand. Toki extended a shaking hand, offering it back to Zeppo. The gnarled fingers of the barkeep snatched it from her grasp, placing the hammer on the counter where it would wait, silent and unassuming, for the next poor soul in need of its dubious gift.

Toki nodded, “thanks,” the motion setting off a series of miniature earthquakes inside her skull. Her balance was precarious as she grabbed her satchel, downed her coffee, and navigated through the maze of chairs and tables strewn haphazardly in preparation for opening. When’s the last time I drank this much? Edgar would know.

The air of the inn gave way to the chill of morning outside, and Toki squinted against the brightness. She took one step after another toward the distant silhouette of the Twice estate. It rose against the horizon like a monolith, but it was simply the placement that gave it the imposing look. It rested on a small alabaster mine and rose with the elevation. She was dreading going home. She was already treated as an outcast and Elara’s disappearance would not help. Shards be damned, I should have looked at the manascript on the hammer.

With each step, fragments of the previous night clawed at the edge of her consciousness— Toki remembered the beginning of the night quite vividly, but the end got inevitably blurry. What didn’t escape her memory, unfortunately, were the hungry eyes of Dutch Eternal.

She pulled up her status screen to escape the thought.

----------------------------------------

Condensed Status

Name

Tokyo Twice

Class

Mortal Human (Level 42/50)

Bloodline

Twice

Base attributes

Strength

(+3)

Vitality

(+3)

Vigor

(+3)

Dexterity

(+3)

Intelligence

(+3)

Wisdom

(+3)

Luck

253

(+214)

Title Additions

Mortal Combat +2% -> +10% All Attributes

Challenger of Luck

+7% Luck

Full Status: Attributes, Titles, Skills

Name

Tokyo Twice

Class

Mortal Human (Level 42/50)

Bloodline

Twice

Attributes

STR

VIT

VIG

DEX

INT

WIS

LUK

Base attributes

(+3)

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

(+3)

253

(+214)

Flat impact

Percent impact

110%

117%

Total attributes

107

308

(258)

Titles

Name

STR

VIT

VIG

DEX

INT

WIS

LUK

Flat impact

Bigshot

Mortality

Noncombat

Wastrel

Talented labor

Total

Percent impact

Mortal combat

10%

Challenger of luck

Total

10%

17%

Support Skills

Telekinesis (50 LUK), Charge Sphere, Create Contract

Dao Bound

Skills

----------------------------------------

Toki carefully inspected the updated details.

The only new items in her title list were the upgrade of [Mortal Combat] and [Challenger of Luck]. She had killed a stage-one beast before in her youth, granting her the base version of [Mortal Combat] with 2% to all attributes—Elara had purchased live direhog for that very reason. Dutch Eternal’s death had granted Toki a whopping 10% - a mortal shouldn’t be able to kill a stage-two. No wonder the upgrade is so big.

The challenger title, on the other hand, was unexpected. Grandmother always said that the challenger series titles were awarded for dedication to a single attribute. Toki as a result had chosen strength and was well on her way to the accomplishment due to her body tempering regimen and diet. [Challenger of Luck] was a confusing addition to say the least.

Her now massive pool of Luck now meant that she could purchase additional skills—an unprecedented opportunity in Alabaster Ring. She would have to carefully consider which ones to choose. Maybe even consult Golgheim. That bastard. But he was always so cagey. She had already purchased the manasmith essential [Telekinesis] support skill from the system store with 50 Luck. It was precisely the reason that Golgheim and Elara had procured 7 stage-one beasts and 64 mortal beasts to level both her and Oberon up to level 39.

Toki’s other titles had come from rejecting the system tutorial. Everyone in integrated space knows to reject the system tutorial - free attributes are free attributes. Getting told what everyone already knows is a waste. Stupid scamming SGP.

In her brief contemplation, she had already arrived at the Twice estate. The gates stood open, an unspoken invitation—or challenge—to those who dared to enter. Toki's footsteps echoed hollowly as she crossed the threshold.

As she traversed the cobblestone entry, the door to the manor swung open. Alaric Twice, the embodiment of the clan's austere legacy, stood framed in the doorway. His posture was as rigid as an alabaster statue and as pale as one too. The widening of his eyes betrayed a flicker of surprise at the sight of Toki's bedraggled state.

"By the forges, girl, where were you? What infernal winds have conspired to deliver you onto our doorstep in such a condition?" Alaric's voice boomed across the courtyard, its timbre resonating with an undercurrent of suspicion.

"The winds of change, uncle," she replied, her voice a hoarse whisper clawing for conviction.

"Change, is it? You think because your grandmother chose to be a walker, that you can do as you please?" He folded his arms and frowned.

Her gaze flickered away, evading the intensity of his scrutiny. A tremor of silence followed, heavy with unspoken truths. She evaded and walked towards the daily breakfast spread to grab some manafruit.

I swear he looks more undead by the day.

"Hmph, I don’t know why I bother… tidy up, niece," Alaric finally conceded, though his eyes remained trained on her. "Now that you are here, we will be sealing our gates for a conclave. Your presence is requested."

With a nod, Toki agreed. How will I interrogate Golgheim now? A conclave for what?

As if reading her thoughts, Alaric continued, “for the new clan leader, Tokyo. Elara is gone. Wouldn’t have hurt the woman to give us some prior notice. Did she tell you anything?”

“No. Nothing.” Toki brushed the query aside and continued walking. Even if she had, I wouldn’t tell you. She found his glare eerie. All she could think about now, though, was her bed. She wanted to sleep the last day out of her memory.

Alaric's shadow loomed, watching, as Toki navigated the open-air corridors of the Twice estate. She could feel his eyes. She turned a corner, the eastern wing beckoning. Toki slipped through to the garden courtyard that led to her personal sanctuary where her room awaited, sitting by the edge of a water-filled quarry. Its familiarity was comforting. With the door locked behind her, the vestiges of Alaric's stare dissipated.

Toki exhaled and shrugged off her satchel. Her room was small – most of her extended family had received larger rooms to accommodate their entire families, but she had chosen this one for the forge in the attached room and the pond behind her. Without the forge, it was a simple studio.

Her shoes—sturdy leather, scarred by adventure and misadventure alike—slipped from her feet with a thud. A glint caught her eye while removing her socks, an anomaly amidst the wear and tear—a pattern etched into the sole of her left shoe. Manascript. It was her own, intricate and flowing. Familiar.

Any semblance of exhaustion fled. "Curious," she murmured. Toki considered where it came from, but her only explanation was the Hangover Hammer. Tracing the etched lines with a fingertip, she tried to understand her intent.

What enigma does this enchantment hold? What sorcery did I conjure to make these curves and strokes? Did I really walk around in Hammaltin’s in my bare feet? You can’t get syphilis from your feet, can you?

She walked into the forge room, barefoot, with both shoes in her hand as she tried to understand the manascript. Her eyes were bright with excitement as they swept over the familiar chaos of her workspace. Tools lay scattered like fallen soldiers on every surface, half-finished projects loomed in the shadows, each a testament to Toki's relentless pursuit of mastery. But now, they were mere background noise to the symphony playing in her mind—the compulsion to decipher the symbols etched into the leather sole of her shoe.

"Paper," she muttered, fingers skimming over the clutter. Vellum sheets would be ideal, yet none revealed themselves amidst the haphazard stacks of sketches and schematics. How can I have no clean vellum!

Vellum would let her test the manascript before applying it to an item. Frustration nipped at her resolve. Just as she was about to enchant the shoe outright, her memory flickered—there was vellum. A letter, unopened, neglected in the whirlwind of recent events.

Her hand reached into her satchel and emerged triumphant with the envelope. Its seal, unbroken, bore the insignia of the Twice clan. Toki caressed the letter, not quite ready to read her grandmother's last words. She turned the letter in her hands. The front remained unopened, its secrets locked away, but the back offered a blank vellum canvas.

With meticulous care, Toki prepared to replicate the arcane script with inked aeso. Toki remembered back to her debates with Obie, “talismans are just single-use enchantments. Get good,” he would say. He never needed a practice run - he was arrogant. But it was also true that he didn’t fail often. I know that talismans hold their own value. Susie agreed… used to agree with me.

Toki couldn’t help but feel jealousy as her hand inked the talisman. This would be her test run. She focused on her work, avoiding the feelings that bubbled to the surface. The dance of ink across paper was silent. The manascript on the shoe was her own, written hours earlier, so she just needed to understand the story and the context, not adjust the script.

She straightened, her gaze lingering on the glyphs she had penned into the vellum. Like Oberon, she too had a bloodline ability, but Toki felt that her fire, unlike his, was all but useless.

Toki channeled her unique flame ability and ignited her hand. Cartoonish stars flickered inside the playful fire and flew off as embers. To Toki’s and the entire Twice clan’s dismay, they were inert to everything. No heat, no effect, nothing. This was her mortal Dao-Bound ability in principle, but without a way to use the flames, the system would not recognize it as such. Toki frowned and considered, perhaps their only value was to be the channel between the Primal and the Aether.

The flames cast an otherworldly glow upon the walls of the forge. The stars danced merrily, as if alive. She directed the incandescent tendrils toward the first few symbols, infusing them with the aeso ink. They thickened, glowing a brilliant blue with the influx of both intent and mana.

She could feel the purpose within the manascript – the brief connection to the symbols gave her flickers of meaning. Toki continued drawing her flame across the symbols. She saw a beam of light in a vast expanse of darkness. She saw a poetic ballet of motes playing within the light. What were they?

She felt conflicting emotions within the manascript. She knew this enchantment was a fledgling idea. She would have to define it further. She could feel the fear in the symbols. She could also feel wonder. She chose to focus on the fear. Toki wanted to believe in the positive, but she didn’t see much today. Hungry eyes flickered in her mind and all she could think about was running away.

In the motes, she saw freedom, but constraint. It was a balance. Strong enchantments usually have conflict, it's a good sign. The motes hovered, casting their shadow, but remained elusive in the beam of light. She knew she could barely touch them. She knew they existed, yet they felt fleeting. Toki marveled as she saw glimmers within the beam. However, her fear exerted intent on the motes and they hardened. They were free no more, caged by meaning, hovering in their own shadows. With it, the enchantment coalesced in her mind.

[Tokyo Twice has created a unique enchantment]

[Bindings of Tyndall (Armor / Class D / Mortal): Create a 1x1 cm mote in the light within 1.5m; contrast in illumination increases the durability of the mote]

Class D. It was good, not great. A named enchantment, though, was always welcome – Toki planned to tweak it and upgrade it later. She now knew why she had put it on her boots. It could easily create a footfall effect, though she wondered how the enchantment would have turned out if she had focused on the feeling of wonder instead of fear. She would have to explore how else she could use it when her mind was less occupied.

Toki retrieved her boots. With the same precision as her practice run, she inscribed the manascript onto the leather sole with a small blade. Then she filled the engravings with aeso.

Toki cast [Charge Sphere] enveloping the pair of boots. The spell was a Twice clan secret, a way to concentrate intent and mana while enchanting. She pulled out her hammer and it ignited with cartoon fire. She focused on repeating the process and channeled the same meaning and purpose as her test run.

Her hammer swung down.

The manascript absorbed the energy, and the symbols glowed to life in Toki's flames. It was as though the symbols themselves were hungry, devouring the aeso and fire with delight. Aeso scattered with a poof. She could feel the enchantment swell within the boots. But as the enchantment grew, so too did her recognition of its limitations. Toki lamented—her flames alone could not force the potential out of the aeso, like Oberon’s could. With an exhale, she crossed the short distance to her Chamberscript Oven XIV and sealed the boots within. Toki stepped back and set a timer for 10 minutes.

With the adrenaline rush fading, she grabbed Elara’s letter and sat down.

Chapter 4 – Hungry Eyes

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