“All the nobles clapped politely again, then everyone, just sort of... went home. Not quite what I expected.” I recounted. Rollo made a grunt, acknowledging he heard the end of my story. Saewulf, however, gave no such courtesy and simply stared deeply at the massive bosom of the bar wench in his lap as though it might bestow a divine truth.

“That’s not what I heard,” said the bar wench, Agatha.

“What’d you hear, baby?” asked Saewulf, surprising everyone at the table. I don’t think Agatha thought he had been listening. Especially Agatha.

“Everyone has been talking about it!” Agatha leaned in with a mischievous smile, making her cleavage do things that made it hard to focus for everyone, including the taciturn Rollo. “It’s said that an unknown street scamp,” Agatha winked at me, “ruined the celebration of Lady Elaine Highrow’s ascendancy ceremony.”

Saewulf snapped out of his stupor. “Oh, yeah?” he said, looking in my direction.

I felt heat burn my ears and tried to look into my ale cup. I really wanted to forget what happened earlier in the day. It had been by far the worst day of my entire life. First Sabine, then losing control in front of the most powerful people in the kingdom. If I hadn’t been a hideous one and a half eared hobo on hard times, they probably would have killed me on the spot.

“Yeah! Apparently, the scamp walked right up to the Godstone, screamed that she was a heartless bitch!” Agatha said.

Everyone stared at me for a quiet moment, but I was too shocked to respond. Saewulf and Rollo burst out laughing, drawing looks from everyone in the inn. Agatha had to wrap a hand around Saewulf’s neck to avoid tumbling to the ground.

“T-that’s not w-what happened at all!” I stammered in defense. “I only said that she wasn’t better than me because she’s rich!”

“Did you give the coin back then?” Saewulf asked.

I scoffed at the thought. “Of course not, Pa taught me better than that.”

They all laughed again. This time I joined them.

“Still not the full story though, is it?” Agatha said, a little more serious. “The scamp also proved his point by punching the Godstone. Everyone in the city wants to know what kind of idiot would taunt the gods. I hope that part of the story is also wrong.”

“You touched the stone?” Saewulf asked, all signs of levity gone from his face.

“I mean, yeah, I punched it.” I admitted. “When she touched it, nothing happened. They all started clapping like she’d just done something great. All that wealth and self-righteousness pissed me off all over again. I couldn’t help proving a point; she isn’t better than anyone, just richer. Anyway, nothing happened when I touched either. I wonder if it’s broken.”

Rollo and Saewulf looked at each other.

“Kid, you know how a Godstone works, don’t ya?” Saewulf asked.

“We don’t have them where I live, but I’ve heard the stories, of course. Even read about them a little. You touch the stone and you get a class. If you don’t, you join the Army. Right?”

Rollo sighed.

“Not quite, kid.” Saewulf took a long drink of his beer, then looked to compose himself. “So, with a minor Godstone like Rollo and I touched, you get your class right away. As long as you meet the set conditions, you get your ledger. For us, we had to sign a contract with an official mercenary company blessed by Koth, the God of war. There are no downsides for failing. Anybody can do it. That is the reason most people with a lick of sense only touch a minor Godstone.”

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Saewulf made a motion with his left hand, and an intricate silver book with a broken axe in its centre, the icon of Koth, appeared out of thin air. I had seen him read it a few times, and it amazed me each time.

“This is my Soul Ledger. It has my class, rank, skills, and all my attributes in it. But, because it is from a minor Godstone, it doesn’t have any power. That’s the tradeoff between a regular class and an Ascendant class. That way lay people can reach their potential, just like those chosen by the Gods.

It’s the same thing with the nobles. Most of ‘em touch a minor Godstone that Elzaar has in his temple. His only requirement is that you be of noble blood and not be a bastard. Just like Koth, Elzaar has his own list of classes to give people. I’m a [Ranger] and Rollo is a [Vanguard]. Likewise, Elzaar might give a [Knight] class or a [Courtier].

That’s why the Ascendancy ceremony you crashed today was such a big deal. Assuming her father wasn’t cuckolded, that girl passed on a sure thing. She had to believe, deep down in her bones, that one of the Gods had chosen her.”

“All right, but that still doesn’t change the fact that nothing happened.” I said.

“When you touch a major Godstone, you get twenty-four hours while the gods decide what to do with you. If none of them give you a blessing, you get the geas to fight in the Ruinlands.”

“Geas?”

“Yeah, a Geas. The gods force you to go out there and fight for a decade in one of their special multi-kingdom armies. And, let me tell you kid, you don’t want to fight for ten years with a bunch of men and women that are crazy enough to take the risk of touching a major Godstone or believe that they are one of the chosen of the Gods. There is a very high death rate with those units.” Saewulf said the last part with an almost subdued voice.

The reality crashed down on me hard, and my vision blackened around the edges.

What the Abyss had I done?

I couldn’t fight in an army! I was barely five and a half feet tall and bony as a bird. My life expectancy would be about as long as Sabine’s love for me.. What was worse was that I would never see my father again. He was the only family that I had, and it would devastate him.

My breathing became hard, and I frantically looked back and forth to my companions.

A steadying hand from Rollo landed on my shoulder.

“Calm down. Ain’t nothin’ for it. Only thing for us to do is get you blackout drunk.”

I agreed.

Forgetting was what I wanted to do more than anything in the world.

…

I knew something was off the moment I opened my eyes. I had drunk a prodigious amount of mead the night before, and on more than a few occasions I remembered thinking I hoped I would never wake up. Each time that happened, it spurred me to drink further.

Yet… I felt fine. Great, even.

Slowly, I extricated myself from under the limbs of Ingrid, Agatha’s far less attractive sister. Not that I am complaining; surely it had been way harder for her to sleep with me than the other way around. I was no longer a virgin, but as far as I am aware, that does not cure a hangover.

Once I got from under the covers, I got a good look at Ingrid’s unequal sized breasts. I vaguely had a memory of the much bigger left tit pleasantly slapping me in the face, whilst I held on to the perky right one for dear life. I really wished I could remember more. Ingrid interrupted my staring by letting out a massive fart in her sleep.

The stench spurred me away from her, and I began putting on my clothes.

Oddities continued to stack when I realized that the bed was much lower to the ground than it had been. My clothes felt much tighter than they had been the night before as well.

“Hey kid—well, I guess I can’t call you kid anymore, you are a man now,” Saewulf started through the open door, but paused when he saw me.

“Who the fuck are you?” Saewulf asked.

“What?” I said.

“Where is Harald?”

“I’m Harald.”

Saewulf moved in a blur, ramming his fist into my stomach. The punch knocked the air out of my lungs and sent me staggering back into the wall, and sliding to the floor on my ass.

“I am not the sort you want to play games with. Now, where is Harald? Don’t make me ask again.” Saewulf said.

“It’s me! I’m Harald!” I pleaded.

The commotion had apparently roused Ingrid, who I noticed didn’t bother to cover herself.

“You sure as shit ain’t the boy I fucked last night, I’d remember a looker like you.” She said with a leer.

“W-what!? This isn’t funny, you guys,” I said.

Saewulf reached for the blade sheathed on his belt, and I knew this was not a joke. He’d made it a point to explain to me you should never draw a weapon unless you intended on using. Threats are for braggarts and cowards, he had said. Saewulf was neither.

“Rollo’s wife is named Ursula! They have two kids, Ivette and Thomas! You are from Raxton!” I stammered.

Saewulf started in confusion. “Harald?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“Well, I guess you ascended.”