Ander felt a slight wave of elation come over him. He could turn his earth skills into real system skills. It was a fascinating thing, and he quickly moved on to each one of his other skills.
Congratulations! You have created Skill: Gaming!
Skill: Gaming is level 24.
Congratulations! You have created Skill: Cooking!
Skill: Cooking is Level 3.
Congratulations! You have created Skill: Advanced Mathematics!
Skill: Advanced Mathematics is level 45.
Congratulations! You have created Skill: Chemistry!
Skill: Chemistry is Level 32.
Congratulations! You have created Skill: Bomb Construction!
Skill: Bomb Construction is level 56.
The last one made Ander pause as it came up on the screen. He had been on a roll and not paying attention to what he was turning into actual skills. If he had his way, he would have just left Bomb Construction to slowly fade into his soul and out of his memory. It was not something he was interested in anymore.
Still, his efforts were a success, and he found he had turned most of his pre-system skills into ones that the system could properly recognize. The other patterns were so small that Ander figured he would have to wait for them to grow, or for them to go away. So Ander turned away from his old skills and toward something else.
The pattern for Walker of Memories was both large and highly complex, a true marvel of mastery that had been branded on his soul. He reached out to it, and trying not to modify it, instead willed it to activate. Without warning, thousands of golden threads appeared all around Ander. Unlike when he activated it normally, there was no meditation required. Moreover he found himself in the midst of the golden threads immediately. This was an odd change, though there was so much odd about this void space that he couldn’t tell what might be normal or not.
Ander could tell that there was an obvious beginning and end, at least there was an obvious end to the bundle of strings. Every string ended abruptly at the exact same time, and seemed to be growing further. If you traced a line from that point, it would be taking you into the past, where eventually you will meet dozens of other lines that ended before reaching the current cutoff line. And while the strings seemed to stretch on indefinitely at first, he could tell that there was a point, dozens of generations back, where the strings started to fray and eventually disappear.
Ander projected his desire into the midst of the strings. His desire was simple. Spells. Powerful spells, and ones that meshed well with his Way of the Wind skill. Apparently he had been extremely lucky to have survived the experience of getting his Way of the Wind skill intact. Moreover it had helped him through a huge number of bad experiences. Any magic he could find that might enhance his fighting style would be fantastic.
A string approached quickly, centering him before a particular bead relatively close to the start. When Ander entered the memory, he found himself within the body of a man standing in a practice yard. It was warm and sunny, the perfect spring day where everyone is clamoring for a picnic. Not Ander’s host though, he was committed to learning a new spell.
“Ok Marek, are you ready?” the obvious instructor said.
“Yes Master!” Ander’s host replied without hesitation. It had the feel of something said so many times it was reflexive at this point.
“Very well. You asked to learn the wind blade spell to assist with your pugilism correct?”
“Yes Master!”
“Why?”
“Master?”
“You are a pugilist first and foremost. Wind Blade is mostly for swordsmen. Why do you want it?” The Master gave Marek a penetrating stare.
“Um, well, I am looking to add more damage types to my repertoire. I fought some mushroom creatures the other day. I managed to kill them but it took several hours. Their flesh is highly resistant to bludgeoning damage.”
“Very well. A good enough reason. I suppose you will be looking to add even more damage types?”
“Yes Master.”
“Very well then. This is how you perform the Wind Blade Spell.”
Ander spent hours with Marek and his master, learning Wind Blade. The spell formed tiny vortices of air all along the blade, turning the straight cutting edge into something more akin to a very fine chainsaw. It actually worked far better for Marek than what Ander expected. Marek had formed the spell along the edge of his open hand and struck with chops that could tear through flesh and bone with surprising ease. Of course, having a normal blade was still better. One of the things the spell did was pull the blade through the material it was cutting. It didn’t provide much extra force, but the thinner the blade the spell was connected to, the more effective the secondary effect.
When Ander was done, he found a new distinct skill mingling amongst the others. Ander frowned. He had thought that spells were different from skills. They had whole different pages on the UI. Though, Ander supposed that wasn’t much evidence to say they were any different. He stared at the Wind Blade spell and compared it to his other skills for several minutes. By the time he decided to look away, he thought he had found some difference, but couldn’t put his finger on it.
Ander turned back to the golden threads. He searched through, finding and learning several more spells. Fireball was the first he learned, because who doesn’t love a good fireball. He then learned a spell called prestidigitation. Prestidigitation didn’t do much other than remind Ander of playing DnD, but it could be upgraded into Telekinesis somewhere down the line. Ander had tried to find telekinesis, but failed. The place seemed so easy to interact with. It meant that either no-one in his family line had ever learned the spell, or there was something funky going on.
It was at this point that Ander discovered something he didn’t like. Most of his soul was covered with patterns. Ander hadn’t considered what it meant to have his soul engraved like this, if there were any risks involved. However, a very immediate and real risk presented itself. If he gained too many more skills, would he be able to add any more once his soul was covered? He had not been overly careful with what skills he chose, gaining some of them naturally. Would he have some glaring weaknesses in his build? Disappointed, Ander decided to stop looking for more skills. He needed to wait until he had a better Idea of what was necessary.
That did not mean he was done with Walker of Memories however. If this time was anything like last time, he was about to hatch out of another egg and back into Exodar society. Which meant he needed to learn some things. Man, he really hoped that he didn’t get drafted again. That would be awkward.
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Ander reached out to the golden threads and was drawn to a convergence of some hundred threads. Each had a bead where they converged, and he chose one of them at random.
. . .
The Creation Day decorations were truly sublime this year. Alia always loved the Creation Day decorations. They gave her such a sense of peace and joy, knowing all the sacrifices the Creator made on their behalf. Even now, though he was out of their sight he protected them. Alia walked in a procession with the rest of her coven behind their husband as they walked past pew upon pew of seated commoners. The children. Their children, most of them. There were a few of them who were traveling merchants or the like, in the area for business on creation day. Poor souls. It was really too bad they couldn’t be with their father lord and their mothers on this most holy of days.
The group passed by the altar at the front of the cathedral, bowing before it, and the priest standing to the side. The priest was a commoner, but he occupied a special place, having given all to serve the creator. He deserved respect for that, though he had never gained the mantle of a noble lord. After their genuflection was complete, they walked up a set of stairs to a balcony where four thrones sat. One was obviously larger for her wonderful husband, while the others were smaller, made perfectly comfortable for her and her coven sisters. Luckily for Alia, it was her turn to sit just to the right of her husband, with Maia sitting to her right. It was the best of spots, and every year they switched. Next year she would take Maia’s spot. Which really was the worst. Since there were three of them, one of them couldn’t sit by their husband.
A crystal ringing sound flowed over the entire congregation, and Alia looked up to see one of the Altarmen holding a golden bell high over his head. It was the call to start the worship. A second ring followed the first, and a third shortly thereafter. As soon as the third ring fell silent, the choir started to sing. It was a beautiful haunting melody, reminding the people of the creator’s tears at their wickedness. A little somber for a Creator’s Day, but appropriate.
As soon as the singing stopped, the voice of the priest rose high to cover the entire congregation.
“Rejoice o people! Rejoice for the one who made us anew!.”
“Rejoice! Rejoice!” The people said in unison.
“The World before was full of chaos! Different creatures of every kind stalked the lands. Among them were ones most cunning and deceitful. Devils who corrupted the land and made it theirs. The wiley Elves seduced the righteous with the illusion of beauty to hide their corruption!
“Rejoice for the corruption is gone!” Alia raised her voice with that of her people, with joy in the blessings of their creator.
“The Dwarves, full of hate, made weapons to destroy the righteous!”
“Rejoice for the corruption is gone!”
“Only humanity, though they were weak, could resist the corruption.”
“Praise be! Praise be!”
“And so, when humanity pleaded before The Creator, He did not stay his hand!”
“Praise be to the one who made us anew!”
“The Creator in his wisdom gave humanity a new form! He made them, reshaped them, until they were Exodar!”
“May we serve until the final end!”
“He smote the devils who infested the planet, taking from them their magic, and granting it to the faithful.”
“Be faithful to the one most high!”
“But they were not faithful. After their victory, they became indolent and prideful, and refused to grant the creator his due.”
“Please have faith in the one most high!” This last sentence had a note of pleading. A wail rose up from several of the choristers, illustrating the devastation caused by their ancestors lack of faith.
“The Creator was displeased, and smote his people. ‘In your faith I gave you magic,’ The creator said. ‘In your disbelief I take it away.’”
“Forgive us our transgressions beloved Creator!” Alia felt the burning shame in her heart. It felt like her fault this had all happened, though the creator had been gone for nearly a thousand years now.
“But The Creator left us a promise! ‘I will come again, and test my people’s faith. If you are worthy, and do not stray, my blessings will once again be given to the faithful.’”
“Let your blessings come upon the faithful!”
“And so we worship! We attend our duties! We show to our Creator that we are worthy when the time comes of his return!” Cheering broke out, and Alia’s heart swelled with both excitement and determination. The Creator might not return in her lifetime, but she would pass the torch so that future generations would be able to meet him with pride.
. . .
Ander was reminded why he didn’t like going to church. They were all a bunch of crazies. And, while this did give him some information, he felt that this was probably a highly biased story. It told of an all powerful god with the power to remake people at a whim. But the system specifically designated Exodar as bioengineered. Moreover, the Creator’s removal of magic from his people, is specifically designated as an error in the UI. Ander suspected that the story was a complete load of bull. Especially given that the error reports were being blocked from the multiverse net somehow. This ‘god’ was tampering with things he was not supposed to, and he didn’t want anyone figuring out.
Ander pushed out his desire for more information, but could only find more sermons like the one he had just experienced. That made him pause. He had memories from humans before the change, like Scori and Senoc, but nothing historical. Ander had a growing suspicion, and it was the same thing he had sensed earlier when trying to find Telekinesis. Ander suspected that at least half of the golden threads were simply missing. For example, Scori was present. Every memory from the fragmented baby memories to the memories of him on his deathbed. Same for Senoc. But neither Scori’s father, nor Senoc’s friend were represented. Senoc’s friend might make sense if their bloodlines never crossed, but if Scori’s memories were in his skill, shouldn’t his father’s be as well? Same with Alia and her husband. Alia was there, but her husband was not. Unless his bloodline was the result of her cheating or being raped, the husband should be there too. And this society gave off the feeling of being very faithful.
At least half of the threads were gone, but Ander suspected that he really had only a small fraction of what he should have. A small curated set of experiences that someone else decided he should have.
As Ander pondered this, there was a change in the void. It had seemed so very empty before. It was not a nice place to be, but it gave no feeling of hostility, not like it did now.
It was also considerably less empty than it was before.
Ander couldn’t tell what was going on at first, until a pitch black tentacle was silhouetted against the golden threads. It struck out toward Ander, tearing apart a dozen golden threads as it struck his soul. Unbelievable agony tore through Ander as his soul was wounded. Still, his soul was rather malleable, and there was far less damage than he might think. Ander dispelled the golden threads, worried that permanent damage might be done to them. Another attack struck his soul, penetrating deeply before it was rebuffed by his soul’s resilient material. Ander pushed through the agony as he made his way toward the screen.
“Reincarnate me now!” he screamed at the screen.
You have died within range of a reincarnation totem.
Checking eligibility…
We are sorry, but you are not eligible to use this reincarnation totem.
You have been denied by Rule 2: No Exodar.
If you see this message in error, please contact the owner of the reincarnation totem to resolve this issue.
Owner has not been online in Approx. 3000 years.
Would you like to perform an Administrator override?
Yes/No
“Yes dammit!” Ander screamed as two attacks came in one right after another.
Congratulations, you are eligible to use this reincarnation totem.
Would you like to reincarnate?
Yes / No
Ander screamed yes again.
Searching for sapient lifeforms….
Searching….
Searching….
Sapient lifeforms detected…
“Use previous settings and reincarnate me!” Ander screamed.
Use of previous settings confirmed.
Reincarnating, please stand by.
Congratulations on choosing Exodar.
You will be reincarnated in
3…
2…
1…
Ander screamed as several more attacks landed, but then, he was gone.