CHAPTER 8 – MISUNDERSTANDINGS AND PROGRESS

To Tom’s immense surprise, it was Bir who reacted:

“I’m allowed to explore.” She protested in a sulky tone. Then there was a pause. “Dim said, anywhere.”

“Not here.” The woman’s voice was flat. “All defence installations, excluding the orphanage, are off limits. They’re too dangerous.” Tom recognised the tone of a professional soldier. This was not you are breaking a small rule and I’m a petty guard attempting to demonstrate my authority kind of reaction. It was more if you take another couple of steps, you could kill yourself and I’m willing to beat you black and blue to prevent that.

“I’m allowed.”

His hand grabbed Bir’s shoulder. Pa’s did the same.

The woman smiled slightly, despite clearly trying to maintain the professional demeanour. Tom understood that reaction very well. Bir was cute when she got worked up. She reminded him of his little sister from back on earth.

“They are off-limits.” The woman repeated firmly. “Shoo. You aren’t allowed to be here.”

Tom nodded and pulled Bir backward. They turned to leave. As they did so, he got his first view of the town proper. The hill they were on was the only one in the walled-off section, but squished against the mini city was what could only be called a small mountain. It was constructed out of sandstone, but the architecture mirrored a cluster of crystals. Tom hoped it was ruins he was looking at, because the construction was certainly not man-made, and its scale reminded him a lot of the fortress the giant had claimed in the trial. Everything was far larger than it should have been. The fact that the doors were visible from almost four kilometres away meant they had to be twenty metres-tall, maybe even larger.

The town was built to press against the mountain, and used it as part of its defence. The walls were a perfect circle, with about a third of them missing where it pressed up against the steep slopes of the hill. To his left, it was around three kilometres to the wall, and to the right, a little over two. The entire place had been built with defence in mind, but not like you would see on earth. The defences mimicked the new reality that they found themselves in.

Numerous open spaces to provide air defence and walls that were eighty metres high with over a hundred towers placed at regular intervals around it. Together, they combined to protect against ground offensives as well as any aerial attacks. Tom couldn’t see it, but he suspected there were protections against anything approaching from the Underground as well. The engineering effort that had gone into the construction of the place was incredible.

On the macro level, he could see a range of mountains on one side, but whatever was located in the other directions was concealed by the walls.

“You’re not allowed here,” the woman behind them reminded them. The three of them startled at the unexpected prompt, and then they headed back down the hill toward the orphanage with slightly guilty glances. As they descended, the view of the wider city vanished as the standard buildings got in the way. The street was residential, with double story town houses constructed by earth manipulation, lining the streets. They would not have been out of place in any inner city environment, as they each had a small garden in front of them.

Of course, only Tom noticed that detail.

They walked down the road slowly. Bir was twirling and being silly. She had one of the lollies and it was doing something to her. She ran across the road again and back laughing.

There was a cough behind them.

They froze, turned and stared at the man who had appeared. They had not heard him approach, and he stared angrily at Bir.

“You’re dancing on the fast road. Have you been taught nothing? It’s restricted to people with rank forty speed. I almost ran straight through you. I almost killed you, you silly kids.”

Bir retreated into herself, as she always did when around strange adults. Her cheeks went red.

“We didn’t know, Sir.” Pa said instantly.

The man ignored him:

“This is not an acceptable behaviour. It’s dangerous, very dangerous” He stepped forward and grabbed Bir by her upper arm. “I don’t want to do this, but I have no choice. You have to be taught a lesson you remember so you won’t do it again.”

“Sir, we didn’t know.”

He disregarded Pa, put her over his knees and smacked her on her bottom.

“Do. Not. Play. On. the. Fast. Roads.” He said, punctuating each word with an open hand slap. The man’s face was grim the entire time.

Tom stared at the scene in disbelief. Logically, he understood this man thought he was doing the right thing. That he had come from a culture where physically disciplining children was normal. But…

Bir had started to wail with the first blow.

His mind went blank.

Little Ta’s memories showed that they had never had this rule explained to them. Sure, they could see the different colours between the two zones and feel the slightly softer surface on the non-fast part of the road, but this was not something they had been warned against.

And he was hitting her.

And Pa had told him it wasn’t her fault.

Tom’s fists clenched.

Who would do this? Who punished kids like this? The man doing the discipline looked no older than thirty, but Tom knew only too well that apparent age meant nothing. He could easily be a grandparent set in his ways with his age reset to his youth by the magic that created that tutorial. Or someone from part of earth that still saw smacking children as appropriate punishment.

It didn’t matter.

This was Bir. She had done nothing wrong. They hadn’t known better. They shouldn’t be the ones being punished. It should be the volunteers who had failed to explain the rules instead; worse, the man seemed to enjoy what he was doing.

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Bir was screaming now. It wasn’t right - all she had been doing was having some fun!

The pressure was mounting in him. It rose from the pit of his stomach, and was uncontainable. This was unfair, disproportionate. This was an adult punishing a child for nothing. There might be rules on the fast lane, but Tom knew that someone with rank forty speed also had the perception to prevent a collision.

Even if the rule existed, it had not been put in place to restrict little children, but older adults.

Snot was running down her face. The man had a grim look, but a small smile.

Pervert, Tom thought.

It was unacceptable!

The man dropped Bir. “I don’t take any pleasure in this.”

She fell hard on the ground her hands barely reacting in time to cushion the fall.

The anger fused as a tight knot in his brain, and he charged.

After all those years of fighting, the knowledge of how to make the most of his body flashed through him. He released fate to increase the chance of him landing a big hit. Then he launched himself, attempting to drive an elbow into the person’s balls. With his full weight behind it, it was the one spot weak enough that even a blow from a four-year-old could have an impact.

Air swept around him and plucked him from the ground.

The man stared at him. “What the hell are you doing?” He tilted his head sideways as he asked, and then his nose wrinkled in confusion as Tom continued to futilely swing his fists in an attempt to hit him. They were missing by more than a couple of inches. Held there, suspended in the air, he attempted to scream obscenities, but his throat choked up and stopped him.

Above, on the hill, there were flashes of light and loud bangs as multiple artillery cannons fired… the ground shook slightly. A piece of the road under the man’s foot broke, and he fell hard. Vibrations split the corner of the house next to them, causing a chunk of stone as large as Tom to fall. A wind blast slammed into all of them. It made the adventurer stumble and knocked Pa off his feet.

The falling slab of rock struck the ground and shattered. A small piece flew into the man’s eyes, causing him to flinch backwards and then blink furiously.

The bubble of energy holding Tom suspended in the air did not waiver for a moment.

Then healing flowed over the man, and internally Tom cursed that outcome. Half a second later, he was no longer damaged.

The spent fate had shifted probabilities, but not enough. Despite its efforts, Tom was trapped now, unable to do anything.

At that realisation, icy tendrils of reason spread through Tom’s mind. The pit of anger receded, and he knew how foolish his blind attack had been.

Bird poo splashed onto the man’s face, striking the eye. He was blinking busily because of the shrapnel.

Tom attempted to fix the situation by apologising, but that set off another coughing fit. Shock went through him as he realised the implications of both this and his earlier throat tightening. There could only be a single explanation for those coincidences. Social Silence, no matter what he had thought, was not lost, instead it was apparently active and helping. First, by preventing swear words a four-year-old wouldn’t know, and now by stopping an apology that likewise would make no sense. The skill was not a panacea - he knew how limiting it was. This was an issue he needed to fix himself, so, in order to avoid suspicion, he gave up on rational action and leant into being a little kid.

“Don’t hit Bir.” He screamed, channelling his inner child. “You’re not allowed to hit her.”

The man spat in disgust as some of the poo had trickled into his mouth.

“Well, you’ve got spirit, don’t you?” he said, his tone clinically cold.

“You sad, old, bastard!”

“Shut up.” the man growled, and Tom found himself unable to speak as the wave of force holding him in place spread and closed over his mouth. The restrictions were so complete it was a struggle to breathe. Even his nostrils were partially blocked.

The adventurer wiped the remaining bird poo off his face, and then a clean spell left him spotless.

“You brats and your involuntary fate release. I hate it.” He was staring at Tom like he was a particularly annoying insect. “I’ve heard all the stories about how often that happens in the orphanage. Never had any desire to volunteer, so never thought it would happen to me. It was even more unpleasant than expected.” He glanced suspiciously up at the sky and then across to the house that had partially broken. “Can’t believe a four-year-old did that to me and - were you really trying to hit me? Do you understand anything? I’m a front-line adventurer! Do you have a single brain cell in your head?”

Tom struggled against the air magic constraining him, but the attempt was hopeless.

“You’re crazy, you know? I don’t know what to think. You’re either going to end up as something special or die young. For now, you have to learn the consequences of challenging those stronger than you.”

There was a small ripple of energy and the invisible forces restraining him fell away.

As he fell, he tried to tumble correctly, but his body was slow, unresponsive, clumsy. He twisted enough, so the impact was on his shoulder and executed a partial role that prevented any serious damage, but his face still smacked into the hard ground. It was probably going to leave a graze, and it felt like a tooth might have been chipped.

Diagnostic magic washed over him, but no healing power accompanied it. The man had obviously decided his injuries were too minor to worry about and leaving them was probably supposed to be some sort of lesson. He was plucked off the ground and placed across the man’s knee.

“No! no!” He fought and tried to land a blow, but his arms were too small and the hand on the back of his neck, too strong. He was bent over the person’s knee. The anger consuming him was not extreme, but Tom lashed out anyway. At the very least, he needed to keep up appearances. His flailing fists connected with the man’s ankles and hidden spikes on the armour cut into his skin.

Slap.

There was a stinging pain on his buttocks. The blow was actually surprisingly gentle. The slaps were making lots of noise, but they weren’t hard. Tom was in control, but he punched the man again this time aiming for the foot. When it connected, it felt like he cracked a knuckle. Tom almost whimpered the pain. The crazy adventurer wore metal shoes in town, so it was like he had hit a brick wall. Who did that?

Slap.

Another sharp blow.

Tom didn’t try to retaliate, knowing it was futile.

The punishment came faster, and he lost count.

The strikes stopped abruptly. His backside felt hot.

The man dumped him back onto his feet. “Learn to respect your elders and don’t be so stupid as to pick a fight with someone that much stronger than you.”

Then, suddenly, the adventurer was gone, and Tom used his years of experience to stop wailing like a child. Then he pulled his pants up and tried to look dignified.

Briefly, he glanced at his hands and the bloody bruises and cuts his own blows had left. His bum stung and throbbed, but that was nothing like the pain in his hands. That fate attack he had released when consumed by rage had taken up two-thirds of his fate. With a sigh, he channelled what remained and directed it toward healing his fists. He knew what he had to do, and that was to stop the bleeding and fix the cuts. He would leave the bruising for later. He created the spell form, and it came together almost instantly because of the hundreds of times he had practiced it over the last week. It washed over the cuts and caused the skin to itch on both hands.

There was a ding that only he could hear, and he felt a thrill of excitement go through him. He knew it was a spell acquisition, and he couldn’t have been happier. Progress, demonstratable progress that was that ding had signified - and it had only been a week! It didn’t matter how weak the spell was, if he could do this much every handful of days… By the time he reached fifteen years of age, his base would be terrifying.

The bleeding had stopped, and even the bruising that had not been his focus had receded somewhat. It was not perfect. The deeper cuts on the knuckles remained, as he only had eight mana, after all. But the small injuries looked like they were four days old instead of fresh.

“Are you hurt?” Pa asked. He was looking at the blood.

“No, I’m fine.” He flexed hands marvelling at the lack of pain the movement caused. “They’re not deep. The cuts have already closed.”

Bir, who had been shocked out of her brawling by Tom’s intervention, was staring at the wet red covering his fingers:

“We have to go back and get a heal?”

Tom shook his head:

“Did you see the evil man get pooped on?”

He watched Bir like a hawk as he said it. Through the tears, she smiled, and that made his own pain more than worthwhile.

That, and having successfully acquired his first spell.