A promise is only as strong as the will of the person making it.
- A Quassian aphorism.
I touched the handle of the dark wood of the door, the moment like that of a solemn ceremony. I could almost feel a new chapter of my story in this game beginning. The drama of the moment, however, was soon ruined by Larynda.
“Wait, a second!” she cried. I turned around just in time to see her disappearing into a side room.
Crossing my arms impatiently, I waited for her to return. Half a minute later, she was carrying two staves in her small arms. The head of one of the staves knocked against the head of the door, causing her to bleat out a curse.
“Silly things, I always seem to forget them!” she explained with a weak smile.
“A magician’s staff? Staves?” I asked with genuine interest.
“Correct! Okay!” she bubbled.
“Do you really need both of them? And, I don't think that’s quite how you use that word…” I began, unsure if she was using the word correctly. So used was I to the words of this world that hearing butchered English felt jarring.
The dark patterns and swirling designs on both staves struck a chord of familiarity within me. Animals, both known and fantastical, were intricately carved into the wood with an artist’s passion and a craftsman’s rough skill. I recognized the handiwork instantly—Kidu's touch was unmistakable.
The staves, though similar in shape, were markedly different in their details. One, fashioned from a lighter grain of wood, was adorned with sapphire crystals that sprouted like buds near the top, culminating in a bulbous gem at its tip. The other, a dark ochre hue, was festooned with bone fetishes, fangs, and copper discs that clattered with the girl’s every movement.
“Sorry about that! I always forget to take them with me,” she apologized with an embarrassed half-smile, shouldering both of the magical staves.
Puzzled, I asked, “Why so?”
“Don’t really see the point… Vince says that it will help with correctly forming spell constructs and stuff. But the thing is…” she blushed, looking embarrassed for a moment and turning away. “Well, the thing is, you never used them and you did just fine didn’t you?”
I tried to open the door, pushing futilely against it until I realized that I had to pull. Finally exiting the Necromancer’s lair, I decided that a response was in order.
“I never knew if they helped. I never had anyone to guide or teach me. Perhaps, you should consider listening to those who are further along in their path. Those who are older and wiser than you,” I tried to say sounding sagacious.
It must have worked for I saw her nodding her head thoughtfully as we walked up the stairs. The girl was still of an age where she could be easily influenced, I observed. Cheerfully she followed behind me. Larynda wasn’t skipping, not quite, but there was a bounce to her step that even the most casual of observers could not miss.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Yet, as I paused to take it in, I noticed a subtle shift. The air seemed to crackle with a new energy, a palpable sense of urgency and determination. Adventurers and staff alike moved with a newfound purpose, their steps quicker. Even the murmur of the gathered crowd around the jobs board was tinged with a more vibrant intensity. Things were different.
“Just wondering, you know, am I like older than you now?” asked the half-elven girl somewhat flippantly.
“Did time stop for me in the dream?” I replied, not even bothering to glance in her direction.
I started to push through the throng, uncaring for the occasional heated glares cast in my direction. There must have been something about me, for none dared impede me. A wildness was threading in the atmosphere, one that had not been present five years ago.
A few scant moments from the exit a girlish voice cried out to us. “Ley, Lynda!”
“Melli!” Larynda cooed back, almost jumping.
A girl, no, a young woman in truth, nearly sprinted up to Larynda. Exuberance and the untamed hope of youth were writ large upon her face, mirrored in the gleam of her eyes. This creature, Melli, was slender, her skin a dark chocolate, her hair a striking platinum white, bound high in a ponytail. The only real armor she wore was a fluted cuirass of silvered steel, etched with delicate floral designs that caught the light. At her hip jangled a delicate rapier with a basket hilt, accompanied by a long parrying dagger. So delicate was her sword, that it treaded upon ornamental.
“How are you doing? It’s been what… weeks!” Larynda almost squealed.
“We just got back escorting that Quassian oddball. Remember the one who had a thing for the old ruins in the desert? Sand, sand, everywhere! We had to hunker down for almost a whole week with the sandstorm that came out of nowhere! It was so scary, swore a ghost of a woman floating about just before we closed up!” cried Melli, her purple eyes shining with vented emotion.
Wait, purple eyes? A curiosity came over, a need to know about this Melli who seemed so friendly to Larynda. Being the miser that I was with Mana, I cast Identify instead of the more costly Sage’s Sight.
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Melliana Lapwing - Blade Dancer [Elf lvl.17]
Health: 195/195
Stamina: 35/37
Mana: 10/10
Vaguely interesting, I thought to myself. Her class was a cut above the more mundane Fighter or Soldier, but still nothing extraordinary. However, she had a relatively high Mana pool for a martial class, which made me think she might have a good head on her shoulders.
She lost points, of course, for being an elf. Yet there was something different about her compared to those who had nearly taken my life outside of Ansan. Melliana lacked their cold, effortless killer grace. Her eyes held a warmth, an almost human one, if you looked closely.
The elf noticed me looking at her. “Who’s this then Lynda?”
“That’s just my errr… old…” she began.
“Larynda is my ward,” I explained laconically in a clipped tone.
The female elf stepped closer, invading my personal space without a care in the world. She looked me up and down as if I were an exotic animal that had suddenly learned to speak. My hand twitched towards the dagger at my waist, itching to slice her delicate neck. To spill red crimson in an explosion of glory. But current circumstances dictated that this would not be the wisest of moves. No, I would prove to myself that I was in control.
“Meli…” Larynda warned, her expression changing to one of frightened worry.
“Now, I’d like to see what you look like behind that…” Melliana said fearlessly, reaching a hand toward my face.
I settled for the next best thing instead.
Improved Entropic Aura burst from in a howl, the spell coming to me as naturally now as if breathing. The funereal waves of grey lapped against the elf and exposed her to the final certainty of the cosmos. In that passing moment, everything made sense. It became as I wished it to be.
A space was created as the people around sensed the sudden approaching storm of violence. A circle had formed.
Melliana had instinctively jumped back a good way and was now beginning to lower her center and was reaching for the weapons at her side.
So slow, I thought to myself as the moment continued to stretch with an almost laborious slowness. Improved Dash made a mockery of the distance between us and her eyes widened in shocked surprise.
I slammed both hands on the handles of her weapons, stopping her from drawing her blades.
Silence ruled. It was a pressing thing that demanded to be broken.
Mellianna began to kick futilely against me. Armored as I was, her blows felt like the lightest of touches. Among the Adventurers, none dared to offer her aid. I looked down and saw for the first time the Silver Badge that also served as her belt buckle.
The flush of her face and her pathetic struggles stirred a feeling I had not felt in a long time—a slow heat in my loins. An evil grin crossed my face. "You would be foolish to draw steel against me," I stated in my most authoritative voice. "Do you understand?"
Her eyes searched mine, looking for an answer. Melianna needed convincing. My Mimic's eye opened with deliberate slowness, focusing on her a most baleful glare. Horrified, she nodded slowly, moving her hands shakily away from the handles of her sword and dagger.
I released my grip and allowed her to step back. I noticed the leather of her belt beginning to crack and the first signs of tarnish appearing on the silver of her badge. With a small effort of will, I drew the Improved Entropic Aura back into myself.
Fen once prattled on about how masters of the art of war carried an aura, a primal presence that others sensed on an instinctual level. It made people feel fear, as if they were staring into the jaws of a predator. Though I had not yet reached such heights, I felt that my Improved Entropic Aura provided me a convincing impression of such a feat.
Larynda had disappeared, and I was about to call out to her and walk away when Melianna decided to compound her stupidity.
Now that the immediate danger had passed, I saw that a spark of defiance remained in Larynda’s friend.
"I... I... cha... cha... challenge you to a..." she blurted out, stammering her words.
The crowd had already begun to disperse. Disinterested now that the fight was over, most simply shook their heads and returned to their business. Fights between Adventurers must be a common occurrence indeed, I idly mused.
Melliana’s challenge, I thought, was nothing more than a desperate need to save face after such a thorough humiliation. However, it was a spark that needed to be stamped out.
Swiftly, I held up a hand, cutting her off. She visibly winced at my sudden movement, and I could barely restrain myself from laughing. A part of me almost felt bad about playing the role of the bully.
Anger began to win over fear, and Melliana’s expression turned to one of petulant wrath. “You will not accept because I am a girl, right!?” she accused. “You Dayspawn are always like that!”
“Larynda!” I called out, ignoring her completely.
The blonde half-elven girl scuttled into sight beside me. She shot Melliana an accusatory look.
“Melli… just please let it go,” she tried to warn her friend again. “And you shouldn’t call people that, you know,” she added, sounding a little hurt.
It was time to try a different tack.
“Women hold up half the sky,” I offered, savoring her look of confusion. “Your prejudice speaks ill of you,” I continued. “I did not refuse because you are a woman. No, I did not accept because you are so far beneath me that it would not be worth the effort to draw steel against you.”
The last I saw of her, she was quivering with impotent rage.
I turned my back on her, dismissing her completely. I spared her for Larynda’s sake, if nothing else. No doubt she would harbor resentment in her heart for me, clinging to it like a beggar to his last few coins, for a long time. Not that I cared, of course.
Ezlas stood by the exit, giving me a challenging stare as we passed. There were a few strands of grey in his hair now, and the lines around his eyes were more pronounced, but he looked as formidable as ever. Our eyes met, and I returned his gaze with casual disinterest. Seeing that I was unafraid, he simply nodded in approval. Though he did not recognize me, he recognized something. Sometimes, words were not required between men.
As if in acknowledgment of this fact, the world rewarded me.
You have gained 1 Charisma.