“We should maintain a low profile for the next few days,” Zyneth finally says as we arrive back at our room. “Lay low. Let things settle.”
“You do not think Yedzaquib will come after us?” I ask.
Zyneth takes one last glance around the hall before closing the door after us and locking the bolt. “Not anytime soon—I’m fairly certain you blinded him.”
Oh shit. I did, didn’t I? Echo had been trying to give updates that whole fight, but with the predator so prevalent, it seemed like she kept shorting out. Another mystery for another day.
A lot has happened since this morning, so I give myself a quick Check over.
[Name: Kanin]
[Species: N/A]
[Class: Wizard]
[Level: 11]
[HP: 10/10]
[Temp HP: 330]
[Mana: 2/75]
[Bonus Mana: 0]
[Void: 0%]
[Role: Homunculus]
“Hey, I leveled up.”
Zyneth stares at me blankly for a moment. “You what?”
“You know, the levels,” I say, sitting down on the edge of Zyneth’s bed. “The way Echo tracks my stats.”
“Ah yes.” Zyneth sounds more tired than interested, but he sits across from me in the room’s solitary chair. “The fight with Yedzaquib, likely.”
“Probably,” I agree.
“So how do these stat things work?” Zyneth asks. “You mentioned they increase each level, but do you feel any different? If I leveled up, would I notice?”
“I do not know,” I admit. “It usually heals any breaks in my vial, but that is about all I notice. And then I have more mana to work with. So I am getting stronger.”
“The question is, is this leveling causing your increased stats, or is it merely tracking them as you naturally grow in strength?”
I rock back on the bed. “I have literally never considered that.”
“Do the levels even mean anything?” Zyneth wonders. “It all seems so arbitrary.”
“When I leveled up the first time, I was able to choose a class,” I say. “If it was not for picking wizard, I would not have had enough mana to build this body. Or at least it would have taken me a lot longer.”
“Yes, you mentioned that,” Zyneth says with a frown. “Wizard, Artificer, Healer—they seem to roughly approximate the main three branches of study within the arcane. However there are so many fields under those umbrellas. And the other non-mage classes you mentioned seem more descriptive than actual career choices.”
“I wonder if it will let me choose a focus later,” I say, but even as I suggest it, I feel a twinge of guilt. There will be no later. You’re going back to Earth.
[Affirmative,] Echo says.
I pause, startled by her interjection. What is affirmative?
[At level 20 the user’s class will provide branching evolutions for new classes which provide a more specific focus,] Echo says.
“Oh,” I say. “Echo says my class can evolve, letting me pick a focus. In nine more levels.”
Zyneth smiles wryly. “I’m not sure I want to know what that looks like. You’re already a menace, and if what you say is true, you’re only a third my level. The world won’t be prepared for the magic of an experienced Kanin.”
“Honestly, I would rather have more health than magic,” I grumble. “At least you do not have to worry about dying from someone bumping into you the wrong way.”
Although that does remind me that Zyneth likely isn’t at full health right now either. I Check his stats.
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[Name: Zyneth]
[Species: Cambion]
[Class: Rogue Artificer]
[Level: 33]
[HP: 103/150]
[Mana: 640/640]
“Oh!” I say. “You leveled up, too.”
“I did?” Zyneth looks down at himself as if he’d be able to see the same words and numbers I can. “I don’t feel any different.”
“Your mana is a little higher,” I say.
“Strange.” Zyneth shakes his head. “I’ll have to take your word for it.”
Finding out if anyone else on this planet has any kind of magic that would let them see stats was another thing I had wanted to look into while I was at the library. That obviously isn’t an option anymore. Yet another mystery about my experience to remain unsolved.
“You are also hurt,” I add.
Zyneth raises an eyebrow. “Your Echo can even tell you that much?”
“I do not know where or how, just that you are not at full health,” I say. Wait. Why hasn’t he mentioned it before now? Is he hiding it? “Should I be worried?”
“No,” Zyneth says. “It’s nothing lasting. I was going to go find a healer here in a moment anyway. I just wanted to make sure you were settled first.”
I’m already on my feet and crossing the room. Apart from some cuts and bruises on his face, I don’t immediately see anything wrong. Although his torn and dusty clothes make it hard to see much of anything that might be underneath.
“I’m alright,” he insists.
Torn clothes. I grab his shirt sleeve; his jacket was already so dark I hadn’t noticed before, but now that I’m looking for it, I catch it shimmering with blood.
“Zyneth,” I say. “Show me.”
He hesitates, then grimaces as he rolls up his sleeve, gingerly peeling the fabric away. Four gashes run up his forearm, tacky and dark crimson with blood.
Four gashes caused by the void claw I’d summoned to catch him.
“Expletive.” Irritated, I repeat the swear in sign language as I sink down to his level. “I did not realize—I am sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he says. “You saved my life. Multiple times. I’m just sorry you had to put yourself in a position to be used by that creature to do so.”
The reminder fills me with disgust. “The only reason you needed to be saved was because I dragged you along on that suicidal heist in the first place.”
He smiles through the grimace. “Glad to hear you’re finally taking ownership of that.”
“I hope you are not just using my guilt to force me to admit what a selfish idiot I am,” I say. “Because it is working.”
He chuckles, carefully swinging his bag around to remove some bandages. “I didn’t want you blaming yourself for this, actually. The choice to steal the crystal was idiotic, yes. But what the predator does—that’s not your fault.” He hands me the bandages. “Help me unwrap these. I suppose the shirt’s a lost cause at this point. Might as well keep the wound clean until I find a healer.”
I begin to unwind the bandages, feeling completely unqualified to be delivering medical aid, no matter how basic.
“It was not controlling me,” I say. “Maybe… influencing me. But I was in control. Mostly.”
“How completely reassuring.” Zyneth holds out his arm. “Start here. Wrap skin-tight, firm, but not too much pressure.”
I awkwardly follow his instructions. “It kept trying to take control, but I was able to direct it.”
Zyneth winces as I accidentally pull a section too tight. “Like pointing a wyvern toward a wormrat.”
“I have no idea what that is,” I say. “But sure.”
“Do you think you can keep it under control from now on?” he asks.
I cast a mental glance the predator’s way. It’s not paying attention. It strangely seems to be… conversing with itself. As much as that thing can communicate. It’s the part of the predator that’s been with me the past few days and the part of the predator that just emerged, I realize. They’re… trading thoughts and memories. Like the first one is trying to get the second up to speed.
It’s weird as fuck.
“Yes,” I say. “As long as I keep an eye on it. But I cannot keep it up forever. If something like today happens again—if I slip up for just a second, and it pulls any more of itself from my Inventory, I will officially be outnumbered.”
Zyneth sighs, taking the end of the bandage back from me. He one-handedly ties off the end, like he’s done it a hundred times. “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it,” he says. “Thank you for your help.”
“I have a growing suspicion you did not actually need it,” I say.
He chuckles. “Figured you could use the distraction.”
That jerk. “Now I am going to have anxiety dreams over you judging me for my bandaging skills.”
Neither of us comment on the fact that I can’t dream.
“Are you doing better?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say. “And I hope you are not asking because you are waiting to get medical help until you know I am not going to have another mental breakdown.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Zyneth says, standing. “That’s not the only reason.”
“Hilarious.” I stand with him.
Keeping his injured arm out of the way, he swings his bag around and pulls out the arcana crystal. “I feel it would be better guarded with you.”
I can feel the predator’s attention snap around the crystal. I’m not even touching it yet, and I can sense the air around it crackling with magic. I take careful stock of myself and of the predator and, surprisingly, I’m confident I can hold it back. I got this.
I take the crystal. The predator presses against my mind, itching to take back control of its void, but I force it away.
“Be careful out there,” I tell Zyneth. “If you are not back soon, I will come looking for you.”
“I would highly advise against doing that, but we both know how well you listen to my advice.”
“Ouch.”
“In all seriousness, though, we need to work on your communication,” he adds. “No more unilateral decisions. You can talk now—so speak to me when you have a plan. Especially if that plan concerns those other than yourself.”
My shoulders slump in shame. Deep in my soul, I know he’s right. “I—yeah. I am sorry. I will try to do better.”
“Don’t try—commit,” he says. Then his tone lightens. “I will be back before nightfall. The wounds are largely superficial and should be quick to heal. I also need to grab some food for the next few days. Some of us still need to eat, after all.”
“Double ouch.”
He smiles. “That one was rather uncalled for, wasn’t it?”
“You think?” Coming from him, though, it doesn’t bother me. It feels nice to have someone to banter with, especially after all the shit we just went through. Teases about something so comparatively trivial summon an almost foreign sense of normalcy, and even his criticisms feel deserved. I know I fucked up, and I want to be better. I've never wanted to be better for someone else, before.
He chuckles, and the sound fills me with a warm fondness.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
“Be back soon,” he says.
I can’t think of what to say, so I just shut the door after him as he saunters down the hall.
I lightly thump my head on the door.
Shit.