My return to the waking world comes with a bright flash of sunlight accompanied by the rustling of leaves and smell of smoke. A groan escapes my maw as I stand up. I look around and find myself directly outside the cave I’d recently exited.

“Comrade Quasi, is you, yes?”

I turn around to find Boriss, Cillian, and Irmgard sitting together around a campfire.

That explains the smell of smoke.

I nod and walk towards the three.

I must have been out for rather long if they’ve already got a campfire burning.

“Looks like you haven't been able to change back.” Cillian says at my arrival.

Yea, I know. You don't need to remind me.

“Is fine. Little change.” Boriss exclaims.

Cillian rolls his eyes.

“Anyway, we’ve been talking about our new, uhh, classes we got. Apparently this world is like a videogame.”

“Da. Is fun, yes?” Boriss points at himself, “Boriss is [Skirmisher]. Little ball say is rare class.”

Little ball… oh, they probably didn't have a goddess and instead had something else.

“I chose the class [Sword Officer].” Irmgard announces.

“And I chose [Merchant].”

Really? [Merchant]?

“Yea, yea. Boriss gave me the same look. Here's the thing, of the three classes offered, none were for combat. Considering [Trader] sounded basic and [Accountant] doesn’t sound useful. I’m left with [Merchant].”

Ok. So they ALL were given choices and allowed to choose. Bastards.

Irmgard clears her throat. “Since we’ve all shared our classes with each other, it would be only proper for you to share yours.” She points at the ground under my feet. “Just use a claw to write it out since you can't speak.”

I could do that… or, I could demonstrate it instead. Now, how do I activate shift? Do I just think about transforming into a cat?

With just a thought, a floating box arrives in front of my vision.

[Shift] - (Baby-Mimicus)

Activation Cost: 58 Mana

Sustain: 0.543 Mana/Minute

Would You like to activate this skill?

Um, yes?

The moment the thought leaves my mind, my body instantly grows warm. I feel energy churning throughout my body. It moves rapidly, seemingly resonating and forming into a complicated matrix. I try to ascertain the structure and memorize the movement, but it is far too complicated and complex. The moment the matrix is completed, my vision disappears and is quickly shifted downward. Then, all at once, I feel my new body.

“Huh, it worked.” My eyes widen. “Oh shit, I can talk.”

“Holy shite you’re a fuckin talking cat.” Cillian exclaims.

“Da,” Boriss nods, “tiny kitten. Is nice rat killer.”

I ignore the two and focus on testing my new limbs. Which isn't too complicated. I’m effectively a housecat with the full human vocal range.

“Alright,” I say aloud, “My class is [Shifter]. And as you can see, I gained a skill that lets me transform into a Mimicus- a cat that can talk.”

“Permanently?” Irmgard asks.

“Maybe? I’m not sure. If I’m regenerating mana while transformed, then yes. If not, then I’ll probably transform back. Regardless, I can talk now, so this is very helpful. Now, what are all your skills? I’m sure you’ve obtained one.”

“Da, one. Skill is [Night Vision]. I can see in dark.”

“I’ve got [Sense Rarity]. It’s supposed to let me sense the rarity of items. I’m not sure how exactly it is supposed to work.” Cillians explains.

“And I have [Boosted Control]. It boosts my control trait by ten.” Irmgard says.

So, skills are pretty simple for the most part. I wonder if the later levels will be more interesting?

“Well, thanks for sharing. I think the first order of business is to see if we can find civilization. Unless anyone here has a better idea?”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

I am met with the shaking of heads.

“Good, then I’ll climb one of these trees and see if I can see anything.”

Glancing up at all the trees, I choose one of the taller ones and walk up to it. I place my paw on the bark and release my nails. I test the bark with several scratches to make sure that I would have a firm grip.

With my test complete, I hop onto the bark with all four limbs and latch onto the side. Then, I start to climb. To facilitate my climb, I hop from branches to branches, getting higher and higher until I see something that has my mouth drop open. Far in the distance are small floating islands. Mere specs, but they are floating in the air. Looking around from my vantage, I also note that I am currently on an island surrounded by water?

I look around me and analyze the island I’m on. We are more in the outskirts of the island, with the center of it a massive dead swamp. I also notice that though it is daytime, there is no sun in the sky. It seems like the sky is just lit up with light of some kind.

Eventually, my eyes see a puff of smoke rising at the edge of the island not too far from where I am.

Seeing everything I can, I descend the tree and return back to camp.

“Alright, we’re on an island surrounded by water. I can see floating islands in the distance. The sky seems magically lit up. And, I see some distant smoke not too far from here. I say we head there and see what we can find.”

The group nods to my decision and I climb atop Boriss’s shoulder and direct them towards the smoke. Our traversal through the forest was interesting to say the least. Various alien species from single eyed camouflaged deer to snakes with twenty pairs of legs. We even had a pack of alien foxes with three tails following us and hungrily staring at me. Thankfully, my mount was an effectively intimidating presence throughout the journey.

When we finally reach our destination, night has fallen and the Harbor town is smothered in the light of torches. The town, a good five dozen wooden buildings, rests next to the shore where a dozen oddly made sailing ships are moored. Far into the distance, past the water is the sight of floating islands which look like black shapes in the night.

Even with night so prevalent, there are still many people working at the docks. All of them are human and dressed as though it is the thirteenth century.

“So, should we ask for directions or what?” Cillian asks.

“No, Da.” Irmgard and Boriss answer.

The Communist and Nazi glance at one another. Then Boriss looks at me.

“Comrade Quasi, what say you?”

I look around at the various buildings and the names plastered on them. Then I find it. The most important building that a harbor could ever have.

I raise a paw at a building with an image of a bottle at the top. “We’re going to Arbor’s Butchers to gather information.”

All eyes swerve to the building.

“That's a pub!” Cillian exclaims, excited.

“Yup. Best place to gather information is where tongues are lacking. But first, I need you and Irmgard to stay out of sight. Me and Boriss are going to get some currency to pay for it all.”

“Is that wise?” Irmgard asks. “Staying together is safer, and I would rather not risk losing you, especially since it seems like you’ve done this before.”

I wave a paw, “it is precisely that I’ve done this before that I am asking both of you to sit tight. Right now, we need to be sneaky, and I doubt either of you have stealth training.”

She frowns and crosses her arms. “Fine. You’ve guided us well, so I will accept your orders for the time being. Viel Glück.”

“Good. We’ll be back shortly. My steed!” I tap Boriss on the cheek. “Head to the port. There is money to be gained.”

_________________________________________________________________

“Ah, you must be asking about old Myron and his grandson. They stay at the Arbor’s Butchers.”

Hmm. That might be him.

I write the words Arbor’s Butchers on my booklet.

“I see. This Myron, what does he do and how long has he been here?” I ask the native.

The native scratches his beard. He is an older man, but still in peak working condition in account to the man's muscles. Which makes sense considering the man is a level 24 [Shipwright]. He probably spent all of his trait points to boost his strength and endurance.

“Well, Myron came here about three years ago with his grandson. Currently, he tutors children. A very smart man, that one. I heard that he used to be a [Merchant Captain] until he was forced to sell his ship to pay off his son's debt and free his grandson. Story goes that the son got himself into debt with the wrong people and ended up getting himself and his wife killed.”

Three years matches the timing, as does [Captains] experience. This could actually be him. If it is, I should be careful. He may be old, but the man could very well end me if I fight him alone. I’ll need to get my crew.

I write down [Merchant Captain] and three years in my notebook. Then I close it.

“Thank you, mister Lance. Your information was most useful.” I reach into my coin pouch and retrieve a single deca-trist coin and raise my hand to give it to Lance.

Before Lance can take it, a cat jumps in between us and snatches the deca-trist coin from my hand.

“Shit,” I curse. “One moment, Mr. Lance.”

I run after the cat as it runs from me. I lose sight of the cat from the darkness. I look around, and then I hear a small Meow. I follow the sound to a dark alley. In the middle of the alley is a single torch illuminating the cat and the coin at its feet. The cat curiously looks at me and tilts its head.

“Man,” I shake my head and start walking to the cat, “If I’d lost Trist to a damn cat, my [Bounty Hunter] friends would seriously lose respect for me.”

Halfway to the cat, the cat smiles at me with a conniving grin. It opens its mouth and says a word.

“Dumbass.”

___________________________________________________________________

I watch the man's eyes widen right before Boriss silently wraps an arm around the man's throat while pushing him into the ground and pinning him in such a way that he can't fight back. Which the man tries, but ultimately fails. After ten seconds of pressure on the artery, the man loses consciousness.

“Clean form, Boriss. Very clean.”

“Da,” he nods happily, “Is easier than bear.”

I snort. “Right. Anyway, grab his pouch and see if he has anything else valuable.”

My eye falls on the man's cutlass on his hip. The weapon looks rather fancy, what with the Raven hilt and all.

“Grab his cutlass too. Irmgard needs a new sword since I broke her last one.”

“Done.” Boriss exclaims. “Now we go to comrades?”

I chuckle. “The night is young, Boriss. The night is very young.”