Springelle 33, 1995 [E.o.S (7)]
9:36 NV
I squirmed, desperately trying to wiggle out of the bear trap I’d been caught in, my poor rickety bed squeaking in protest. The pincers held tight around my neck, cutting off my air supply. A soft scent of strawberries wafted around my bedroom.
“Ugh, Mom! I’ve been up for like ten minutes already! I love you too, and I’m happy to see you, but can you please stop choking me out now? I still gotta breathe too you know.”
Dad let out a bark of a laugh from the other side of my barely closet sized bedroom. “Hah! Kiddo, you know your mother better than that,” He remarked, pushing up his dark rimmed glasses while scratching at his well trimmed goatee. Bastard. Out of all of the genes I’d actually really wanted, the facial hair gene was the one I didn’t get. Ever since I hit puberty, I’ve never been able to forgive him for that. “You’re lucky this is all you gotta put up with. She’s been going out of her mind these last ten days waiting for you to wake up.”
Mom pushed back from me, fixing my dad with a fierce ‘Mom-Stare’. “Yes, thank you dear. You know, I don’t think its unreasonable to be worried when your only child comes back from his Trial of Blessing in a coma!” I flinched at the crack in her voice. I bet she’d spent every day and night in here, unable to relax at all.
Dad raised his hands in mock surrender. “Woah there honey, you know I agree with you. I was just making sure he knew.” He winked and blew her a kiss. “Love ya.”
For all she wanted to be mad, Mom blushed, her full lips ticking up into a smile. “Yeah, whatever. You’re just saying that so you don’t get in trouble.”
She turned back to me, smoothing out the wrinkles in her blouse. It was a simple cream color, with a motley assortment of patches and mends that Mom had made to it over the years. “Think about it from my point of view for a second. Your kid goes off to the Trial of Blessing. You know they just may not come back. Just like that, gone forever. So you worry allllll day long, every second of every minute thinking ‘What are they doing right now? Have they slipped up? Are they coming home?’ Then you hear that knock at the door. You rush to it, throwing to the door open to find your child lying there on your doorstep, unconscious.”
Mom spoke fast, talking with her hands as much as with her mouth. She did that whenever she got particularly into something. “So now you think ‘A: They’re alive, good. B: Sometimes when people get a strong Blessing, they pass out and His Majesty teleports them home. So, everything’s good.’ Well, not good, but at least there's precedent. You bring your kid inside and wait for them to wake up. Then they don’t wake up. The first night isn’t so bad. You go to bed hoping that they’ll wake up along with everyone else in the morning. They don’t. Or the next morning. Or the next. I don’t care if His Majesty Himself had shown up carrying you and told us it would take that long. How could I not be worried sick?”
Well, that was fair. If I was in Mom’s shoes I’d have been pulling my hair out too. I leaned forward and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Okay, okay. I guess I can cut you some slack for worrying this time. Thanks, Mom.”
She happily reciprocated, squeezing me tightly, burying her face into my shoulder.
Okay, we were definitely the same height before I woke up. How much about me changed?
“See? Its not that hard to just let Mom do her Mom thing, and then we can move on.” And thats just what she did, holding me for another minute before squeezing as hard as she could (Harder than you’d think for someone her size) and letting go. “Okay, all done. Now we can move on. So! Tell us how the Trial went!”
The air in the room immediately brightened, Mom and Dad lighting up with big smiles. Dad walked over, placing his hands on Mom’s shoulders and passively massaging them. His crystal clear, water blue eyes twinkled with excitement, and stood out against the sun kissed color of his face. “Right! The downside of you being conked the hell out for ten days was that it was scary as shit.”
Mom looked up at him and tsk’d. “Honey, language please.”
Dad chuffed a bit, nodding his head. “You got it dear, sorry. Anyway, seeing you in an honest to Godking coma was scary as shirt.” He winked at Mom, who rolled her eyes. “Buuut, on the plus side, that also tells us that at the very least, you had to have gotten a good score. So what’s the news?”
“What’s the news? Oh, do I have a story for you guys.” I rubbed my hands together gleefully before launching into what happened at the Trial. The fights, the puzzles, the ‘how I suck at puzzles’ bit, all the way up to the imp fight. Well, imp murder. Heh, that was a lot of fun.
Mom and Dad both cheered as I described how I crushed the neck of the imp. Dad pumped his fist and quirked an eyebrow at me. “So what, is that a B+? Maybe even an A? I mean, you took like, two hits during the whole Trial. That’s got to be worth something.”
I shook my head. “No. Well, not exactly.”
I explained how the voice of His Majesty had called to me, explained the whole ‘B is the max a Mundane can get’, all that good stuff. Mom seemed particularly incensed by that.
“Now that just doesn’t seem fair to me! You didn’t ask to take the easy test! And you know, hearing how you aced it, I bet you would have done just fine on the Adjusted version.”
Dad shook his head though, dark shaggy hair swinging in front of his face. “No, I think that’s plenty fair. Sure, Emmanuel may have beaten it,” He nudged mom gently in the side with his elbow, “But we both know he’s a bit special, huh? Especially considering most Trial-goers are newly turned fifteen year olds, not twenty year olds who kept living with their parents to get free board while training for an extra five years. Not, you know, working a job like his poor parents.”
She giggled and slapped him on the shoulder, “Oh be nice!”
Dad winked at me. I had to fight to keep from smiling as I gave him the stalest face I could. “Yeah, well, when I’m the greatest adventurer in the world and you guys are all old, we’ll see who needs free board then.”
Dad put the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically, mock horror written on his face. “Gasp! And after all we’ve done for you? Our most precious child, he who we’ve sacrificed everything for?”
I opened my mouth and closed it again, at a loss for a comeback. After ten seconds had passed without anything, I just sighed and threw my hands up in defeat. “Yeah yeah, we all know I’ll take care of you two.”
“Yep, that’s what I thought kiddo, point for Dad!”
We all laughed at that, then I moved the conversation on to the special test, and what His Majesty expected me to do. Aka; The Tobis fight. Now I had a decision to make here. I could tell them everything, including how I fucking died, met the Mysterious Voice, came back to life, then became Chosen.
But I wasn’t sure that was the best idea. First of all; if there’s one thing in the entire world that would make Mom just absolutely flip her complete shit, it would be me telling her I fucking died. That would NOT be pretty. Secondly; I just don’t think anyone should know I’m the Chosen.
I mean, I know what being the Chosen is worth. If you have the Chosen on your side, that’s literally like the biggest card you can possibly play. And I know exactly what will happen if the wrong people (Aka:Any old noble asshole) find out that its me. First: Try and recruit me the nice way. Gifts, bribes, seductions, favors. Then, when that inevitably fails—because fuck ‘em—it will be time for step two: The not so nice way. Hundreds of those ways available, mind you. All sorts of nefarious shit.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Yeah, I think it’d be better for no one to know that I was the Chosen, especially Mom and Dad.
So I told them a slightly condensed version, where I most definitely did not die, and just ended up bombing Tobis in the face after the first round. The conversation I had with King Sam in this version cut out all of the extra, friendly chit-chat too. Just the Godking giving an S rank to a Mundane who’d worked his goddamn ass off for it.
When I told them I got an S, Mom and Dad screamed. Not ‘yelled in surprise.’ Not ‘shouted in joy.’ No, they screamed.
“OH MY GOD!!!!” Mom’s hands shot in front of her mouth, tears budding in the corners of her eyes.
“WHAT? WHAT!?!?” Dad rocketed into the air in excitement, cracking his head on the low ceiling of my bedroom. “Shit!” He landed, clutching at his head for only a second before shaking it off and leaping at me for a hug.
Mom was already on it, tackling me but a moment before Dad landed.
*Whoomp* “Oof!”
*WHOOMP!* “Oww!”
*CRASH!*
I like my bed. Had it since I was ten. Its got my shape imprinted into it and everything.
Mom’s……uhm……how should I say this, ‘not unsubstantial’. Dad always called her condensed sweetness, if that tells you anything. She hit the bed like a wrecking ball. Then Dad sealed the deal, his 6’5, 195lbs mass crashing down like a rogue asteroid.
Poor thing collapsed like a house of cards. Mom and Dad were dogpiled on me, just laughing their asses off.
“Aww come on guys! You broke my damn bed!”
Dad waved that off as he got up, pulling Mom and me to our feet. “Whatever! It’ll take me less than ten minutes to fix.”
Mom reached up to grab my face, something she definitely did not have to do before the Trial. “Emmanuel, honey, are you serious? You’re not joking, right? This would not be an appropriate thing to joke about.”
I scoffed at her, actually a little offended. “Come on Mom, I know that."
Behind Mom I could see Dad doing a double fist pump, practically squealing with joy. “Haha! Oh, our son, the S Ranker! Sorry for the language honey, but that’s just so fucking great.” Dad’s laugh lines came out in full force, his smile splitting his face wide open. “Man, the only thing that could have been better is if His Majesty had made you the new Chosen. Aha!”
Mom looked at him like he’d just won a gold medal for stupid. “Noel, are you kidding me? Gracious knows I worry enough about him already. I don’t need any of that extra crap that comes with being Mom of the Chosen, oh no! We all remember reading the stories about the Chosen together at bedtime, right?”
Everyone nodded.
“Right. And what’s the one thing those stories all have in common?”
Dad and I looked at each, slightly confused. I answered first. “Uh, death defying battles? Heroic acts of sacrifice?”
Dad raised a finger, chiming in. “Impossible odds? Timeless bonds forged between party members in the fire of a grand adventure?”
Mom pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “That’s what I expected from you boys. No. Well, I mean yes, but no, not what I was talking about. What I’m talking about is the mysterious absence of family members.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her. “What does that mean? The Chosen had families.”
“Yes, but did they have complete families?” Think about it, huh? How many Chosen had families where someone wasn’t dead? Because from what I remember, there were only a few options. Mom/Dead Dad. Dad/Dead Mom. Siblings/Dead Parents. And my ‘favorite’: Everyone’s dead.” Mom retorted, counting off on her fingers. Her eyebrows wiggled questioningly. “Am I wrong?”
“Lets see……” Dad said, mumbling under his breath for several seconds, names of various past Chosen spilling out. “Lazinthir, Hrutvein, Raguile……” Then his eyes flicked back up to me and Mom. “Nope, she’s right. Not one Chosen had all their direct family members alive.”
Mom crossed her arms triumphantly, a smug smile on her face. “Hmmph, exactly! And we certainly don’t need that kind of bad juju hanging over our heads, right?”
She turned to me. “Besides, its not like Emmanuel to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
I smiled warmly. “No, yeah of course! I almost pissed myself as is when He said I got an S. Anymore and, well that might’ve ended puh-retty embarrassing.”
Yeah, so that answers that question. No telling Mom I’m the Chosen. Also! Bit concerning that no Chosen’s ever had both parents living at the same time. I’d really have to talk to King Sam about that. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my folks. Probably go batshit crazy.
Dad chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t even blame you if you had son. Now, is there anything else we should talk about, or should we just leave you to get ready for your first day as a brand new man?”
“No, I think that pretty much covered everything. I just need to get dressed. Then I need to go get a Journal so I can check my stats and everything.”
Mom moved to stand by Dad, leaning forward and giving me a peck on the cheek. “Alright dear. We’ll be out in the kitchen, let’s talk about what you want to do next when you’re ready.”
I gave my parents a double thumbs up, and they shuffled on out of my bedroom, finally giving me some privacy.
“Phewwwwww!”
Now that Mom and Dad were gone, it was finally time to check out my new bod.
It was odd, suddenly being taller. I only had a couple of things in my room, you know? Creaky old bed, creaky old dresser, and a rusty old standing mirror. But I was looking at everything through a whole new angle, literally, and that almost made it seem like a whole new room. It’d definitely take some getting used to.
I fluidly stripped out of the pajamas I’d been wearing (I guess someone dressed me while I was passed out?) and strode over to the mirror.
“Well hello there!”
What looked at me was not the Emmanuel Burroughs I knew and loved. Now, mind you, I did like the way that I had looked. But I won’t pretend that I was peak of attractiveness. Under average height, with a little bit of chub I never could burn off. Seven out of ten at best, mostly made up by my natural charisma and roguish charm. Hah.
The new and improved Emmanuel? Different story entirely. King Sam had given me an instant eight pack, which was honestly sick. I’d just kinda given up on that. The extra few inches in height I had made my frame significantly larger, and I looked a hell of a lot more imposing.
Plus, my frame wasn’t the only thing that got bigger, if you know what I mean haha! Finger-guns.
Even my hair and eye color changed slightly. They’d both been dark brown before, the color of moist, freshly tilled earth. Now, they were much lighter brown, flecked with streaks of soft yellow.
Much more aesthetically interesting, was the brand new set of body markings I had. Very faintly, from the tips of my toes to the tips of my fingers, all the way up to my cheeks, lightning bolts ran over my body. Not big blocky thunderbolt lightning either. No, this was true lightning, branching and jagged, hundreds of strikes scrawling across my skin. They were all a grey outline, like a tattoo that hadn’t been colored in yet.
I stood there for a good five minutes, just flexing and checking it out, seeing how I felt about the markings. Honestly, I know some people might be upset, just waking up with what is technically full body scaring. But I fucking love these. I mean, talk about personal style, right? No one’s gonna be able to rip this off.
All in all Emmanuel 2.0 gets a ten outta ten.
Alrighty then, time to get prepared to leave! Let’s see here……I need to dress and pack, and then I should be good to go.
With another couple of steps, I bounced over to my dresser and rifled through my clothes, looking for a few appropriate sets of clothing.
Thankfully, my gear was right wear it should have been, and everything looked great. Boots, pants, gauntlets, all of it. You couldn’t even tell that everything had been burnt to cinders. I guess I had to thank King Sam for that later. It was even resized for my new height.
I put all my light armor on, but left my gauntlets off. When I wasn’t actively fighting or in danger, those stayed off. Otherwise, it made it a bit tough to do anything super dexterous. I strapped them horizontally on my back, using a special clip that Ferrous had made to keep them stable. When I needed them, all I had to do was put my hands in them, clench my fingers, then pull them out and do up the clasps. Easy peasy. Dude’s a genius.
For my other clothes, it was just a couple sets of pajamas, seven pair of underwear, and a miscellaneous selection of socks. I didn’t have any other day time clothes. My gear was all I needed for being outside, I cleaned it everyday at home, and planned on using the Repair skill on the road to keep it clean and in top condition. Yeah, not a whole ton of variety, but it was practical, and made for easy travel. As far as nice clothes went, we just couldn’t afford those.
It looked like my bag still had everything I hadn’t used it in, which was nice. Meant I didn’t have to repack all my supplies. Once I packed up my clothes, I was ready to go.
I put my pack on and turned towards the door.
Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light in front of me, like someone’d just thrown a flash bomb.
“Ah!” I yelped, crossing my arms in front of my eyes to shield them.
*Bwewewewewo*
There was a reverberating buzz, then a very solid *THUNK* on the floor. The light faded a second afterward, and when I puled my arms away from my face, there was a massive book in front of me with a golden envelope sitting on top of it. The back of the envelope- a soft satin gold piece of paper- was embossed with the seal of the Godking, two back-to-back roaring lion heads surrounded by a crimson inferno that was laced with royal purple flames. I’d never seen it firsthand before, but everyone in Terralane learned from a young age to recognize it.
The front of the envelope read ‘READ ME FIRST’ in bold black letters.
So that’s what I did.