Joe got up, stretched, and began to pack up. He returned the stool to the craftsman who had lent it to Rhiley for the day and grabbed his pack. There were still quite a few villagers hovering around the edge of the green, but between them and him stood the giantess, standing like a monolith with arms crossed. Joe had planned to thank Gurda for her intervention already, but it was clear she was waiting for him. Her commanding presence was keeping the others at bay.
“Hello Missus Eldauk. I want to thank you for saving me from Sir Groven. That would have gone much worse for me if you and the others had not gotten involved.”
“I did warn you, young man,” the giantess scolded. “I do not know where you are from, but around here, the nobility are not to be trifled with. They have heritage traits and allegiance experience chains that give them huge boosts to their levels and abilities. A child of a noble house is often stronger than anyone else in an entire village. Some of those children are true terrors: incredible strength and very little restraint. Thankfully, the Amberwroth children are grown and are abroad.”
“Yeah, I messed up. Don’t have the social reflexes you guys do regarding nobility yet.,” he replied, annoyed at himself for his lapse of focus and the blunder it created. Still, by dumb luck, he gained something from it. Looking at the tattoo on his arm brought Gurda's attention to the mark. Her eyes grew wide. “Do you know what it means?” he asked.
“Not exactly, but I have seen such a mark before. The star-filled ink is unmistakable. When I was a young lady, I saw the war hero Jamac Rukaloo. My family was in Falconspire, the capital of Duskurg. He was riding in a chariot, shirtless, waving at the crowd, showing off his powerful build and making us young girls swoon,” she remarked with a far-off smile on her lips.
“Over his heart, he had a tattoo like yours, though his was far larger. It, too, was etched with ink made of stars and night. It was in the shape of a shield with wings over it and the number seven. It is said that ever since he received that symbol, Jamac became the strongest man in all of Illuminaria.”
Her gray eyes locked onto Joe’s. "I wonder what greatness your mark will bring you,” the jotun mused.
“I got my mark from getting curb-stomped. I’m not sure I want to be the world's greatest punching bag.” Joe muttered, thinking of the achievement that had come with the blow that had killed him.
Joe looked down, scuffing his foot through the grass in embarrassment, only to have a large hand slip under his chin and lift it back up to reconnect their gazes.
“I do not think the One Above gives such marks to those without great potential. I think many surprises will come from your life, Joe Healer,” the giantess stated with a stern conviction.
Joe had a hard time meeting her eyes.
Changing the subject, he asked, “Can you tell me about the One Above?”
“That is a difficult question even for a native of Illuminaria,” she stated, releasing his chin. “We know she is not a god, but, in many ways, she is as great or greater than the gods. I have heard her called the ‘Sentience of Reality,’ and that term fits as well as any other.”
“That is pretty good. It matches what I have seen so far, too,” Joe confirmed before questioning one aspect of her explanation. “Her? The One Above is female?” Joe had not gotten that impression in his conversations with Hawking.
“No, but that is how she feels to me. I know my brothers refer to the Giver of Fates as ‘He.’ I think each person feels the presence of the One Above in their own way.”
That made sense to Joe as Hawking felt male to him. A cold, clinical one, but still male. “So is she, he, a god?”
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“No. The One Above has no demands of us and will not allow churches or causes to be created in her name. She merely seeks to catalog and inform us of our growth and encourage us to greater strengths with quests and rewards. I think most people secretly hold her in some reverence, but it is not something we say out loud, as the One Above does not wish to be venerated.”
“But there are gods here too.”
“There are, but most of the gods are distant things, not as active as the One Above. They may give boons to individuals or to communities. Sometimes, they will answer prayers or not at their whim. One should never count on their gifts. There are a few classes that increase that connection between mortal and immortal. They are the exceptions that can rely on their aid.”
“Do they ever speak to people?”
“Those whose class is bound to a god, yes. Otherwise, such a divine connection is very rare.”
Gurda looked towards the edge of the town commons as she spoke. If anything, more villagers had gathered there in the last few minutes. Joe had so many more questions but could tell that Gurda was itching to go and speak with her waiting neighbors. The town leader had gotten the scoop on what would surely be the news of the day and wanted to capitalize on it. Such a power move, very much fitting the domineering woman.
Even with all the ideas in his head, it occurred to Joe that he did not have to get his answers right now. He was no longer living his remaining days on a stopwatch. As long as he did not pull any more bonehead moves as he had with ‘Grover,’ he had all the time in the world. This thought brought a smile to his face. Joe put the rest of his questions aside and focused on the here and now.
“I’m heading back to the Dellham’s for dinner. Do you have any suggestions as to what I can bring? I’d like the gift to be part thank you, as well as a fitting addition to the meal.”
“Well, if I know Sarsa, I would guess she will make her famous meat pies and apple cobbler. If she is still too ill to cook, then Neela will likely grill a chicken and bake a pie. In either case, how about a jar of chutney from TideTern? It will complement either meal, and the colorful glazing on the jars makes them a pleasant gift. There are several jars on the counter by the front door. They cost two silvers. The door is still unlocked if you would like to get one.”
“You are really good at this. Gift-giving was never my strong suit. Thank you again,” Joe said with the utmost sincerity, putting a pair of silver coins in her hand.
He was still dubious about letting Gurda manage his healing career, but she was generous with her time and help. Joe waved and trotted over to the general store. It was obvious which jars she meant. He picked the one he liked the colors of best. It had swirls of blue and green with a yellow band around the neck of the jar. It made Joe think of the sun over a lake, much like the one he had swam in just that morning.
He waved to the knot of villagers, and he left the store and received many back. Their smiles made him feel good about his day in Crowfield. Many of the folks around Missus Eldauk had been either treated by him or seemed close to someone he had helped. He was starting to see that maybe his class could be as rewarding as the explorer-type he would have picked on his own.
The walk was not too far, and the evening was pleasantly cool. Even so, about halfway there, Joe was starting to feel the toll of the most unbelievable day of his life. Life, death, rebirth, magic, assault, blessings. All in a handful of hours.
Joe found his footsteps trudging forward in a shuffling slog. He was both elated and exhausted. The elation was carrying him onward, but he realized he might be able to counter the exhaustion. He cast his newest skill.
You have increased your maximum stamina to 105%.
Your skill [Efferous Endurance] has increased to rank 1.
An almost electric burst of energy washed through his body. Joe straightened up fully, rolling his shoulders and settling the pack squarely on his back once again. Where it had felt like the backpack had been dragging him down a second ago, it now was a negligible load.
‘Woah! This must be what a shot of adrenaline feels like,’ he thought.
He tried to roll his staff over the back of his hand, but while he had the gumption for the trick, his dexterity was not there yet. He sheepishly retrieved the quarterstaff from the weeds beside the road, promising himself he would practice that move tomorrow.
Staff in hand, he picked up the pace and began jogging down the country road leading to the Dellham’s farm.
Bursting with both energy and joy, Joe couldn’t contain the exuberance he was feeling any longer. Letting the revelry of this new existence run wild, his jog turned into a goofy bouncing dance along the rutted road, while silly songs by the Dollyrots songs played loudly in his head.