Paolo had froze in the middle of a spar and Sophia immediately took the opportunity to strike.
No reaction.
Paolo was now grinning like a fool, completely unresponsive.
'Did I finally break him? Is that even a thing? I have been pushing his every button for a week straight but never hurt him. He never complained. So what the hell is going on?'
Just to be sure, she tentatively nudged him in the ribs.
His body flinch by reflex but his face was that of a junkie after a fix.
'Nope. I refuse to take responsibility for it. He is sound of body. I gave him plenty of breaks and occasions to verbalize his feelings. I'm not responsible for this catatonic slug.' She tried hard to convince herself, walking in a circle.
And then, as if nothing happened, he woke up with a start and exclaimed:
"Oh yeah! I just got another boon."
That explained things but made her immediately concerned. If she was rewarded at random times by the system and ended up like this in the middle of a fight, it was the end of her.
"You don't look happy?" He observed, uncertain.
"I'm freaked out, you klutz. We were in the middle of the fight and you woke up on the floor. If I were an enemy, you would be dead."
"Oh... maybe I should have delayed taking it." He suddenly eureka-ed as if it were not the obvious thing to do.
"What possessed you NOT to take the safest option available to you?" She asked, almost trembling with rage.
"Errr... I just got that boon... and I wanted to surprise you?" He admitted sheepishly.
"It worked." She replied bitterly and turned around toward the library, "Sparring is over for the day."
"So... you are mad?" He asked tentatively.
"You think?" She turned once again to face him and snapped. "Yes, I'm MAD, Paolo. You... idiot. I don't even care what boon you got. I just so badly want to kick you. You can't possibly imagine."
"Oh..." He exclaimed.
'Yes, 'Oh'' She snorted internally.
"I will give you some space." He finally said and went straight to the kitchen.
She was the one who got scared and he was the one doing comfort eating. And he got a new boon before her! How unfair was that? She was putting the extra effort and he was merely around for the ride! Or was it that she pushed him so hard out of his comfort zone, something he was incapable of doing in return, not for the lack of trying, mind you.
When shocking grasp had proven not strong enough, she had lent him one of her daggers and instructed him to channel his cantrip through the blade. The electricity hitting her at the focal point of the blade connecting with her body had been the WORST. She had been stunned, then paralyzed, and finally plagued with spams, for three hours. And while it was impractical for training, she had promised herself Paolo would not leave the protection of the rest area without one of her blades or something equivalent.
She had sparred against him with any possible disadvantage she could think of: wet, weaponless, blindfolded, overburdened... she even applied grease under her boots to simulate difficult terrain. And those had been quite the challenge and yet, not enough apparently.
But mostly, she was mad, not because she was jealous or infuriated at his terminal stupidity but because she had been worried and afraid and hated that feeling. He was a freaking STRANGER she barely knew, someone she took PITY on and would NOT have given a damn had she met him at school. So why on earth did she care?
So she buried herself in the study of that potion that would let her know if she had any potential for Sorcery. And conveniently, all the ingredients were things that could be found in the kitchen. Things she could have bought at a grocery store back on Earth.
Not anything fancy or overly specific: salt, water, eggshells, vegetal oil, animal grease, any sort of wax, dried herbs or flowers, ashes... the list went on. If she did not know better, she would have thought the book was pulling her leg and that it was some weird recipe for DIY soap as at least two-thirds of the ingredients matched. But the recipe quantities and timings were oddly precise and also required half-a-fucking-liter of her blood.
She already had all the ingredients. She also had found an hourglass hidden behind the same shelf the book had come from. And contrary to a kitchen recipe, that one did not require any cooking. According to the book, the ingredients themselves would provoke an alchemical reaction at ambient temperature producing enough heat to self-sustain itself.
She was rather doubtful. But the recipe was what it was.
First, the water as the solvent. Then ashes by the bucket, a pinch of powdered eggshells. She was then supposed to molten a precise quantity of wax by hand and mix everything. And at this point, she would have sworn she had produced some kind of lye but that was when the funniest ingredients came in: an unreasonable quantity of salt, yeast, vinegar, and soda.
And that's when things got really weird. As expected, vinegar and soda started producing a ridiculous amount of bubbles from oxygen release. But the bubbles were immediately reabsorbed and produced an absurd amount of heat while she rushed to put all the remaining ingredients, in the right order and at the right time.
At some point, the potion had turned a nasty purple and looked ready to explode from all the bubbles and heat. And that was when she was supposed to prick herself to provide the half liter of fresh blood the potion required.
But she needed no further encouragement and did as instructed.
She had proof of concept that the potion was doing what the book said it should. Her small wound should already have coagulate but she kept bleeding until the potion got enough. And then, the potion changed color to an ominous green.
Chaos or Feywild blood magic. That was the verdict according to the book.
Great Old One blood should stay ominous purple. Mechanous blood was silvery metallic. Divine blood was pearlescent white. Draconic blood was fiery red. Lunar blood was multicolored. Shadow blood was pitch black. Storm blood was lightning blue. And there were many other colors or variants of the existing ones, like Demonic Blood, Elemental Blood, and so on.
In her case, green being the color of Feywild, she had to check she had not inherited something specific like Hag blood or something equally nasty. But all in all, it was pretty disappointing. Feywild magic was the least reliable magic and the second to last worst option she could have had. She had dodged the bullet of demonic blood but still.
Now that the test was done, she was fairly certain she did not want to brew the second potion to awaken her dormant bloodline. Being a freaking time bomb and danger zone for herself and everyone around was not within her plans and not a price she was willing to pay for power. It might still awaken accidentally on its own.
At least, now she knew she was screwed, that she had something really nasty in her blood and that she was definitely going to scratch Sorcery off her list.
"What's next then?" She thought.
She knew the magus route was a thing but she had yet to find a single book on the subject. Which left Arcanist or Warlock.
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Self-teaching her way to arcane magic was a huge ordeal but was still plausible. She did not know if appealing to the goddess of magic thereafter was mandatory or merely recommended, but it seemed both undesirable and completely out of reach. As for Warlock, it was just straight-out undesirable. Most 'patrons' willing to empower mortals through contracts were Capital EVIL.
The devils wanted you to fight in their wars AND your soul AND to destroy every world they could. The Great Old Ones and Exteriors gnawed at your sanity AND wanted to conquer the universe. The Archfey and other Feywilds tricked you into centuries of service AND wanted to rewrite the entire reality to look like their chaotic home dimension. You had to be dying a premature death to even get the attention of the Shadowfell, no summoning circle needed, but they would rip you off in exchange for saving your life. And if you were unlucky enough to get the attention of an entity from the Elemental plane you better be ready to become one with their elements, mind, body, and soul. Finally, the Gods themselves as well as their envoys would never enter into a contract with a mortal unless they were evil, chaotic-and-bored, dying, or imprisoned.
All in all, no patrons would ever grant powers out of the goodness of their hearts. And according to the system, even theoretically good patrons had unreasonable, borderline demands that confined to the absurd like "Free me from my divine prison" or "Avenge my death: kill that other god."
So... yeah. The sorcerer route turned out to be a trap. Arcanist was hard to get. Magus was unavailable. And Warlock was NOT RECOMMENDED.
She stared at the now cold potion, which had turned back to normal, dirty transparent, took it, and laboriously made her way to empty it down the toilets. Only to be met with the disapproving stare of a very sleepy Palolo:
"So you did it anyway?" He asked, rhetorically, looking pained.
"I had to know." She justified herself, "I have a Feywild dormant bloodline. I'm not going awaken it."
And she saw disappointment and relief painted all over his face.
"You realized you were mad at me for the exact same reason, right?" He finally said, looking tired rather than mad.
"But you are not." She pointed out the obvious.
"But I'm not." He confirmed before shrugging and going back to sleep.
★☆★
"So you still haven't given up on getting magic?" Paolo greeted her as they met in the library.
"Nope." She responded.
"It's battle magic, if you were wondering." He finally said.
She made a hand sign to elaborate but did not look up from her book.
"I'm a battlemage now. It's my secondary Archetype. A melee spellcaster specialist."
She clenched a little harder on her book cover but said nothing. She should be happy for his success. She was not. She should not be jealous, bitter and so desperately selfish. But she was.
"Please say something." He begged her.
And so she snapped:
"Congratulations. You got what you need to survive on your own. One extra week of training and you could probably breeze through the lower floors until you found a team to adopt you." She said sarcastically. "Meanwhile, I have made little to no progress and I'm stuck here indefinitely until I make an unlikely breakthrough or decide I had enough and do something terminally stupid."
"Is it that bad that you don't have magic?" You tried to reason with her.
And so she replied, cold and calculating, the absolute voice of reason:
"11%. Those were my odds upon entering the tutorial as a Rogue. Yours were 3%. That's why I helped you. I don't know the exact number right now, but even if I can still beat the crap out of you, your odds should now be significantly better than mine."
"Survival. That's all you care about after all" He stated matter-of-factly.
"My brain was rewired to prioritize survival above all else. That's literally what the starting Rogue boon do." She justified herself. "What did you expect?"
"I don't know." He shrugged before nonchalantly taking a paper from his Robe and putting it on the desk, right in front of her. "A custom Warlock contract summoning ritual I had been working on for you, just in case. Pay attention this one time and I will get out of your hair, permanently, if that's what you wish."
She did not comment and let him show her the fruits of his hard work.
"I added some extra layers to it. This one is Protection from Infernal. This one is Protection from Aberration. This one is Protection from Evil. Those three are standard but I added two for extra safety. Protection from Undead. And Protection against the Chains ensures that none of the above can try to contract you by proxy. A lot of Warlocks got caught by that one.
The next one is Dispell Curse, pretty self-explanatory. Nature Ward won't protect you from anything determined enough but the Feywild don't like it. And finally, Protection from Corruption, just to ensure something strong enough have a hard time tearing down your protections. If I got this one right, only Celestials and 'small-time' neutral powers should be able to answer your call.
Still, even with all those safeties, I would advise you not to. Sooner or later, you are going to regret it. But I thought that if I could not prevent it, I could at least try to help you get the best deal you can."
That was an eight-ring protection around the summoning circle required for the ritual. An overkill by any standard but Paolo was right: The standard recommended protection was not nearly enough as he had just demonstrated.
"I'm past trying to convince you not to do something stupid. So please, promise me you will use that one instead of whatever you had in mind."
She nodded. It was an easy promise. This one time, Paolo had grossly overestimated her capabilities. She had barely even started researching the subject. If anything, he had empowered her, nudging her in a direction she previously considered a last resort, something she had postponed for weeks from now.
But yes, she was convinced that this absurdly complicated modified ritual should work. She was still taking it with a grain of salt. Double-checking never hurts. But it was indubitably better than whatever she might have come up with on her own.
"Thanks." She finally replied. "I would let you know if I ever come to it. But I'm not nearly that desperate."
"Yet." He completed her sentences before arguing: "And please don't, warn me in advance, that is. I prefer not to know if some angry, possibly murderous entities with power behind my comprehension are being held hostage in a ritual circle right next door from our communal bedroom."
She nodded. It was an oddly specific, disturbing, but valid reason.
Afterall, while the ritual was not meant to trap one's future patron within, nothing she had read so far contradicted that version either. A wannabe Warlock who wanted some power and was unlikely to release the trapped entity until the bargain was done. Supposing the entity was held against their will in the first place. Maybe that was yet another possible alley of improvement for the ritual, ensuring none but willing entities could pass through?
She shrugged to herself, only to realize Paolo was long gone. It was probably for the better.
He would not have liked to know what she had been currently searching for.
★☆★
Battlemage was one nasty Archetype. That much was for sure.
Over time, Paolo's muscles had gained some definition. His balance and footwork were now quite impressive too. He could also now put his longstrider spell to good use. And if he pulled his full magical might behind it, while also wielding the knife she had lent him, she was now fairly certain that Paolo could win any fight by frying his opponent's brain.
Yet, despite the increased challenge, the sparing did not bear any fruit for her. And so she had tried to double down on Archery and Magic. It took her some time to realize that accuracy was not all there was to Archery.
Her speed and mobility were just as important. Afterall, her opponents were moving targets. So why should she make her opponent's job easier by standing still? But accurately shooting multiple arrows in quick succession while moving around, dodging, and taking cover? That was the next level entirely.
Fortunately, Paolo was always eager, throwing things in the air for her to shoot, throwing things at her for her to dodge, or charging at her while she was trying to take down her assigned targets. It was yet not nearly enough to get herself a boon. But she kept telling herself that she was 'just' that close to making it, so she couldn't give up.
They had not talked about magic since then. She knew he was still searching for new spells to learn in the library. But he had gotten around the idea that aside from theoretical knowledge and rituals, he had little chance to stumble upon anything else. Spells for wizards inside the tutorial were allegedly limited to scrolls, which were exceptionally rare rewards and not given as freebies.
Yet, her self-imposed deadline was fast approaching.
Two weeks to learn a new language? Done. She had mastered basic alien long ago.
One extra week to assimilate as much magic trivia as possible? Done. She might still have much to learn but she read all the 'for Dummies' equivalent that the library contained. Which was good enough since she could not do any magic yet.
And one extra week to get used to any boon she was supposed to acquire in the last three weeks? She had none. But that last week was already on the horizon and she had nothing to show for her efforts.
And she knew that Paolo's morbid anticipation was building up.
Every morning, he was somewhat pleasantly surprised that she had not gone through with it already. And he never dared mention leaving the rest area although he had been more than ready. Probably for fear that she would go through with it because of his prompting.
But she had not forgotten and she had been ready, for days now.
She had improved the ritual even further. She had double-checked and triple-checked everything. At that point, she had refined that ritual to such an absurd degree that she was not certain the summoning circle would summon anything at all from the sheer restrictions applied to it.
Essentially, it would be as if she would be hanging signs from the heavens to the nine hells saying: "Wannabe witch search a harmless benevolent patron to grant me a significant portion of their meager power."
Yep. What were the odds of that ever bearing fruits?