The Number-Free Advocates, also referred to as “Advocates” or the NFA, is a political and social group loosely united around their mantra of “Multun, non Multa.” All NFA groups are united on their policy of discounting the quantity of Numbers as a measure of value, and can be recognized by their refusal to openly display their Numbers. In practice, how this practically is applied can be vastly different depending on the Advocates member. The more conservative of Advocates will only refuse to divulge their Numbers to others, while the more liberal Advocates may even work to maintain as low of Numbers as possible. Jonathan Alkid, who at age fifty had the lowest recorded total amount of Numbers, adding together to 456, was a member of the Number-Free Advocates.
- Excerpt from “The Five Numbers, 5th Edition”
Sitting around the table after our conversation, I ask the question that’s been burning on my mind.
“So...what’s next?”
At those three simple words, each of them instantly tenses. Pallas looks at the ground, Melete starts frowning, and Styx glances around hesitantly before saying slowly, “That’s something we’re undecided on still. We’re still trying to figure out what the...best...option is.”
With that, Melete bursts out, “You already think you know what the best option is! But you’re wrong! It’s obvious what we need to do!”
Unable to keep her composure, Styx retorts, “We’ve put up with your nonsense Melete in other things, and I know these last few days have been tough, but we can’t indulge your silly ideas when they put us in danger!”
“Silly ideas?! How can you even talk like that, after what I’ve seen?!?” Melete’s eyes begin to take on the haunted look once again, but Styx either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore what seems to be clear on Melete’s face.
“What YOU’VE seen?!” Styx is yelling now, tears in the corners of her eyes. “While YOU were happily humming for hours after those stupid wisps attacked, I was burying my BEST FRIEND!”
I’m staring at the two angry girls, scared to make a move, when a deep voice echoes through the cabin, “STOP!” Pallas is looking at the two of them, tears in his own eyes, as he whispers with his normal tone of voice into the once again quiet cabin, “Please, just stop.”
Seeing his face, both girls seem ashamed of their yelling and hesitantly sit back down as Pallas continues.
“Melete thinks that the apocalypse has happened, and our best bet is to hole up somewhere as far from anyone and everything we can get to. That we need to find a new place to live as soon as possible in the long term, since there’s no civilization left to retreat to.”
“Where there are people, there is danger” Melete asserts, more subdued than she was earlier, but still assertive. “This cabin is fine for now, but we need to get further from the road as soon as possible. After everything cools down in a few months, we should be good to return to cities. By then, the initial chaos will have calmed down.”
After she finishes making her point, Pallas continues. “Styx thinks that we should stay here until help comes.”
Styx has tears dripping down her cheeks now, “We’re safe here. Every time we go outside, someone dies. I --” her words cut out, as she takes a second to choke down a sob. “I don’t know if I can go out there again.”
The silence stretches for a few seconds, until I turn to Pallas. “...and what about you?”
Pallas’ voice is even more subdued than normal when he finally responds. “I don’t know. I just want to go home.”
I don’t know how to respond, and the silence in the cabin continues, morphing from the tense silence of two angry parties in a temporary truce to the silence of four sad teenagers, confused and unsure.
We’re lost. In more ways than one. We don’t know what’s going on, we don’t know what to do, and we don’t know who to turn to for guidance.
These last few days have been terrible for all of us. The worst we’ve ever experienced for so many reasons. And we’re still so far away from home. As things stand, we’ll never make it home -- something needs to change.
We’re sitting around a table, and I’m looking down at my feet, afraid to make eye contact with those around me when I glance to my arm. “Adjust: Self” is the name of my new skill, tattooed into my skin.
It’s given me something I’ve always longed for, that I’m still coming to grips with -- the ability to be different, to do something new, of value. The ability to do things others can’t do, something that is completely unique.
Even in the somber atmosphere, thinking about my skill -- and how I can modify myself in a way no one else can -- fills me with excitement. The ability to rise above, to change. That is my skill.
And that is exactly what we need right now. Change.
Clapping my hands together, I plaster a hopefully convincing smile on my face, and start talking.
“You both have good points. I don’t think it’s safe to travel anywhere -- there’s no way that the monsters we’ve seen already are all that’s out there. Just thinking statistically, that is really unlikely, for us to have run into the only monsters in this one random corner of the forest...but I don’t think waiting here for rescue is the solution either.”
“Our entire class of seventeen students has been missing for the last four days. All of our parents and the school administration know exactly where we are -- they all signed the forms that had all of the information, and I’m sure they’re all super worried about us, but we haven’t seen anyone. There haven’t been any rescue attempts. No helicopters, no forest rangers, no police driving up the road, nothing.”
I breathe in deeply, preparing myself to say what I have been refusing to admit to even myself for the last few days. “I don’t think any of our parents or the school are in any position to attempt a rescue. I think that the monsters we’ve seen the last few days are only the tip of the iceberg for what’s been going on elsewhere throughout the state, or even the world.”
Melete looks prepared to interrupt me, but I start speaking again louder before she gets the chance, “I don’t know this for sure, obviously. This is an extremely pessimistic outlook on what may have happened, and it’s definitely possible we’re completely blowing this out of proportion. But...over the last few days, every time I think I’ve gotten a handle on what’s going on, and when I think the worst has come to pass, something worse has appeared to prove me wrong. Until we know otherwise, I think it’s safest to hope for something better, but to assume the worst -- that until proved otherwise, we are on our own.”
The three of them stare at me silently for a few seconds, Melete looking satisfied, before I continue.
“But that isn’t a reason to give up completely, either. We need other people to help us survive, and other people may need us. I know each of our families and fellow classmates will be worried for us. And they may not be able to afford us giving up on them, either.”
“We need to head back to town. At the very least to confirm what we’ve seen isn’t just limited to us. But we need to be smart about it -- in everything we do, we need to first consider the worst case scenario and plan around it.”
Looking to Melete, I hold eye contact. “That will be your job Melete. We need to be prepared for whatever may happen, and you seem to have the best ideas for what that could be.” I take a deep breath before going on, “But you will need to be prepared for us to take some risks, in spite of potential dangers. Think about those other students who left you all in the woods to the wisps. We can’t always run away if we are to survive this.”
Melete looks at me for a few more seconds before nodding slowly. I turn to Styx and look at her until she finally responds.
“I guess...I can agree with that,” Styx finally responds. “What does that mean for us to do now though?”
“This cabin is amazing, and there’s no harm staying here for a few days,” I start to voice my thoughts out loud, “but we can’t stay here forever. We’ll need more food and water eventually, and I don’t think any of us have the wilderness survival skills to forage for food out here indefinitely.”
All three of them shake their heads at me in response to this statement. “We’ll eventually have to make our way back to other people. Once we have more info about what’s going on in the outside world, we can decide what to do next. Obviously, finding our families and friends is at the top of any list of priorities we have, but we have to find other people who know more about what’s going on before we can even start to do that.”
“There’s enough food in the garage here to last us for at least a week. The frozen foods will likely stay good for at least a day or two more before they all thaw.” Styx states.
“Great. I have some food stashed out in a wheelbarrow back in the woods about a hundred yards away from the cabin. I say we take all the food that we can easily pack and travel with, and find something to carry it in. Whatever’s left, we’ll eat here, but once it’s gone, we’ll leave and head down the road to go back to town.”
I’m not sure where this decisive leadership I’m displaying is coming from -- I’ve always been willing to let others take charge in the past, more comfortable with nodding along silently to whatever my parents or friends decide. But looking into the more hopeful eyes of my three classmates, nodding excitedly, clearly happy to finally have a plan, I feel the mask of confidence slip into place on my face. These people...need this. The confident leader.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
The feeling of being appreciated, of being needed, is invigorating. It isn’t who I am, and I don’t think it’s something that I’ll be able to become, either. Not quickly at least. But for these...friends, I can change. I can put on the face that they need to see, become the person that they need me to be, for as long as they need it.
I feel the spark in my chest, which first lit from the smoldering ashes of my life when finding the magic tattooed onto my right arm, burn just a bit brighter as I find purpose.
----------------------------------------
Three days have passed since our conversation around the dining table, and none of our plans have changed. We’ve packed up the foods that are able to travel easily, and we’re completely ready to go at any time. We’re planning on leaving early tomorrow morning, to make the most of the daylight and of our last night in the cabin with actual beds.
Truthfully, we could have left this morning without issue, but we have enough food to last another day, so we figured we’d make use of it. If I’m being honest, I think part of the reason we didn’t leave this morning was in the hope that some miracle would happen between then and tomorrow.
And while it’s been hard to be especially diligent in our training, the abundance of free time has been great for our Numbers. All of us have been working out or studying almost continually for the last few days, and the growth, compared to before we lost all of our Numbers, is spectacular.
I’m currently sitting at the table in the main dining area, playing chess against Styx. Neither of us are amazing, but we’ve both played before and are decent enough to be a challenge for each other. Right now the score sits at seven to six in her favor, but I’m optimistic about my chances to even up the score with this game, as I’m already two pawns up.
She stares at the board in silence, before retreating with her queen, clearly regretting being so aggressive early on. She’s spent the last two moves running away while I’m advancing across the board.
The cabin is fairly quiet as I consider my moves. Pallas is in the corner of the room reading a book he found in one of the rooms, some mystery/suspense novel that he claims isn’t as trashy as the cover makes it appear. He’ll periodically drop to the ground to pound out some pushups before returning to silently reading. Every once in a while, we can hear the sounds of Melete’s voice coming up from the basement where she’s practicing her new skill.
She had tried to convince us to let her practice in the same room as us, but after fifteen minutes and with an increasingly painful headache that made it difficult to concentrate on anything seriously, we banished her downstairs.
I couldn’t be too annoyed, as I ended up winning that game against Styx after she made a train of particularly foolish moves while Melete was singing. The faint echoes from Melete’s voice in the basement aren’t enough to cause any sort of pain and her singing is actually fairly pleasant when it isn’t causing headaches through her skill.
The quiet is broken as I ask Styx a question, one that’s been bothering me for a while, but one I’m not entirely sure will be received well.
“So, I hope this isn’t offensive or anything, but...what are your thoughts on Numbers?” She looks up at me curiously. “I mean, I know, or at least I’ve heard you’re a Number-Free Advocate, but I guess I’m not entirely sure what that means about your beliefs specifically? Everything I know about the NFA makes them seem kind of strange, I guess, but you’ve never seemed too strange to me.” I wince, as that wasn’t the most graceful way of bringing up something that might be a touchy subject.
She sighs, “Don’t worry about offending me, I’ve heard much less kind descriptions of my family for our beliefs. And to be fair, a lot of Advocates aren’t ‘normal’ by any means. But if you can, I’d ask you to not judge me too much based off of the rumors. While I’d consider myself to be a Number-free Advocate, that doesn’t mean I believe the same thing as all other Advocates, or even a majority of them.”
I stare at her in confusion. “So what is it that you believe?” Absentmindedly, i notice that Pallas has set down his book and is now also listening in to the conversation.
“I guess I could sum up my reasons for being in the NFA with the following: my Numbers don’t define me.” She lets that statement hang in the air for a few seconds, before continuing, “I value hard work, and attempting to increase the Numbers, that’s fine. Good even. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with trying to make myself better, and having a concrete tool to measure my growth is helpful with that. But it’s how society sees and uses the Numbers which I hate.”
She’s starting to pick up some momentum with her words, speaking louder and with more passion. “Every job interview, every application, every tryout, even the worth I have in the eyes of teachers, friends, and relatives, it can be boiled down to simply what are my Numbers. Who cares about experience, who cares about talents that the Numbers can’t quantify? In the end, everything just comes down to the five little tattoos my arms. And I hate it! My life can’t be boiled down to just five attributes, I don’t care about how many sub-attributes the scientists come up with and assign, the Numbers don’t govern everything in life, and I won’t let them govern my life.”
“I hate that every application I’ve ever filled out, I can’t even meet someone face to face without first giving them my Numbers. I hate that everyone would assume I’d lose to you at chess every time, just because you’ve got a higher intelligence Number than me. And I hate how society thinks that they know everything about me, just from looking at my arm! It’d be crazy to think that two students with the exact same Numbers are identical in every way, so why do we treat them as if they are?”
Styx takes a deep breath, and slows down her rushed speech. “Sorry for the rant, I just get a bit...angry about this sort of thing. And I know not everyone is that bad about their Numbers, but I’ve known so many people who are. And the only other people who are fighting against the Number-centric society are the Number-Free Advocates. So here I am.” She gestures down to the sleeve covering her left arm.
I sit in silence for a few seconds, staring at her. After a second, she blushes and looks back to the chess board. Realizing I’m making her uncomfortable by not responding, I quickly mumble out, “That makes a surprising amount of sense. I don’t know how much I agree with, but a lot of that...makes sense.” I repeat lamely.
Of course, there’s also quite a bit in her rant I disagree with too, like the idea that job applications shouldn’t look at Numbers first and foremost. Of course they should -- the Numbers are a completely objective way of comparing a person's capabilities. But I’m not foolish enough to voice any arguments out loud. There’s a time and place for debates, and fifteen seconds after Styx bares her heart onto the table is not the time, and a random cabin in the woods is not the place.
Another question strikes me, more relevant to our immediate situation. “But what about the new Numbers? We seem to be able to increase our Numbers without even having to work anymore, just by killing these monsters -- are you not going to give yourself those Numbers?”
Styx replies, “I’m honestly not sure what this will mean when it comes to how I feel about the Numbers. But I’m not stupid, of course I’m going to increase my Numbers however I can -- especially when we’re stuck lost in the woods being attacked by monsters, where a bit extra strength could save all of our lives. And even before this, I’ve never had an issue with working to increase the Numbers -- it’s only been how everyone reacts to the Numbers people have that I disagree with.”
I hum to myself, looking back to the chess board. “So how are you going to increase your Numbers, now that we seem to have the choice in how to increase them, apart from study and exercise? Assuming we get more Numbers to spend, of course. This question is for you too, Pallas.”
Pallas jumps a bit in his chair -- I don’t think he realized we noticed how closely he has been listening to the conversation.
“I haven’t really thought about it too much,” Styx begins. “I guess so far, I’ve just always increased whatever seems to be the most necessary in the moment, and haven’t put much thought into the long term.”
I nod along to this statement. It’s hard to plan for the future when death feels like it’s lurking just around the next corner.
“I mean, this is that classic hypothetical question, if you could increase any single attribute beyond everyone else, which would you choose? Which Number is the ‘best’?” I get more enthusiastic about the conversation, always enjoying hypothetical debates like these, although our current situation makes it significantly less hypothetical than ever before. “In the situation we’re in right now, it’s pretty obvious -- as useful as critical thinking and quick problem solving is, it is nowhere near as important in wilderness survival as strength and dexterity, and maybe a little charisma for the healing, especially with all these monsters walking around.”
“It’ll be kind of sad though, if our entire society gives up on increasing the mental attributes just to focus on the physical ones, only to have society be made up of idiots,” Styx jokes, and I smile in response, imagining an entire world filled with meatheads.
“I disagree,” Pallas chimes in from the corner. I look at him in surprise. Even after the last two days of living in the same room as him, I am still surprised whenever he speaks without being asked a direct question first.
“I don’t think you’re valuing how much quick decision making makes in survival, and particularly in fights. It’s not a coincidence that the intelligence and wisdom Numbers of successful professional athletes are usually significantly higher than the national average. Especially in martial arts.”
“Yeah, until they lose half their intelligence from concussions,” Styx mutters, and I stifle a chuckle.
“The point stands though. And there’s something else I think you’re forgetting -- the Skills.” Styx and I look at him in confusion before he continues. “The potential power for survival which Melete’s skill gives us in a fight is huge, especially if it keeps getting stronger at the same rate that it has been over the last few days. But outside of the improvement she gets from practicing that skill, there are other ways for it to before useful…”
“Charisma!” I exclaim, finally catching on to what he is saying. “Increasing charisma would let her project her voice better, making her skill even more dangerous.”
Pallas nods along. “Exactly. And that’s even assuming there isn’t any other correlation between any attributes and her skill beyond her being able to project her voice. And for any other skills we might get -- and I think it’s safe to expect that there are more Skills out there --” at this, he pointedly glances in my direction, “-- we can expect there are different attributes which may synergize better than others with the different skills.”
“Huh...that does make sense” Styx agrees. “But what makes you think that there will be other skills?”
At this, we all sit in an awkward silence -- at least what feels like an awkward silence to me. Finally Pallas answers quietly.
“I have a feeling. And it just makes sense -- the way things have been going, with the missing Numbers, the monsters, and now the skills. What are the chances that they aren’t all related? And think about how Melete got her ‘skill.’ She got it after killing some monsters which were using the exact same skill against her...which seems pretty similar to the way we’re now getting more Numbers after killing monsters which also have Numbers.”
Styx is nodding along now, “That all makes a lot of sense, but...why is she the only one that got the skill? We all killed those same glass screaming monsters, and didn’t get a skill for it. At least you and I did. Why did Melete get the skill when we didn’t?”
Pallas shakes his head, clearly without a good answer, and we sit together in silence, each thinking about the possibilities of his theory.
After a minute, I direct my attention back to the chess board, and move one of my bishops to put her in check. “Either way, it doesn’t affect our plans for tomorrow, which is probably the main thing we should be focusing on for now. We still have to get back to some other people who know more about what’s going on. I don’t know about you both, but I’m feeling like eating the last of the pizza for dinner before an early bedtime. Let’s try to leave as close to dawn as we can.”
With that, the room quiets again as Pallas returns to his book, Styx stares back at the board, and the faint voice of Melete echoes up the stairs.
S: 87 (+3)
D: 38 (+7)
W: 45 (+6)
I: 36 (+7)
C: 51 (+5)
47
Skills: Adjust:Self