Ring ring ring

The phone began to ring as soon as I stepped into my apartment.

I threw off my shoes without bothering to put them inside the closet as I rushed over to answer.

“Hey, Chuck!” came a staticky, yet familiarly excited voice from the other side. “It’s Shovon, do you want to work out?”

“Oh hey, Shovon!” I said back, but without the same level of enthusiasm. I’d just gotten back and I wanted to relax a bit first. “Um…”

“I don’t blame you if you feel like you need another day to recover, but I’m headed there right now so I wanted to at least give you a heads up.”

I held the receiver away from my mouth and grumbled, but I had to admit, the man’s excitement was infectious. And besides…

“That doesn’t sound like a no,” he began.

“You know what? Sure! I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Great, see you there!”

I hung up the phone, changed into my workout clothes, and headed out.

It took me about as long as I said it would to drive over to the gym. Since it was only a bit past three in the afternoon, the building was relatively empty with the regulars likely working their normal nine to five jobs. Apparently neither Shovon nor I were exactly normal, evident from him bench pressing a five-hundred pound dumbbell as easily as I could lift a small puppy.

“Hey Chuck! What’ve you got there?”

“Something for you to lift between sets,” I said as I tossed a book onto his massive chest.

His eyes widened as he put the barbell back on its stand and leaned up. “The fuck is this? Did that missionary get to you, or something?”

“Open it up to the bookmark and start reading,” I casually replied.

Shovon glared at me, but did as I asked anyway and slowly picked up the book with the quill indentation, turning the pages to the section in question. “Genesis of the Fatewatcher,” he read aloud. His previous squint disappeared as his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his sockets.

“I had a hunch and asked about our ‘mutual acquaintance’ at the church.”

“Well, it paid off.” Shovon turned the book around so I could see the illustration. It featured a faded drawing of a young man with familiar curly black hair. “So now what do we do?”

“We know he’s not human,” I said slowly. “So let’s start by figuring out what exactly he is, and look for a weakness.”

The body builder looked at me with a strange expression before finally nodding and grabbing the barbell again. “Why don’t you start, then?” he asked between grunts. “I’ll follow your lead with the next story.”

“Sure.” I headed to the front desk and got myself a notepad and pen, before heading back to the weights. I took a seat and opened the book to the first story.

“Birth of the Fatewatcher,” it began. “In the times of yore, before the Lord of Words cradled the whole world in his loving embrace, the cults ruled the hearts and minds of people of the world. These terrible groups were split, yet held full sway over everyone. As all-powerful Ultarian is, in order to speed up the spread of the holy word, He created the Fatewatchers. These beings were molded into the most beautiful and powerful in all of existence.”

I began to doze off after reading the first paragraph before catching myself. With a quick shake of my head and a gulp of water, I dove back into the story, this time skimming through the fluff.

“The first push of the Fatewatchers took place in the frigid North, where colors washed over the sky like the waves; a sight of beauty that Ultarian greatly adored. But their task was not easy. The Vikings stood against them, and they put up a terrible fight, though not one that was unconquerable. In their biggest battle in those early days, the third of the Fatewatchers faced off against one dozen Berzerkers. Through the powers of their own false gods and magic, they transformed into half-man, half-bear creatures, yet larger, stronger, and more skilled than either parts. Despite their strength to carry one hundred and fifty stones, they were no match for the Fatewatcher. Besides, the Lord of Word’s creation could carry much more!”

I did the math in my head. A stone was about fourteen pounds, so a hundred and fifty of that was… over one ton.

Gulp

“Alright, that’s definitely something about them. I don’t know how lifting strength translates to combat strength, but it’s definitely worth something.”

I took the paper and drew a line that split it down the middle, labeling each new column “Strengths” and “Weaknesses” each. Under the first column, I wrote “1 ton+ lift strength” and “Killed 12 werebears.”

I lifted the pen up and regarded that last part for a second. How much of this story was actually real? Sure, the System was a thing and the Fatewatcher was too… likely. But werebears? Magic? I hadn’t seen anything of the sort in this world, could I really trust stories from a holy book to be accurate?

My hand fell to my pocket, and it felt at the bracelet inside. The System seemed to believe magic was real, from what it told me, so maybe there was some merit to the tale after all?

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I continued reading, but it wasn’t long before the tale ended without much fanfare. The next one started immediately after, but before I could get through more than the first sentence, I was interrupted by a hand falling on my shoulder.

“Alright, let’s switch,” said Shovon, wiping away the seat on his brow.

“Sure,” I replied, handing over the book to him along with a towel.

He grabbed both with a smile and sat down as I made my own way to the dumbbell.

I began to do deadlifts again, this time following the form Shovon told me to. Elbows tucked in, feet planted firmly, shoulders not too hunched.

I looked over to my gym partner to see if he had anything to say, but he was looking at my notes with a frown, and not one of concentration. He cocked an eyebrow and looked over to me, mouth half open. I was sure he was about to ask me something, but he instead kept quiet, gave me a thumbs up, and got to reading.

The set went by relatively quickly. Despite the lack of a level up between then and now, it didn’t feel as difficult as it did yesterday. Maybe it was the fact that I had a better form this time, or likely it was because I wasn’t under as much stress. When I finished, I put the barbell back on the rack and headed over to Shovon.

I frowned as I looked over his addition to the notes. He’d made a third column, splitting weaknesses into two and labeling it as “Personality.” Under it, he’d written “Extremely devoted to Ultarian,” and “Prideful.”

“So I’m guessing what you read was more of a fluff piece on them?” I asked.

“Kind of,” he replied with a shrug. “It’s about a Fatewatcher debating different religious leaders.”

“Debates, huh? The one I met didn’t seem all that interested in talking.” I rubbed at my chest, feeling the remnants of the feather quill indent on my skin.

“That’s why I didn’t write ‘eloquent’ as a strength.” The body builder shook his head. “The so-called debates were just strawman arguments a ten year old could take down, like the Fatewatcher’s opponents drank stupid juice that morning or something.”

I let out a tired sigh. “Maybe these really are just parables, then? Not actually things that happened but are there to teach a lesson to whatever kid is made to read it?”

“I dunno about that, there are some details that match up with things I’ve read from a few history books about other cultures,” Shovon replied with a hopeful smile. “Namely, about their way of life, the food they ate, and how their royal courts did business.”

“Wow, you sure know a lot,” I said with raised eyebrows.

“Thanks! I used to study anthropology, so I recognized some things here.”

I considered asking him if he knew about the System then, since most cultures around the world had stories about it. He could’ve helped me get even stronger if he knew about it. But in the end, I decided not to, otherwise he might’ve thought I was either crazy or working with the Fatewatcher.

“Gotta love how they included all of the extraneous details in these stories,” he continued. “Though they overdid it with the part the Fatewatcher got hurt by their holy weapons. Where they got hit, how much they bled, how long it put them out of commission. Way too gory.”

My eyes went wide and lips curled into a snarl. “What did you say?” I asked in a low whisper.

“That it’s way too gory, like, just talk about what kind of person these Fatewatchers are!”

“Why the fuck would you be interested in that?” The curse word in the middle of my sentence came out as a shout as I lost control of my voice. I breathed in heavily as I glared at the bodybuilder seated in front of me.

“Woah man, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that you’re messing around here!” I shouted, not caring about the few gym goers giving me stares. “You just described an actual, solid weakness of that bastard and you just skipped past it! What gives?”

Shovon’s eyes went wide in realization. He took a second to look into my eyes, and I could’ve sworn he flinched back when he saw the fire in them. But he quickly regained his composure and slowly replied in a soft whisper. “Are you thinking about… killing him?”

The pause gave me a moment to settle down, even if only a little, and quiet myself back down to an indoor voice. It still didn’t erase the sheer rage in what I said. “Are you not?”

“N-no! Why would I want to kill someone? I’m not a murderer!” His look quickly turned fearful. “Are you?”

Something about his gaze broke through all of my anger, all of my rage, and cut deep inside me. My own expression began to soften, and took on a look of fear. Not for our stalker. For myself. “No, I’m not.”

“Then why do you want to kill him?”

“Because he’s trying to kill me,” I said back in a shaky voice that began to break. “And I don’t want to die.”

“Wait, what?” Shovon sat up and looked at me in surprise.

“He’s trying to kill me, Shovon.” I took a deep breath as I fought back the raw feeling in my throat. “He broke into my place yesterday and punched me so hard, I went flying through a door, ripped it straight off its hinges, and left me with enough damage that probably would’ve killed me if I wasn’t lucky. And just a few hours ago, he tried to run me over with a truck!”

“Oh my God,” Shovon disbelievingly whispered to himself while placing a hand to his head. “Again…”

“Huh?” I weakly asked.

“He never did anything like that to me, just dislocated my arm after I said I didn’t want Ultarian’s help in getting strong. I was able to push it back in and get back to working out the next day.”

“That would get a lot of people running to the emergency room, how are you not trying to fight back?”

“Your injury sounded like something that would’ve put someone in the hospital too, I could ask you why you’re not trying to use diplomacy,” he shot back. But the cockiness in his voice fell as he finished his sentence. “But the truck was sheer attempted murder.”

“Yeah.” I took a seat next to him on the bench. “I’m just trying to defend myself.”

“Hey,” he laid a hand on my shoulder and flashed me a smile. “Maybe you should leave the violence as a last-resort? I don’t think either of us has what it takes to do any actual damage to him. Not without some kind of holy magic.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” I placed my hand against the magical bracelet in my pocket. “But in the meantime, I guess it wouldn’t hurt doing it your way either.”

“That’s the spirit!” exclaimed Shovon as he sat up and handed me the book. “But you say that like we’ve got a chance of actually finding something like that!”

“Who knows?” I asked back with my own smile. “I’ve had crazier things happen to me.”