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25 - GHOSTS OF THE PAST

Making sure the village was far enough behind him, Nathan let out an enraged scream. “Fuck! Goddamn paladins!”

Finding the nearest tree, he swung as hard as he could, his fist leaving a clear imprint on the bark. Roaring wordlessly, Nathan continued to rain punches on the tree, everything else forgotten as he lost himself in his anger. Every strike landed heavier than the last, the tree's bark eventually splintering as bloody indents marred the trunk.

Finally, he stopped, blood dripping from his bare knuckles as he breathed heavily. Nathan could feel the rage creeping up on him, could feel the allure of simply letting himself go. His heart beat like a drum as he stood there, sweat falling from his face, his features contorted into an inhuman snarl.

I could rip that paladin apart. I've climbed to heights he can't even imagine, an alluring voice whispered in his mind. I've played the servile fool long enough. It's time to show the tower who I am.

Nathan felt the urge to let himself go, could practically taste the euphoria of letting his rage run wild. It was like a fire was burning in his chest, spurring him to relax the grip he had on his mind, to revel in the sensations he had denied himself for years.

But he had trained too hard for that—had been in this situation enough times to get himself back under control. Over the next few minutes, his expression relaxed and his breathing steadied.

Finally, Nathan sat down cross-legged, going through meditation techniques he hadn't needed in a long time. Visualizing his mind, he imagined a box, its lid slightly ajar, formless mist escaping from it. Taking back control of his thoughts and feelings, he stuffed all the anger, the sadness, and the weariness back into the box, closing it more securely than before, only satisfied when all the mist had lifted from his psyche.

When Nathan opened his eyes again, he was calm once more, idly tearing off pieces of his robe to bandage his wounded hands. The robe will repair itself, though it's a bit of a frivolous use for an ancient soulbound item.

That thought lifted his mood a bit, and eventually, he felt ready to explore his outburst.

It's been a long time since I lost my composure. I guess I've given up all the skills that kept me calm, and my stats are so much lower. Something about that paladin just set me off. He must have reminded me of someone else. I can't let myself slip up like that again—that's how climbers die.

Unconsciously reaching into his pocket, he made another realization. I'm out of cigarettes too. Those were the only vice I allowed myself. Kept me sane.

The outburst worried Nathan, but he had managed to regain his calm in the end. Now that he was aware of the problem, it would take a lot to set him off again.

Vaedor had pointed him in the general direction of the bandits, but it would take a while for Nathan to actually find them. Expecting to spend a few days wandering the wilderness, he located a cave just before evening, unwilling to spend the night out in the open despite his new tent.

Taking out his bottomless flask and some rations he had taken from the village, Nathan summoned a rectangular bundle from within his dimensional ring. It looked flimsy, made mainly of thin metal rods etched with runes, with green fabric spanning between them.

Nathan turned it around until he found what he was looking for, tugging on a handle that stuck out of it. He set the bundle down as it began to make clicking sounds. Watching in fascination, he saw the tent unfold itself—metal poles stretching out and snapping into place, the fabric rising up the sides until it eventually resembled something he'd expect to buy at a camping store back on Earth.

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With a final whirring sound, the runes on the structure lit up slightly, and Nathan could feel the surrounding energy being drawn into the tent. Deciding to test the magic, Nathan purposefully looked away before turning back around. He clearly saw the tent, but his mind simply skipped over it, accepting it as just another part of the cave, no more interesting than the rocks or moss on the wall.

Concentrating a bit harder, the sensation faded, the etched concealment runes failing to keep up. Good enough, Nathan decided. It won't keep anything away that's actively looking for me, but passing animals will ignore the tent.

Finishing his meal, Nathan entered, pleasantly surprised by the cool atmosphere inside. The space was generous enough for multiple people to spend the night, should the need arise—a fact that proved useful, as Nathan found himself face-to-face with another person.

“Hey, Agnostos,” Nathan greeted the visitor. “You really should start calling ahead if you want to come by.”

“I was not aware that was needed,” the being answered. “If this is your wish, however, I will certainly announce myself before our next talk.”

Nathan waved him off. “Nah, I was just joking. Feel free to drop by whenever.”

Agnostos tilted his head to the side, digesting the answer. “The minutiae of mortal communication still elude me, but I will accept that joke.”

Nathan broke out into a laugh at that answer. “It's all good, buddy. Hey, do you know about me travelling back in time?”

Agnostos nodded without hesitation. “Of course I do.”

Slightly surprised by that statement, Nathan continued. “What, that’s all? You didn’t even bring it up until now?”

Agnostos looked at him with confusion. “While time may only flow in one direction for you mortals, it is but another direction to those standing at the top of reality. It is an interesting feat that you managed to perform, of course, but I did not consider it worthy of conversation.”

Nathan hummed under his breath. “Makes sense, I guess. I just brought it up because starting over is harder than I first expected.”

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Nathan continued speaking, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and subdued. “There is the actual difficulty of climbing the tower, of course, but I’m fine with that. I chose to take a weak first class and climb as fast as possible, after all. Can’t really get angry at my own choices. But I’ve spent a lot of time in the past getting my mind under control.”

Nathan looked over at Agnostos, making sure he was listening. “There were some dark times in my life, before I entered the tower and even for years after that. I did a lot of things I’m not too proud of, things that should rightly have killed me, but I got over that period in my life. I had help getting over it, of course—I wouldn’t have managed alone.

Now that I’m back at the bottom, though, I fear I didn’t leave my past behind as thoroughly as I thought. And more than any of the monsters or challenges, I suspect that is what will destroy me.”

The two sat in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

“I cannot claim to understand a mortal’s mind,” Agnostos finally responded. “But I have watched you beat trials that should have spelt your death. And I know you climbed the tower as far as any of your species. The actual problem you are facing is unclear to me, but I do not doubt you will overcome it, as you have overcome every challenge in your past, Nathan Andrews.”

Nathan felt a knot in his throat as he wiped off some moisture that had spontaneously formed in his eyes. “Thank you. That means more to me than you might think, buddy.”

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Come morning, Nathan had put the emotional turmoil of the preceding day behind him. It was time to hunt bandits, and that was what he would do.

With that thought, he found himself looking down at his left hand, where a tattoo of a red chain encircled his wrist. I could go back on that blood oath and lose my hand, but waiting for it to heal would cost more time than simply dealing with the bandits.

Leaving his tent, he located the handle he had tugged on to unfold it in the first place and pressed it back into the groove, waiting patiently as its transformation reversed itself.

Depending on the average level and size of the bandit camp, I might even get my tenth level. The extra skill from that would make the guardian fight so much easier.

Setting out, he moved much more stealthily than yesterday, using the terrain to stay as hidden as possible and carefully watching for signs of human passage as he advanced. According to Vaedor, the bandits were still hours away from his position, but the only way to win an outnumbered fight was to rely on stealth, and Nathan did not plan to die just because he revealed himself prematurely.