Requiem.

We sigh again, unable as we are to deny Darling her little delights. We still feel wholly out of tune with the bustle of city life as she seems to be. But we content ourselves in her joy. Reginald’s companionship in these moments is a solidarity that we didn’t know we’d appreciate quite this much. Even before his transition, he was never one for crowds of people. Most happy when eating or training in peace, even if under watchful eyes.

Unlike the eyes here, which do more than just watch. They tell stories, they cajole and entice and entertain and question. So many eyes, so many offers, and we can’t help but keep alert and notice them all. Already we’ve seen several pickpockets and are only thankful that Reginald’s attire is sufficiently worn looking to not demand a target. While his careful and steady pace and grasp of his sword has deterred any opportunists.

We follow Darling’s directions through the crowd even as she uses her diminutive size and flight to look at more of the displays. Very in keeping with her ancestry, she flits between each little thing that catches her attention, all while moving us ever onward and doing us the favor of staying in sight. Apparently, when she was shopping with Reginald yesterday, he would often lose track of her and ended up waiting in place for her return.

Our extra size gives us a wider berth that more, but not all, people respect. That and having the ability to fully focus on multiple things at once make me far less worried about injuring the others in the crowd with our movement.

We did some practicing back on the road, to leverage the ability of our [Graveflesh] to puppet our body using arcana instead of mere muscle. We feel that perhaps trying to prevent our weight from crushing flowers was too ambitious as an initial task. Though the brief window after Acolyte came online lent some experimentation and more success. Still, even as an active, watchful process, being able to prevent ourselves from crushing something we step on is useful at our size.

We’re enough novelty that we see some children playing, making big stomping motions and snake puppets with their hands to terrorize the others. Apparently, snake creatures is this child’s specialty, because before we were spotted they kept their legs together and slid their feet on the ground when they were chasing. Though, perhaps most strange, is the mannerisms they used for our heads, those they were imitating quite well already.

“{Regniald? Is there a story about a multi-headed serpent for these parts?}”

“(A multi-headed… No? No. Wait, maybe? I mean, there’s the myth about one of the Witches of the Woods named Medusa that kind of fits that description. But not really.)”

“{Tell us. And also, Witches of the Woods? Is [Witch] a class? It tastes like a class.}”

“(Sure, and yeah, it’s a class. They’re like [Primalists], or at least the stories say they are. Most city kids won’t really get the opportunity for classes like those. Basically, the idea behind them is that they have a stranger connection to… something. And the way that connection works with their class makes them different than ordinary folk. I’m explaining this poorly, sorry.)”

“{Take your time. We love to learn, and these strange classes seem more interesting than your old one.}”

“(Right. Also, good example. A [Soldier] is just a basic grunt, though some can take just that basic class and make it really special, mostly it just does basic things. But even the specialists I mentioned before, geniuses, talents, or those picked out for whatever reason mostly just branch off from these foundations. The special classes might be something like [Burning Bowyer] or an [Earthen Spearman] with an elemental channel for their class.

“(Or something like a [Blade Master] or even a [Weapon Master] that has more extensive training and skill in using weapons. There are also the various [Mage] classes and all their complications and challenges and unique benefits.

“(But! The [Witch] is different.

“(Sorry again that these are just stories, but they say that the [Witch] class is more connected with a place or an idea. What makes them truly strange though, is while you’ll get stronger and better muscles as a [Soldier] just because of training, and a [Fire Mage] might get physically hotter or colder to the touch, many class augments are subtle.

“(Whereas a witch could have a connection with a swamp, and rather than just command the powers of one, they would start to become more like a swamp. Their hair and skin getting perpetually damp and slimy while able to spew forth swamp muck from their mouths.)”

“{Fascinating. Sounds powerful, if perhaps not particularly compatible with most people. But you mentioned a Medusa myth?}”

“(Right. Its why they make such rich stories for kids. Either there’s a mean old witch that will eat them up, or kids will threaten to run away and become a witch themselves. But right, Medusa. Hmm, her story is, well… the full story is pretty horrific.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“(In the one I’m most familiar with, Medusa was an [Earth Mage] of some sort, pretty powerful and… pretty beautiful. Then you have some evil noble come along and ruin her. Some of the stories get rather graphic about how, but most of them involve her ending up abandoned in the woods. While there, she undergoes a [Class Change] much like mine. Actually, probably very similar to mine.

“(Anyways, she ends up returning from the woods with the lower body of a serpent and her hair turned into snakes. Supposedly, she was still an exotic beauty, and she leveraged this to get herself ‘invited’ to meet the noble. Now, being as thoroughly snake-like as she was, naturally this evil noble brought artifacts to enhance his strength and make him immune to venom. Much like how he used disruptors and stabilizers to block her earthen magics before.

“(But, as the story goes, Medusa’s new power wasn’t a venom, or at least not a typical one. The evil noble was never seen alive after that night, and the only thing that remained of his room of evil delights was a broken marble statue of himself. When the pieces were put back together there were new scars all over his body and his face was the image of terror and pain.

“(Some stories have more details about that process too. But yeah. The [Witch] class has some really bizarre abilities, that mostly seem unique to the witch. The legend about Medusa in particular says she went on to Ascend with her newfound focus and power. Acting as a rallying beacon to overcome evil and end it, no matter how it might change you.)”

“{Recompense is a decent moral for a story. Righting wrongs should be rewarded, and if power is your coin, making more of it is certainly doable here.}”

“(For some people, sure. One thing I learned from the old instructors especially, is that making power and wanting power are very different. When I was a starved nothing on the street before they took me in, I wanted power. But after years of training, and years of seeing the results of people managing to make power, either by following instructions or being scouted and forging a different path. I learned that I did not want the consequences of making my own power great.)”

“{Surely, much of that was the environment, the watchers though, yes?}”

“(I honestly don’t know for sure. Looking back at it, I wasn’t ever any less frightened by not having the Master’s attention. And however more closely the specialists had to work with the Master, they always had more available to them. I just didn’t really want more. I contented myself being less than I could have been, and where did that leave me? So startled that the Master knew my name that I missed he asked me a question. And then I died for it.)”

We find ourselves grumbling at bit at that, wanting to offer encouragement, or point out flaws in their perspective. But some of that is a selfish desire, and an adversarial one as well, because there is much that can be learned from suffering. Yes, it would be better if bad things didn’t happen, but what would that even mean on a cosmological scale.

Most every major experience in our old life was a bad thing that happened. From our birth necessitating us fleeing in terror and dread. To each and every sibling death that just massively empowered us. To the myriad horrors of becoming an invalid under our own weight, being conquered by humans. Becoming civilization.

Yet, without them, could we have made the right choice there in the end? We can remember how much better the people wielded the light by the end of things versus when our siblings were still roaming the world. If we had better options back then, how long would any of us have managed to live, to teach. Would enough people have wanted to learn to make a difference?

Because the Mantle was just an emergency feature, a temporary defense against those that already had Power. It was going to come crashing down sooner or later and-

“^Requiem, dear? We’ve arrived. It’s fine, don’t say a word. What ifs are questions that can drown anyone. Focus instead on something more grounded if no less complex, what is. Now, we have an appointment set up to meet with the guild representative in twenty minutes. Did you want to lead the talks with me translating as necessary, or would you rather I take charge?^”

Grateful once more for a companion to not have myself wallow in spiraling thought, “{This is your stage, Darling. We’re here because we agree with the idea, but the decisions and rewards should be yours. You’ve put in the work and can do a far better job of it.}”

She bobs at us, “^Yes. Good. So, let’s just go over some talking points while we wait, okay?^”

We nod and act as a sounding board for her, mostly just to help her settle her nerves.

As it turns out, what we were aiming for and what we actually wanted were very different things. Just getting a generic mercantile license was simple and easy enough and the rep was able to get a bunch of that paperwork expedited for us. The complications arouse and Darling really started to shine when what we were really after came to light.

As fixated as we’d become on a merchant’s papers so that Darling could effectively sell her honey, and with the way Yojimbo and Sergei in particular have treated us, we forgot. Though it hasn’t happened yet, not really, the main issue we’re likely to encounter going forward isn’t whether we have an official permit to barter honey. Our real problem will be whether we have [Heraldry] to distinguish ourselves as a wandering merchant, or if we’re just a wandering monster with a couple non-standard people with us.

Being accosted and subsequently devouring a group of bandits is an entirely different encounter that running across a patrol of soldiers in the wilds and having to kill them to defend ourselves. All because they can’t hear our voice and might not care what an individual has to say with the threat we represent. [Heraldry] is something that can aid us in scenarios like that.

Because while we have no real problem with a group declaring war upon us for who we are. When we can actually force them to submit to certain [Rules] while they do so has advantages that we will certainly utilize to their fullest. In an interesting twist, a matron, her heir, and their bodyguard travelling with their home and all their worldly possessions being moved by even a monster such as ourselves, can get quite a lot of benefits and leniency from the rules.