"...think it's anything big?" Simos asked.
["What?"] Aiven replied, trying to recall what Simos was talking about.
Simos indicated the table opposite theirs. If the emptied mugs of beer had told him anything, it was that the rowdy group of men had drunk more ale than their blood could sustain. A fellow of sturdy build and a-day old stubble was alarmingly getting loud. Sitting on a barrel of his own, he was retelling a story that, due to his loud voice, made everyone on the inn a spectator whether they were willing or not.
"...the earth shook, blood everywhere! Those men got their insides displayed for crows on end! I saw it with me own two eyes! Then she took off, another head got slashed like," his hand made a chopping movement, "I tell you, Goddess Myrkva, harvested her quota that night!"
He ranted for minutes of undisturbed descriptions of horror that could curdle whatever was left of anyone's appetite, despite this, the man was successful in captivating the locals.
Aiven was studying the man. The more he tried to listen the more his face fell. Before long, Simos tapped his shoulder.
"He was talking about the attack at the Royal House Regalia," Simos explained. His guess that Aiven had no idea what the man was raging about was proven correct when Aiven's frown suddenly cleared, then nodded before his plate took his undivided attention once more.
Simos' eyebrows raised, "no comment?"
["Should I have one?"] He replied, munching on the grilled meat with leisure.
Simos and Aiven sat at their private table reserved for the inn's patron. It was their second night at Pious Point. They've already taken their time exploring what little the town has to offer and took a stroll in the forest as they would to a park. The suns took its fill and fell, and still no Delica to nag them.
The restless agitation on Aiven was growing as the night claimed the hours.
"Someone tried to kill our king, at the very heart of Central Regalia!" Simos emphasized each word.
["Kings get assassinated all the time. History had a whole chapter for that,"] Aiven watched the drunken storyteller with more interest this time. ["I thought demons were eradicated seven years ago?"]
"That's the fun part," Simos had a smug smile and continued, "It wasn't a demon."
["Rebels?"]
"Exactly."
Aiven sighed, ["Woe is to a king who isn't important enough for people not to want him dead."]
"Always the cynic," Simos nudged him from his side. "Lighten up a little."
Aiven grumbled and paused when he realized his meal was cleaned to its very bones. At the steady stare Aiven was giving at the lonely plate, Simos bellowed for the waitress and asked another helping of smoked grilled meat for his friend and for a refill of his own mug of steaming coffee.
The barmaid was quick on her feet to take Simos' order. There were only a few females at the inn, but somehow he could see a feral light on the women as the barmaid, coyly, but at a polite distance, poured Simos' coffee.
[Charm] as well as [Charisma], were attributes all present on Simos and which he seemed to have at excess. So for people to readily and freely fawn over him was something Aiven had already seen before. It was particularly fatal when they were seven years old. The kid could not even have two steps before a man or woman would try to touch or offer him some form of delicacy or another. Her sister was equally cursed. Delica had been carried and cuddled for a long time that her feet had not touched the ground until she was three, or so Aiven was told.
He actually took pity on any girl or boy that would fall for the siblings.
["Which high king are we talking about?"] Aiven asked, indulging Simos when the food arrived.
"Not a cardinal king bannerman, but King Regalia himself," Simos replied, lowering his voice.
"Oh," Aiven can't help but utter his amazement. Even the whole hordes and armies of the demon kingdom were not able to get hold of the Royal House Regalia's domain. To attempt a regicide against the principal head of Alvalar who was considered as the 'One True King' of all four of the city-fortresses, the rebels must be getting bold---or desperate.
"Seriously, where was your head? The man could practically be heard a block from here."
Aiven looked down on his food and back again at Simos. He took another mouthful as his answer.
"Had I told you before that you could out-eat a hippogriff?" Simos tsked, and resumed his eavesdropping over the inn.
The intrigue and mystery of the assassination had caught Simos' imagination and the boy was hunting any details down like a dog with a stick. It was enlightening what you might overhear from the flowing conversations on any place where tongues get loosened by few pints of watered ale and cheapened beer.
If he remembered correctly, Simos did say that he was aiming for an assassin class.
A loud, always smiling, blindingly positive assassin. Wonder how he’ll fare in that profession. Aiven can't help but smile at the irony, though from untrained eyes, only the corners of his mouth tightened.
It was at that moment Delica decided to enter the inn. With her small frame, she would have been left unnoticed, but she came in so abruptly that even the drunk storyteller who was rapt on his own world paused to look at the young mage novice.
"What are you two still doing here? We'll be late at the full silver moon!" she grabbed Aiven by the cuff and started retrieving some scrolls and potions.
"And who's fault was it to barge in late?" Simos retorted, placing his mug down which was turning lukewarm and made a move to prepare his own inventory bracelet for his equipment.
Delica took a break from shaking Aiven and stared down at her brother, and then she smiled sweetly, "I forgive you, Simos."
Momentarily he was taken aback and muttered, "heh, like hell you are." But Simos was already smiling indulgently at Delica while shaking his head lightly in exasperation.
"Of course!" She grinned cheekily, "what are you two still lazing about? Let's go, let's go."
As quickly as she came, did the two relaxed and started looking forward to their expedition.
By the time they left the table, the inn had resumed its normal activities.
----------------------------------------
"Hah, that was easy enough," he heard Simos declared carelessly.
Aiven knew that the boy was not one for being lax. Sporting a crested fire-enhanced vest under armored plates of spellforged iron, Simos was well prepared for any unforeseen incidents. But the fact that his halberd hardly left its sheathe as they've entered the temple's grounds was enough for him to relax.
"Odd," Delica whimpered. "I have a bad feeling about this, Simos."
On the contrary, Delica's enthusiasm seemed to have been deflated the moment they backtracked their route back at the temple. She had been on the edge since they've extended their exploration closer to the temple's ground, and now that the ruins were within sight, she didn’t felt any better.
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"Pah, don’t be like that Delica," Simos teased. "This is an adventure! All we have to do is touch the statue and we’re all set!"
"Adventure...right," she said with a sigh. "But really, don't you think it's weird that there are no manabeasts around?"
"Well, it was normal that beginner up to apprentice hunting grounds get combed over the blazen vacation, maybe the forest is still recuperating. So where to next?" Simos asked, directing the question to Aiven.
They were currently inside the empty foreboding courtyard with pillars at each intersection that leads to different paths. The architecture itself mirrored those of the Pious Point's vicarage, but the maze-like staircases and corridors could pose a challenge.
"Hey, you still there?" Simos snapped his fingers in front of Aiven.
He grunted and mutely pointed at the center aisle.
["Antechamber,"] Aiven answered with his normal signs.
"As expected to the man with a few words. I probably should lead from here," Simos announced all too happily.
Sheesh, this place is like a tomb. Not noticing the dark turn of Aiven's thoughts, Simos started whistling. Definitely tactless. His cheerfulness was really too much compared to the depressing aura of the temple.
"How’s the perimeter?" Delica asked beside him, readying her staff in case of trouble.
["Clear,"] he replied, checking his mapmaker skill list. He could grasp within a ten-chain radius of their surroundings. Even without a formal class, Aiven could be said to be on par with an average ranger.
Skillwise, his attributes were all below average.
[Automapping], the current skill he was activating, was a passive skill of mapmaker job skills, a basic for those who want to be in scribe class. [Detection] and its subskill [Far Sight] was the basic for those aiming for thief class and archer class. All base skills didn’t need a class for it to be learned, even beginners could gain these skills. So anyone in their batch could practice all spells within the first tier. But since specialization was important to gain a class, most preferred only those that’ll be useful in the long run and discard the ones they deemed useless.
However, by using [Automapping], he could freeze the mental image of detected manabeasts and hostiles in [Detection], then dispelling it so he could activate [Far Sight]. It overlaps with the mapmaking skills giving him wider peripherals. Alternating between detecting and sighting, he could update the current location of entities by every three seconds. If there was danger, he could activate and deactivate his skills in less than a second.
It took time to get used to, however, shifting controls during a duel was difficult. Aiven had consistently, without fail, scored 'White' during their combat examination. A blank score.
His parents almost disowned him.
Normally, anyone would have preferred the [Archer Skill Set I: Avian Sight], a higher vision compared to [Far Sight] that could give you a farther view but the smaller scope, similar to telescopes and spyglasses. But it’s impossible to be learned for a classless like him. As a rule, if two skills were overlapped with incompatible classes, it’ll become unstable and useless.
While others at least have honed ten advanced skills, he only had three and too many passive and basic skills on his arsenal. It can’t be helped since he tends to neglect skills training and shift to new ones on a regular basis. Only those who find his logic in doing so became close to him and those few are with him right now.
"Cool! Look at this! An automatic Jaw-Slinger! I never thought I’ll see this kind up close! First used in Roual Era in Schism of Grimoire against humanoids in…" Simos’ sudden outburst trailed off in a murmur as he handled the helmet-like gear tentatively in his hands. "Truly a vintage," he mumbled ecstatically.
Both Aiven and Delica shivered not wanting to know how such contraption was used. Just the name itself was already screaming an ominous intent.
A few more "vintage" traps later and they finally reached the center of the temple. Aiven was convinced it was these traps Simos came here for and not the gifting. No wonder, he was too much invested in this exploration.
Well, at least, there is no imminent danger we have come across with.
Simos’ [Hide Skill] would expire within four minutes so they hastened their pace. Just a few more meters and they’ll be inside the altar’s barrier. It’s a non-aggro area so they planned to rest easy inside against possible manabeasts attacks.
With their stats, there would be no difficulties exploring the area but the full silver moon gave an unknown effect to the forest, as with most celestial events. It’ll be better to be cautious.
Finally, they passed beyond the flight of stairs, flanked with solid columns, leading to the temple. Aiven sense a tingling sensation as they went over the sacred grounds. It’s the same feeling whenever they enter the City’s gate but clearly less aggravating, more likely because the altar was holy attributed instead of a defensive one.
When the last of them were safely inside, they breathe a collective sigh of relief, but what greeted them at the end of the aisle rendered them breathless.
The marble statue of Goddess Sola was the central figure of the altar. The statue's alabaster marble, now weathered in shades of gray, offered an unnatural glow of golden halo, giving enough visibility with the help of the full silver moon.
He had no means to guess its properties but he was certain the central figure was where the ground's holy barrier originated.
The smooth unflawed image gave a stark contrast to the decrepit temple that is on the verge of collapsing, giving it a more surreal atmosphere.
Suddenly, Simos took a bottle out of his inventory and started pouring the contents into three cups made of copper. Handling it to his other companions, he said. "This is the last day we will illegally drink wine! Let’s savor it!"
[https://scissorsnscribbles.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/11.jpg?w=1120]
Aiven clicked his glass with the others, going with the flow and not really getting the point. It’s his first time tasting alcohol since he was born, and tomorrow, they will get their status, hence all age-restricted laws will be lifted. He doubted whether a day difference would pose any problem but still, he didn’t understand why his friends would get giddy at a shallow act of defiance.
Still, he emptied his cup and felt the aromatic alcohol burn his throat that he coughed. Simos laughed at him, while Delica giggled, sipping the wine timidly.
He tried not to spill even a drop as the coughing fit subsided.
"I wonder what gift we would receive," Simos asked.
Aiven was waiting for them to reach the base of the statue when his detection spell suddenly blared a warning.