Sitting cross-legged he floated unimpeded in the middle of the room. He could see far into the distance, and he enjoyed watching the city go about it’s day. Below him, his subjects were focusing on their own concerns, weaving the tapestry that was the Kingdom.
King Oliver Oglivarch enjoyed watching his Kingdom from this tower. The expansive ceiling in his observation room was supported by tall ornate pillars that were interspersed along the edges in a circle. As there were no walls or furniture, the wind howled unimpeded. The harsh winds made the atmosphere unappealing to most people, so he was usually undisturbed by trivialities. This isolated room, sitting atop his tower, was perfect for pondering the state of his kingdom. His gaze, as of late, has been pulled south toward Islangur.
‘It is not only through conflict with each other that we grow, the world presents conflict enough. Your path is flawed Barett.’ The King thought to himself, not for the first time.
His time of introspection and meditation was interrupted, as the door leading to the lower floors slid open on the floor to his left. Glancing over, he saw two of the ‘Council of Leadership’ rise up out of the floor. Both Lord Jessica Manchester, and Lord Johnathon Silverbrook wore equally deep frowns. They were two of the his most meticulous advisors, every day they brought something that ‘required’ his immediate attention.
When the wind hit them, their robes started fluttering madly. The King spread his psychic field and calmed the surroundings, as there was no reason to subject them to his preferences. With grateful looks, they bowed deeply.
“Sire, Prince Benjamin has heard from the fateweavers, they say something has caused the matrix of fate to foretell of an uncertain future.” said Lord Manchester.
“We think it may have to do with an anomaly in the upper planes reported by the Council of Mages.” Lord Silverbrook added in a grave tone.
The King nodded, and descended from his seat in the air. As his feet touched the ground, he summoned a robe to cover his bare chest. On his brow sat a thin crown, holding down his slicked black hair. His bright blue eyes met theirs and he gave them a look of exasperation.
“Don’t let Ben’s belief that fateweaving is infallible infect you. You both know the term ‘fateweaving’ is nothing but tradition. In fact, ‘fate weaving’ is an oxymoron. Fateweavers don’t ‘weave’ anything. What they said just means that the variables the matrix was monitoring changed. It doesn’t necessarily spell disaster. We really need to push a title change through committee for their entire order. Anyway, what was the anomaly?”
The two council members exchanged a look, “Not much is known yet, but there was an anomaly in the upper planes.” Silverbrook said.
“Yes, you just said that,” the king said with a sigh. He would have to find his own answers as usual; he didn’t need a link to interact with the thought hub. “Give me a moment, I’m reading the report now,” he said, as he looked off into the distance.
Crossing his arms as he mentally read everything that has been uploaded by anyone in his kingdom investigating the anomaly.
“They don’t know anything about it. Wait… Arch Mage Mathers just located it.” The king’s eyes locked onto the Tower of Mages in the distance. “It’s just an extra-dimensional soul. It’s possible that the new soul’s path will affect some of our projections, but I doubt it will amount to much. Tell Ben to stop jumping at fate’s shadow. And in the future, try to wait until you actually have something to worry about, before you jump to conclusions.” The King said sagely, and the wind returned.
Taking the hint, the councilors returned through the floor as the King resumed his meditation session.
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The cafeteria was another ridiculously large room. This one had long wooden tables organized in rows like a fancy dining hall at some ivy league university. Everything was buffet style along the walls, with employees moving around and refilling heated trays. The place wasn’t filled to capacity, but it seemed like this was a busy time of day.
I couldn’t help but think back to what Mrs. Salvatore said; I’m supposed to have an internal clock? My identity is how the world sees me?
I found it annoying how everyone just keeps referencing things that I’m supposed to know. For instance, what was ‘the link’ that she casually threw into conversation?
‘Questions like these are going to keep coming up, considering that I’m in an ENTIRELY different world. I need to find the local version of wikepedia.’ I thought.
I stood near the entrance, looking around like a tourist. People were forced to move around me to get to where they wanted to go. As I was starting to cause a backup, a waiter wearing green robes and an apron made his way through the crowd.
When he saw he had my attention, he said “Excuse me, you need help finding something? Or are you looking for your group?”
“It’s my first time here. Do I just grab anything? Can I charge it to my room with this?” I asked, while holding up the token that Heather gave me at the front desk.
With a puzzled look, he said “The Center’s Rest cafeteria doesn’t charge for food. Your identi-key is just so your link can join the local hub. Didn’t you pay attention during your introduction?”
Not wanting to get into it, or go through my whole story again, I replied, “I’m just a special case, don’t worry about it.” I waved it off and started to head toward the buffet. “Thanks for the help, have a great day.”
For me, the novelty of a new world is already starting to dim. I could already tell that the people here were going to annoy me just as much as they did back home. Probably even more-so than back home considering all their self-help bullshit. I wondered if I could exploit that somehow. Maybe I could market some motivational posters, or encouraging t-shirts. ‘I’m the change that I need’, or ‘Today is the first day of the rest of my life’, and other such sayings that were totally common back home, but were probably considered clever and impressive here. Speaking of money, what the hell was going on with the economy here? How is all this free? Who pays for the Center? Weren’t those market fruits ‘two for a valen’ or something?
At least the food looked normal, with some odd exceptions. I saw some sliced ham, but the guy behind the counter was definitely not cutting it off a cooked pig. The guy was expertly removing slices of meat off a 6 ft long ‘tube’ of a torso. Both ends were cleanly sliced, and the whole thing was roughly cylindrical. I couldn’t see any joints. Was it some kind of snake? ‘Fuck it. It looks like ham. I’m calling it tube ham,’ I decided.
I put a plate together, grabbed a pitcher of what I hoped was some kind of coffee, and threw a cup in my mouth. After collecting my meal, I found a seat as far away from anyone as possible. It was time to read the introduction packet and get some answers.
While eating my meal, which was pretty good, I started reading. I made sure to begin from page 1 of the ‘welcome to the center’ indoctrination packet. The cover had a picture of Center associates working together and pointing at things. All of them were happy and good looking. It could be the welcome packet for any corporation, university, or even a cult I guess. I didn’t skip the introduction because I figured there was information that everyone already knew. ‘I’ll need to be careful not to drink the kool-aid. However, this coffee is really good,’ I noted.
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There was a lot of information that I pieced together from context. Like, the Center is a part of the government of Dorchester. Every city or town has a version of the Center. It manages civil functions like healthcare and education. ‘OK, so it’s a government healthcare/education system… Is this whole place like Norway. Norway was like this, right?’ I tried to remember.
They offered classes on everything. I noticed that it was like a community center and ivy league university combined. While flipping through the class pages, I saw everything from accounting to monster hunting. ‘Cool, they have pottery and ‘beginning painting’ classes. I heard that it was pretty easy to score there,’ I thought to myself as I smiled at the idea of my future adventures with the hot housewives of the local community center.
The introductions to the different ‘branches’ were very interesting. Branches were like colleges back home; e.g. ‘branch of politics’ ‘branch of mathematics’ ‘branch of engineering’ etc. The whole, “If you’re interested in pursuing a career in law, the branch of politics is essential to a strong foundation. Here at Center Dorchester we have a strong curriculum designed to help you reach your potential. Classes are available to all those who have completed… blah blah blah”.
There are satellite schools for children up to the age of 14. After the kids awaken they are considered adults in the eyes of the law and are allowed to choose where to go to secondary education. Basic secondary education usually lasts for up to 10 years, and then kids go out and get a job. It seems signing up for military service is really common. There are lot of mentions of monsters and dungeons, but I can’t seem to find any information about them. It seems like the knowledge is so common, that no one bothered to include it.
The economics section didn’t help much either. Class descriptions talked about how to do accounting mostly. There were some interesting classes on appraising monster parts and dungeon town development.
‘Is the kingdom expanding to find dungeons, or do dungeons just show up?’ I wondered. Reminding myself to get some paper to write out questions for Nick, I continued my perusal.
There was a really interesting section on the Center’s association with the guards and the army. It seemed guards are the equivalent of the police. They are locally supported, and under the purview of the regional lords. It seems that in this world, the term ‘City Lord’ refers to whoever is in charge of a City, regardless of it’s a man or a women. ‘How progressive.’ I thought, while chuckling.
I could just imagine people being for or against it for tons of reasons. One side complaining that ‘Lord’ is a masculine name and a women in charge should be called ‘Lady’. The other side saying the calling someone a ‘Lady’ is inheriting a bias.
‘Oh, there is a class on ‘Lording’!’ I noted with excitement.
Unfortunately, the class required a noble claim slot for potential ruling. The description was disappointing as well. It covered the standard departments, and how to address staffing concerns. I was hoping it was more spicy than just being a fancy version of a management class. In fact, everything in this world was very literal. When they talked about ‘their center’, they meant the actual center of themselves. As in, the metaphysical place that powers their abilities.
‘That brings up a good point. Are there philosophy classes?’ I wondered.
Flipping through the book, there was a branch of philosophy. However, it seemed to focus on the scientific aspects; meaning that they only cover testing of verifiable data. For them, concepts like the afterlife and the self, were verifiable. I guess when you could actually TEST someone’s soul you didn’t have to stare at the stars and wonder what it all means.
Even their psychology classes were about reading minds and emotions. The idea of privacy was just assumed. It seemed that it wasn’t hard to keep people out of your head here. All the classes were about how to help people who voluntarily let mind readers muck around inside their head. ‘Nut jobs, all of them.’ I thought with a scowl.
How can they be OK with someone going through their mind? Although, an even better question was how someone can dedicate their incredibly long life to reading other people’s minds with the caveat that it was completely voluntary.
Then there were entire classes that focus on the soul. Examinations of who you are, and what you want, all treating the soul like it was a jar that you can carry around and examine. Flipping through the pages, I got a sense of how people see the world. Imagination was a poorly developed skill.
If everything that is esoteric can be measured, then no one does thought exercises. People don’t sit around and think about what it would be like if they got turned into a gerbil. I looked up at the beautifully carved ceiling and spent a good 30 seconds trying to decide if that was a bad thing.
I wondered if my imagination was why I was leveling so fast. ‘I think differently.’ I said to myself.
When someone born here sees something they don’t understand, they just look it up. That’s probably where the world I left was headed. Why would a person try to figure something out, when they could just look up a video on it?
At least when I’m confused, I point my admittedly poor imagination-engine at whatever confuses me. It may not offer any immediate solutions, but I could always come up with a few ideas. First time seeing a tube ham? I try to think about what it came from, whereas people here will just go, ‘that’s weird. I wonder what that is’, then move on.
‘I wonder if there are creative writing classes. Yup. Here they are.’ I noted with some enthusiasm.
My happiness was short-lived, as the classes were focused solely on the writing. There were several writing classes about how to frame a story, proper grammar, and how to correctly reference scientific journals. There was even a writing class on how to correctly research your subject.
‘I don’t think it’s wrong to research for a topic, but isn’t creatively writing a defined concept a little… oxymoronic,’ I thought to myself.
Closing my booklet and picking up my empty dishes, I stood up to leave. ‘Whatever. I’m done with this for now. I think I got the gist of it. People here are unimaginative but spiritual, in a very literal way. The Center is a government division that takes taxes and donations and turns them into a workforce and healthcare. The army is both local and national, the guard is local. Monsters and dungeons are dangerous, but profitable. Last but not least, I have a lot of schooling I need to catch up on.’ I decided.
Heading off to the library was easy, it was just on the other side of the dorm. Walking through the doors was like walking into any library. There was a large circular desk right at the front with librarians and stations. They all had the little crystals on their temples.
I walked up to the front desk and introduced myself, “Hi, I’m new here and was just wondering how all of this works. How do I look up a book on a particular subject?”
Smiling politely, the librarian said, “There are two main ways associates can access information. Either use your link to access the library directly, or use the terminals to find a physical copy of whatever your looking for.”
“What exactly is a link?” I ask.
With a look of pity on his face, he said “You must be from a really small village.” He pointed to his temple. “This is a link. It allows you to link to a station and access the information. You’ll have to be careful not to use it for too long, as it can stress your mind and drain your center. Usually you go to one of the desks with a station, open a connection, then find what book you're looking for. Then you disconnect and go get your book. Basic links aren’t too expensive, and you can get them at most general stores. In the mean time, you can just ask me what you’re looking for, and I can help you find it.”
Seemed simple enough. Except that they have freaking brain interactive technology while still riding horses. “I want a book on the basics of the ‘identity’ and skills. Oh, and an overview of leveling, the economy, and a map... And also pillars.” I said.
He just stared at me like I was an idiot.
“OK, let’s start with the book on identity and skills.” I amended my request with a smile. His temple lit up as he sighed, and he closed his eyes.
“This will work. ‘What to know when you awaken’ is a good choice. It is routinely checked out by new associates. Before I send you to the stacks, let me see if someone recently returned a copy.” he said.
As he stood up and started going through some book carts, I thought about how much there is to learn. Looking around at the thousands of books and all the students working intently, I felt like I was really behind. I may not have been privy to most of the collected human knowledge back home, but I at least knew how to use a toaster there. Here, I was completely out of my depth. My incredible mastery at online searches for topic outlines wasn't going to help me much here.
Then my stubbornness and irritability reared its head and I thought to myself, ‘Screw em, they can read all they want. I’ve been baptized by comic books. Anime and fantasy culture are my pedigree. I got this.’
The overly polite librarian returned with a thick book and interrupted my mental pep-talk, saying, “Here you go. This covers the basics of what you need to know, now that you’ve awakened.”
Seeing his customer service smile, I couldn't stop myself from responding with a sarcastic, “Yeah, I can read the title. Thanks." Pausing to reign in my temper, I tried taking the edge off my cutting remark by adding a charming grin.
"Can I take this with me?” I asked lightly.
His smile now gone, he just placed a little brick on the counter and said, “Put your chit on this, the book will be checked out under your name. You have 7 days to return it, or your account will be charged the full amount of the book plus a handling fee. Thank you, and may your path be wide and clear.” Then he sat back down, and looked behind me for the next person to help.
I just chuckled and leaned forward to place my chit hanging on my neck to the brick, which flashed blue for a second. My smile was wide and clear, as I turned around and walked off to my room. On the way, I congratulated myself that I at least still had my acerbic wit, which was as sharp as ever.