“I assume you have a preference?” ZEKE asked. “Or at least your own thoughts, before I give you mine.”
Alarion and Sierra exchanged glances. They had indeed spent considerable time discussing the issue back and forth on their journey through the city, and though they had narrowed their choices down by half, the final choice had proven impossible.
“Found Family or Lucky Strike,” He said at last.
“And why?” Alarion’s face scrunched up in annoyance at the question and ZEKE lifted a hand to stifle his concern. “I will not always be around for guidance, as you’ve so recently learned. Nor will Sierra for that matter. The choice of skill here is important, but the development of your critical thinking skills is likewise vital. So tell me why?”
“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” He answered honestly. “Which makes solitary a bad choice, even if I weren’t getting ready for induction.”
ZEKE tipped his head approvingly.
“And Lucky Barrage just seems worse than lucky strike,” Alarion continued, “Five seconds is a lot in a fight and apart from punching or kicking, I’m not known for hitting repeatedly.”
“Both acceptable answers. Solitary is a bad choice, but I’ll remind you that what you want and what you need aren’t necessarily the same thing.” The machine waved a hand and the two offending skills vanished from their lineup. “Your thoughts on the other two?”
“Lucky Strike is probably the best.”
“And why?”
Alarion tilted his head back, looking up toward the clouds floating lazily in the sky as he composed his answer. “Having the biggest sword will only get me so far as I advance in ranks. If I can’t make myself an adequate threat, then-”
“Enough.” ZEKE waved him off with annoyance. “You’ve made your point. Then why haven’t you selected it?”
“Because he had questions about Found Family that I could not answer,” said Sierra. “About the note text and how individuals are ‘designated’.”
“Ah.” ZEKE steepled his hands, index fingers tapping against one another as he considered how to reply. “And you are considering it, depending on those answers.”
“Orphan is my strongest class right now, but it will fall behind very quickly if I cannot gain levels in it,” Alarion responded. “I was hoping that I could take this, and then upgrade it later to allow for more than one other person. But whether that is possible depends on those answers.”
“Very forward thinking of you.” There was a strong note of pride in ZEKE’s voice as he studied the skill’s wording once again. “Designate abilities function similarly to your Self-Motivated skill unless otherwise marked, so you should be able to reassign it. Provided you have at least one person near you that you trust. The second condition is more troublesome, simply because it is unknown.”
“You’ve never seen anything like it either?” Alarion frowned.
ZEKE snorted. “To the contrary. You aren’t that special. I’ve seen similar clauses in any number of pupils over the years. My issue is that we’ve never had an Orphan before. Your class isn’t strictly unique, but its conditions are restrictive enough that I can’t imagine more than a handful ever existing, if that. Stubborn Swordsman is rare, but if we spent time in the VISIT archives, I am certain we could find some dusty tome detailing the progression of that class.”
“So it isn’t bad?”
“No, far from it. The note is simply a warning that the skill is a divergence. Most rank I classes do not have them, or have them only near max level, which is why Sierra would not recognize them. But as an awakened advances in Rank, they’ll be offered skills that will shift their progression, narrowing or broadening their class focus. In your case the difference is between leaning into the ‘solo’ nature of the class, or allowing yourself to be adopted and turn toward a more traditional leveling path. In extreme cases, this can even result in a forced class change.”
“Mm.” Despite the firm agreement, Alarion’s eyes were unfocused as the boy considered the many implications. “Not bad, not good. Just different.”
“Correct. Yet in this case I recommend against selecting it.” Alarion’s shoulders slumped slightly at the words, but ZEKE carried on all the same. “Your Orphan class is a Rank II Rare, evolved from a Common level 1 class. That is… well, rare. Not only is it almost unheard of for someone to advance to a higher Rank without gaining any levels or even selecting a skill, but going all the way from Common to Rare in a single rank up is immensely impressive. Your inability to gain XP while near others is undoubtably part of why the class is so powerful. Diluting that runs the risk of diminishing what makes it so strong in the first place. If your class was more well known, we might research the risks, but without it… stay conservative and take the obvious boost in power where you can get it.”
Alarion couldn’t argue with any of the logic. He read the two skills before him one more time, then navigated to his own skill menu. A few mental pushes, and the displayed status collapsed in on itself, returning back to the main screen where Alarion’s new [Lucky Strike] skill floated happily amidst its compatriots.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“Splendid.” ZEKE dismissed the remaining window with a wave of his hand, then directed the pair toward the keep’s outer wall with the other. “Mistress Elena is already waiting for us on the Stone Isle. We should not delay further.”
—
The trip from Manor to Stone was uneventful, save for a short scuffle with the sailor scheduled to row them to the far isle. Apparently there had been a concern that ‘that thing’, namely Alarion’s new oversized mace, would be too much weight. In the end ZEKE had pulled authority, and a slightly larger ship was prepared within minutes. He might vehemently dislike the boy’s choice of weapon, but he’d have to get used to carrying it now rather than later.
“You’ll have to leave all of your enchanted gear on the ship.” ZEKE said as they neared the shore. “The mace is a work of art, but otherwise unenchanted. Everything else has to stay.”
“What about the bracer? And the scarf?” Alarion asked.
It was a good question.
Both items had been taken from him upon his return and given to the Ordinate quartermaster for study and review. Each had been the subject of immense speculation, though it was the bracer that had drawn most of the attention. System ranked items without magical properties, such as the scarf, were rare but not unheard of. An unranked item that granted Attribute points at no attunement cost was something else entirely.
The quartermaster had spent days investigating the bracer, to no avail. By all appearances it was fully unenchanted, it did not provide feedback to magical energy or any attunement period to function. Given the nature of its source, he’d suggested that a skilled artificer might have been able to divine more from its inner workings, but without one on the island there was little to be done.
As much as the Governor had wanted to keep the item for that study, Vitrian laws on ownership of dropped loot were very clear.
ZEKE considered the issue long and hard before he decided. “Leave the bracer. Out of an abundance of caution. Your scarf can stay. There should be replacement shoes under your seat.”
“And my sash?”
“What about your-” ZEKE stopped himself as he looked to Alarion’s waist. The sash lay just under the hem of Alarion’s vest, a long bit of silken black fabric, heavily embroidered with fiendish white motifs. “Where did you get that?”
The young man didn’t look to ZEKE as he answered, too busy tugging at the laces of his Blackstone Bracer. “I had an unfinished quest. Hunting Season. For killing fiends.”
“And you did not think to mention this?” ZEKE seethed.
Alarion only shrugged. “I forgot.”
“Unbelievable.” The machine muttered, before working his way through an [Inspect Item] spell.
> Sash of Fiendish Regeneration [Uncommon](Rank I)
>
> Description: A long black sash embroidered with the visage of twenty-three slain fiends.
>
> Requirements: None
>
> Attunement Cost: 12 points.
>
> Type: Belt/Sash
>
> Enchantment: Increase HP regeneration by 5%. Increase the healing rate of all conditions below the rank of Severe by 50%.
>
> Ability Bonuses: +8 VIT.
“Obviously that has to stay.” ZEKE said, after reviewing the information.
Alarion finished pulling free the laces of his bracer, then looked at ZEKE expectantly. The machine tilted his head, waiting for the boy to speak, to voice his concerns. Then it clicked.
“Oh for-” The Steelborn looked to the sailor as the latter finished pulling in his oars. “Your belt, please.”
“Excuse you?”
“Your belt. Now.” ZEKE insisted with a domineering annoyance Alarion had never heard from him. “It will be returned. Eventually.”
The man looked as though he were ready to fight on the issue, but something about ZEKE’s posture or his outstretched hand made him rethink the matter. He stood, grumbled, and freed the simple leather belt before tossing it to Alarion.
With the matter settled, the three Awakened stepped out onto the shores of the Stone Isle.
Up close, there was more to the island than appeared at a distance. Green sprouted through every crack and crevice in the stone, lining the stairway that took them up the jagged hillside. There were few animals here, only a small smattering of birds and insects, but it felt infinitely more alive than the lush, infected forest of the fiend’s home.
Markers dotted the pathway wherever the stairs ended, fluttering red ribbons always guiding them toward the next set of stairs that took them further and further into the depths of the island. The sharpest of the peaks rose higher around them as they ascended into their midst, leaving them in the shade as they sought the island’s interior.
After nearly thirty minutes of walking, ZEKE winced. It was a flinch in his body language, slight enough that it might have gone unnoticed. Had Sierra not issued a quiet hiss of pain a few steps later.
“Are you okay?” Alarion glanced back over his shoulder to find Sierra holding her hand to her head. She was squeezing slightly, as though she were pushing back against something.
“She is fine. We’re almost there,” ZEKE said without concern. “Your discomfort isn’t too severe?”
Alarion cocked his head, then shook it slowly. “No. I’m alright.”
“Hmm.” There was a note of surprise in ZEKE’s tone, but any follow-up was lost as they crested one final ridge to see a circular clearing below.
Roughly half a mile wide, the basin was home to a small cabin, a familiar looking training yard, a few tents, innumerable training dummies and two individuals. Elena was there, of course, but Alarion was surprised to see her husband alongside her. The former waved up as she saw them, starting toward the bottom of the slope to meet them as they descended.
“Alarion!” She said with a smile. Then, to his surprise, she reached for him. The embrace was quick but snug, her arms squeezing him tightly as he stood awkwardly with a huge mace resting on one shoulder. “I am glad to see you have recovered.”
“Y-yeah.” His smile was thin as she released him, but it was there nonetheless.
“Come, set your things down and let us get started. You will be staying here for a few days at least, so we have set up some accommodations, but if we are not needed then you’ll be able to take the cabin.” Elena hustled them along while her husband remained seated by the building, pouring over an open journal.
“Why is the governor here?” Sierra asked.
A frown touched Elena’s eyes, but not quite her lips as she glanced toward the stern man. “Between you Ezekial and myself, we cover the majority of the affinities. Dar has two we do not, particularly stubborn ones at that. He is not likely to be needed, but if Alarion matches his affinities, it would be best to have him on hand rather than having to send for him to join us. He is not happy about taking the time away.”
“Which means the sooner we get started…”
Elena nodded firmly. “Yes, the sooner we rule him out, the better.”