I find myself back in the room that I slumbered in once. The room is shrouded in complete darkness if it weren’t for the single candle carrying on the job of the sun in its place. I closed the door behind me to trap myself in my much-needed silence; my poor deafened ears were in need of a break right now.
To describe the debauchery and depravity of the party of my naming. I need you to imagine one of those excessive party montages from Wolf Of Wall Street except instead that it has biologically stronger people, the existence of magic, a bigger assortment of drugs with little to no harmful effect, and to top it all off, an alcohol producing cow that can milk (brew?) itself. I wish I was making this shit up.
I never thought they already surpassed my previous governors, leaders, and corporate conglomerates. This behavior is of unknown origin to me, but I would think they would actually keep this a secret. A part of me wants to believe that they showed me now rather than later to avoid a worse confrontation of this Truth yet, one side thinks it was just so engraved into them to them they simply didn’t care about whether I was there or not. Chances are that it was a bit of both.
They used my appearance as an excuse to celebrate as they pleased. I stayed away from the party in general and its fun activities like some other leaders did. The King was one of these people if I need to remember. No, normally people wouldn’t be so open to helping so they might have a sort of safety measure that was made to make me keep my word. This thought is far from comforting and I wouldn’t like to dwell on it for too long on the time of my rest.
In my room, I locate several items of interest: new clothing to wear for tomorrow, sleepwear for immediate use, and a pamphlet. It seems to be the general information on the summoned Heros, and I decide to read it for thirty minutes because my need for sleep is heavily inhibiting my logic and reason.
Some important details are that Heros are bestowed five by one of the major twelve major gods; they will discover these relatively quickly if they do their job properly. It seems that these twelve higher Gods are also the reason why Heros was ever a thing, to begin with. They bring Heros here themselves through their own power. In this process, they reconstruct the body for the body to fit in this reality. This entire summoning was actually more lottery in nature than I thought. Even if a kingdom is small, as long as a higher God decided to summon them on the summoning stone it was all good. This summoning stone I’m referring to was actually that stone table I laid on last night.
I finished reading through the pamphlet with ten minutes to spare and I take a glance at the pillow that I used last night. My memory nags at me to check the underside of the pillow. I stick my hand under the pillow to check if a certain item still remained where it was left.
I feel the solid object which brings me to realize that the tooth fairy (Maids) didn’t clean the room, instead, they only left a few things and everything else was left as is. I leave the pill in the pocket of the new day’s clothing; the strangest things can come in handy so I decided to keep it just in case. I change into my pajamas: they were quite comfortable, there was no real pattern though.
I lay my head on the pillow to indulge my want to sleep as I close my eyes. I open my eyes to find myself in that strange place again. This time, I am stood up in anatomical position without being able to do anything, for two hours. After one-half of an hour later I decide to try to do something.
I try to control my own body but my endeavor boils down to the same result as the last time I tried to take control of my body in this place, so I give up. I gave it another go after what I believe to be three more hours because the boredom was starting to be a problem with my psyche. This boredom reliever continues for a total of four hours until it bore any actual fruit.
In hour one I could twitch a single finger. Hour two gave me full control of all of my ten fingers with the added boon of my moving toes. Hour three and a half gave me control from my hand to my wrist and feet to ankles. At four I could move my elbow robotically. I did the same for my knees, and ended up with my face flat on the floor and begin to think about taking back my thanks to the floor from last time.
I ultimately decided against taking back my apologies. I renew my attempts to move with a newfound better reason to start moving again: My face hurts, and it’s cold down here.
After some uncounted hours pass (I stopped counting by eighteen) I took control of my limbs although not perfectly. There is a delay between my thoughts and actions, I am not completely synced to my body so it may lead to a…
*Slam.*
...freefall. Specifically to the face. It has passed my mind why I fall on my face, but I have continuously fallen on my face so many times I question if my own body is out to get me.
After beginning to pick myself up from the ground to my right of the lower shelf I recognize a familiar book. It is especially recognizable because I just read it just this night.
After making a few unsynchronised steps to reach and check the contents of the book, I began to read the pamphlet. The pages fly and flutter to reveal the exact same text. This might be connected with one of my unawakened. If I thought about this further, the entire experience was probably connected to the ⌈skills⌋ mentioned by the text of the book, however, it seems more likely that two different stages of my skill happen to be working in accidental tandem.
If that is the case, it happens to be favorable to my prospects of surviving if used properly. I try to find another book to maybe further confirm some of these theories; I find a familiar and personal favorite of mine in this dream-like place that starts with a C and ends with a 2 made by someone who has a name that rhymes with Yosef Dweller.
I read the first chapter and it was the same lines I remembered. I closed the book in the hope to sort out my current stance on the entire situation, but everything begins to draw towards me as I’m forced out with my clear surprise.
I open my eyes in the cold sweat of my sudden awakening. I couldn't remember what I was dreaming about earlier, bits and pieces of it were here and there, but I still didn't have anything near a convincing thesis paper. I have the idea that whatever this thing might be, it could hold a good advantage, but it seems to be unusable to me at the moment.
I decide to pay more attention to this stuff later because I have some new otherworldly duties to undertake. I begin to equip the prepared clothing for the day confirming that the pill I hid stayed where it belonged. I should leave it somewhere safer soon as I don’t really find my pockets secure enough in this situation.
To describe the clothing I’m currently wearing, it would be like the corsets from the medieval age. It doesn’t have a clear indication of what it is to me, it could be the wear of a mage’s apprentice or a knight in training and I wouldn’t know any better. I change into the suggested outfit.
Opening the door I find the knight that is to escort me to my training area. We pass through the uninteresting halls of the kingdom until we stop in front of a singular tower. The knight stops at the door to signal the clear message that I need to enter the Gandalf-like tower. I follow his unsaid suggestion and open door. Inside, it reveals a massive winding staircase of a grand degree. I then take the action that would destroy the romance of winding staircases; I proceed to use them to get to the higher floor.
After a solid thirty minutes of mindless walking; I arrive at my presumed destination. It is a decently wide room of a circular structure; It contained an assortment of chairs, tables, and even a judge’s podium (this one caught me a bit off-guard). In the middle of me observing the room in all of its awkward reverence, an unwarranted amount of people began to enter this room.
Most of them have strange features like cat ears, scales, and one was straight up on fire. They all began to take a seat in their respective seats. Fire dude was sitting on an unignited wooden chair without it bursting into flames, bringing me to further believe the phenomenon of magic in this world.
“Welcome Hero, we are the council of El Duende”, says the moderately young looking man sitting in the gavel-less podium, ”We are the royal magicians of the United Minds. Our goal is to find the amazing secrets of magic, and to guide magicians to the right path”.
Seeing this spectacle, I calmly proceed to ask, ”And how am I supposed to do this exactly?”
This is a genuine concern of mine because I seriously doubt that magic will be something easily mastered, Hero or not.
“Do not worry,” resounds the man in the judge’s seat, ”Today we will only measure your amount of magic by giving you a fog staff.”
On cue, a staff gradually floats from the audience of the mages to a place close to me to invite me to grab it. I did so and then heard my next instructions to gaining aptitude with magic.
“Attempt to pour you mana into the staff”, explained the young man, ”It will produce a fog where we can judge your capabilities.”
I stand in the center for a good minute until they understand that their explanation wasn’t sufficient enough to be put into practical use. I presume all of these were magical geniuses of some sort because they all seem to have gone off to their own world wondering how to explain what was breathing for them. This goes on until the flaming person of previous note begins to explain after no one else seemed to be up for the challenge.
“I don’t know how it may have been in your past world,” Sparky (until further information) sternly states, ”But right now there is an undeniable force inside your body. This power comes from multiple sources known as aspects and magic is all about the use of this power. Through it, you can will the object to consume your mana to use it.”
It doesn’t answer everything, but it is much better than the ‘just do it’. It takes some effort to move this mana (it is similar to how I moved to ⌈Dream Scape⌋) and I let the staff 'consume' my magic and…
[POOF]
I quickly open my eyes to find myself in the library again, which prompts the following question in my mind. What the fuck did I just do?
Amil: 1st perspective → ???: 1st perspective.
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I am the great mage known as one of the elusive Magi: Jonah Harbor of El Duende. I am now responsible for this kid’s magic tutoring so I pass him the fog staff through magical means to inspire wonder and a future in magic or what not. To reveal the truth, I don’t want to teach this kid at all. I’m all for making disposable pawns for myself, but I'm not too passionate about making someone stronger than me. There are enough people like that as it is. I can’t directly go against these orders sadly, that king would hunt me down for sure, there is no doubt. So I drop the obvious and tell him what he needs to do.
“Attempt to pour you mana into the staff,” I explained, ”It will produce a fog where we can judge your capabilities.”
I wait for the results, but nothing happens. He stands there doing nothing like a hapless sheep. I then realize that this man doesn’t have any idea what to do with my information. This realization begins to infuriate me to the point that I want to shock the Hero with a bit of lightning magic.
Of course, I think all of this in a completely neutral face, I can’t show my struggle to my subordinates as they would take advantage of it if given the chance. This entire farce continues until my right hand in command takes control of the situation himself.
“I don’t know how it may have been in your past world,” Smolder sternly states, ”But right now there is an undeniable force inside your body. This power comes from multiple sources known as aspects. Magic is an art for the purpose of expressing that force into the physical world. Through it, you can will the object to consume your mana to use it.”
The kid holds his face as if he harbored any more questions, however, he decides that it was enough and tries to control his mana. Oi, how was it that you understand my direct subordinate, yet not my wonderful explanation? I don’t ever want to understand this whelp.
I then hear the light-hearted *Poof.* from the staff that was inserted as a joke. What came next was anything from a light-hearted joke. The staff grasped a hold of his mana and just exploded!
The reason why we choose the fog staff as a capability measure is that is the least damaging and the most modifiable. We modified it to take much more mana to have it produce a small amount of the cloud. He overloaded it to the point that the staff itself turned into fog itself!
This doesn’t even begin to compare to the wind that we had to face! We had to put up some high-level barriers so that we wouldn’t suffocate, That fucker! I began to march down to accidentally end his life until I was assaulted by a burning sensation.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
“You will not kill him!”, shouts Smolder vehemently, ”He is a valuable asset to the country, and if he is harmed you will lose more than just your rank.”
“Like I care about that! This fucker can be a problem for us all!” I snarkily reply, ”Besides how exactly are you going to stop me!?”
“Don’t underestimate me. I am more than willing to end your life for the good of the kingdom,” he responds in a coolness that contradicts the flames spewing from his body.
Shit! He fucking means it too! This is why I fucking abhor fanatics!
After calming down and returning to what remained of my seat, I state firmly, ”Get him the fuck out of here! I don’t want to so as much see him, much less even teach him! No one in this organization will do as much direct help with intent! That goes double for you Smolder! No, make it triple!”
It's moments like these that make me think that all the Gold in this entire kingdom is far from enough to make me do this job. I entirely regret and resent my decision to work here! I’ve done enough for the King I eagerly await the end of this kingdom!
Jonah Harbor: 1st perspective → Amil: 1st perspective.
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I took my time to read in wherever I was as I decided to catch up on another book. This one is named The Businessman Behind the Presidency that was released in early 2021. It was a book that showed the marvel of human stupidity and the possible repercussions, and hilarity of it.
Oh. Something must have happened on the outside, this location doesn’t usually just start breaking apart unless there is outside interference. Then again it’s not like I would know, this is my assumption. Knowing what your skill doesn’t give you all the information. One still to do a hefty amount of experimentation to further understand its side effects, be it beneficial or harmful.
I find myself awake atop a stretcher of some sort. It was surprising to find that there was no sort of fatigue. Above me stands a rather attractive looking man wearing a leather tunic.
“Are you awake? I was starting to get worried,” says a grinning man.
Proposing a genuine concern of mine, I ask, “Are you an Angel?”
“Nope. I’m your doctor. Even better,” he says with a bit of a sly grin.
If he is the doctor then I guess I have to be in some sort of healing facility, it only makes sense. I try to recollect my body from where it left off. I begin to lift myself off the bed to leave my feet on the ground.
“In any case what happened?”
“You seem to have pissed off the leader so he isn’t willing to teach you anymore.”
“Then does that mean I have to give up on magic? It might be too much, but I am deeply curious about this subject.”
“You needn’t worry. You will have to be somewhat self-taught now, but that shouldn’t be a major problem, to begin with,” he says with a quirky smile.
“Alright if that’s the case, Is there anything I should know?”
“You probably shouldn't touch a magic staff or any item that involves having to use your mana in your future lessons.”
“Why is that? I find it hard to think magicians of any sort wouldn’t use any staff,” I say with a sarcastic smile plastered on my face.
He then, nonchalantly stated, “But we wouldn’t want you to blow up. Something about your mana ends up overloading the magic staff, or so it goes…”
He then motions and mimics the sound of an explosion. Sugar honey ice tea! This gesture leaves me with my mouth open. If I learned this too late I might not be here right now! I make the mental note to never underestimate magic unless I suddenly gained an unlikely death wish.
“I see. I will make a note of that detail,” I respond stuttering.
“Since you are not needed elsewhere you can take your time to explore the palace”
“Then I’ll be on my way.”
I was glad that I just got a bit of free choice. Within the confines of a huge sandbox, but a free choice nonetheless. I begin to explore the Palace and marvel at its beauty. If I had to describe the place, it really exudes a European vibe from back in my world. Wait a moment.
After further thought, it really is a European landscape. There is no doubt in my mind of this fact. I also have the great urge to call it very Spanish, but as I didn't have the memories to remember what Spanish even consisted of, I quickly dropped the thought in favor of more useful questions.
The real question I should be asking now is, how did this happen? Did the previous Heroes spread the design, and it caught on? Did the entities somehow shape human knowledge to do so? There still lays the chance that this is all a coincidence, but that still doesn’t clear my suspicion.
I continue my attempt to immaculate an answer from the confines of concepts as I continue to keep walking through the halls. This goes on until I reach a place that has given me personal peace, comfort, silence, and content. I seem to have stumbled upon the palace’s library, and I am more than just a curious onlooker. I resemble an overexcited child who had just found the playground. My face begins to brighten up with a clear enthusiasm, which prompts my face to make the biggest grin humanly possible. I enter the library.
Before me, there is a site that would bring me to tears if I really let it. I get euphoric just being near so many books! It comes to my perspective that I really lucked out with having books as a huge hobby of mine back then, If I was addicted to T.V., I would have surely gone crazy. No need to worry though, I focused my love on running, performing, and reading. I move to ask (persuade) the librarian to let me read the books.
I meet what seems to be the librarian. It is a woman that seems to be in her 50s wearing an elegant dress. There are spectacles on her rugged face, as if its own miniature mountain, and crevice. She raises her face and begins to smile. It was a business smile that only saw me as a customer, not a person.
“Hello, what do you do here? May I be of service?” She says professionally, “I believe we haven’t met before.”
“I would like to know if I can read the books,” I state forthcomingly. “It would be great if I could get immediate approval please.”
I am much more direct than usual, but that is only natural when it is about books, me, and the chance of reading them.
With a clear apprehension to my request, she states, ”I see sir, but I can’t exactly do anything about that.”
She empathizes this fact by wearing a bitter smile on her face.
“I need to read. If I don’t. I will blow up”, I slowly state; menacingly.
I don’t mean any real harm towards this lady, but backing away isn’t an option. This lady’s opinion of me dwarfs my want, my need to read away all of this stress away. I am a bibliophile through and through. If you need further proof, my friends would be more than willing to attest.
The lady flinches back from my threat for the smaller cause, and replies, ”If you would like to read. I suggest that you take the farther corner to avoid any unnecessary or any unwanted attention.” She says this all in a trembling voice. The back of my mind ponders if I overdid it, but, that notion was dashed when I realized I could read now.
“Thank you. I hope we can have a good relationship.”
I run to the corner with a big smile in the hope of a much-needed stress reliever. While running I see the librarian hold an expression of fear. It is no longer my problem. I got what I needed, and I left. It was that simple.
Hours pass as I indulge in all the books that surround me. Choosing books detailing this world. I learn and collect plenty of relevant information that will matter in my stay. Specifically Dungeons. There are things called Dungeons in this world. There are many different types of Dungeons as well.
Some are more humble ones that only seem to take root in the underground. This led to these Dungeons being called Roots. They change the structure and generate monsters. These ones can lead to monster outbreaks. Roots disappear when someone claims the treasure in the deepest floor.
This seems to be a trait that most Dungeons are modeled after, because more likely or not; most Dungeons disappear after the main treasure are claimed. There seem to be variants where you have to subjugate a certain, while others just continue running, regenerating the treasure in a couple of days or so. There are two types of Dungeons that disappear without fail though. The aforementioned Roots, and the Grand Dungeons. Not much is known about Grand Dungeons besides the understanding of the amazing benefits of conquering one.
I finish my last book totaling about 6 books today. I place everything back where they came from. I look out through the window to see a setting sun. No matter how I look at it, even with so many hours. I find it hard to believe that I could finish that many books in so little time. It probably has something to do with a dormant skill, I’ll have to investigate that a later date.
I take my steps back to my room so I can make tonight’s sleeping schedule. I open the door which reveals some interesting baubles with a note on the nightstand. These baubles are comprised of a ring, several vials with unknown substances, and a silver looking seax. A form of Latin seems to be inscribed on the hilt of the blade. My interest in the seax grows to the point where I unsheathe it to find its edge. I find more of this Latin on the sides of the blade and then…
*Drip.*
No blood dripped from my finger nor a sense of any pain that remained. It quickly regenerated and ceased to leave any trace of its existence. The pain hurts but quickly dissipated.
I cut my finger to check its efficiency in its job, stabbing people, and slicing on the side. I am more than aware that I could have just made a terrible decision. I could have accidentally ended my life in a very stupid way. Well, I can’t waste any more time on the possibility of my untimely demise. I still found out that it is the real deal though.
{Dear Amil,
We have taken into consideration your circumstances and apologize for the behavior of our court magician. Even so, we cannot secure you a living mage willing to teach you thanks to his actions. In our deepest apologies, we are giving you a new instructor to a more open range of subjects, free access to all the royal library, and the useful items place near this note.
The ring is a storage device. You simply need to think which object you would like to store. Before you ask, It will not explode like the previous one. You can not store an item if someone’s thoughts on logical ownership clash with your ring. You can’t steal the property of others with this ring.
The vials are refined potions to be used for your benefit, and yours alone. The red potion will redistribute blood into your body while closing your wounds. The green potion will revitalize physical stamina, eliminating fatigue. The blue potion is responsible for healing the mental fatigue that comes with a stressed and burdened mind. I hope you will use these potions wisely.
Lastly is a unique dagger called Damage Debtor. We have set you to be its owner. It has properties that don't allow permanent damage to be done by its owner. It also has a type of «Form Fitting» which adjusts it to one's measurements. There is a possibility of more attributes or traits we are unaware of so look forward to the future. I pray that it is useful to you for the future.
Sincerely, United Minds}
Wasn’t it more accurate to call this note rather than a letter? It does explain why my wound immediately regenerated after cutting my finger a bit. That helps.
I put the ring on my finger like a bride, and attempt to use it. A new option pops into my brain as I suddenly view a space about the size of a squared storage shed. 8x8x10 to be exact.
I begin to will the potions into the free space. But nothing happens. I make a second attempt while holding the potions in the hand that contains the ring. This time, after a bit of grabbing, the potions disappear from the nightstand and now reside inside the space currently viewed inside my mind. I grab into my pocket to find the pill. I close my hand to the point where the pill is no longer visible. I feel it disappear, knowing where I sent it. You never know when something can come in handy.
I decided that this was enough for the end of the day. I switch into the Pajamas that I wore the other night. I lay on the bed to say farewell the rest of the day.
I open my eyes to realize that I was in that place once again. I jerked my leg to see that I still have full control of my body. Improvements are nice, aren’t they? Especially since last time took so long to just maneuver my fingers, effectively axing a fine portion of time that could have been spent furthering my knowledge of the place. I browse through the wide array of available books that I may have encountered in the past, leading to the unlikely encounter of books that I've already read here. I continue reading in this manner until I settle in reading one of the books I don't explicitly recognize, prompting me to deeply immerse myself in the following narrative.
It is the story of a twelve-year-old trying to survive in the nation known as America. He lived on the streets with very little food. He was so deprived of food that to him, crumbs were considered to be a decent harvest. An entire slice of bread was a feast. The Boy didn’t mind though. He lived this lifestyle so long he knew he wouldn't mind it unless he gave up.
He had to do his usual begging, as someone of his age doesn’t really get too many opportunities at job interviews, much less actually paid work. These are your chances in the land of opportunity. A girl from the side of the street stared at the boy with bewilderment akin to a child. Which made sense, as she was twelve herself. Like everyone else though, she quickly walked away like everyone else on the street. Nothing new.
A couple of days continue to pass by uneventfully. He switched a couple of times to appeal to more people. That was the case until he was by the police.
“What are you doing here kid,” said an officer?
“Existing,” replies the boy in a nonchalant manner.
The officer recoiled just a bit at the surprise of having to listen to a child say something so dreary, at least until he returned to his work persona. “Well. You can’t do that like this,” the officer said raising his hand to offer him some sort of false sense of security.
The boy knew better than to take the officer’s hand, like his word. He understood that they would only put him back in a weird daycare where no one would dare to choose him if they realized who he was.
The boy runs with all the energy he can muster, as this is an amazing trade-off compared to going back. The officer pursuits after him with good intentions, but bad offers. In front of the running boy lied an edge.
What should have slackened his pace quickens him. It offered escape, why wouldn’t he run as if his life depended on it? If he lived, he could continue to live with his limited options of freedom. If he died, he wouldn’t need to live in this world anymore. The boy takes the leap, hoping for a sunny day...
*Crack.*
...preparing for a rainy day.
The boy looks at his newly crack leg. It lied on the cold cement motionless. It looked like a snapped twig. A snapped scrawny twig that leaked a thick red liquid of a pungent smell. The pain would have rendered him unconscious if it weren’t for the boy’s immense desire to see his own demise. He learned at a young age, you must never turn your back on a dead body. The boy added his own touch with his ‘even your own’. He didn’t want to wake up realizing he wasn’t dead after he eagerly waited.
Waiting for his precious minutes to finally waste away. Right then and there he sees the face of a girl. She was blurred from the last time he saw her but held no doubt that it was her. The boy questions why he has to see this face.
The girl puts her hand forward and states, ”Would you like to join my family?”
The boy was absolutely astounded at this development. A young girl of twelve was able to say something like that to a child bleeding out on the floor with genuine emotion.
“Ha… HAHAHAHAHAHA”
The boy lets out a manic laugh, his final tethers to sanity fall apart. Evident in his incessant laughter. As he laughs away the irrationality of the situation, tears drop on the floor. This shows the dissonance of his emotion and logic. His tears are overshadowed by the increasingly bigger pool of blood. Despite that, the girl put on a deeper smile, as if the scene unfolding in front of her was a heartwarming moment.
This entire scenario played in my mind. It was a strange memory, the characters don’t have a working brain this one. I would know better than anyone because I was there. I was the one that remembered this moment in my life. One of the memories that I seemed to have retained on my arrival.
Yes, I was the previously mentioned boy. It seems back then, whatever that meant, I wasn’t fully sane at the time, possibly because of my circumstances. What irks me more is how much of that moment I remember. Some might think that a newly made amnesiac shouldn't be someone to say whether memory is complete or not, but trauma isn't the type of wound that fades away. It is the scar on will always retain.
I speak aloud to the spacious room, in hope of some sort of answer.