“Clothes?” Pel looked down at himself. That’s right, Clovers clothes broke down when Shieldy grabbed me and threw me in the lantern. He looked down to Godrick who was dragging Shieldy’s body toward the wagons and doing his best see Pel without looking at him.

“Fairies don’t always wear clothes,” Pel said, feeling surprisingly ok with his nudity. “I don’t even have any dangly bits, just butt cheeks!”

“Well, out here in the real world away from the trees and forests, clothing is mandatory,” Godrick said. “Unless you’re a beast, or an animal companion of some type.”

“I don’t have any clothes that I could put on,” Pel shrugged. “Maybe one of the people still in the wagon can make clothes? Can you make clothes?”

“I cannot,” Godrick shook his head.

“Well, lets see if you can understand what they’re saying,” Pel pointed toward the wagon. “I only know Fairese and English.”

“English? I’ve never heard of English,” Godrick said.

“What do you call the language we’re speaking right now?” Pel asked.

“This? This is Interkingdom Common,” Godrick replied. “Actually, how do you know this?” He stopped dragging the corpse to turn and look at Pel. “I wasn’t aware there were Fairies trained in I.C. I thought it was a Human thing?”

“Well, um, we have a trading post set up in the southern part of the…Metria forest,” Pel covered. Why am I lying? “I learned it during…trade training!” Isn’t reincarnation supposed to be a thing people already know happens? “Instructor Ino had us learn Eng- Interkingdom Common so we could…widen our trade?” Stupid! ‘Trade training’ and ‘widen our trade’? Really? He’s never gonna believe that!

“Wow, you learned to speak I.C. in a week?” Godrick said surprised. “How’d you manage that?”

“I, uh, was born with high Willpower and Clarity,” Pel said. “I’m not sure what a Human is born with, but Fairies are born fully grown.”

“Huh,” Godrick let out as he started dragging the corpse again. “Didn’t know that. Pretty lucky you learned something other than Fairese, though. Otherwise, I probably would have kept trying to slay you!”

“Yea, good thing,” Pel said, relieved that he wasn’t going to push it. I wonder if he believes that or not?

The people in the wagon were calling out to Godrick, several pairs of dirty hands were waving through the bars. Godrick shouted something back and propped Shieldy’s body up against a wagon wheel. He walked toward the back of the wagon as Pel followed along from above, still just outside of Godrick’s sword range just in case. The rear door to the wagon was secured by a large, black metal padlock.

Godrick pulled his sword out and attempted to bash it with his pommel but that only created some sparks. He spoke a few words to the captives, who answered back uncertainly.

“Fairy, do you know where the key is for this?” Godrick asked.

“No,” Pel shook his head. “My guess would be either on Shieldy or Stabby. I doubt they gave it to Blowhard, but if the other two bodies don’t have it, he might. If none of the above, then the other two will be carrying it.”

Godrick hummed, walking back to the side of the cart to check Shieldy’s body.

“Why the names?” Godrick asked as he emptied pouches.

“Names?” Pel questioned.

“Shieldy, Stabby, and the others,” Godrick clarified.

“Oh. Well, I never knew their names,” Pel shrugged. “I just called them what they seemed like. Shieldy had a shield, Stabby was mean and used knives, Blowhard uses a blowgun, and so on for the whole group.”

“What did you call me before I told you my name?” Godrick asked.

“I didn’t have time to come up with one,” Pel replied. “You pretty much just stabbed a guy through the face, then waved a sword at me, and then introductions were made.” Godrick finished checking Shieldy’s body, finding nothing in the pouches or tucked away under his armor. “Shieldy was already taken, and Stabby was already in use too. I’m not sure what it would have been.” Pel continued thinking about it as he followed Godrick to Stabby’s body.

“Maybe…Justice Man?” Pel thought aloud. “Ooo, maybe Sword Feeder! Or Tasty Boy! No, probably not that one. Swordmouth? No, that’s bad too. Yea, probably Justice Man.”

“I like that one,” Godrick smiled as he rolled Stabby’s body over from where it had collapsed beside the now shattered crate. “Ah, here,” he pulled a leather string out from under Stabby’s shirt which threaded through a ring on the end of a key.

“I have an idea for the ambush, by the way,” Pel said as Godrick walked back to the rear of the wagon with the key. “We need three big people to pretend to be the three dead ones. When the other two get back to camp everyone just waits by the fire until they get close enough to jump.”

“I don’t know if I’d like pretending to be an evil man,” Godrick muttered as he stuck the key into the lock. “Let’s see if anyone in here is even in good enough condition to participate first.”

The lock sprung open, Godrick removed it and threw it into the dirt with disgust. Pel flew down a little closer for a better view as the rear door slowly creaked open. Peeking over Godrick’s shoulder Pel could see inside the dark interior. Five disheveled, slightly emaciated Humans were kneeling around the now open door, the desperate gratitude etched into their teary faces was plain to see. As one they lunged forward toward Godrick, causing Pel to retreat further into the air in surprise. Instead of an attack, though, they grabbed onto Godrick like a lifeline at sea.

Everyone started talking over each other at once, what they were saying Pel had no idea and the language didn’t sound like what the slavers spoke. Godrick put on a bright smile as he spoke back softly, patting shoulders and shaking hands. He kinda does look like a hero right now. Between the pearly white smile, the kind blue eyes peering out from under his chainmail coif, and his straight backed, confident posture he looked every inch the brave young knight Pel imagined King Arthur looked like when he first started out. Except King Arthur probably had brown eyes.

“They’re asking for food,” Godrick said, switching back to Interkingdom Common, “is there any here in camp?”

“Probably up in the crates on top of the wagon,” Pel pointed over Godrick’s head. “But that’s likely what the other two bad guys left camp to get if I had to guess.” He looked toward the setting sun, barely 30 minutes of light left before it buried itself below the horizon. The smell of stale sweat, bodily functions, and skin rashes wafted into Pel’s nose like a physical wall of spikes from the freed Humans and the open wagon. He immediately retreated another couple meters to fresh air. Again, with the breathing, I don’t need to breathe! Stop it!

“Do you know if there are any potions? They have minor wounds that need to be healed, and they’re all suffering from exhaustion,” Godrick asked as he broke free of their grasping hands and began climbing up the wagon toward the crates.

“I don’t know if they carried any potions,” Pel said. “Maybe in the crates? Shieldy has a large satchel around here somewhere, maybe in that?” The freed Humans were stumbling on shaky legs into the fresh air, eyes closed and taking clean, deep breaths. Of the five, three were male and two were female. Each of the men was dressed in rough spun tunics of various washed-out colors, sporting holes and fraying edges over tight fitted pants and worn-out brown shoes. The women wore wrinkled gowns of the same coarse material, and every person was wearing some kind of knitted hat or cap that covered their hair.

Godrick announced something from the top of the wagon, holding up several wrapped parcels and waving them at the people below. The relief and happiness on their faces from being freed was replaced by ravenous hunger. They took the food from Godrick, ripping it open with wild abandon they began to eat the salted meat with zeal. Godrick continued rummaging through the crates, and jumped down with a jangling thud after finding nothing else of use.

“Where might that satchel be?” Godrick asked as he scanned the camp.

“The seat on the other cart lifts up,” Pel pointed, “it’s probably stored in there.”

Godrick walked over to investigate the other cart as Pel began scanning the horizon for Bowman and Slaver, but there was still no sign.

“We should probably get a fire going before it gets any darker,” Pel called over to Godrick who was still throwing blankets and dirty clothes onto the ground.

“Aha!” Godrick pulled the satchel from the cart and kicked his way through the blankets at his feet as he made his way back toward the other Humans.

“Oh, before I forget,” Pel mentioned to Godrick, “can any of them make me clothes?”

“I’ll ask, hold on a moment first, though, I want to see if there are potions for them in here,” Godrick replied, hefting the satchel by the shoulder strap. He set the bag down on the seat of the slave wagon, untying the leather strings keeping it closed and threw the top flap open. He began removing various trinkets, pouches, and bundles from within as he searched for potions.

“I’m pretty sure one of those pouches is magic,” Pel said while drifting closer to the growing pile of items. “Bowman stuffed a whole panther skin into one on the night they kidnapped me.”

“Kidnapped you?” Godrick asked, glancing up at Pel.

“Yea, I’m only like…I’m not sure. Five weeks old?” Pel wondered aloud. “I spent more time in that lantern than with my family.”

“I’m sad that happened,” Godrick said, turning back to the satchel. “But I’m pretty sure magical creatures can’t be kidnapped. Only captured.”

“What? So what if I’m made of magic!” Pel said hotly. “I’m still a person! I was totally kidnapped!”

“According to law, you aren’t considered a person,” Godrick replied. “Maybe a pet, or a companion if you got registered.”

“That’s messed up.” Pel said. “I’m just as much of a person as a Human is! The only difference is that you’re all freakishly gigantic and made of meat, and Fairies are normal sized and made of Mana.”

Godrick scoffed. “Most people are normal sized, except the Dwarves who are about two thirds as tall as Humans.” He finished emptying the satchel and began opening the handful of pouches one by one. “You’re classified as a ‘Magical Creature’.” Godrick emptied all the pouches, most of which contained copper and silver coins along with other odds and ends. The last pouch was made of a smooth black fabric that shimmered slightly in the fading light. The top was closed with a silver drawstring capped with tassels.

Godrick untied the drawstring and pulled the pouch open to peer inside.

“Spatial Pouch, pretty good one too,” he said as he stuck his arm into it.

“Whoa, that’s got some serious Mary Poppins vibes,” Pel commented as he watched Godrick’s arm disappear up to the elbow inside a pouch which wasn’t much larger than a grapefruit.

“I don’t know what Mary Poppins is,” Godrick said offhandedly as he began pulling objects from the pouch which definitely had no right to fit in there, “or what ‘vibes’ are.” The panther skin fell to the ground in a heap, kicking up a small cloud of dust.

“Mary Poppins is a magical nanny, and vibes is a word used to describe the feeling that a person, place, thing, or even a situation can give you,” Pel explained. “That skin came from a panther that three of the slavers killed when I met them. I thought they were just hunters or something. Then they kidnapped me.”

Godrick made a noncommittal grunt and continued pulling animal skins and pieces of clothing from the pouch. Eventually, everything in the pouch was in a large pile on the ground, but no potions were found. Godrick sighed, and looked over to the people who were only just now finishing the food he’d given them. He looked down toward his waist and placed a hand on a pouch tied to his belt with a faraway, contemplative look. Godrick’s expression firmed with reluctant resolve, and he undid the strings to the pouch around his waist.

From within, he produced 6 glass bottles that Pel thought looked a bit like lightbulbs. Damn, does everyone have magic pouches here? Godrick rummaged through the pile of looted goods and produced a tunic which he then wrapped around the bottles.

“What are you doing?” Pel asked.

“Food isn’t enough to help them,” Godrick replied. “One meal isn’t going to rid them of their starving status, not to mention the exhaustion and other negative status effects they’re suffering from. They need a Priest, but my Health and Stamina potions will at least let them make it to one of the towns across the river.”

Pel remained silent, feeling a slight twinge of guilt at Godrick’s words. I could probably heal them partially. But who knows what someone might do? It’s clear Godrick doesn’t think of me as a person, the others probably don’t either. I really don’t want to get re-kidnapped.

“Alright, let’s see if anyone can make you some pants,” Godrick said, lifting the bundle of potions. He walked over to where the former slaves were standing, stretching out their arms and legs while chatting quietly.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

At Godrick’s approach they quieted down, facing him as one. They listened as Godrick said a few words, holding out the makeshift tunic bag for them to take. The back-and-forth conversation between the apprehensive yet hopeful group and the confidently smiling Godrick was short, ending with the group shaking their heads and receiving the potions from Godrick.

“Unless you can find needle and thread out here, nobody can make you any clothing,” Godrick said to Pel. “In the mean time I told them to take the potions and gather any wood they can find to build a fire. Now, what ideas did you say you had for the ambush again?”

“Ok, so, I was thinking that you could take Shieldy’s armor and pretend to be him,” Pel said. “Drape a blanket over your head and sit by the fire to wait for them to return. Maybe we can get two of the men to pretend to be the other two as well, otherwise we can lay the bodies down near the fire like they’re sleeping or something.”

“Hmm,” Godrick rubbed his perfect chin in contemplation.

Damn, he’s really good looking, Pel thought. With the chainmail coif framing his face, Godrick at least appeared to be genetically capable of the hero role, as far as square chins and chiseled jawlines went. Blue eyes too, but deep like an ocean. I wonder what color his hair is under there? He kinda looks like what I imagine Chris Pine would look like if Henry Cavil’s jaw invaded his face in the best way.

“It’s bad luck to wear the armor of the man you just killed, but I’m not good at coming up with tricky solutions,” Godrick announced. “None of the men here will be capable of putting up a fight against the slavers when they return, but covering the dead bodies with a blanket by the fire might be convincing for a few moments. I’ll go move the bodies. While I do that, can you please figure out something to wear?”

“Ugh, fine. I don’t see what the big deal is, though,” Pel said. Maybe there’s something clean enough to wear inside the storage box under the wagon seat? He flew over to the wagon he’d travelled in, noting how quiet the caged beasts were being. Many of them were looking at the bodies with hungry eyes and drooling mouths, but they all seemed to understand that Godrick was an imminent threat to their continued existence.

Luckily, Godrick had left the seat open for him to begin hunting for usable cloth. Maybe I can make a toga or something easy. Maybe a kilt? As Pel sifted through the blankets and bits of clothing in the compartment he amused himself with the idea of becoming a small, flying Scotsman in a kilt, yelling barely understandable English at Godrick. Perhaps even riding him into battle and playing bagpipes. I would need to find tiny bagpipes.

Pel found a grey tunic with a small gash surrounded by dark, dried blood. Most of cloth was pretty clean if he could just cut away the ruined section. He popped his head over the edge of the cart and spotted Godrick still stripping armor from Shieldy.

“You didn’t happen to find any sewing needles in any of those crates or pouches, did you?” Pel asked.

“Nope,” Godrick said, grunting as he finished stripping the pants off Shieldy.

Huh, could have sworn he had a tattoo on his butt cheek. Looking back down, Pel grabbed a corner of the tunic and summoned his wings. He flew upward until the tunic pulled free from the other bits of clothing, and then flew over toward one of the closed crates and dropped it on top of the lid. I bet they don’t have any Fairy sized scissors either.

“Hey Godrick, could you come cut this tunic into clothing sized pieces for me?” Pel asked.

“Let me finish here first,” he replied.

Okay, then. Guess I’ll just wait for one of the others to come back and help. Oh, I can’t talk to them. Damn language barrier. Pel looked around the camp briefly, perhaps there was a knife small enough he could use himself, but if there was, he couldn’t see it. Oh, right. Level 10! I can get a new Skill now!

Notifications

Congratulations, you've reached Level 10!

2X Attribute Points Awarded.

1x New Skill Slot Opened.

Please Select A Level 10 Skill.

Sweet, let’s see what Skills are available. On the main Self Help screen, a little plus button appeared at the top of the Skills section. Clicking that, Pel opened his Level 10 Skills list.

Racial Skill Selection

Please select one of the Racial Skills below!

[Sun Burn] – A weak light-beam attack that inflicts low amounts of heat damage to the target. May cause the target to ignite.

[Light Bending] – Some of the light that would touch your body is bent around it instead, causing you to become more difficult to see.

[Fairy Stitching] – You can stitch anything to any other thing! Some exceptions apply.

[Strobe Light] – You emit blinding flashes of light which cause temporary blindness in any who are close enough. May also cause disorientation.

Huh, a sewing skill and a strobe light. I thought for sure I’d get three new Skills to choose from, dang it. Pel considered the two new Skills. It looks like Skills are offered based on three things; my Fairy ‘type’, my needs, and my usage of the things I can already do. Pel had used his Mote form to distract the slavers many times, and now he had access to a dedicated Skill for doing so. Causing blindness and potential disorientation made it seem like a more powerful version of what he was already able to do naturally. It would be a waste to pick [Strobe Light], I can mostly do it on my own.

Pel was drawn toward the only attack Skill to show up so far, knowing that he was bound for another fight when they sprung the ambush. The only problem is…it’s probably going to be just as weak as my heal. Is something that weak even going to be effective against a Human?

“Hey, Godrick! How much health do you think those guys had?” Pel asked, pointing to the bodies on the ground.

Godrick stopped rubbing sand and dirt over the bloodstains on the armor he’d stripped from Shieldy.

“With Levels in the mid 20’s, I’d say between 250 and 400 depending on Class and how they assigned their Attribute points,” he said.

“That much? That’s bullshit!” Pel complained. “Even if I put all my points into Vitality for the next 15 Levels, I’d barely be over half of what your lowest estimate is.”

“Well, sure,” Godrick shrugged. “You’re very tiny after all.”

Fairies are bullshit! Pel looked back to his Skill offerings and regretfully decided not to pick up the attack Skill. I’d have to hit someone like, a hundred times to kill them. It’s completely impractical. Maybe when I’m higher Level something better will come along. Or maybe I can stuff enough points into Clarity to make the damage worthwhile.

Pel read over [Light Bending] again and likewise decided that picking up a skill that would only make him a little harder to see in his full form wasn’t currently worth his Skill slot. If it was total invisibility, then maybe. As I am now, I’m pretty hard to see when I’m a Mote and not shining. That’s good enough for now, which leaves [Fairy Stitching]. Pel read the Skill again, then a third time, and again a fourth time as his eyes started to squint more and more. It's a short description, but this Skill sounds like it could be broken.

Pel wondered if it really meant he could stitch literally any two things together. Not only could I make clothes, but I could also stitch someone’s shoes together. Or sew their sword into the scabbard, or stitch a door closed, or maybe even stitch a whole-ass person to the ground in their sleep! The more Pel thought, the more endless the opportunities seemed to be. With an evil chuckle Pel selected the [Fairy Stitching] Skill. Returning to his full Self Help screen he quickly assigned his Attribute points to Clarity and then looked at the bottom of his list to read the full Skill description for [Fairy Stitching].

Self Help Interface Name: Errapel Class/Race: Lesser Celestial Fairy Level:

10

Free AP: 0 Health: 58 (0.72/hr) [0.86/hr S.T.] AP Used: 20 Stamina: 59/82 (0.96/min) [1.15/min S.T.] Secrets Discovered: 7 Mana: 193/308 (6.8/min) [8.1/min S.T.] Things Stolen: 0 Attributes Points Added Score Description Charisma 0 6 Persuasiveness, Likeability, and chance to succeed with certain types of magic. Clarity 8 33

Perception, Thought, Mana, Regeneration, Magical Strength, Mental Resistance.

Dexterity 4 17

Dexterity, Agility, Movement/Attack Speed, Physical Efficiency, Precision.

Strength 0 1 Physical Strength, Lifting/Carrying Capacity. Vitality 8 14 Health, Stamina, Regeneration, Poison Resistance Willpower 0 10 Influences ability to focus, and ignore distractions. Has other effects at high level. Passive Skills 2 Passives  Click to expand [ + ] Active Skills Name Cost Description & Effect Fairy Wings [Racial] 1.5 Stam/min

Flight Speed: 8.9 Meters/sec (9.8 in star light)

Mote [Racial] - - Fly at 1/3 Fairy Wings speed. Alter brightness at will. Fit through most openings. Gentle Touch [Racial]

22 Mana

4 Mana/sec

Initial Healing: 8.3 Health (9.1 in star light)

Channeled Healing: 1.7 Health/sec (1.8 in star light)

Fairy Stitching [Racial]

?? Mana

You can stitch anything to any other thing! Duration of stitching is determined by your Clarity score. Mana cost fluctuates, and is determined by the length of the stitch, and the materials being stitched together. Does not work on iron. Does not work directly on a living entity. Recast this Skill on existing instances of [Fairy Stitching] to renew their duration.

Maximum Stitching Duration: 2100 Minutes (2310 in star light)

Pel had plenty of time during his imprisonment to fiddle with his screen. Collapsing and summarizing his Attributes and Skills made it much more manageable to look over. The scuff of feet on dirt caught his attention. Looking beyond the camp clearing and over Godrick’s head, Pel saw the free Humans returning with arms full of scraggly branches. Godrick directed them to dump the pile in the center of camp. There wasn’t a firepit, or even a ring of stones or a scorch mark on the ground from old fires, really anywhere on the ground would do.

Refocusing on the new Skill, Pel muttered its name and waited. Like a beam of light, his Mana shot down from his head to his hand. It felt different than his [Gentle Touch] Skill. That was more like a warm morning light that took a mostly straight shot down his arm. [Fairy Stitching] seemed to take the most scenic route available, twisting and turning, doubling back, and looping through his arm until it poked out from his right palm. The instantaneous flash of Spell Pattern as his Mana exited his palm was hideously complex, and he couldn’t even almost sense what it looked like.

Turning his hand over Pel watched as a curved silver needle emerged from his hand. The tip was so sharp and narrow that it seemed to disappear except for the silver light glinting off of it like a sliver of a moon in the night sky. Threaded through the eye of the needle was a thin strand of golden light that disappeared into his palm. Pulling the needle away from his palm with his other hand, the golden thread continued to lengthen with an odd pulling sensation that ran all the way up his pathways and into his head. Ugh, that feels like when you pick a really long booger and it pulls out a tiny part of your brain.

Pel looked over at Godrick, now mostly dressed in Shieldy’s armor.

“Hey, Godrick. Can you ask one of them to help me make some clothes? I have needle and thread, now.” Pel asked.

“Where did you- whoa,” Godrick turned his head and spotted what Pel was holding. “Is that a Skill?”

“Yep, just chose it. Got it for reaching Level 10!” Pel said happily.

“You didn’t have to do that!” Godrick nearly shouted with a pained voice. “You shouldn’t have wasted a Skill Slot on something like sewing! I’m sorry! Now your build will be suboptimal!”

“Wow, hey. It’s not a big deal!” Pel said. “It really was the best option. Probably. It says I can stitch anything two things together, it’s not just limited to making clothes. Besides, I don’t even know if there is an optimal build for Fairies.”

“I hope what you just said is true, because I would feel terrible if I spurred you into ruining your Class,” Godrick said. He looked over his shoulder and called out to the departing Humans. After a short conversation one of the women walked over to speak more.

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll let her know what you said,” Godrick informed him.

“A pair of pants, and a shirt with an open section on the upper back,” Pel said.

Godrick spoke to the woman who looked confused to be there. He handed her a knife that used to belong to Stabby, which she took gently as if afraid it might bite her. Pel waved at her with a smile from above the crate and tunic. Actually, I wonder if someone else can even stitch with my Skill?