Chapter Thirteen: Status Symbols

“I don’t understand. What is all this?”

［This? This is my masterpiece. The dream of every man. It is the legendary status window!］

Rook was confused. Oberon was acting even more eccentric than before. This new floating window was full of strange markings, and unlike the map, its function and benefits were far from intuitive.

There was something else strange happening. Rook understood the concept of reading, though he had never been directly exposed to it. Rhaeger never mentioned it, and most likely also didn’t have the skill, but Rhaegun had once bragged about going to special training classes in the village to learn how to read. He had shown off his writing tools and a drawing board, but had gotten quickly bored of it and stopped going after a few weeks.

In the end, it seemed to be a useful thing to be able to communicate by making marks that could be understood by people at a later date, but it also seemed to be a complex skill and not one worth the time and effort apparently.

The strange thing about this new window was that, as far as he could tell, Rook could actually read it. He saw the markings and immediately knew what they meant.

Not only that, but he also knew how it worked. The marking did not correspond to things or concepts as he had assumed. Instead, the marks represented sounds, and when put together, the sounds created words or numbers. Rook didn’t know where this knowledge came from, but it was similar to when he used the magic tools. If he just opened his mind, he realized that the information was already there.

Rook took out Thayn’s bag again. He looked through it until he found the parchment that bore the symbol on his hand. It was his contract, and the proof of his servitude.

The bond contract was problematic for Rook. He knew that by law, he could not possess the contract. It could be discharged, of course, but that needed to be done in a labor-management office.

A bondsman could never possess their own contract. They could purchase it out, but the payment must go to the person in possession of the contract. After which, the contract was returned to the labor office and marked satisfied.

If a bondsman were ever caught carrying his own contract, he would be immediately arrested and investigated until the legal owner of the contract was located. This reality had been strenuously reinforced to him his whole life. A bondsman could never possess the only proof of their identity.

This would certainly complicate things later on. Rook looked at the document, searching for some understanding that might help him come up with a plan. Instead, he simply got more confused. Just as before, when he glanced at the document in Thayn’s hands, he could not understand it at all.

When he looked at the window, he could read and understand the words, but the bonding contract was nothing but scratches.

［You can actually read…］

Oberon was just as puzzled as Rook. While he could understand much of what he had been exposed to, either through Rook’s senses, or by directly examining objects in his storage space, he could not read the strange writing from the contract either.

Just because he could read it, did not mean Rook understood what he was looking at.

He recognized his name. The writing said that he was “healthy.” That seemed like a worthless observation. He knew he was healthy. He wondered if he stepped out into the rain, would it change to “wet?” What was the point of recording how he felt, Rook wondered.

The amount of coins he had was useful, but couldn’t he just ask Oberon? Then there were the strange words and numbers that he had no idea what they meant.

［Aha! Yes, those are your key stats! Strength, Agility, Vitality, and Spirit! This was what took me so long to set up. They show your current status of these key characteristics. So, for example, Strength 3 means that you are well under the norm for full grown human. A five is average, and a 10 would mean you are amongst the strongest humans in the world.］

“Strength? But why does it say STR?”

［Well… cause… It takes up less space on the screen. And… ummm… oh, yeah, it makes the stats line up better if they are all three characters.］

“… I have no idea what that means.”

［Argh! You are such a… loser! It just looks better like this. Alright? Stat boxes should be simple, and minimal so that they don’t cover too much of the screen.］

“…”

［Ahhh! Fine! Whatever. You just have no sense of tradition.］

The new window disappeared from the air in front of Rook.

“So, what should we do next?”

［Why are you asking me? Go do whatever you want.］

Rook realized that he didn’t actually know what Oberon’s voice sounded like. He only heard it inside his mind, like strange thoughts that didn’t belong to him.

Still, he could tell that the voice was male. It sounded older most of the time, but it could also come across like a petulant and spoiled child like it does now.

When Rhaegun spoke like this, he knew to just stay away and let the boy burn off his frustration on another target if possible.

Unfortunately, he needed Oberon to do almost everything. He was sure he could remove the boulder covering his hideout, but besides that, he had no abilities or experience that could help him get out of this alive. He even needed Oberon to adjust the windows to see outside in order to make sure it was safe to remove the stone.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Sorry, I know you worked hard on it. Thanks. I just don’t know what those things mean.”

［…］

“Hey, what’s the magic thing for? What’s an MP?”

［Hmph. Those were the hardest ones to build out. It can track your health, magic, and stamina in real-time. If you are injured, or poisoned, or exhausted, you can see the effects.］

“Well, magic is 100 percent. I guess it’s because I can’t use magic. But why did you put it there? It’s always going to be full, right?”

［What are you… Are you really that dumb? Of course, you can use magic. You have been using magic the whole time.］

Rook was taken aback. He wasn’t a skill user.

［How do you think any of this is possible? Look, I’m trying to figure out magic all by myself, and even I know that you are using magic, a lot.］

His mini-tantrum forgotten, Oberon dove into an explanation of magic, that left Rook speechless.

［As far as I can tell, your idea of magic is using magic cores, right? The skill stones. Anyway, that’s only half correct. Skill stones are like programs. They only help process your magic. The magic that collects in your body naturally.］

Oberon was now speaking quickly and excitedly.

［The things that you saw before, the water and fire, floating in the air, that was all done by focusing the magic inside, through a magic core… I mean skill stone, and then controlling the manifestation. When I say that you are using magic, it’s because everything I have worked on since we started, uses magic.

“Wait… what about the coins?”

［Oh, yeah. Well, that’s easy to explain. Coins are pretty much just crystalized magic. Magic tools use that as a power source. But not just that, I can tap into them in a similar way. That’s how I can upgrade abilities fast instead of waiting years to slowly build things up.］

“Wait… So you use the coins the same way a magic tool does? But that’s crazy. I’ve never heard of anyone doing something like that.”

I’ve noticed that. I’m starting to think that, at least out in these backwaters, the understanding of magic is actually pretty lame. I’ve been able to figure stuff out on my own, which makes me wonder how these yokels ever invented the wheel.

“Oberon, you said I can use magic. What did you mean?”

［Yeah. Well, it’s pretty obvious. Everyone can use magic. That’s how the soul spaces work. It’s just a basic application, one that apparently everyone is born knowing how to use. It’s also a low-cost application, so it’s no problem for people to use it freely.］

This was sounding crazy to Rook. If the soul space was magic, then that meant everyone was using magic every day. He wasn’t an expert at any of this, but what Oberon was saying defied common sense.

［Look, I’ll prove it to you. Actually, I’m not sure I want to give you a gift like this. Still…］

In Rooks hand, a small object appeared. Under the light from the lantern, it was hard to see any details or color, but Rook recognized the shape. It was identical in size and form to the skill stone that Thayn had given to Rhaeger.

［Look, we picked up a bunch of these in the loot drops. I think this one might come in handy later, though, so this is a good place to start.］

“Start?”

［Like I said before, these things are basically programs. Software. We run some mana through them like electricity, and BAM! Magic!］

“Mana?”

［You know… Well, maybe not. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, Let me check it out and set it up in the array.］

The skill stone disappeared again. Suddenly, a new window appeared.

SKILLSCORE: RESTORE/CURE

* CURE

Basic cure: Negate the effects of poisons and negative status effects.

Proficiency: 1 / 100%

［This is one of the skills that that cook guy had. It’s probably why the others weren’t paralyzed like you were back in the camp. According to your “common sense,” only a person with an affinity with green skill stones can use this ability, correct?］

That was, in fact, what everyone believed. An affinity was rare, and usually inherited through a bloodline. Most people didn’t have any, making skill stones useless to them, and no one ever had two. At least, this is what Rhaegun had explained.

［Of course, it only took me a few minutes to figure out that all that is crap. It’s definitely genetics, though. It has to do with small mutations. While I admit, I’m not a genetics researcher, I can definitely recognize patterns. That, and I know how to install a software patch. Now that I modified the skill stone, you should be able to use it, no problem. Go ahead!］

That was pure nonsense, of course, but Rook didn’t know how to get out of this.

“How? What do I do?”

［Just think of the words “Cure” while focusing your attention on something. Try your foot.］

As soon as he voiced the word in his mind, a green glow appeared to surround his foot. Just like when he used the magic tools, information flooded into his brain. He knew what the skill was, how to use it, and details like how far away it would work, and even how much magic, or mana it required.

The skill didn’t actually do much, except use up a tiny amount of Rook’s MP, seeing as he wasn’t currently poisoned, but he was absolutely convinced that if he used it after consuming a light poison like the paralysis effect he felt in the camp, this skill would have greatly negated the effects.

It occurred to him suddenly that this was a skill stone taken, not from one of the bandits, but from one of the party of mercenaries he had joined. While he wasn’t exactly a comrade, he again felt a twinge of guilt as he remembered the man handing a bowl of stew to him.

［Heh, Poisoned stew. Don’t forget that he didn’t help you when you were poisoned. Well, I guess he was probably already dead by then…］

“Wait. So you are saying that I can use skill stones… wait. I can use all skill stones?!”

［Well, yeah. Obviously. I mean, not right off the bat. I mean, you don’t have the right genetic code to unlock all the stones, but I can tweak them so that you can bypass that.］

“Oberon, how…? How can you do this? Who… What are you?”

［Back to this again? I told you, I’m Oberon, king of the faeries.］

“No! Really, you have to tell me. Who are you? No one can do what you just did. Are you really inside that black skill stone? How did you get in there? How do you have so much power? Are you… a god?”

［… hmmm. God? No. Definitely not a god.］

“Where did you come from?”

This time, there was a long pause. Rook could feel turmoil in the silence. He could somehow sense the conflict that the king of faeries was going through as he tried to answer that question.

［I don’t know.］

“What? But you know all these things. You don’t remember where you came from.”

［No. My first memory is just existing in the blackness. Eventually, I figured out how to see through your eyes. But I was so weak. I can’t remember anything before that, but sometime… sometimes, I just say things like I know what I am saying without thinking about it. I don’t know where that comes from.］

“You really don’t remember?”

［No, I think it’s somewhere inside me. Knowledge that is locked away from me for some reason. But it seems like I can only get it when I am not trying to remember. Thus, the dilemma.］

“Then your name? Is it really Oberon, king of the faeries?”

The voice was getting sadder, and seemed tired all of a sudden.

［Maybe not. I can’t remember. I don’t even remember where the name Oberon came from. I think it’s a real name. One that I had some connection to…］

“Fine. Well, the I’m cutting the whole ‘king of the faeries’ thing. It’s just too tiring to say every time.”

［Fine…］

“So, Oberon, should we check out the other skill stones?”

The voice suddenly perked up, though not from the suggestion. He had a sudden thought that brightened his mood.

［Wait. If you want something shorter, I have a better way to shorten my name.］

“What? What is it?”

［You can call me Obi,］the voice answered cheerfully.