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First though, I had to make some… changes, to the order of the world. I can still remember the feeling of shame as I took a dagger to the canvas…
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Thor paused as his eyes looked into the distance for a moment before his focus returned. He took another moment to collect his thoughts before saying, “Sovereign of the Primal Elements.” After taking a deep breath, he continued. “It was an obvious choice for me, too. The legendary class was called Wrathbringer and was interesting, but in the end it was far too focused on just attacking foes, and nothing else. Sovereign… Well, just listen to this:
Sovereign of the Primal Elements [Epic]
There is only ever One, and to the One is granted the power over the most basic of elements. Since time began, humanity has struggled against nature, and you have reached dominion over that which could only be controlled by the Heavens: Water; Fire; Air; and Earth are all yours to command. But beware the power of the elements, lest the mantle of responsibility that follows proves too heavy to bear. This is the path of strength of body, soul, heart and mind. Train them all and ignore none, or despair shall follow.
Attribute points per level (20): Magical Resistance +2, Intelligence+5, Knowledge+5, Wisdom+3, Insight+2, Free Points: 5
New Skill: Icicle Strike (Your foe is struck by ice and takes damage. They remain frozen in place for a short while)
Note: Affinity for Magma transformed into Affinity for Fire. Affinity for Ice transformed into Affinity for Water. Affinity for Earth gained. Affinity for Air gained.
“
“Oh… Wow.,” Vic answered, eyes wide as he stared at Thor. “That is… incredibly wicked. What does your information show now?”
Thor paused for a moment before reading.
Level: 3 Class: Sovereign of the Primal Elements [Epic] (+20/+3 Free Points) Affinity: Water, Fire, Earth, Air Area Growth Essence Density: Water; Drought, Fire; Drought, Earth; Abundant, Air; Abundant Health: 36 (Regeneration: Base+0) Essence: 38 (Regeneration: Base+23)
Skills: Boiling Earth (I)*, Icicle Strike (I)*
*) Active in Skill Slot
Skill Slots: 2 (Base:1/E:0/E:0/D:1/E:0) Titles: None Heart Loci (Tier E / 3: +6 Health) Physical Resistance 0 Magical Resistance 3 (+2) Spiritual Resistance 0 Mind Loci (Tier D / 23: +23 Essence Regeneration) Intelligence 10 (+5) Knowledge 10 (+5) Wisdom 3 (+3) Body Loci (Tier E / 0: +0 Health Regeneration) Strength 0 Speed 0 Stamina 0 Soul Loci (Tier E / 4: +8 Essence) Perception 1 Presence 1 Insight 2 (+2)
“That is immense,” Vic said. “You have two skill slots? How does that work?”
“It’s the new Tier,” Mia began. “His Mind. It’s Tier D for some reason.”
“It must be the sum of the attributes,” Thor said. “At 23, it is higher than any of the others. And higher than anyone else, I believe?”
A moment later, they had confirmed the hypothesis. Pete’s Body was the second highest score at 14 points.
“And that gives you two open skill slots?” Vic asked, his face lit with excitement. “Awesome! So at some point between 14 and 23, there is an increase in Tier, and that comes with another skill slot. So you can have both skills ready for use. I wonder if it works the same for all the Loci… So if we get all four loci to Tier D, we get four more skill slots?”
“Probably,” Thor said with a wry grin. “But you are missing the more important question. What happens when the Loci goes from Tier D to Tier C, and then…?”
The room went quiet as they all contemplated the question, a shared realisation that there was so much they didn’t know yet.
Eventually, Pete broke the silence. “So,” he said, smiling at the others as Matt got to his feet. “Hearth and Shield, Shadowstalker, Paladin and… Sovereign of the Primal Elements. What does this mean? How strong are we now compared to–”
Matt walked towards the large double doors, letting the excited words of his friends fade behind. His mind was clouded with a mixture of emotions that he needed to sort out on his own. Vic’s words about needing to depend on him, how he had nearly failed them, were still churning through his thoughts. On top of that, the whole scene with the class crystals had caused something heavy to sit in his gut that he didn’t quite know how to describe. He didn’t want to bring the others down. He wished the others all the joy they could find, but there was something about observing them gain powers of magic that he could only dream about that stopped him from joining them in their elation. And not just the magic, but what it implied. The freedom and autonomy he knew it gave them in living their lives, making their own decisions and reaching for their goals and ambitions. The power represented an opportunity for them to stand up for themselves, that he didn’t begrudge them. He also knew that their power would be instrumental in carving out the future that they were all working towards.
But that was not his way, and he needed to navigate his emotions and his new situation to carve out his own role, whatever it may be. Vic had said something important, though. Even as the others gained powers, he was going to be there next to them, accompanying them on their journey. And they had to rely on him, and that started with finding a way to deal with what he knew was about to become a crippling jealousy.
He knew, intellectually, that he had so much to be thankful for. Simple survival was at the pinnacle, knowing that he had defeated the wasting disease which had hung like a cloud over him all his life. Having escaped the scythe that had carved its way through the lives of generations, being able to look forward to a future he had never thought existed.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
He also knew that he had to bring that knowledge from his mind, from his intellect, and into his emotions. He owed it to the others to not just be someone they could depend on not to fuck up, but to contribute to the success of the changes they were planning.
His heavy steps took him down into the chamber with the pattern that had started everything, and he sat down on the floor. With his legs crossed, he breathed deeply as he looked up at the ceiling, the shifting symbols and threads already beginning to settle the churning in his gut, providing a comforting backdrop to his thoughts. Closing his eyes, he tried to structure his thoughts as he kept part of his attention on the pulsating sphere of coloured threads that spun in his mind, and a part of his attention on his mission to find a way past the jealousy and envy. The spinning sphere was denser than ever before, and the ball of energy seemed to contain more threads than before; even more essence.
Since his way forward did not seem to include strange and mysterious powers, he had to choose a different path, and that needed to be his own. He had a real choice to decide his own destiny, perhaps for the first time in his life. He knew that if he kept focusing on the jealousy that he felt as his friends became stronger, the feeling would eventually consume him. It would come between himself and them, building resentment until there was no room for anything else. But perhaps even worse, it would prevent him from finding the happiness and purpose that he now knew existed. It was there for the taking; the strange puzzle of the magical essence, building and growing a place of safety and life beyond what people thought possible, the power to keep his friends and family alive and prosperous.
From somewhere, he could hear his sister’s words. “Just let it out, Matt.” She had found him lying in the middle of the field on the morning after their mother’s death. He had been all quiet, his face calm and his eyes dry. She had sat down next to him, her own eyes streaming with tears. “There’s something you always forget in all your cleverness. Emotions are not about your head, they are about your heart.” And she had placed her hands, first on his head and then on his chest. “If you try to pull your emotions into your head, it just doesn’t work. It’s like… It’s like trying to force the crops to grow in sand. It will never work. I know it hurts, but you need to pull the feelings down from your head and down here.” Her hand had pushed down on his chest. “Feel that?” She had asked when the first tear trickled down his cheek. “That is good. You loved her. Cry for her. Take all those feelings of love, and all those feelings of loss, and force yourself to feel them.” And after, he felt lighter.
And now he invited in the feelings of jealousy, found their edges and tugged at them and let them wash over his consciousness. Stronger and stronger, the thoughts and emotions came in waves; the looks on his friends’ faces when they gained a new level. Their excitement of obtaining a class. The confidence and ambition that seemed to grow together with their skills. His feelings of envy. This was not a world that was for him to have or to feel or to experience. He was excluded, standing on the outside looking in. The intensity of his jealousy kept increasing, and by instinct, he fed it all into the sphere that was glowing in his mind. As his body grew hot with thoughts of envy, he embraced and absorbed the emotions. He imagined himself walking down a path that was saturated with those feelings, feeding his every step, fueling his future Way. That was a possible path–a path that was built on his reaction to others, not based on his own desires.
Taking a deep breath and forcing a smile on his face, he consciously forced another thought through the all-consuming envy: He imagined himself coming to a fork in the road, where the path of envy led in one direction. That was the easy path to follow; his entire being already filled with a momentum that pushed him in that direction. Only this time, he chose a different path. A thin and difficult path to find that led into the unknown. He took one step, then another. Even if he did not know where the path would lead, it felt right to him, and he would walk towards the future on his own terms. He left the path of jealousy behind.
Even if he had no magic skills or powers, he had himself, and his mind, and his choices. Always that; the ability to choose, to make the decisions that he believed were right. Opening his eyes to the future that he had found, Matt got to his feet, determined to look forward instead of wallowing in self pity. I am alive; he reminded himself. So what if he lived a life with no magic or classes or skills? He was alive. And he would shape this Sanctuary to become what the world needed. What his family needed. What his friends needed.
With a new sense of purpose, he walked back up to the common room. The others were still talking over what the future might hold now that they had found this mysterious magic, but as Pete waved for Matt to come and join them, he just smiled and kept walking until he arrived in the training hall. Even if he had no magic skills or classes, the last weeks had given him an appreciation for the importance of training. The absence of magic was not a reason to give up, rather the opposite. It was motivation for training even harder to keep up.
He would not just leave the fighting to his friends. Even if his role would become less significant as the others advanced, he promised himself he would not be a liability. He would find his own specialities, carve out his own niche in their tactics and formation. Their foes would learn to fear his spear.
He walked over to the wall that was covered in illustrations of figures moving through fighting exercises, and walked to the drawing all the way at the end, where the figure was not wielding any weapons except their hands. With his new knowledge of letters, he read the text written below the circle on the wall: First Form.
Loosening up his shoulders and hips, he took a basic stance in front of the wall. Legs shoulder width apart, shoulders back and head held high. Mirroring the figure on the wall, he held his hands down, elbows bent, then brought them up in a V-shape in front of him, before extending them fully, palms facing forward. Following the illustration to the next drawing, he twisted his arms, drawing his palms into fists as he drew his arms back alongside his body, hands pointing forward. The next drawing had him take a step back with his left foot as he let his right arm block in a circular motion that flowed into a chopping strike at head height. On and on it went, through twenty different positions. Matt found that each position flowed naturally into the next one, and something about the movements resonated within him. With the sphere. Soon he had come back to the top of the circle and he let his arms fall to his sides before lifting them back up to a V-shape, and then starting the circle over.
Over and over, Matt followed the pattern, until he could repeat it with his eyes closed. Faster and faster, as he found harmony in the movements. The slow extensions of his arms became snappy punches; the circular movements from the elbow became solid blocks and parries. Losing himself to the physical movement, he fell into a state where all his thoughts disappeared. He forgot about the dungeons and the strange magic. He forgot about the fighting. He forgot about his jealousy. He forgot about the threads of essence. It was just him, and the movements, and something new stirring inside his mind. A heat that rose from deep within him, bringing an eerie comfort and a strange sense of peace. The feeling started deep in his chest, extended to his legs and his arms, reached his head, and stretched out to find a resonating vibration with the pulsating sphere of threads. Deep inside his mind, he could see a path reaching out and into the future, and he let his consciousness race down the path like rushing water following the shape of a river.
With his mind travelling down the Way, Matt’s body kept repeating the patterns of the First Form. With no conscious effort, his movements were accurate and swift. Again and again, the pattern repeated.
Eventually, after an indeterminate time, the heat inside began to fade away, and he held onto the feeling as his movements slowed. He let himself complete the cycle he was on, and when it finished, he lowered his arms and relaxed his stance, releasing the tension in his thighs and abdomen. For a moment, everything was quiet and the canvas of his mind was blank.
Slowly, Matt opened his eyes and his mind, conscious of the quiet in the room. In his chest, in his thoughts, in his stomach, something felt different. Stronger. His back was straighter as he walked back out of the room, drawing slow and deliberate breaths. In his mind, the sphere was almost blinding him with a newfound intensity. He tried to hold on to the memory of that moment of transcendence when his mind shut out the world, knowing that he wanted to–needed to–find that experience again.
The others had moved benches over to the large fireplace, and their smiles and laughter greeted Matt as he returned.
“Welcome back, from wherever you went!” Pete said, pouring mead into a mug that he held out to Matt.
Accepting the mug, Matt smiled at Pete. “Thanks.”