‘Okay, Janet. No rest for you. Looks like the little fight drew some spectators.’
Rangu and Dale, the only adults among the gathering Adventurers, were scowling in her direction like they’d just witnessed her murder a puppy. The bouncing girl on the other hand was over the moon, as though she’d just met her hero in the flesh. As for the boys… Janet deciphered competitiveness and combative ambition from their focused gazes and their puffed-up chests.
‘Only the adults could understand what the presence of a demon in these parts means, or what the repercussions of an expanding Dead Zone would have been. Why are they being so hostile if they understand that that imp was trying to set up a bridgehead? Might they have been in cahoots?’
It was fine assigning blame and suspicion, and mighty pleasurable for Janet when the pair of asses that had dismissed her so offhandedly were the people involved, but it was not her place to do so. As a matter of fact, sticking her nose into such complicated affairs as relations between Spheres and the apostatic idiots that kept enabling demonic incursions would only bring more attention upon her.
As for the kids, Janet peered through the trees and sighed in defeat. More of the youths were treading up the hill to join their mates. Quick bursts of conversation were exchanged, and as if following a practiced routine, one and all of the new arrivals lodged at her with eyes filled with challenge.
A First Circle had felled a demon that by all indication, could completely wipe the floor with them all. Not to mention her display of mastery over Shadow – a relatively despised magic Affinity.
Janet did not feel up to dealing with them. At all.
For one, her insides were all crisped up, and her core was bottomed out. There was also the issue of her injuries having been caused by a flame steeped in a Mystery that prevented healing. The holes in her abdomen and forehead, along with her scorched core were showing no signs of recovery.
By rough calculation, she’d need up to a day of rest and recuperation – with a heavy feeding session or two squeezed in there – before she was ready to lift a finger in retaliation or summon up the mana to cast a Skill in combat or defense.
‘What I need right now is a way to stay put without these clowns causing trouble. Also, I need to disguise my regeneration. Humans are meant to have limits, after all, and I’d hate for my nature to be associated with the demon’s final bout of recuperation.’
The latter part of her internal monologue was easy to address. From her storage – which worked for some reason even though she did not have any mana to operate the runes – Janet withdrew a tiny glass bottle filled with herbal essence.
The essence was concentrated herb extract meant for use in the concoction of potions by alchemists who didn’t always have a ready supply of fresh herbs. Sylthis used it to elevate their meals into heavenly affairs that were delicious, and that improved their constitution. As a result of the meals, Janet felt that she was way too hardy, and her fists packed too heavy a punch for a First Circle.
Anyway, Janet dumped the fragrant vial of potent magical liquid into her mouth, gagged as it evaporated into her nostrils, and squeezed out some tears as she pushed it down her throat. Hopefully, the Adventurers would assume that the glass had held an elixir or some form of Health Potion; and would attribute her healing to its effects.
That done, it was time for some diplomacy.
“Aurelia, was it?” Her breath was thick with the aroma of the essence. Good thing the subject of her address was hundreds of meters away.
“That’s me.” The red-haired girl seemed way too overjoyed at the greeting. Somehow, her smile grew even wider.
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Anything.”
You see, the world was home to thousands of Guilds. There were around fifty major ones, but in the countless millennia since their founding, breakaway factions arose that boasted enough skill and foresight to set up Guilds of their own that survived through the ages.
Countless wars and bloody conflicts had thus broken out between the orthodox and the liberal forces, between old traditions against newer, less conservative ideals. Rules had to be established else membership into a Guild would have become synonymous with forced conscription.
Protocols had been set up to enforce the safety of Guild members during Armistice, Truces, Conclaves, even wars were fought under strict conditions of what constituted a win or a loss. Janet, avid reader of ancient lore, intended to call upon one such rule.
“I need someone to guarantee a Rite of Parley.”
Aurelia’s demeanor suddenly shifted. Janet feared the worst as her only seeming-ally among the gathering of Adventurers turned cold and officious, like a seasoned politician.
What did the girl say her surname was, again?
“Where is your support? That Rite is famously useless unless someone exists who can to enforce the peace in your stead.”
“The other two are on their way.” Janet’s breath was coming out in spurts. She needed time to focus on purifying her pathways. Feeling so weak sucked, and she was beginning to worry about what would happen if this didn’t work…
“A Detained Parley, then?”
Janet could have embraced the girl if she could stand, or move her arms. Aurelia caught her intention, and had mirrored it perfectly. With a smile and a meaningful blink, she indicated her agreement.
Aurelia smirked, then gave her a short bow.
“I, Janet of Wayfarer, hereby call for peace under the rules of Parley, to be enforced on my behalf by Wayfarer and Slayer.” She saw Dale turn pale. His companion turned to rebuke the girl, but he was too late. Aurelia caught the ball and rolled with it.
“I, Aurelia Sidur of Adventurer and Brewer, heed and guarantee the call. There shall be no hostility here today between my party and yours.”
Simply put, Aurelia just set the conditions for geography and duration inside a single breath.
The Rite’s magic took effect almost immediately. The rules were etched into the very Laws that animated the Almanacs themselves. With her sense into mana tuned so finely, Janet perceived a dense weave of runes settle upon every shoulder present. The magic was multi-attribute, consisting of dozens of different Affinities, its scheme too convoluted to even dream of deciphering.
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Ding!
Parley has been called, established, and ratified between Wayfarer, Adventurer, Slayer and Brewer. Duties of Punishment and Penalties for violation of the Rite will fall to the named parties.
What the Rite did was simple; it called for non-aggression. And as the notification stated, it was an agreement between Guilds. The present individuals mattered little. If any of them contravened the law, the named Guilds would be responsible for disciplinary action.
Any members of the listed Guilds within a certain radius would receive the exact same notification. And since Janet had named the Slayer Guild in her declaration, Darius and Sylthis, the only Slayers in the vicinity, would receive the notification along with a vague direction as to where the Rite had been called.
Why four Guilds? A person could be affiliated with one, or even two Guilds, and as such could break Parley and attack the other party without consequence. But to have ironclad connections in all four?
Guilds loved enforcing the old laws. Displays of force allowed them to build prestige, after all. That threat of four-party enforcement would keep Janet – and Aurelia – protected.
“Thank you, Aurelia.”
“I only did what was right.” The redhead flicked back her pigtails, then shot a defiant smile at the older Guide. “You expunged a rampaging demon, Janet. I think you are owed some time to recuperate. Who knows what would have happened if the Dead Zone had been left to grow unchecked?”
‘Is Aurelia accusing the Guides of something? I know I can be socially dense sometimes, but that was as subtle as a brick to the face!”
“I’m going to [Meditate] now,” she announced at the Guides and their dumbfounded charges. Just to be sure, she explained the rules to the kids. “If any of you breaks the Pact, the four Guilds have a duty to track you down and terminate your connection to the Almanacs.”
“That means annihilation of your soul,” Aurelia added.
Faces went pale. Some people took multiple steps backwards. Janet shot the adults winning smiles and hoped that neither of them were suicidal enough to call the wrath of the Rite down on themselves. No threat was foolproof when people were involved, after all.
“Do you need someone to keep watch?”
“Please.” Janet agreed. She did not understand why a Sidur of all the Seldorian big-name families would throw in their lot with her. Yet, that promise of familial extermination so often practiced by slighted big-names added another welcome layer to her safety.
Aurelia hopped over to Janet’s spot. She looked utterly at peace with the cloying tension in the air. She then helped Janet sit upright and took a long look at her decrepit state.
“Are you sure you don’t need additional medical assistance? You seem pretty beat up.”
“The potion should help with the recovery.”
Aurelia’s eyes shot open at the thick scent of essence on her breath. Yet, she just smiled knowingly and sat with her back propping up Janet’s.
“I’ve never seen a real-life Slayer before, you know?” she sounded almost twice as excited as before. The same ambition she’d seen in the other youths was clear from her tone of voice.
“Are you an admirer, or are you aspiring to join?”
“Join, of course. I want to see what they see and hunt where they do.” She stood up and walked around so she was looking into Janet’s eyes. Her hands kept the shorter girl upright by stabilizing her shoulders. “Wayfarer and Slayer… what an exciting combination!”
Janet should have felt aggrieved that her opportunity to recover was interrupted. Aurelia however seemed so enthralled by her, it was difficult to work up any anger.
“I’m not a qualified Slayer yet,” she replied. “I’m still quite clearly still in First Circle.”
“Oh, don’t pretend that’s not on purpose. I sensed that Demon’s strength,” she chided playfully. “I’m on the final step to Third Circle and sure as hell would struggle… no, I would have died had I been the one to face it.”
Janet did not know how to counter.
“Furthermore, everyone witnessed your control over Shadow. Controlling a domain Skill with such ease must have taken years of training.” Her eyes drilled into Janet’s. “How high-tier is your [Shadow Manipulation]?”
Janet looked down in embarrassment. Aurelia interpreted her hesitation for modest refusal to answer.
“Okay, sorry for prying.” She then sat back to prop Janet up again. “But it’s so obvious that you’re a Legacy trainee that it doesn’t matter whether you answer or don’t, anyway.”
And just like that, Janet understood why Darius was so keen to teach her complicated rune-working that nobody ever learned unless they were elite members of the Formations Guild or a dedicated crafter. Sylthis’ dedicated cooking and swordsman lessons also finally revealed their truth.
Her party was trying to coax a Slayer out of her bumpkin shell. And as Janet heard Aurelia’s extolments of what she considered to be pretty normal magic; a picture she had chosen not to see began to emerge.
In the image, she was no longer the scared kid that had huddled inside a tree, scared shitless by the sounds of the night. By the Spheres, she had just played Guild poker with the ancient rules… and won!
Mere weeks past, the gathering of Adventurers staring warily at her like she was the threat would have stopped her heart with fright with their mere presence. Now, it was her presence that demanded fear.
‘Things really have changed,’ she thought to herself as she activated [Meditation] and began the painstaking process of cleansing her internals of integrated demonic essence.
Long, long minutes later that felt like a tiny eternity, Janet heard the telltale bell of the System. Novel Magic was an XP-earning feat, and what she’d been doing, cleansing a novel Mystery out of her pathways – technically consuming it and making it her own, but who cared – had been recognized as worthy.
Ding!
For successful performance of magic beyond your capabilities, you have gained Experience
You have reached LV 17
+3 to all Stats.
Due to filled Stat tally, +24 free points
The demon had yielded two levels. Now this, and she was just three levels away from exiting the Beginner’s Circle.
As she was perusing the changes to her Status, the stream-like flows of ambient mana made way as two substantive collections of condensed might approached. Darius and Sylthis alighted from a floating platform of light.
Immediately, Sylthis rushed towards Janet to take stock of her condition. Janet shared her Status, her face the very image of accomplishment.
Status
Name: Janet
Race: [unknown] LV 17
Talents: Shadow Affinity (Arcane), Soul Affinity (True), Fire Affinity (…)
Blessings: Gaia and Ionus: [Dance of Dual Elements – Life, Death] (upgradeable)
Class: [Binder of Shadow]
Subclasses: N/A
Resources
Mana (MP): 0/300
Health (HP): 300/300
Stamina: 11/300
Stats
Vitality: 30
Strength: 30
Agility: 30
Endurance: 30
Wisdom: 30
Intelligence: 30
Senses: 30
Willpower: 30
Free Points: 106
SP: 2
Titles
Blessed, Avid Learner, Classed, Head Start (I)
Skills:
General
[Throw] (Basic), [Sprint] (Common), [Cooking] (Common), [Butchering] (Common), [Novice Cartographer] (Common), [Refined Palate] (Uncommon)
Magic
[Meditation] (Common), [Mana Sight] (Rare), [Empowered Shadow Bolt] (Rare), [Construct Field – Shadow] (Rare), [Mana Manipulation] (Common), [Weapon Cladding – Mana] (Uncommon), [Cutting Edge] (Uncommon) [Empowered Firebolt] (Rare)
Class Skills
[Shadow Bind] (2/10)
[Shadow Authority] (1/10)
Subclass Skills
N/A
Spell Book:
(Empty)
“Good job, but I can see that your mana is not regenerating.” the Cyclopean commented after giving the Status a skim. “How are you feeling?”
“Like the demon set my insides on fire?”
The joke was received poorly. Rather than laugh, Sylthis instead hit Janet with a whole compendium of diagnostic spells and Skills. Her eye drilled into Janet’s body, taking stock and cataloguing all the damage.
“It’s not too bad. You’ll survive.”
Janet had expected more from the expressive woman, but clearly Sylthis had other things on her mind.
“Now, why exactly did my Junior Sister have to initiate a stinking Rite of Parley?” her eye scanned the gathered Adventurers, her anger visible to all. She pointedly avoided looking at Aurelia who was practically vibrating with excitement.
“Does anyone care to tell me why I shouldn’t just rip this pact to shreds and visit a Slayer’s wrath upon the impertinent, obtuse hat racks you call your heads?”
Nobody dared answer. The next moment, Sylthis’ saber was in her arm. A red light of warning began radiating from the runes on her shoulders. “I need answers, right this instant!”