“Until this point in time,” Grey said. “AutoVants, the Sculpted, were legally considered to be property. Naturally, they objected to this legal status. Even before the Second Initialization, there were individuals that protested before the House of Lords their status as being little better than slaves, even after they had gained full sapience. These appeals went nowhere, however. There were, and are, a great many nobles in the House that have created an enormous amount of wealth off of the back of AutoVants. But it was only after they gained their Status and organized under their new, self-chosen racial name that they demanded, quite forcibly, to be granted their freedom. Again, they were denied.”
Grey scoffed.
“Unsurprising, in retrospect. In my long life, I’ve noticed that the nobility never truly changes. They have ever considered anyone not part of their ranks mere servants who exist to maintain their lavish lifestyles. Of course, they wouldn’t care if their servitors gained the ability to think and feel. If it wasn’t for the wisdom of the Royal family all those centuries ago, slavery would still be legal within Herztal. Ah, no offense intended, Azarus.” Grey said to Azarus, somewhat sheepishly.
Azarus shrugged, indifferent. “None taken. I agree with ya.”
“So,” I broke in. “What was the actual argument they gave for denying the, ah, Sculpted their freedom? If they had become a bunch of real boys and girls, and were even recognized by the System, what stopped them?”
Grey turned back to me and waved a hand irritably. “Some nonsense about how their prior legal status as property directly commissioned for a certain task superseded any claims of personhood. The majority opinion of the House was that they had the same legal status as a garden hoe. Bah! It was a transparent ploy to keep hold of the force that had so radically shifted the Herztalian markets, and the Sculpted knew it. So, they protested. En masse, they abandoned their posts and attempted to peacefully protest for their rights. The nobility did not appreciate this. Many times, the guards were called to break these mass protests up, citing that property did not have the right to free assembly. Eventually, these protests would escalate more and more often into outright violence. But it was difficult for such a young race to effectively fight back against such entrenched powers when their collective Statuses were so young. And so, they turned to me, to fight on their behalf.”
“I was happy to do so. After all, I felt a collective responsibility to the entire race, not to mention my direct adoption of one of their members. I stepped in and acted as a shield for these protests. The violence died down, and it seemed as if popular opinion was shifting in favor of the Sculpted. I strongly,” Grey said sarcastically, “Suspect that certain members of the House of Lords did not appreciate my intervention. It is at this point that I suspect Prince Anguis, Lord of House Savoy steps in, whispering in the ears of key House members. He likely saw an opportunity to destabilize the Kingdom from within. This collar around my neck came from his coffers, of this, I have no doubt. It is no small feat to restrain the Status of a person with my advanced level, and requires both powerful enchantments, exceedingly rare materials, and stupendous skill in order to create such a powerful collar.”
Grey sighed, rubbing his brow in frustration. “I don’t even truly know how they got it on me. I simply went to bed one night after a long day at the Academy, and when I woke, I was collared and bound in the back of a wagon traveling through the Barren Forest. I never even saw the face of the person who drove the wagon, I was only given minimal provisions through a small hatch at the front of the wagon. Weeks of non-stop travel later, we arrived in Addersfield and I was given to Magnus, and then promptly handed over to Azarus.”
“That was a damned surprise, let me tell you,” Azarus said wryly. “I wasn’t told why I had to come down here. Thought I was going to be babysitting Magnus, or something. Didn’t expect the gods-be-damned Headmaster of the Mystic Academy.”
Something occurred to me, and I grimaced. Uncomfortably, I motioned toward Grey’s legs. Or rather, lack of them. “So, uh, when did that happen?”
Grey’s face twisted in hatred. “Magnus.” He spat. “That feculent little toad wasn’t ordered to maim me in such a fashion, I’m certain of it. He merely wanted to do it anyway, with some poppycock excuse of ‘making sure I didn’t escape’. The only reason I was deprived of my legs was to satisfy his own twisted desires. And I. Will. Not. Forget. That.”
A tense silence fell over the table for a moment, before Grey visibly tried to calm himself down by letting out a long breath. “As it stands, to the best of my knowledge, the situation with the Sculpted immediately deteriorated with my absence. Forewarned of it, the nobles began to brutally crack down on any dissidence with increasingly severe violence. From what Azarus,” Grey nodded at him. “Has been able to find out, this was the breaking point for the Sculpted. They scattered, and rather than seek legal redress, they formed a rebellion. They found far more sympathy among the populace than anticipated, and thus many collaborators. Over the months since my capture, their rebellion has spiraled out of control into a full-on Herztalian civil war. There were many members of the House of Lords that always supported the Sculpted fight for freedom, and they took that chance to publicly support the rebellion with supplies, weaponry, and even soldiers. The situation is becoming untenable, and the High King is suspiciously silent. I’m sure Anguis is nearly cackling with glee at the chaos he helped concoct.”
Grey leaned forward on the table in order to better meet my eyes. The look on his face was intense. “Enter you, Nathan. While I might be able to concoct a method to free myself eventually, I don’t have that time. Whatever powers you may possess as a Precursor might well be able to free the both of us. I don’t mean to pressure you Nathan, but I need to be free from this cursed place. I need to be there, in the Kingdom, in order to settle this civil war. I need to prevent my country from burning to the ground, as a result of my actions. I need to find out what has happened to the High King. I need to be there in order to find out what has happened to my daughter.”
I took in a shuddering breath when he was finished, unaware that I had even stopped breathing. Right.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
No pressure.
……………………………………...
After Grey’s explanation, we all agreed to retire for the night. It had been a long day for both Azarus and I, myself more than him. I think the food was the only thing that had been keeping me up during our conversation with how exhausted I was. Before we all broke for our respective rooms though, Grey asked me to meet him in his after breakfast. I was too tired at the time to ask what for. Climbing the stairs, entering my room, and flopping into my bed, I was out like a light nearly instantaneously. Thankfully, I didn’t have any nightmares.
I woke fairly early in the morning, but I still felt fairly rested. I took the time to just laze about in bed for a while. It was nice to be back in a moderately comfortable bed again after using a sleeping cot during our travels. It didn’t compare to the sinfully soft bed I’d used back in Rhoscara, but it was nice. Comforting, in its own way.
Rising out of bed with a groan and getting dressed in the same old, same old, I exited my room. Blearily, I shuffled down the stairs and into the kitchen. I was the only one in there, so I took the time to make myself a simple breakfast. Once I was done and had cleaned up after myself, I remembered that Grey had asked me to meet him in his room. Exiting the kitchen and walking over to his room beneath the stairs, I softly knocked on the door to see if he was awake.
“Come in.” I heard faintly through the door. Guess he was up.
Opening the door, I found that Grey was sitting in his wheelchair at his work desk. At my entrance, he turned to face me with a small smile. “Good morning, Nathan.” He said to me.
“Morning,” I replied. “Did you already eat?”
Grey made a dismissive motion with his hands. “No need. I’m perfectly fine. Enough about me though, I’m quite tired of speaking about myself after last night. Rather, I think we should begin your education on certain matters. Starting first with whatever Profession you acquired in Rhoscara. I’m quite excited to see what was unveiled.”
Walking further into the room, I took a seat on the bed not far from Grey. “Huh,” I said thoughtfully. “Well, last time I checked, it was locked. It was something called 'Aetherial Melding'. Did Azarus tell you that we, or rather I, experienced a System Judgement when I finally got Artistry from El-, er, the Prince?”
"Aetherial Melding?" Grey’s eyebrows rose. “He did not, in fact. Most intriguing, if not entirely unexpected. Whatever it is that you’ve gained as an eighth Profession is entirely unique, to the best of my knowledge. The name tells me nothing."
“Right.” I nodded. “So, it was locked, and the Prince told me that I would probably need to unlock my first class to unlock that too. Well, in the forest I managed to level up enough to get my first class-”
“Congratulations!” Grey broke in eagerly, leaning in. “What is it?”
“Ah.” I was somewhat taken aback. “Well, it’s something called Thornblade Acolyte. From class selection, it told me it was an intelligence and dexterity class. It, uh, kinda saved my life. Not sure I would have gotten out of the forest alive without the skills it gave me.”
“Oh? Intelligence and dexterity classes are uncommonly taken during first selection.” Grey said musingly. “I don’t typically recommend it to most students, but I believe it’s viable with your advanced proportion of Virtue points. I’m not personally familiar with the ‘Thornblade’ prefix, but ‘Acolyte’ is well-researched indeed.”
“Is that the way classes work then? Prefixes and suffixes in combination that determine the function?” I asked curiously.
“Broadly speaking, yes,” Grey answered. “At least, when it comes to lower-tier classes like your own. But enough about classes, you were saying that your mysterious eighth Profession was previously locked, yes? Have you checked if it’s been unlocked yet?”
I shoot my head. “No, I was too exhausted after getting home yesterday, and I was too busy running for my life in my forest to think about it. Gimme a sec.”
Mentally pulling up my Status, I felt relief flow through me. Despite Ely’s reassurances, a little bit of the panic attack I’d had all those weeks ago still lingered in the back of my mind. But I had definitely unlocked something.
Name Nathaniel Eugene Hart Title N/A Level 14 Age 24 Sol Race Human (Precursor) Affinity Terrestrial Classes Thornblade Acolyte (Superior) Professions Aetherial Melding Health 190/190 Stamina 100/100 Vitality
19 Strength
10 Spirit
10 Dexterity
28 Perception
19 Intelligence
37 Wisdom
37 Free Points
40 Options [Talent Page], [Skill Page], [Profession Page]
Woah, what? Last I'd checked, I'd been level ten when I selected my class in the forest.
Wait.
Hadn't that screen before I'd picked Thornblade Acolyte said something about level fourteen? It had been in parenthesis, though. Huh. Maybe I'd just been prevented from getting those extra levels before I picked my class. Well, whatever. Before I spoke to Grey, I went ahead and assigned my free points. That brought my Vitality and Perception to twenty-three, my Dexterity to thirty-six, and my Intelligence and Wisdom to forty-nine.
Damn, but I'd gotten a ton out of killing that snake monster. I wonder what the deal with that was?
Once I'd seen my main Status screen, I maneuvered over to the Profession pane and its glowing web.
After examining my Status for a few moments, I closed it and looked up at Grey. “Yup, it’s unlocked alright,” I said to him, a little bit of my relief coloring my voice. "But the symbol in the center has changed. The fist opened up."
At Grey's raised eyebrow, I continued.
"It's an open palm, now."