Each step sent a new wave of jagged agony up from Snowflake’s broken leg. He limped toward his new destination, skirting around the crowded streets as much as he could. No one stopped to help, and a single shoulder bump almost sent him catatonic from the pain. Trickles of chemical energy flowed through his body as fast as he could convert it, fueling his pain-filled journey. He didn’t have enough Source to heal his energies, but even if he did, he wouldn’t. Excessive use of Source was starting to take a toll, but more than that, if he tried to heal himself now his bones would fuse back together in their current crooked state.
So, he drew deep, finding the iron core of stubborn determination inside himself, clutched his ruined arm, and made his way toward the Guildhall, one pain filled step at a time. He considered finding Honey or Mordai to help, but he knew a trap when he saw one. Bait for his instructors was a role he refused to play.
Robert had toyed with him. He refused to also be used.
He didn’t know if it was luck, fate, or some other power at play, but before long he found himself at his destination without getting lost or collapsing in an alley. With a variation of something between and stumble and a crawl, he made his way up the grand stairs leading to the Guildhall’s entrance. Once inside, he hurried to the front desk.
“Yer bleedin’ all over the floor,” the [Receptionist] said.
If Snowflake’s emotions weren’t so numb, he might’ve taken offense at the less than welcoming response. As it was, the flame in his mind, the one he’d been feeding his panic and desperation to, grew a degree darker.
“I need-“ Snowflake stumbled over his words, struggling to think of what he needed to say. He came here because it was where he met the only person he thought could help, but he had no idea if they would even be in the area. “Bring Angosin. Tell him… Snowflake asked. Need- I need healing.”
The [Receptionist] grew still at the mention of Angosin’s name, weighing their two options. Assume the broken and bleeding person was lying about knowing the Guild’s second or believe them. They carefully measured the potential outcomes and decided it was better to waste Angosin’s time on the off chance this person wasn’t lying then it was to face Angosin’s wrath if they were telling the truth.
“Guards! ‘Elp me get ‘im to a private room. Someone go an’ fetch Angosin! Tell ‘em ‘Snowflake’ is injured and needs him.”
***
Consciousness was a fleeting friend to Snowflake over the next few hours. He faded after speaking to the rude and hairy [Receptionist] and came back to in a bed located in a secluded room. A gentle voice spoke in the distance.
“Good, you’re awake. The pleasant news is that I am somewhat specialized in healing broken bones. The unpleasant news is that I don’t have a pain numbing Skill. Bite down on this.”
A firm hand wedged a thick strap, tasting of leather, into Snowflake’s mouth. The voice spoke again.
“Alright, let’s see how bad these breaks are. [Examine Injury]. Oof, splintered. You’re lucky I was around. Well… lucky in some ways. Try not to bite off your tongue.”
“Hmph?” Snowflake tried to communicate his confusion, but between his muddled mind and full mouth he was unable to fully articulate his question.
The [Healer] interpreted the question in their own way, not that Snowflake would remember enough of the encounter to protest their version.
“You’re right, you’re right. Enough stalling. Better to just get it over with. [Set Bone]. [Set Bone]. [Set B-“
There was pain. Then there was nothing.
***
When Snowflake woke the second time, Angosin was there sitting beside his bed.
“Snowflake,” Angosin said, displaying a bright smile through his immaculate beard. His eyes had the flinty look of someone contemplating violence, a sharp contrast to his cheery smile. It was disconcerting. “I know I didn’t keep to my promise of finding you in a few days, but surely there were easier ways to get my attention?”
Snowflake let out a half-hearted chuckle at Angosin’s joke. He tried to flex his formerly ruined hand, only to be greeted with shooting pain. A curse leapt from his lips at the unexpected agony. He could have sworn he remembered a [Healer] fixing his injuries.
“Careful.” Angosin was at his side, holding his arm down with a gentle grip and firm pressure. “I had the healer leave the bones broken but reset. Healing them yourself will help speed along your Core progression, and it seems like you need it after... Well, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Snowflake cycled Source into chemical energy, directing it toward his broken bones to heal and strengthen. Honey’s words rose unbidden to his mind. Evolve and overcome. The bitter weight of being helpless in the face of adversity lent the words a weight they hadn’t had before. Dreams of exploring the mystical side of the System seemed much more distant now. The pressure of choosing a Class seemed much more urgent.
With nothing more than his fists and two passive Skills, Robert made a fool of him. He needed similar power of his own.
“Robert, one of Dave the [Berserker’s] cronies cornered me in an alley. Said this,” Snowflake gestured toward his arm and leg with his good hand. “Was for Honey and Mordai calling Dave a coward.”
“Is that so?”
By the dangerous sparkle in Angosin’s eye, Snowflake knew the question was rhetorical. He nodded anyway. In the following silence, Snowflake’s attention turned inward, to dealing with his failure.
There was no doubt in Snowflake’s mind that failure was what it was. He brought his absolute best against the henchman of a foe his instructors couldn’t be bothered to give the time of day, and he was put in his place like he was a child fighting an adult. There were plenty of excuses he could make for himself, he had no Core, no Class, no magic, and very limited training, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to allow himself that mental escape.
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He had lost count of how many people had told him things were different here, the world wouldn’t bend to allow him a way out, but he never believed them before. Not really. Even without his magic he had faith that he would come out of every situation on top. He always had before, why should this place be any different? The others weren’t him. They weren’t special like he was. Or so he thought at the time.
Then, Robert came along and held Snowflake’s life in his hands. There was nothing he could do against such a power disparity. No wily trick he could use to turn the tables. No secret spell he could recite to scrape by with a victory. No hidden ally came to his aid when he needed it most. Robert had absolute control over Snowflake’s life or death, and there was nothing Snowflake could have done to change the outcome.
In that moment of silent reflection, Snowflake made a vow to himself. That was the first and last time he would allow himself to be in that position. Never again.
“There is nothing to feel bad about,” Angosin said. His eyes, full of understanding, caught the light and seemed to glow. “Robert is at least a level 12 [Brawler] with a tier 2 Core. Despite that, I’m sure you put up a good fight. And I promise you that no one with a Class, Robert or otherwise, will bother you until you have one of your own.”
“Don’t kill him.” In the back of his mind Snowflake felt a glimmer of surprise at how dark his tone was. “I have a debt to repay.”
Angosin let out an awkward laugh. “While the thought crossed my mind, it isn’t against Guild policy to scrap. No, I can only remind Dave and his friends that new Awakened are Guild assets with unrealized potential and are therefore off-limits. For you, I will reinforce the concept with a taste of the medicine they gave you.”
“Good.”
Angosin laid a comforting hand on Snowflake’s shoulder. They sat there in silence for several minutes, Snowflake wrestling with his failure and Angosin planning his next move. With a quick pat, Angosin made to rise from his seat beside Snowflake’s bed, presumably to go make good on his promise.
“Wait,” Snowflake said. Angosin paused. “You called me a Guild asset. Honey said that Awakened get caught in debt to the Guild, stuck here instead of conquering the Dungeon and moving on. Is it true?”
The phrasing was awkward, and the way Snowflake communicated his thought process was brief and disjointed, but it got the point across. For the briefest of moments, Angosin’s almost constant smile was more akin to a snarl. It was gone so quick Snowflake thought he might’ve imagined it.
“Yes, unfortunately.” Angosin hesitated. He looked up and to the side, with a squint. His head rocked back and forth like he was weighing two invisible things against each other. After a second, he nodded to himself, obviously coming to a decision. “I’m against it, personally, but the Guildmaster has large ambitions and as long as he enables mine, I can’t exactly complain. Don’t worry too much though. If your [Adaptability] is as useful as I think it might be, you’ll be able to pay off your debt in no time.”
The answer was placating, but it did not set Snowflake’s heart at ease. So, he pushed for more answers.
“I don’t understand why the Guildmaster would do something like that, or how it would further his ambitions in a world that seems to be ruled by martial and magical might.”
“Our Guildmaster is a [Merchant], but like any truly high level or wealthy [Merchant], he isn’t amassing money. He is amassing power,” Angosin said. He continued, his expression one of almost begrudging admiration. “Sure, a lot of Awakened end up in debt due to the Company Store Paradox, but the cream still rises to the top, where he can recruit potential or remove threats. It is less than honest, but clever in its own way.”
Snowflake wasn’t sure how he felt about Angosin’s explanation. He was confused about the reference to ‘the Company Store Paradox,’ he didn’t dare ask him about it for fear of a drawn-out lecture. Instead, he asked what was really on his mind.
“If I don’t pass the Guild assessment in two weeks, will my debt grow big enough to keep me here for a long time? Years?”
Angosin’s silent consideration lasted longer this time. Eventually he answered, albeit with a pained expression.
“Yes. Between the training, food, lodging, healing, and everything else, it is likely you would spend at least a few years here, even after getting strong enough to move on, if the Guild didn’t offer you work exchange deal.”
“Would I have been better off taking my satchel of gear and braving life without the Guild?”
“No, I truly believe that signing on with the Guild is the best way.”
Snowflake accepted the answer without comment. The way he saw it, he could either trust Angosin or not and despite the deceptive nature of the Guild, he didn’t blame Angosin. The man had been welcoming and helpful in two of his lowest moments since arriving here. It wasn’t his fault that the system was rigged.
“I need to pass the assessment, but beyond that I owe Robert a little payback,” Snowflake said, finished with his previous line of questioning. He could figure out the rest himself. “And I want to go further, as far as possible. Will taking a Magic Core and getting the [Mage] Class get me where I want to go? In your opinion.”
Angosin lit up at this. Classes were not only a safe line of questioning; it was something he was passionate about.
“In the short term? No. [Mages] are slow studies, relying on their deep understanding of how energy works and changes the world around them to create spells. They force the System to recognize their spells as Skills, which greatly boosts the efficacy.” Angosin looked thoughtful. He stood up from beside Snowflake’s bed to pace around the small room, processing his thoughts out loud. “As a rule, I believe in focusing your Class and Core, your ‘build’ as some call it, around your Unique Skill, while committing all your resources to a single Class. There is no real point to wasting your previous life. Shoulders of giants and all that. For you- Hmmm… [Adaptability] seems to be focused on physical alteration so a physical Core, but Class?”
“Physical Core?”
“Yes. Cores whose Aspects seem to focus on physically changing the recipient. The most common ones obtained around here are Monster and Beast Cores. Maybe Psionic and Bionic, but no one really knows what those do. In fact, the Guild pays for Class and Core information if you-“
“No,” Snowflake was quick to interrupt before Angosin went too far down that rabbit hole. “I think that maybe a Monster Core would suit my Unique Skill best.”
Although Snowflake believed what he said, he still hadn’t given up on obtaining a Magic Core. A Monster Core would suit him best and probably give him the strength he craved, but a part of him still longed for the familiar feeling of magic coursing through his veins, great and terrible in its mystery.
However, he was in no mood to hear the benefits of trying a mysterious Core for the sake of experimentation. His potential was on the line.
“Yes, I think I agree, but that still leaves the question of Class. Now, you seem suited, at least on paper, toward a Class that focuses on passive physical enhancement Skills. However, I’ve heard rumors of [Summoners] and [Beast Tamers] being able to share their Unique Skill with their minions, to an extent. Hypothetically, you would have to be sure that the Class you choose has minions with access to levels and Skills, or else your Unique Skill would be wasted on them. But, if you did, you could have a small army of creatures beholden to you, that were also boosted by the effects of [Adaptability].”
A small army of creatures all benefiting from him? He could find and raise magical beasts while still studying magic to support them. It seemed perfect for him, marrying his dream of animal husbandry with his penchant for magic.
It was too perfect.
“How reliable are these rumors?”
“Rumors are just that,” Angosin said with a shrug and a smile. “You could always access the Guild’s archive of Classes and Skills. It would be expensive. Almost prohibitively so. However, if you do, the information on how to gain the Class is often included.”
Snowflake agreed to consider it. They made some more, small, conversation, but soon Angosin left Snowflake to rest. Alone with his thoughts, Snowflake agonized over his future and how to face it. The bitter sting of his last failure haunted his every consideration as he tried to find the perfect path forward.