“Sure, you hear that some guy got a dragon as a Soulbound companion but when I try it I get this freaking skeleton. Don’t get me wrong, I love Clickclack, but he doesn’t fly or breathe fire. Also… well… he likes to cuddle. It’s weird.”
-Gerard, level 30 [Guardian]
-
For the umpteenth time, Snowflake paused to check his reflection. He made a face, looking at himself from different angles, before running a finger across his teeth. They didn’t look any different but he thought they felt sharper. Maybe he was imagining it. He examined his ears, tugging at them to provide better viewing positions. He could’ve sworn they were pointier today than they had been, but when push came to shove, he wasn’t sure. His nails were longer, sharper. Almost like claws…. Maybe. He couldn’t remember the last time he clipped them.
With a shake of his head, he kept walking. Maybe he was starting to change to better resemble a monster. Probably not. Either way, there was something much more important on his mind. Today was the day he got his Soulbound companion. There was a skip in his step and he was practically buzzing with excitement.
Part of him was tempted to use some of the Source thrumming in such an accessible way in his chest to boost his steps to the training ground. The only reason he resisted the temptation was because he didn’t want to waste time mending a broken bone or two if he messed up.
Today was the day. He was so ready for it. The stress of his Class, and how that choice would affect his future, was on hold. He was allowing himself to enjoy this moment. Any intruding thoughts or emotions would wind up getting fed to the flame.
As he made his way along, his mind drifted to the endless possibilities of Soulbound companions he could obtain, and the excitement that the randomness held. He had made a point to flip through a bestiary of all the documented creatures in the Dungeon and his imagination ran wild with what his future could hold. Gambling had never been one of his vices, but more and more he could see the appeal.
A flying beast would be his first choice. Something large enough to carry him through the sky, to the world of endless clouds so far above him. Something large and tough would also be ideal, able to fend off his foes while he supported it from behind, as soon as he learned how to cast spells like [Fireball] and [Lightning Bolt].
Even if he got something traditionally weak and unassuming, like a slime, he would cultivate it into something worthy of legends. He would evolve his slime into a titanic ooze, inconvenient as a pet, but able to devour cities. Speaking of titanic pets, he had read of a beast inhabiting the Dungeon that was the size and shape of a literal mountain. They more a mountain on their back like a shell. Fascinating.
Maybe he would get a golem of living metal like Honey’s! It could cover him like a suit of armor, enhancing his every move as they worked together as a seamless team. Or a mimic! Able to take any form and always be what he needed.
There was really only one type of creature that he would be reluctant to bond. Humanoid creatures, especially ones as intelligent a people, were something he would like to avoid. It just… it didn’t sit well with him. It stank of magical slavery and an uncomfortable dynamic.
But enough of that! The odds were low and he would cross that bridge if he came to it.
As soon as he made it to the training field, he broke into a jog. A dignified, not at all erratic, jog that by no means left him breathless due to the fact that it was actually an all-out sprint. Just because he was not the powerful mage and hero he had once been, did not mean he couldn’t conjure a bit of dignity.
After all, he waited until the training grounds to run. That had to count for something.
Honey and Mordai were waiting for him at their usual spot. Ra’hel and Bonehammer were yet to arrive.
“G-guess wha-what,” Snowflake said, only remembering to cycle chemical energy to reduce oxygen needs after he already began to speak. He felt his cheek ache at the smile that threatened to tear his face in half.
“You’d better be core-ful Honey,” Mordai paused for emphasis, taking a subtle step out of Honey’s swinging range. “Looks like Snowflake might be able to put up a fight now,”
“I guess I must stop taking it easy on him then,” Honey undercut the sharp words with a playful grin.
“Don’t tell us whatcha chose.” Mordai leaned closer to peer at Snowflake, looking him up and down in great detail. “I wanna guess.”
“Too easy.” Honey leaned in next to him. The crowding and slight objectification Snowflake felt was smothered under the blooming pride and excitement in his chest. “He is obsessed with magic. There is no way he would give up on the romance and mystery of a Magic Core to actually do something beneficial for himself.”
“Hey!”
“She’s gotta point Snowflake, but I reckon I know you better,” Mordai said. He gazed deep into Snowflake’s eyes. So deep that Snowflake began to grow uncomfortable. It was an intimate moment. Mordai seemed to find what he was looking for in the depths of Snowflake’s gaze, because he took a step back, fishing out what looked like a crystal sphere from his armor. “I’ll bet a tier two Core that we hava monster on our hands.”
“Deal. Spit it out, Snowflake.”
Instead of telling them, Snowflake turned to Mordai and said, “How did you know?”
“Red-tinge to the eyes. Gives it away every time. Magic woulda been blue, beast yellow, spirit white-“
“Urgh, I forgot you do that,” Honey handed Mordai a crystal sphere with a begrudging expression.
“Should I expect any other physical transformations at the first tier?”
“Depends.”
“I dunno.”
“I do know one or two ways to tell if there are any differences,” Honey said after a moment, a sly grin splitting her dark-skinned features. The white ‘war paint’ on her face, which Snowflake now recognized as markings of her badger heritage, cast her every expression in a fierce light. It made him nervous. “Obstacle course or a nice, friendly spar. You choose.”
“Obstacle course!” Snowflake knew a beating when he saw one. Besides, he was in a hurry and healing took time. “Then we’re going to the Dungeon and I’m getting my companion!”
Without waiting for a response, he sprinted toward the obstacle course. He reached for the Source in his chest, guiding it through his veins and into every inch of his flesh. At his behest, it followed the pathways of blood he had studied most days since coming here. It surged through him, responding to his call with an ease he had never felt before now. Potential energy became chemical, nourishing his muscles and strengthening his bones. The tendons and ligaments that held with together strained and threatened to tear, but he strengthened the chemical bonds holding them together.
He was faster and stronger than he had ever been before, even without the wind blowing at his back. The world didn’t shift to allow him passage the way it used to, instead he gritted his teeth and made a path, the hard way. He leapt, swung, and muscled his way through the course’s lower level, completing it with ease instead of the struggle he was used to.
He sprinted all the way back to his instructors, rejoicing in the pure accomplishment he felt from using his body and succeeding. Source flowed from his surroundings into his Core, replenishing his stores much faster than he was used to.
“Not too bad!” Mordai said, giving him an armored thumbs-up.
“The first step to forging a blade is to melt the impurity from the iron,” Bonehammer, newly arrived, said, earning them a puzzled look from all present. After an awkward pause, they stumbled to explain themselves. “Before, he was unworthy of training into a proper warrior but now that he has basic physical fitness the lessons may take! He is like an ingot newly minted from raw ore and ready to be melted and hammered into shape.”
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“You are not wrong,” Honey gave the flustered dryad a light pat on the shoulder. “Nonetheless, we have an appointment. You have done well, Snowflake. Let us go see if your luck holds.”
The trip to the Dungeon was not long, but to Snowflake it stretched for ages. They entered through a door similar to the Armory, but adorned with a two battling dragons. One had a metallic sheen, while the other was matte black.
Honey pushed the door open and ushered Snowflake into yet another strange room where he beheld an equally strange sight.
Eggs. Eggs everywhere. They rose in columns as if holding up the vast ceiling far overhead. Eggs coated the floor in what was practically an ocean of eggs, with flowing peaks and valleys that accompanied such imagery.
There were big eggs, some taller and wider than Snowflake and some approaching the size of a house. Small eggs, ranging from the size of his head to the size of the fingernail adorning his pinky finger. And of course, all the sizes in between the two extremes.
They walked along a small path leading through the eggs. Along the way, there were many more strange sights. An egg covered in feathers, one in scales, yet another in a writhing, multicolored mist. What intrigued Snowflake the most though, was a pitch black egg with what appeared to be chains crafted of glowing blue runes. It was on the edge of the pathway, just far away enough that he would have to stretch.
He reached for it.
A slap hit him from out of nowhere.
“No touching!” The slap rocked Snowflake, causing him to heal and prod his face for broken bones, on instinct. It was a tremendous amount of force given that it appeared to have been delivered by what looked to be a mechanical fairy, complete with wings and miniscule stature. He wondered if it had used Source to augment the blow or if it was just that strong. “It’s like none of you people read the signs! Freaking Awakened. Arrogant blight on this world, I say.”
“What signs?” Snowflake healed himself and marveled at the tiny creature with exposed pistons and gears made of what looked to be bronze and steel. Was it a golem? Or maybe this was the result of the Aspect of one of those strange Cores?
“The signs over there on the wall!” The fairy gestured with a wild motion. Snowflake looked in the direction they pointed, but could see no walls, only eggs. He looked to Honey, but she just smirked. Tad bit of a mean sense of humor that one. “Ugh, people like you are the reason I have to keep these things around, cluttering up the place.”
So saying, the fairy zipped away, almost too fast to see. It returned within seconds, thrusting a piece of paper into Snowflake’s face. It read:
Lottery Rules:
1. No touching the eggs under any circumstances, unless instructed.
2. You may only enter once. All other creatures must be obtained without Dungeon assistance.
3. All results are final and eternally binding.
4. Appointed [Stable Master] has full, unilateral authority
5. Any breaches in the letter, or spirit, of these rules will be met with violence.
All and all, pretty simple. You get one egg, via the Lottery, or the fairy will try to kill you.
“Thank you,” Snowflake said, deciding there was no harm in being polite. “I didn’t see the sign earlier.”
The fairy hovered inches away Snowflake’s face, a thoughtful expression on its own.
“Hrm, well, you didn’t touch the egg so I suppose you may still enter the Lottery…” The fairy flew in a slow circle around Snowflake’s head, pondering something. “However, you seem quite intrigued by this egg. Care to play a game for it?”
Snowflake was indeed intrigued by the egg. He was drawn to it in a way he did not understand. Perhaps his destiny was finally playing its hand and showing him the direction he must take to regain what he lost. If he could Soulbond the creature inside, it would be a powerful ally. He knew that which such certainty that it ached in his bones.
However, he felt suspicious of the fairy’s sudden change of heart.
“Maybe,” Snowflake said, choosing his next words with care. “What are the rules and drawbacks to this game?”
“Pah, rules and drawbacks.” The fairy scoffed, doing an aggravated backflip, their wings humming with a mechanical whir. “How will you ever advance if you focus on those instead of the rewards?! Eyes on the prize, as you humans are apt to say.”
“Still.”
“Fine. The rules are as such; in exchange for your Lottery chance you will answer my riddle. If you answer correct, I will gift you the egg you seek. Answer wrong, and I will choose an egg for you.”
“Not just an egg,” Honey cut in, addressing Snowflake. “You must agree to be granted a living creature, contained within an egg.”
The fairy hissed, flying at Honey. She stood her ground, unflinching. With another set of acrobatics, the fairy pulled away just before striking her in the face.
“Mind your business, beast! Two consenting parties are making a deal. We have no need for your chatter.”
“No,” Snowflake said. His gaze lingered with a longing expression on the mystical looking egg before him, but his mind was far from captivated by the fairy’s bargain. “She is right. In both scenarios I must be guaranteed a living, bondable creature or I would rather take my chances.”
“Ah, yes. Of course an Awakened, untouched by the cruel realities of fate, would leave such an important decision up to chance. Fool.” So saying, the fairy zipped away into the ocean of eggs.
With a shrug, Honey took the lead and guided them along their path. Before long they reached the end, marked by a massive steel counter. Behind the counter was a grand contraption made of burnished bronze and dark iron. It covered the wall, as far as Snowflake could see in either direction, a great thing of gears and pulleys. A tube led from the machine to the surface of a counter, a basket beneath it. As Snowflake stood on his tip toes to peer over the counter, he could see a series of buttons and levers.
“I have considered your condition,” a voice piped up, surprising Snowflake. The fairy stood on the desk with its arms crossed, tapping one tiny foot. “And I agree. Exchange your Lottery chance for a game with me and I will grant you an egg containing a living creature.”
Honey grabbed Snowflake’s shoulder before he could speak. In a tone that allowed for no argument she said, “If he wins, you will grant him the living creature he desires.”
“Yes, yes. I will grant him the egg, and the creature contained within, marked by the chains forged of runes, if he answers my riddle correct. Do you agree, Awakened?”
Snowflake considered it for a long moment, but saw no flaw in the wording. Either way he would gain a Soulbound companion and that was what he was here for. He was not afraid of the fairy choosing a weak creature for him, because he was confident in his ability to nurture and evolve such a creature.
“I agree.”
“So it is struck.” On a face so small, Snowflake had trouble making out the finer details of the fairy’s expression. However, it still made him feel uneasy. “My riddle is thus:
Awakened, awakened from beneath their home’s sky.
They lived a life of wonder,
Never felt the fear of those who die.
When in our worlds they blunder,
How will they know if they are as real as you or I?”
Honey made a sound of disgust in the back of her throat. Snowflake wondered what he had gotten himself into. The fairy cackled.
Snowflake supposed that a riddle dealing with reality and sense of self was something he should have expected, but in reality he was thinking something along the lines of ‘what walks on four legs in the morning, two in the afternoon, and three at night?’ At least that riddle had a definitive answer.
Seconds stretched to minutes as Snowflake wracked his brain. A cold sweat began to trickle down his spine. It was doubtful that he would come out on top of this. Unable to find an answer, Snowflake gave the only answer he though was somewhat plausible.
“Well, Awakened have their Unique Skill that acts as a distilled record of their past life. They could use that as proof that they’re real.”
“HA! You fool!” The fairy danced in delight, twirling inches above the ground. “None can know! The correct answer is ‘I don’t know.’ Oh the folly. The hubris! Truly this is a joyous occasion.”
“Oh damn.”
“May fortune be your friend today, Awakened, for I will choose your Soulbound from the mutants and misfits the Dungeon produces. Those so deviated from their original purpose that they have become unusable to it.”
The fairy pulled a lever from behind the desk. In response, the great gears began to spin. The floor echoed and rumbled as it began to move. Eggs shifted, columns collapsing and rising. Great mountains of multicolored and textured eggs rose, just to collapse into waves. A shadowy shape appeared amongst the gears, rolling and spinning, until it finally fell down the tube, landing in the basket on the counter with a plop.
It was a plain egg, speckled like a bird’s might be and about the size of Snowflake’s head. The fairy searched Snowflake’s face. Not finding what it wanted, it scowled and flew at Snowflake’s hand. Snowflake felt a sharp pain in his hand. He was bleeding.
“A bargain struck must be fulfilled. Place a drop of blood on the egg and let your Source flow through it.”
Snowflake did as the fairy instructed. He fed his bitter disappointment—it was a paltry thing compared to the bitterness that spawned his choice for a Monster Core-- to the flame and focused on the task at hand. It seemed like a normal creature’s egg as far as he could tell. A living, bondable creature, even if it wasn’t the one he wanted.
He placed one bloody hand on the egg and pushed raw, untransformed Source from his Core through the wound, and into the creature beneath the shell. It flowed out of him faster than he could replenish his stores, leaving him feeling emptier with each passing second.
Honey laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He braced himself for a horrible and hideous creature.
When his Core was close to empty, something changed. The egg began to crack, emitting a glowing light from beneath its fractured surface. Then, he felt something flowing back into him. Not Source, something far more intimate. The cracks spread, until at last a creature emerged.
It was a cat.
No, a kitten the size of a full grown house cat. It had fluffy white fur with dark grey highlights on its joints, down its spine, and covering its oddly long tail. The creature blinked up at him, wide eyes taking in the world for the first time. He picked it up and cradled it like a babe. It reached up at him with too-big paws as its tail wrapped around his arm.
“Soulbound to a mutant,” the fairy crowed. “An off cast! A deformed one. How fitting!”
“It’s a little girl,” Honey said, her whisper somehow louder than the fairy’s mocking chants. “What will you name her?”
He gazed into his Soulbound companion’s pale blue eyes, felt her boundless affection flowing through the unfathomable bond that tied them together, and only one name came to him. Despite how hard he wrack his mind, still only this name appeared. His first love had eyes like those. The memory of her was burned into his being, no matter how many people claimed his former life was fake.
“Nevasca,” he said.