Snowflake sat on the front steps leading up to the Dungeon. He closed his eyes and felt the warm glow of the sun against his skin. The stone beneath him was cool and hard; smooth marble worn away by use. He could smell street food cooked with unfamiliar spices in the distance. The distant clamor of voices echoed from the marketplace. His mind sank into his body, feeling every minor ache and pain. Angosin’s voice droned in the background and slowly, ever so slowly, Snowflake released his hold on tactile sensations.
“Your mind releases its hold on your body. You are it and it is you. Exhale and relax into your Soulspace. Open your perception and allow yourself to see without sight.”
Snowflake did as Angosin said. It took a few tries, but he soon found himself in a strange, yet familiar place. It reminded him of the nothingness where the celestial had rebuked him. Unlike there, his Soulspace was not entirely devoid of light and darkness. In the distance, a speck of light hung. Darkness lingered around it, like an empty room waiting to be filled. He drew closer to the speck of light and knew it for what it was. His Unique Skill. It shone like a distant star, just like Angosin said it would. He had assured Snowflake that someday, as he grew in the ways of this new world, his Soulspace would be more than the desolate void he found himself in.
For now, there was only this faint speck of light. Maybe with time and effort it would burn as bright as the sun that warmed his face. Maybe.
Snowflake reached out to grasp it with ethereal hands, and the System spoke to him.
[Unique Skill: Adaptability]
[Skill Type: Passive]
[Skill Description: Aspects, Skills, and Classes that alter the user have a more pronounced effect.]
The words hung in his mind, not so much a voice or written language but more a gift of knowledge.
Snowflake could not help but feel disappointed. Disappointed and ashamed. He wasn’t sure what he had hoped for. Something more substantial, at the very least. This was so… so… vague. Before finding out what his Unique Skill was, he had not even realized how much he hoped it would be something that would help him navigate the dark, unfamiliar waters that seemed to close in on him. Even with the goddess’ last gift, he was still alone. [Adaptability] would force him to plunge deep into those waters to find out what it could do for him. No light guided his path.
A burning sensation of shame followed close behind the disappointment. His goddess, a being of pure magic, magic itself perhaps, sacrificed herself to bring him here. She bought this Unique Skill with her life and how did he treat her gift? With disappointment. Maybe the celestial was right about him.
“Snowflake.”
A gentle hand and rich, soothing voice roused him from the place between wakefulness and sleep. He looked up to see Angosin peering down. The shadow of the great tower, the Dungeon, had shifted to cover them. The warmth of the sun fled before its towering might, and Snowflake felt a chill.
“Well?” Angosin met his eyes, his face beaming with innocent curiosity. Snowflake felt a tingling warmth in his chest, a contrast to the physical cold. This man was taking the time to teach him and show him around on perhaps the darkest and most confusing day of his life.
It felt good that someone was here for him. Someone who cared.
With that thought, he pushed his disappointment and shame away. He fed them into the flame he conjured in his mind. There was no point in dwelling on the darkness.
Someday he would pay his debt to the goddess, his Magic. She had told him to live well; demanded that he grow and change. Her gift to him may be the key to her request.
“My Unique Skill is [Adaptability],” Snowflake said, explaining to the other man what the Skill did.
“Fascinating,” Angosin’s look of innocent curiosity morphed into something that was more akin to predatory interest, if such a thing existed. “It sounds like a double-edged sword, but with the right Class and combination of Skills you could grow to be a veritable force of nature.”
“A double-edged sword?”
“Did you not have that saying in your world?” Angosin’s face held a look of mild surprise, but his voice could not contain the condescending tone that laced his words. “It means that something is both good and bad. Here, your [Adaptability] doesn’t specify that only your Skills and such will have a more pronounced effect. It is possible that people with Classes and Skills that control others will control you far easier than they would otherwise. Probable even.”
Angosin trailed off as he caught the look on Snowflake’s face at his words. A double-edged sword indeed. The irony of wishing for direction mere moments before and then having it thrust upon him in an unsavory way was… well, it was unsettling. Classes and Skills were still a mystery. However, it sounded a lot like magic. If there was anything that Snowflake excelled at, it was the arcane arts.
“Don’t worry, Snowflake,” Angosin’s smile was warm and comforting as he laid a hand on Snowflake’s shoulder. “We will work something out. But first! I have something interesting I want to show you.”
***
“This is one of three facilities the Dungeon has. We call it the Armory. I know, I know. The naming sense around here isn’t exactly on the cutting edge of creativity.”
Snowflake gazed in amazement at the place Angosin led him to. They walked through a simple door, engraved with a stylized sword, into a cavernous space filled with strange machines and devices. Next to each item was a moving painting of light, showing how the thing functioned and what it did. There were vehicles and armors that he had never thought to dream of, even with the limitless possibilities afforded to him by the magic of his home.
A giant beast wrought of steel caught Snowflake's eyes. It looked similar to an artic impression of a mix between an oversized triangle and a diving dragon. The painting of light whirled and shifted, forming to show the metal device for what it was. The thing was a machine with a human inside, eternities more complex than any watermill. With the aid of a pillar forged from flame, it took to the air, flying faster than any creature he had seen before. It hurled bolts of metal to the ground, which exploded like fireballs.
Fascinated, he examined the machine for runes or enchantments of any kind. It startled him to find it was mundane in all ways. The only thing arcane about it was the inhuman craftsmanship. Perhaps it was a creation of the Ancients?
“I see you found the fighter jet. Looks fun, right?” Angosin said.
Angosin’s casual attitude took Snowflake aback.
“Are such devices common?”
Snowflake felt a twinge of fear as he watched the display of power repeat itself on the painting of light. In his old world he could have cleaved the thing out of the sky without a second thought, but without his magic…
“No, no,” Angosin waved his worries away. “The Guild’s top [Blacksmiths], [Engineers], and magitech specialists investigated building a few but deemed it impractical. Not only would the cost and effort be horrendous, it would be a risky investment given how easily a high-level combat Class could take it down. Besides, you can’t exactly fly one of these into the Dungeon.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
That presented a different host of issues. If any person he passed on the street could wield such power, he may never have enough time to grow.
“Are high-level combat Classes common then?”
“Well,” Angosin shifted. “Not so much down here, but the assumption is that they will be a dime a dozen once you ascend the Dungeon.”
“So,” Snowflake said, pondering the information. The painting of lights repeated itself once against, caught in an endless loop. With a minor effort of will, he envisioned a flame in his mind. He fed his anxiety to it. “The Dungeon’s purpose is to be ascended. What lies beyond?”
With a light cough, Angosin ignored the question and steered him away from the fighter jet, past a moving painting of a man holding a strange stick, and to a door behind the display. They entered the door and found themselves in a room like none Snowflake had ever seen. On one wall hung hundreds of variations of the stick the man in the picture held. A low counter blocked the rest of the room off. Behind the counter, at least a hundred feet away, were human shaped statues made of various materials at various ranges. The furthest was barely visible to his naked eye.
Snowflake’s finger twitched. He could feel his pulse quickening. As curious as he was about this strange room, it was not an answer to his question.
“This,” Angosin said, grabbing a crooked metal stick off the wall and ushered Snowflake over to the counter. “Is a gun. An assault rifle, specifically. The Armory shows us the heights of technology that we can expect to encounter once we’ve successfully climbed the Dungeon and ascended to the melting pot that the System refers to as the ‘Realms.’ Machines like these guns become commonplace about a third of the way up the Dungeon.”
Snowflake’s tension eased. He mentally chastised himself for his impatience and thanked his lucky stars he had not spoken up. None the wiser, Angosin took the device apart, showing Snowflake how it was put together. He spoke as he worked, his hands moving with familiar ease.
“Now, the Dungeon gives you the choice of climbing it with violence or knowledge, so you won’t have to face enemies wielding these, if you so choose. However, it is important to know what a gun can do, especially since they’re so simple that even the most mindless of the undead can use one.”
So saying, Angosin lifted the reassembled device to his shoulder and twitched his finger. A rapid staccato of eardrum piercing noise rang out. Grinning apologetically, Angosin pushed a button and a metal statue moved from the distance to just behind the counter.
Holding his ears in pain, Snowflake shot Angosin a dirty look, but still turned to study the statue when Angosin motioned at it. At second glance, the statue wasn’t metal, but a lifelike doll wearing full plate armor. Holes riddled the armor. Snowflake’s mind raced at the implications.
“Like a sword through paper,” Snowflake said, his voice an awed whisper.
“Impressive, right? The Library, another Dungeon facility, has mountains of information on how to make these and how they change the face of war. The Guild has developed several versions using runes and enchantments, but we view them as a coward’s weapon.”
“I can imagine,” Snowflake reached out to take the gun into his hands. The destructive capacity of the device was decent, but not much compared to a spell like Fireball or Chain Lightning. No, what was impressive was the ease of use. Anyone could point and shoot with such a weapon. No talent or training required. He had seen no incantation, nor runes, or arcana of any kind. It was a device for the masses to bring the powerful low. Or, perhaps, it could enable those with vicious tendencies to act on them with impunity.
“I know that look,” Angosin gave him a nudge and a wink. “Before you dream of conquering the world with an army of golems equipped with these, there are a few things you should know.”
Angosin fished a small steel ball from a pouch at his side, about the size of a marble, and started playing with it.
“The magic here is probably different than where you came from,” the ball rose above his palm and began to spin, waves of heat radiating off it. “We call it ‘Source’ because it is a limitless pool of potential energy that infuses everything around us. Our Cores are a personal supply of Source we store in our body for quicker and easier access. Cantrips, the most basic of magic, is just transitioning Source from potential energy to one of the other base energies.”
The ball burned a cherry red as it moved from Angosin’s palm to the tip of his forefinger. He folded all of his fingers, except for his forefinger and thumb. He pointed his forefinger down toward the other armor wearing dolls. The ball, suspended in the air at the tip of his finger, became an oscillating blur of red. He continued to speak.
“The Library teaches how these energies are used, including ways to make materials tough enough to withstand guns in all their glory. Even though most of us abandon cantrips and spells, their more complicated variation, to pursue Classes and Skills, cantrips themselves pack more than enough power to dwarf most of these technological advances in utility.”
Snowflake’s mind clung to this meager explanation like sand introduced to water. For as long as he could remember, magic had been his lifeblood. Classes, Skills, Aspects, and mundane technology were new and confusing. But magic? Magic was where he shone brightest.
“What I am doing is technically a spell, or series of cantrips used to create a more profound effect. I am converting Source into electrical energy to manipulate the metal, thermal energy to give it more piercing power, and kinetic energy to propel it.” was all Angosin said before dropping his outstretched thumb. A blast of wind almost lifted Snowflake off his feet. He threw his arms over his face on instinct, reaching for magic to form a barrier in front of him. Magic did not heed his call. The only thing he had to protect him were his arms. Poor defenses such as those could not protect him from the blast of noise and heat that washed over him.
The next thing he knew, Angosin was helping him off the ground with a sheepish look on his face. Snowflake’s breath came in ragged gasps.
“What happened?”
“Um,” Angosin’s eyes shifted to the opposite side of the long room, hundreds of feet away, where a massive crater dented the wall. “I may have overdone it.”
His sheepish look bloomed into a childlike grin.
“But it was cool, right?”
***
After several apologies and a strange, invigorating ‘cantrip,’ Angosin led Snowflake out of the Armory to continue their tour.
“You’re saying a single spell err- a cantrip is used for healing, strengthening, and invigorating the body AND reinforcing mundane materials? This reinforcement is used to do things like turn cloth into a material as strong or stronger than steel armor?” Snowflake tried to hide the incredulity in his voice, but the sparkle in Angosin’s eyes made him sure that the other man could sense it.
“Yes, that is exactly what I am saying. Each energy type has a multitude of uses if you understand how to apply it. Chemical energy, specifically, can accelerate your body’s healing functions to superhuman rates and strengthen the chemical bonds between atoms to increase their tensile strength or-“
“Wait, wait.” Snowflake cast about for a quill and a piece of parchment. He dug into the satchel he arrived into this world with. “Explain what an atom is. Also, you said something about ATP being the currency of life? You can create it with chemical energy? What can you buy?”
“I’ll try to explain on the way to the Library, but in my experience the best way to learn is-”
“While you’re explaining that, could you also explain why you said people abandon magic to focus on Classes and Skills? With such easy to use and versatile magic it seems idiotic to abandon it,” Snowflake cut in, mind racing. Sure, the magic was simplistic in some ways, but the potential it held.
“That one is easier to explain,” Angosin smiled, caught up in Snowflake’s enthusiasm. “Let us take the spell [Fireball] as an example, a staple for many [Pyromancers]. All that a [Pyromancer] must do to learn to cast [Fireball] is earn their Class and level it until the System grants them the Skill. In contrast, if you wanted to cast [Fireball] using Ambient Magic, which is what we call the cantrip and spell system, you would have to use electrical energy to separate hydrogen and oxygen, package it into a shell, and somehow ignite and throw it without it burning up on the way to your target.”
“Or ignite it on impact,” Snowflake said, rushing to catch up with Angosin. A kindly stranger had given him a pen and a scrap of paper out of a pile they used for receipts. “Oxygen I know, but hydrogen?”
“And so, we circle back to atoms. Atoms are what-“ Angosin cut off mid-sentence and held up a finger to Snowflake, the other going to touch his ear. He nodded along as if listening to something. “Change of plans, we are going to meet your instructors.”
Snowflake felt a twinge of disappointment deep in his chest. Angosin was a fountain of knowledge. His willingness to chat about magic theory and its application was a true blessing, even if Snowflake had to keep him from going on and on about a single subject. He wasn’t sure when he would get another chance to have all his questions answered like this.
“Don’t worry, Snowflake,” Angosin said, displaying an uncanny ability to guess what Snowflake was thinking and feeling. Another time, it might have but Snowflake on edge. As it was, Snowflake was far too focused on other matters to take note. “Most new Awakened fare better if they have something visceral to do instead of dwelling on the past. Besides, I just found out who your instructor is, and I can promise you’ll be on your way to becoming adept at using chemical energy soon enough.”
Snowflake did not like the way he said that. Nor did he like the way he laughed after, or how he continued to giggle on their way to the Guild’s training grounds.