Standing in the endless field of dark, some lights and a smaller aurora above me, I stared into the noodly face of a newly named Sophia while she grossed me out with her talk of getting squicky with another spirit. Truly, it was a mortifying experience that I will never recover from.
“It’s been way too long of a day to deal with this.”
“Oh, come on Saphine… We're both grown up, stop acting like a baby or, what was it called… A virgin? Yeh, stop being a virgin.”
“Hey… Don’t go binging up stuff like that… I mean, that’s for after marriage, so.”
She looked at me, aghast.
“Saphine… No, what are you doing? Okay, you obviously need some more [Guidance] than I thought. Saphine, the reason why that’s for after marriage is to make sure you don’t accidentally get a kid, so unless your mushy [Druid] is hiding that she has a secret wand, you don’t have to save yourself.”
I could feel myself blushing a little.
“I’m not a kid, and I don’t need you to weigh in on my private life. Also, don’t go calling Anna names.”
“Gotcha, no poking the [Druid], but Saphy, dearest little Saphy. You are a kid, or at least you are to me. I’ve literally been here since you started having weird dreams about boobs, do you honestly think I’m going to let you flub a relationship and become a total downer for, like, forever?”
That was embarrassing. I didn’t get embarrassed easily, but I couldn’t help but get embarrassed at a prior version of myself. A ghost of the past, hell-bent on making me feel like a hormonal idiot, some six or more years on.
“You. You! Don’t go getting on my case. It’s not like-” She cut me off, pressing a finger to where my mouth would normally be, which elicited a weird, jiggly feeling.
“Saphine, I’m a [Guide], it's not just for show. Have you ever thought about getting someone to check your blind spots? Because you know you have them, so there's no excuse.”
Did I want her help?
Did I want someone to pick through my life and find my blind spots?
“I can see you thinking about it, so how about this, tell me about your thoughts while you pick your skills. You can go through all of them and pick them out, class by class, and just talk, that’s all, and I’ll lend an ear?”
Well. That was a whole lot less intrusive, at least in feel. Even if I knew that she was trying to pry a little. I could always just ignore her or skirt around things if I didn’t want to tell her, and it wasn’t like I disliked her.
She was kind of like a friend, but one you only met like a few times a year. Too estranged to be real friends but too close to be strangers.
What’s the word for it? An acquaintance? I don’t know the word sounds so… Sterile.
I didn’t know if there was a word for what I had with the guide. Words were for us, for us in our meaty complexity. Words were for us to describe the world around us, I had a feeling that the [Guides], as spirits, did not need them the way we so desperately did.
It was just a feeling, but like many of my feelings, it was rather damn accurate. Even in my state, my wisdom guided me.
And it urged me to say yes.
“Sure, Ill pick, and you can listen to me talk about life, I guess.”
“Atta girl, ok then, let me use a new skill on you, and just let me say, you’re a great source of levels for me. I’m glad to say I can now help you make choices while you're not dreaming. I’ll show you your Top Three Picks.”
She spoke the words in the same power, with the same rhyme and reason as when she spoke before when she pulled the experience down and into me to level me up. But it was not focused on me, but in front of me, in a very similar way as with another spell, I knew.
A box resolved before me, as well as a box, could in a place with no sound, or sight, or light, or at least not real light, and sight and sound. The sound that wasn’t sound writing invisibly before me gained a tangential quality that left it visible without visibility.
It was a bizarre thing to see, but before me, it was a box very much like [Status], just much, much longer.
Class: [Grave Digger]
Levels Gained: 7
Skills Gained: 4
Skill Quality: Unusual
Top Three Picks:
[Tool Expertise]
Passive
Prerequisites: [Tool Proficiency]
Additional Proficiency with tools, stats scale with Proficiency bonus. (PB/2) for each stat when in use.
[Magical Tools]
Passive
Magically enhances your tools, making them magical tools.
[Burry]
Active
Rapidly bury the deceased, forming a viable grave to house a body.
Top Three Picks:
[Detect Sanctified Ground]
Passive
Detect the presence of Sanctified Ground, like in a churchyard.
[Graveyard Shift]
Passive
Let’s you use Resilience and Spirit to resist the need to sleep.
[Shovel Stones]
Active
Let the [Grave Digger] dig through stoney earth.
Top Three Picks:
[Grave Tender]
Passive
Taking care of a grave keeps it safe from intrusion, preventing the removal of the body.
[Shovel Work]
Passive
Burying a body grants bonus experience.
Killing with a shovel grants bonus experience.
[Sanctify]
Active
Sanctify a burial, stopping the body from rising from its grave.
Top Three Picks:
[Grave Magic Affinity]
Passive
Grants an affinity for grave magic, increasing the capability for manipulation and a greater ability to form the mana.
[Earth Magic Affinity]
Passive
Grants an affinity for earth magic, increasing the capability for manipulation and a greater ability to call it forth.
[Mortal Wound]
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Active
Activate to insulate a wound with death magic, cutting if off from magics that could mend it.
The wound lasts for the damage delt x (PB/2) minutes.
I looked over the long list, paying more attention to the skills of my main class.
“That,” I told her, “Is a very long list of skills.”
“Yeh, but think of it this way: it’s way shorter than all of the skills you could get. It just shows three unique skills for each possible skill you can pick, so don’t go thinking you have to pick between each set of three. So… tell me about your life, how’s it going?”
I decided to sit down on the dark lake. It was comfortable enough. And I started going through the first little stint for my [Grave Digger] class.
“Well, I think it's going good, definitely better than it was before I crawled into the grave.”
She nodded politely, “That’s good, that’s good, how’s your girlfriend?”
“Good, I think, I don’t think she has anything weighing her down.”
“Ok, good to know. Anything you want to talk about? There’s some stress going on in your life, no?”
I was trying to pay attention to the skills, reading the descriptions for the first time in a way I was aware of and would likely remember. I was finally able to try and understand them, and in doing so, I replied pausingly, not thinking out the words beyond the instinct needed to call them out.
“I don’t know how to deal with the Monster I fought today. It can get back up when I kill it.”
All three skills in the top row felt like things I would like, something of a second proficiency in tools would make a great difference. If I understood it right, it would literally double my effectiveness with any tool, not just my shovel. The second would make my tools magical, though I had only seen one mention of magical tools before, I had to assume that it could be quite the bonus. The active skill was… I don’t know, but it could work well enough if I took down a gremlin, I could have immediately hidden them in the soil, and more importantly, was the information about ‘viable graves.’
To me, a hole was a hole, but I supposed that to mana, something selective, there might be a difference between a hole and a grave.
Important information you were unlikely to find in normal conversation.
“That’s something of a shock, but it’s a relatively normal thing for powerful beings and their servants, if they could be killed by a random cut, they would have a dreadfully poor success rate. They are conditional. However, they can't come back if their souls are cast to the other side unless they have something to guide them back over, like a Phylactery. If you can send them over, they’re gone, caput. You can do that, so I don’t know why you didn’t.”
“That’s all well and good,” I told her, a bit of snark edging it, “but I can’t even send the soul of a child over, it bit me, and I don’t particularly want to find out what being bitten by the monster feels like.”
“Wow, it bit you? Crazy… You could, you know, just send it over by force? Or bring them to sanctified ground to purify them.”
That would make [Detect Sanctified Ground] an interesting pick, the other two are less appealing. I have no problem with sleeping, and while being able to ignore stones while I shovel would be nice, I have [Durable Tools] for that and [Sense Stones] to find them before I chipped a shovel again.
I would never let it down.
[Grave Tender] was interesting, as was [Sanctify], while [Shovel Work] was a pass. Each worked on graves, and there was another skill to make a grave, which gave them synergy.
“Next time, I’ll make sure to fight them in a churchyard.”
“Or just pick them up with your shovel?”
“I- Wait, I can-”
“Of course you can, you dummy, you can pick them up. The difference between you and your tool is negligible.”
I tucked that little detail away. Just in case I couldn’t drag a fight to a consecrated place.
The last three were all interesting: two magical affinities to balance out my already present [Death Magic Affinity] and one that would be interesting to test out against the regenerating monster.
Nine good skills to pick in total. And if the pattern held, seven I could pick in total.
[Tool Expertise], [Magical Tools], [Burry], [Detect Sanctified Ground], [Grave Tender], [Sanctify], [Grave Magic Affinity], [Earth Magic Affinity], and [Mortal Wound].
“So bring it to a church or temple. Leave it, and then suck it up and send it over. Got it.”
“Yep, yep. So you were hurt, judging by an earlier conversation. So you lived through a fight?”
“Yeh, I did,” I told her, immediately deflecting, “It was a bit rough, I didn’t know dark magic could affect me like it did.”
She didn’t even blink at my deflection.
“Cute, of course, it can, mana affects you, just like everyone; changes to it affect you too. So, that means you came home hurt? That must have been something, how did your Anna take it, Hmm?”
She could read me like a book or maybe a poster on a wall. Saphine: Wanted alive for her inability to tactfully control a conversation. 10 Gold.
“Less than well. I made her cry again, I honestly can't stand it when I make her cry.”
“Any why’s that?” She asked a short, leading question.
“Because I made her cry! I scared her!”
“And?”
“And I don’t want her to be scared? Because she’s a good person? I shouldn’t have to have a reason not to make her cry, Sophy.”
“Saphine, have I ever made you think I have said something that lacked merit? Why you do something is just as important as what you do. So, why do you not want her to be scared of you.”
I didn’t want to answer that.
“Because she-”
She cut me off the second I got ‘she’ out of my lips.
“Don’t you dare lie to me, you’re already lying to yourself, which is bad enough. It’s just me and you here, and I’m not going to tell a soul. Why are you afraid of scaring her!” She said tersely, not quite shouting but certainly holding the threat of it in her voice.
“Because…” I started, looking to deflect it somewhere else. Looking to make an excuse.
But looking at her, I couldn’t.
Maybe it was something in her tone or the way she stood. It was like getting chided by my mom. It made me feel the right blend of familiar discomfort and shame.
“Because I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot, and I don’t know what she sees in me, and I don’t want her to go. I don’t know anything except I’m nothing special. I always have been. Until I met Anna, I was a few steps from being a [Slave]. She’s the best thing that’s happened to me, probably ever. She’s smart, and she’s capable, and she makes me feel like I belong, even though I’m just… me. And I don’t want to lose that because I’m an incompetent idiot who can't even stop her from crying over my dumb ass getting hurt, or scaring her.”
I had no tears to accompany it here. No sign of distress to mark my fear while I spewed it from my mouth like poison.
“There it is,” she said, her voice the definition of calming while she stood over me. “It’s because you're afraid, you're afraid of pushing her away. Afraid of a whole lot of things.”
“Oh yeah? What about it?” I asked, venom dripping from my voice while anger started to burble up in me, filling the space where the admissions of my fear had been.
“Whoa there, girl, calm your tits. It's fine to be angry when there’s purpose, but you're just afraid and ashamed of it, so don’t lash out at me. Breath.”
“Breath?” I asked, my tone not faltering as the anger at her numbed away the fear, using it for kindling, “Breath! I can’t breathe. There's no air here! You, you overgrown squiggle, you just had to pick at my fears like you have any right, like you care, like you…” my anger, flickered like a candle burnt to the base there one moment, and fading the next, “Like you give a shit? Like you understand anything about me.”
She took my tantrum without flinching. It was a short tantrum, a spurt of anger, that without her kindling ebbed itself out just as quickly as it had come and left me hollow with its passing.
It was the second time that day that I had turned to anger when another tried to help me. It made me feel like a rabid dog, biting at the hand that tried to help it, sick and confused. But I was not sick or confused, and I doubted this time I could blame it on hostile mana.
“Breath,” she spoke, no change in her tone, not disappointment, nor disapproval, just expectation.
I did, not with air, but just following the motion, which was just as well.
“Good,” she said, “Now, let's get to working on it. First off, I do, in my own way, care about you, but more importantly, you feel isolated; you feel like Anna is the only person you can depend on, and you need to change that. You don’t need to be popular and have a thousand people at your beck and call, but you need to connect with others. You have no safety net, you need one. They don’t have to be willing to die for you, just willing to be there once in a while. Do you think you can do that?”
“I… I don’t know how,” I told her lamely, basking in the feeling of guilt and self-disgust.
“None of that!” she chided, “You did it with noble Annabeth, you can do it with others. Spend time getting to know a merchant while your negotiate and talk with her acquaintances. All you need to do is let people in, and you’ll find them. Just make sure not to push them away again after. Even if you think they hate your guts, because your mind will play tricks on you when your isolated, you'll see hate and distaste and fear where you expect it, instead of where it is.”
I didn’t know if that was in the cards for me. I had a face that could scare children, let alone a random [Shopkeep]. It wasn’t exactly like I walked around as a proud member of the community. They had a right to dislike me, to be afraid of me. I looked scary, I would have scared myself.
"I don't know if thats in the cards for me-" I said, only for her to cut me off.
“Do it anyway," she said, "And you’ll find you get less lonely, even if it doesn’t work out, just keep doing it. Now, second,” she told me pointedly, “You need to work on communication.”
“I don’t have enough Charisma for that,” I told her, with only a hollowness there to pick up the lie’s slack as her prior guidance bounced around in my head like a leather ball. It was even lamer than a future pot of glue.
She carried on, not letting my blue mood drag her down.
“You don’t need Charisma for that, you dummy, you just need to talk to someone your close with. Honestly, have you told Anna any of what you feel?”
I had, but I was too afraid to tell her everything, too afraid that the moment I opened up, really opened up, it would chase away whatever Anna saw in me like it was a shadow puppet.
“I’ll take your silence as a no. So, let’s walk you through this. You think Anna’s kind, that Anna’s great, that Anna is the best thing to ever happen to you. And she will what? Suddenly, see that you’re a normal person? Who has feelings and insecurities? That you’ll chase her off like she’s a songbird because she’s so incapable of handling your baggage? You need to open up, you need to communicate, got it? Com-uni-cate. Or whatever you end up having, I can guarantee you it won’t be a happy ending, even if you stay together, the longer that distance exists, the stronger it will stay, and the harder it will be to get closer.”
Was that it? Was I just projecting my insecurities on her? I thought Anna was a great many things, but she was no weakling. I saw the hole, the blank spot that my insecurities had wrought from a gossamer thin twine of my own fear that I would not be accepted. Anna was amazing and kind and understanding, but if I told her about my insecurities, she would leave me to suffer on my lonesome.
One thing that could not be was magic, two things that could not be, if the other should exist, was a contradiction.
The loop, the blind spot, snapped shut.
It was no physical thing, for all it felt like it, like the snap and draw of a whip’s crack to my wisdom as it closed and cleared in my mind of the contradiction and recognized my own idiocy. All the things I had promised her, and I had failed at the most basic of stumbling blocks.
And the worst part of it was that, in a way, it was belittling her to assume that she wouldn’t accept me without checking with her. To make promises to make her feel better without checking with her, an omission of such a simple thing that would have meant so much more.
Having spotted one hole, I was suddenly aware of other actions with which I had done something stupid as the branched from it, revealed in stark after turning on the light.
And all it did was make me aware of new fears. Was she putting up with me and my selfish need to make myself the center of the world? Was she aware and disappointed? Was she unaware, and me doing it a moral failing that I could not be forgiven for?
“So, a minor course correction for you,” She started, almost prophetic in its speech, “You keep making decisions trying to reassure her instead of just asking her how to reassure her. Taking the lead is probably the right call, if she’s part mouse, she’ll like that, but you're making the communication about you; it’s I will, instead of What can I. A relationship is founded on communication and alchemy, you seem to have the alchemy, but it's not about you, it's about her, her and you, and you when it comes to communication. What would reassure you, what can we do, what can I do? It comes with polite speech, you know, She and I instead of me and her.”
“Ughh,” I moaned wordlessly while she continued on, unperturbed by my continued spiraling.
“I’m an idiot,” “You're an idiot,” we both said at the same time.
“Yeah, I am,” “Yeah, you are,” we said again.
She snorted, but I just basked in the misery for a while.
I spoke up from where I was, one hand on my face as I lay as flat as I could on my back, the ripples of the dark surface lapping up and rippling back out and away on the black surface.
“[Grave Magic Affinity], [Sanctify], [Tool Expertise], and [Magical Tools],” I told her.
“Look at you, being all introspective and also picking, glad to see you can still make a call, action suits you more than sitting down to think, just make sure that you apply what we talked about, are you ready? Oh… who am I kidding, here we go.”
And she gave me my brand-new skills.
It was just as gross as before, reaching in and shouting out my choices, the wiggling ropes of spirit twined round within me, bending and shaping themselves into the complex, three-dimensional shape of a skill. The tool skills into different shapes reminiscent of tools, with different borders and bits coming off them, grave magic and sanctify taking on the shape of a pit, the affinity with a plume going out, and [Sanctify] a plume going in, an open grave with signs of magic.
But when it was done, I had four brand-new skills and three more classes to go.
And after, I would need to apologize to Anna for being such a little shit, even if she saw no problem with it. It wasn’t who I wanted to be. I didn’t want to be the kind of person who reassured others with words, sweeping them up, and giving them what I thought they ought to want.
Anna was her own woman, she could decide that for herself.