Atakarr’s POV
Elder Raad had about the expected reaction when Atakarr and Myles told her of their intent to venture to the Bridge, which was to say that while the woman wasn’t exactly in opposition of it, she wasn’t fully on board either.
This wasn’t the first time the Elder was hearing about the plan, of course, and she’d agreed when she’d been told that, in time, yes, it would be a good idea for another foray to the Bridge, or maybe even the land above.
It was just that Elder Raad’s idea of the term ‘in time’ differed quite a bit from Atakarr’s.
“And you’re sure that your skill levels can handle whatever you may come across?” Elder Raad queried, trying, and not fully succeeding, to keep the worry out of her voice.
“Cott and Dadaan did fine against the monster from above they came across,” Atakarr said, “and Myles and I have significantly higher levels than anyone else. I doubt it’s likely that we’ll run into anything that will give us too much trouble.”
“And if you do?” Elder Raad asked rather imperiously.
“Then it would be no different from how it has always been,” Atakarr responded.
The older woman frowned, then, after a moment, sighed in resignation. “I understand. I just... the System has done a lot for us, Atakarr.” Her eyes flicked to Myles, who was standing quietly by the side. “And I’m sure it will do a lot more. But I don’t want it to make you forget the very real dangers out there. Either of you.”
Oh Atakarr hadn’t forgotten, but she said nothing. Forgetting the dangers out there wasn’t the problem, she knew. The problem was that, like most others, Elder Raad was having trouble changing her mindset to match the reality the System had wrought.
If Atakarr didn’t do this, Elder Raad would probably never think that people had levelled to the point where it might be possible, and Atakarr suspected that it was because Elder Raad had lived her whole life accepting that it was impossible for them to ever conquer this hellhole they called home.
All the same though, just because she was right did not mean Elder Raad was necessarily wrong. It was still very dangerous out there, skills or no, so she very much intended to keep her head on a swivel, as Myles liked to say.
“Don’t worry, Elder Raad,” Myles said. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
The older woman smiled at him. Myles and Elder Raad had gotten closer in recent times, sometimes sitting together and sharing nuggets of wisdom. Or, more accurately, Elder Raad shared nuggets of wisdom while Myles (as he’d confessed to Atakarr) just parroted the things he remembered the great thinkers of his race (filofofers, she believed he called them) said.
“Very well then,” Elder Raad said, then gathered herself, somehow standing taller than she had been, shoulders squared and chin raised, and though Atakarr suspected none of it was necessary, she could not deny it added a certain... gravitas to what she knew the woman was about to do. “Atakarr and Myles, you are to go to the Bridge; look around, see what it’s like, and if you come across anything you feel the tribe might need, bring it back if you can.”
Ding!
You have received a Quest from being [Raad].
Quest_
* Go to the Bridge; see what it’s like; bring back anything you come across that the tribe might need if you can.
Completion Reward_
* Five skill level-ups (distributable however you choose).
Time Limit_
* None
Do you accept this Quest?
«Yes» || «No»
Atakarr and Myles stared at each other, the same thought running through their minds. The [Quest-giver] skill automatically assigned completion rewards (which were always skill level-ups) based on the giver’s opinion of its perceived difficulty, and the highest anyone had ever received before now was two.
Elder Raad must be really worried about this endeavour of theirs.
After they’d both accepted the Quest, Elder Raad wished them luck and they got another, but not unexpected, alert.
Ding!
Congratulations! You have received the blessings of being [Raad], your luck has increased by 15% for the next hour.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Atakarr felt the soothing warmth of Elder Raad’s skill, [Blessings of the Crown], wash over her. This was the second of the two skills that were unique to the older woman, the first being [Quest-giver], because they both required the user to be recognized either as an undisputed political or religious leader of a society. And Elder Raad was the only one who met either of those requirements.
“So, I take it we’re going to Manna next,” Myles said as they left Elder Raad.
Atakarr nodded. “Skill levels or not, we’re going to need the best weapons available before we do this.”
“True,” Myles agreed, and they headed off.
Manna was one of, if not the oldest of the tribe. She was one of the few old people to have survived the last pandemic, but unlike Elder Raad and a couple others who got off practically unscathed, Manna had wound up with her entire left side semi-paralyzed and her mind not all there.
At least, until Myles had gifted out the System.
Now though, while Manna was still one of the physically weakest people in the tribe, and her mental state didn’t seem to have improved much, if at all, she more than made up for her disabilities with her near-obsessive focus on the [Stoneshaper] skill.
Interestingly enough, of all the skills, the one that had made the most impact on the tribe was [Stoneshaper]. Although, in hindsight that really shouldn’t have been too surprising, considering that stone was quite literally the only raw material they had to work with, and the skill made manipulating anything that could be considered stone easier.
At higher levels, it improved to the point that stone could literally be moulded like clay.
Atakarr herself even kept the skill slotted in, just in case. And while at level 14 her skill could be said to be at a decent level, it was nowhere near Manna’s impressive level 27, which was made even more impressive because of how much harder she had learnt skill levelling became at the quarter and halfway marks. And it certainly didn’t hurt either that, for a brain-damaged woman who had only ever seen the near monochromatic environs the Seena called home, Manna had a remarkable amount of artistic talent.
Finding the woman wasn’t hard; she hardly ever left the brightly-lit corner she’d set up shop in some twenty days ago, and even now she sat there, surrounded by rocks of many shapes and sizes, all of them worked on in at least some small way.
Manna was alone, as she usually was, a hefty rock in her hands and long, bony fingers moulding and stretching it adroitly, though there was a noticeable clumsiness in the movements of the left’s that the right’s clearly lacked. Manna looked up upon hearing their approach, her aged eyes focusing on Myles, and she gave him a big, happy smile.
Of everyone, it was a safe bet to say that Manna was, without doubt, Myles’ biggest fan, which, considering Myles was the reason the old woman could finally take a breath without feeling pain, really was no surprise. What surprised Atakarr was how much Myles seemed to like the woman in turn, actually going out of his way to spend time with her several times. When she had finally cracked and asked him why, he’d told her that she reminded him of his grandmother who had died in his preteens.
“Manna,” Myles said, walking ahead of Atakarr to go crouch by the woman.
“Myles.” Manna placed a hand on Myles’ cheek, her rather unfocused gaze on his face pairing with her bright smile to give her a somewhat odd countenance.
Myles said and did nothing for the several seconds Manna stared at him, apparently used to this sort of reception from her.
Eventually, Manna put down her hand and said in an almost girlish tone of voice, “I made you something.”
“Really? What?”
Manna summoned a small sculpture from her inventory; some sort of animal, Atakarr guessed, and Myles gasped in pleasant surprise as he took it.
“It’s exactly like I remember it. Manna, this is amazing,” Myles said to the woman, who seemed quite pleased with herself, and Atakarr had to admit that the sculpture did look good.
It was of some kind of strange, upright lizard with a big head, thick tail, powerful hind legs, and, for some reason, comically small arms that seemed practically useless. Manna had made the statuette with a light-rock, and the luminance of the material drew the eye to the pain-staking attention to detail Manna had obviously put into object.
Manna pointed a finger at the sculpture as Myles oohed and aahed over it. “T-rex,” she said.
Myles smiled, but it was different now, more wistful. “Yeah,” he said. “A T-rex. From Jurassic Park.”
Manna started singing a wordless tune and Myles cracked up.
Atakarr cleared her throat in mild annoyance, and the two looked at her, Myles turning sheepish but Manna simply looking like she only now noticed Atakarr’s presence.
“Sorry to interrupt, but Manna, were you able to make any improvements on the spears I gave you?”
Manna gave Atakarr a blank look that lasted several seconds, then she blinked. “Yes, spears, of course.” Manna began to look around for the spears that Atakarr was pretty sure were not anywhere on the floor. “Now where did I keep them?”
“Manna,” Myles said before Atakarr could, “have you checked your inventory?”
The old woman turned to Myles, her wrinkled face slack and her eyes staring beyond him. Then she blinked repeatedly. “Inventory. Yes. Of course. That amazing gift that we have you to thank for, Myles.” As she spoke spears appeared in her hands, one after the other, and she handed each new one to Myles before taking another from her inventory. In the end, Manna pulled out three spears, each one remarkably straight and smooth, with a tip that was sharper than anything Atakarr had ever seen before.
Atakarr took one and hefted it. It was heavier than she’d expected, and felt strangely dense, and Atakarr lost herself in admiration of Manna’s work that it took her a moment to recount in her head and notice an inconsistency.
“Manna, where are the rest? I gave you six but there are only three here. Didn’t you have time to work on them?”
Manna cackled like she’d just heard the funniest thing ever. “That’s all of them,” she said, pointing at the three spears she’d given them.
Atakarr had no idea what Manna was talking about, and a glance at Myles informed her he didn’t either.
Manna rolled her eyes like they were both missing something so unimaginably obvious. “I took two spears,” she said, holding up her two forefingers, “then I pressed them together,” she pressed her forefingers together, “and turned it into one spear.” Manna smiled, very pleased with her brilliance.
Well, that explained the weight, Atakarr thought, as Myles launched into another round of oohing and aahing. “Is it safe though? Does it make the spear stronger?”
Manna shrugged, and Myles, who seemed to have forgotten that his very life might soon depend on this weapon, tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh.
Great.
Soon they were leaving, and not long after that they were outside, under the never-moving shadow of the island above, and for the first time in Atakarr’s life, she headed for the Bridge.