Chapter Seven: At Our Parting

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The trio left the tower at some unknown hour in the night.

Miss Crane and Bartolo went back and forth for ages, all about what they thought the best course of action would be. There were arguments about direction, about mode of transportation, about nations and cities Bly had only ever seen on maps or heard about in passing conversations, and a plethora of words he didn’t normally hear on a daily basis, such as “elves” and “dragonkin” and a whole host of other things. The only thing that seemed a guarantee was that they couldn’t stay in Greygarde, not with the Guild surely gearing up to hunt then down, which seemed to mean that they’d be teleporting out-kingdom in no time.

Bly felt a bit better as they hiked through the forest, though he was tired and still somewhat sore.

Bartolo had set a mobile concealment spell around their proximity as they moved, and Miss Crane had seen to the casting of a seeing spell on each of them, which allowed Bly to see nearly perfectly in the dark. He quietly told himself that he’d have to ask her to teach him that one, if she ever got the chance. Anyway, his ribs and fingers didn’t hurt nearly as much as they did before his nap, but his head was still throbbing with pain.

As they traveled, Bly’s mind randomly wandered to Irvin and the supposed “quest” he said he would be going on today. It felt a lot like Bly was going on his own quest all of a sudden, not that he expected to return anytime soon. He briefly wondered if the others were allowed to get their classes, or if he had screwed that up for them too. For a moment, he wished he could take it all back, or at least have the chance to say goodbye to everyone.

In any case, Bartolo’s teleportation circle at home was the only permanent one of its kind in their holding. Bly understood that if they used it, any half-decent diviner would easily be able to track down the mana signature. For that reason, they needed to put some distance between them and the tower, that way his master could draw up a new circle and, more importantly, make it untraceable.

They must have walked for several hours at least, because the first light of morning began to give blue depth to the shadows of the forest. The smells of the autumntime just after a rainfall dominated the air, and the morning birdsongs echoed into the cold depths of the forest. Bly was only relieved when Bartolo finally motioned for them to stop. However, he realized then that not only was this the first time anyone had said anything since they left the tower, but they were also standing amid some heavily ruined, bygone structure.

Blychert stared in awe, wondering if this wasn’t one of the ruins that his master had been researching lately. It certainly looked the part, and Bly could even feel a small aura of magical energy about the entire place.

Ley lines. Blychert thought instinctually, knowing now that his master must have brought them here intentionally. It wasn’t as intense a ley line as the one that ran through Darskaart itself, but it certainly felt powerful in its own way.

“We’ll stop here.” Bartolo huffed, removing his packs as he began to clear the colorful leaves on the ground, revealing the withered stone of the weatherworn ruin, “I’ll get to work on the teleportation circle. Alyse, I’m sure even you can manage an anti-magic field? Bly, you see to recovering more of your strength.”

Bly nodded wordlessly, wanting to be more helpful than that but realizing he didn’t have much energy to begin with. He then slumped his pack next to a ruined wall before leaning down to sit against it himself. He felt too weary to do much of anything else, and so he set himself to the simple task of watching Bartolo work.

Slowly but surely, his master’s chalk work began to take the shape of a highly complex series of magic symbols, shapes, and seals, all sprawled across the ancient stones. The sun crested into the canopy and down across the forest soon enough, and everything felt strangely calm. The light was warm on Bly’s face where he’d chosen to sit, and it was a momentary relief—enough so that he closed his eyes for a bit.

Restless, however, Bly found the energy to open his eyes and have a go at his sage terminal. It was awkward navigating the system with his bandaged hands, but he soon shifted over to the Skills and Class Abilities tabs. All of his skills were still there, but he felt his heart lift at the sight of the one and only ability listed.

[XP Transmogrifier]

Studying magecraft under Master Bartolo, Bly had learned a fair few magic skills over the years. He had always expected that his first ability would reflect that fact, or at least have something to do with his class. But this? It was completely insane.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” Miss Crane nudged Bly’s arm, as she plopped down next to him. She leaned over slightly and took a glance at his terminal, “Your first ability is never the one you imagine it to be. Just ask any classless about their own awakening.”

Blychert creased his brow, a bit skeptical, “What was yours?”

Alyse snickered, “It was a swordsman ability, if you’ll believe it. I never did find much use for that thing, beyond a couple of gimmicks.”

“How does a classless gain new abilities anyway?” Bly asked, “I mean, I have all my skills and basic magic, but without a class it seems impossible. Without gaining levels, how do you get stronger?”

Miss Crane abruptly handed him an apple, before saying with a smile, “Breakfast certainly helps.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Bly insisted. But his stomach grumbled anyway, so he gladly accepted the offer.

“When you start out, everything can seem to be a bit confusing.” She explained, “But you’ve just made a very good observation about the classless: contrary to what anyone tells you, we learn skills and experience attribute changes just like everyone else, that’s simply a matter of living, breathing, and training. Repetition is the key to success.”

Bly nodded, taking a bite out of the apple as he pondered over her words.

“Abilities, on the other hand, get a bit more confusing.” She continued, “Auras, sword arts, spellcraft… we have access to these things, it’s just that we don’t earn hard experience as a part of the process. We don't have classes. Thus, sage doesn’t formally recognize our progression pathways, which makes advancement in said areas much more of a hassle. We learn very quickly how to manage it for ourselves. Or rather, those who don’t can’t be expected to survive for very long. At least, no anywhere the Guild has jurisdiction.”

Bly shuttered at the thought.

“That said, we classless have effectively mastered the art of system subterfuge—how to bend sage to our needs so that we can access said abilities. Yes, it will take time and effort to learn all the different techniques you need to know. But the good news is, I don’t suspect it will be much different for you than it is for any other classless, apart from this particular abnormality you seem to have. You may have to work harder at it, but you can still be a sorcerer. At least, a certain kind of sorcerer. If that’s what you still want.”

“Really?” Bly’s eyes sparkled with hope.

Miss Crane laughed, “It won’t be easy. But even a classless spellcaster can learn advanced magic, just like any other. Your training in magic will have to go together with your training in system navigation though—real system navigation, not the surface-level crap you’ve come to learn thus far. I’m talking about the dangerous kind; the kind of tinkering that can get you killed, or worse. But, if this is what you really want, then I’d say it’s more than just a possibility. It must become your reality.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted off Bly’s shoulders hearing her say that. Was it really possible that he could still be a sorcerer? Even without a class? Forget the danger, his dream was far from over.

“Think of this like… learning a language. The more you understand how it works, the easier it will be to express what you want to say in simpler, or even more complex terms. Eventually, you won’t even notice the difference in the way you speak. If done well, you’ll seamlessly blend in with the rest of the world around you, and hopefully no one will notice the difference either, as long as you take the right precautions. An alias, if you will. Of course, having a good mentor helps with all this.”

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Blychert took a bite out of the apple and glanced at Bartolo momentarily. He wondered if his master would even be able to teach him anything about being classless, let alone about how he was supposed to use it to his advantage. Bartolo had taught Bly so much about magic already, and he hoped his master would still be able to. But he couldn’t help but think that they’d run into some problems sooner or later.

“So, what do you do… exactly?” Bly asked Miss Crane, changing the subject for now, “Like, as your profession? Everyone who has a class pretty much already knows what they’ll be doing.”

“And what did you think you’d be doing?” She asked with a smile.

Bly shrugged, “Adventuring, I think? Or maybe research… like Master?”

“A lofty goal.” Alyse chuckled, “Adventurers certainly make a habit out of the grandiose, I’m sure that would suit you just fine. Researchers less so, but not a bad profession.”

“What about you?” Blychert asked.

“I collect favors, mostly.” She replied nonchalantly, “Why? Interested in that sort of work?”

He shook his head, “But you knew my father? And he… collected ‘favors’ too?”

“In a manner of speaking. If you’re in the business of collecting, you’re almost certainly in the business of owing.” She sighed, but paused thereafter. She stared into the tree line for a long moment, before saying, “He asked me once on a whim, you know—many years ago, when you weren’t much bigger than a melon—if I would consider being your mentor one day. At the time, I thought it was because of your fledgling magical abilities.”

“He did?” Bly urged more of her response.

“Naturally, I turned him down.” She replied, “I wasn’t interested in being a teacher back then. I still had a lot to learn myself, you know. But he cared about your future enough to ask. Although, I still think our dear Bartolo here was a much more suitable choice.”

Master Bartolo grumbled something unintelligible, and Bly couldn’t help but grin.

“Anyway,” Miss Crane continued, a more wistful tone in her voice, “I don’t know why he never came back for you, Bly, much less before your selection day, but… he did ask me to do it for him. Should the need arise.”

“He did?” Bly perked up excitingly.

“He did?!” Bartolo mimicked, though much louder and perhaps much more disorderly.

Considering Bly barely remembered his father, it was hard to imagine anything about him, other than maybe that one memory.

“Eh-heh… maybe I made that last part up.” Alyse laughed awkwardly, scratching the bridge of her nose somewhat. Bly heard his master groan again, as she added soberingly, “I knew your time was coming up, so I suppose my curiosity got the better of me. I didn’t expect to find you here without him, truth be told. Anyway, you really made quite the mess back there, you know.”

Bly raised an eyebrow, “You did too.”

“Did I?” She pondered, though he saw her smile out of the corner of his eye. She merely shrugged, “Just as well then.”

It was then that something suddenly occurred to Blychert.

“So… that ‘personal favor’ you mentioned yesterday was for him? Wasn’t it?” Bly asked.

Miss Crane glanced across at him curiously, “I’d like to believe so, no way of knowing for sure.”

“But why did it have to be so… violent?” He asked, more than a little curious, “I know you said you had to destroy everything, but… why go through all of that in the first place?”

“Not my finest work.” She confessed, “I could have tried to spare you the humiliation, as well as the fear of being put to the sword by a dream you once idolized. This was your entire life, wasn’t it? Getting your class? And it was ripped out right from under you.”

“I mean, yeah, it was.” Bly nodded, “But that doesn’t really answer my question?”

“As I said before, I simply didn’t believe you were classless.” She shook her head, “I had my doubts, don’t get me wrong, but all the evidence pointed to the contrary. Maybe I just wanted to believe that Garin couldn’t be this foolish to leave you to your own devices, at least not without telling Bartolo anything. But even if we had known for certain, could I have truly saved you from that pain? Even if I went all out? Is that something anyone can alleviate? I don’t know, I did what I could in the moment that presented itself. I destroyed it all so that you might live to see another day. I’m just sorry that it wasn’t enough to keep you from harm’s way.”

It's not really your fault. Bly thought, but chose to keep it to myself.

“At the end of the day, you saved yourself really.” She continued, “I’d say that was at least worth something…”

Bly perked up curiously, “Like what?”

“Now, you know that you can put up a fight when your back is against the wall.” She insisted, “It may be harsh, but you’ll never make it anywhere in this world without a spine. Otherwise, you’d have simply been better off letting them kill you. Perhaps you’ve turned out a lot different than everyone expected. But this experience isn’t entirely without value. You’re a survivor. In some respects, that’s still a worthwhile result.”

Blychert thought about that for a long while.

So much had happened to him in the last twenty-four hours, he didn’t even know what to think anymore. He sort of understood what she was saying, even if it was completely bizarre. But did he believe it? Did he have a choice anymore?

He was classless.

Somewhere out there, maybe his father knew this day would come. In fact, maybe he had counted on it. Bly just couldn’t figure out why? Did he want Bly to die? Did he expect him to save himself? All Bly knew now was that they were leaving home, and damned if that didn’t suddenly feel worse than any of the pain he endured last night.

“It’s hard running away, you know.” Miss Crane said ominously, “When all you have to do is pick yourself up and start walking, you might think otherwise. But it’s very difficult to pull off. When you leave something behind, and when you can’t possibly know if you’ll ever return, that’s a kind of strength nobody can teach you. You have to earn it for yourself. And the only way to do that is by taking the first step.”

If he didn’t believe it before, Bly was certain this woman could peer straight into his soul and see exactly what he was feeling.

Blychert glanced up at her, a bit pessimistic, “Let me guess, it’s better this way?”

“Better is a strong word…” She smiled amusedly, but said, “It won’t be much fun, and it certainly won’t be any simpler than staying put. But oh, I don’t know, I did say we could discuss the meaning of life. Didn’t I? You need a teacher, a different kind of teacher, and it seems like I owe you one anyway.”

“Really?” Bly asked.

“Your master’s going to need all the help he can get.” She seemed to say in a teasing tone of voice, “Unless you’d prefer otherwise, Bartolo?”

“Normally, I might tell a flagrant incendiary such as yourself to find your own way out of Greygarde.” He groaned, lifting himself up as it appeared to Bly that he had finished his work. Blychert wasn’t sure, but he detected a bit of sarcasm in his master’s voice, “However, it only seems fitting that you should teach Garin’s son something of use. Besides, if we’re dealing in who owes whom what, then I suppose I have a debt to settle with you as well… Now, everyone up and into the circle. We have our heading!”

“And the winds did stir…” Miss Crane waived her hand, and a flourish of sparkling energy cascaded through her fingers momentarily, before she rose to her feet. However, she frowned, “This better not be to anywhere cold, Bartolo. I don’t do well in the cold.”

“But what about my father?” Blychert asked her eagerly, “Isn’t he out there somewhere? Shouldn’t we find him? Shouldn’t he—I don’t know, be told what happened?”

“I don’t know what sort of trouble your father’s gotten himself into.” She sighed, looking back down at him, “He was never one for this kind of carelessness. But I do know one thing: He’s discrete. Wherever he is, or whatever he’s doing, I’m guessing he’s a lot safer than you’ll ever be. If not, well… not to put too fine a point on it, but you have a lot to learn before you can even think about trying to track him down.”

Blychert shook my head in disbelief, “You’d really be willing to teach me?”

“I’m coming along either way, aren’t I?” Miss Crane shrugged. She then turned fully and offered a curious grin, extending a hand down for Bly to take. She hoisted him up onto his feet, and said, “Unless you’d rather stay here, of course?”

Not likely. Bly shivered at the thought. Despite how much he wanted to stay, he knew exactly how dangerous that was.

“It’s your life now, kiddo. Remember that.” She said, hardly glancing back as she stepped into the teleportation circle. She was taller than Bartolo, though much younger by looks alone, and both stood side by side looking at Bly expectingly. She added, “You go live it however you desire. Just… remember that you’re classless now, and that means something. It means the days catch up with you a lot sooner than you think.”

How I desire, huh? Bly glanced over his shoulder, looking back the way they’d just came, and silently telling himself that he’d return home one day. He’d show his home, his friends… he’d show everyone exactly the kind of person he wanted to be—no, the kind of person he was.

Sorcerers were supposed to help people, after all. They were supposed to travel the world and ply their craft in service to something more—the greater good. He wasn’t sure he could manage all that, not anymore, but he was going to try anyway. He had to start somewhere, with something. This might as well be it.

“And that’s a promise…” He murmured to himself.

With a heavy exhale, Bly turned and stepped into the teleportation circle.

“Everyone ready?” Bartolo asked, and Bly nodded without a word. He then said, “Splendid, off we go. To Calvergia!”

“What—” Miss Crane stammered ruefully, “Damn it, you old coon, I said nowhere cold…!”

But it was too late.

The entire circle rose to a spectacular purple glow. Blychert felt uneasy for a moment, uneasy about whatever awaited them on the other side, but his master’s hand on his shoulder gave him the courage to stand tall and to stand proud.

Bly didn’t know what his own journey would look like from here on out, and there was no way to know for certain what his classless life held in store for him anymore. But he knew this much, more than anything else, he was prepared to fight for that ember of a future with everything he had.

He was going to be a sorcerer.

He was going to live.

To be continued...