Chapter Three: Silver Lining
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Immediately following the verdict, Blychert was ushered through the guildhall and brought down into a subterranean area he’d never seen before.
The attributor still hadn’t let go of his arm, as they dragged him through a maze of narrow, slate-colored corridors. Bly was petrified, though by the time the attributor shoved him into a small, square-shaped room, his nerves began to settle a little bit.
“Sit.” The attributor finally released him, gesturing towards a chair on the far side of a metallic table.
Everything was a shade of gray inside, from the walls to the floor, illuminated by a single, blistering white light emanating from a tile along the ceiling. It evoked a sense of unease, but Blychert did as he was told, rubbing his reddened arm as he moved across the room.
The attributor glared at him for a second longer, before saying, “Archival synchronization process has now been initialized. Eighteen hours until upload completion. The specimen will remain seated for the duration of this process. Upon the extraction of essential data, all organic material will be purged. Goodbye.”
The attributor turned and walked straight out the door again. A strange sound emanated from the locking mechanism as they departed, and a shimmering field covered the entire threshold, which Bly recognized immediately as an advanced magic ward of some kind.
He sat in silence for what felt like an eternity thereafter.
And then, almost out of nowhere, the fear of death bloomed so intensely within him that it sent a wave of emotions cascading over his body, and he could feel the hot tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He wanted to cry, or maybe scream, but nothing except for haggard, panicked breaths came out. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to break down completely just yet, as if it was still too surreal to believe. But as the terror subsided somewhat, it was slowly replaced by anger.
Bly slammed his fists down on the table, letting the frustration seep out all at once. His head hung low as a few small droplets fell from his face and splashed against the metal surface, and he stared at the forming bruise on his arm.
What did it even matter that he didn’t have a class? He still had magic, didn’t he? He hadn’t committed any crimes? Any sins?
This wasn’t who he was.
He was no different than any of the others. He worked just as hard, and he cared more about his magic than anything. Bartolo wasn’t easy on him, and yet he’d stuck it out as his apprentice for longer than any of his other protégées.
Blychert suddenly wondered if his master even knew what had happened yet. He was out-holding the last few days for an emergency, so probably not. Still, would he even come to save Bly when he found out what had happened? Would it be too late by then?
Maybe Blychert would never know the answer.
He was stuck in here, trapped in this room. And if he didn’t do something about it soon, he wasn’t just going to be as good as dead.
But what could he possibly do against the Guild?
Escape. His mind immediately pondered.
Raising his arm, Blychert extended his right hand and tucked his ring and pinky fingers towards the center of his palm, leaving his remaining digits in a claw-like gesture. In the same action, he slowly twisted his hand in a circular motion, as if turning a doorknob, and released it.
Immediately, a dull blue glow rose in front of his face amidst the dim interior of the room, revealing a long series of illegible hieroglyphs and numbers across a translucent panel, scrolling downward in a matter of seconds.
Bly laughed out loud for a moment as he wiped his eyes free of tears, wondering how on earth his sage terminal was even active if what he’d been told was true. If he really was classless, how did he have access to this thing at all?
Who the hell knows. He shook his head, knowing he had to focus up now.
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[ SAGE ]
[Name: Blychert]
[Age: 15]
[Class: Undefined]
[Experience Points: 4,084]
[Health: 100, Stamina: 480, Mana: 610]
[Attributes] [Class Abilities] [Skills] [Magic] [Quest Log] [Party]
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Several lines of text revealed itself, before the rest of the screen phased in slowly, upon which a row of navigable tabs at the top became apparent. The entirety of his life’s work thus far was chronicled here—all the pre-class experience he’d ever gained, all the attribute points he’d ever earned, and all the basic spells and skills he’d come to learn and cultivate thus far… everything about him was here. Classless or not, he still had access to this vital resource, and so the solution to his dire situation had to be somewhere within.
But where to start? How to start?
It seemed obvious after a few moments; that damned door…
“I really wouldn’t strain yourself too hard.” Said a curious, and somewhat playful voice all of a sudden.
Blychert’s eyes snapped away from the terminal in fear. With a simple mental gesture, the display disappeared, and his gaze settled across the table, where a woman sat cross-legged in the opposite chair.
She had long, wavy red hair, and wore a style of white dress Bly had certainly never seen before. Several pieces of silver jewelry glistened around her body in the form of armlets, rings, or earrings, and she wore a tan-colored, pointed cap with a wide brim on her head. However, the strangest thing about her was surely the fact that the door was still shimmering behind her, meaning the ward was still active, and Bly hadn’t seen or heard anyone come in. It was as if she simply appeared there, or was here the whole time…
“Excuse me?” Bly replied with a stern tone, even though his voice cracked slightly. She looked nothing like an administrator, which calmed him a bit, but she still put him on edge with the way she was smiling ever so slightly.
Unfolding her legs, and crossing them the other way, she responded, “I said, I wouldn’t work yourself up too much. A novice like you really doesn’t stand much of a chance in a deathtrap like this.”
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Bly blinked several times, his heart racing, as he thought to just try and play dumb, “I’m… not sure what you mean, Miss.”
“Oh-oh, aren’t you just a little cutie?” She chuckled to herself, before glancing at him with a momentarily cutting expression, as she murmured, “You look just like him too, don’t you?”
What the hell does that mean? Bly wondered confusedly.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” He shook his head awkwardly, trying to remember if he’d ever met someone like her. She looked like city folk, but Bartolo didn’t entertain much company, and Bly didn’t frequent the town’s social spots often except to meet up with Irvin and Annie.
“Me? Not likely. But I know you.” She replied, leaning forward somewhat to settle her chin on her open palm, “I’m what you might refer to as… the silver lining in this little mess. So, my apologies; both for prior exchanges, and for those yet to come.”
Blychert was completely lost.
“Can you… I mean, are you with the Guild?” He asked nervously, still uncertain about this woman’s intentions, despite her pleasant demeanor.
“If I were, you’d know it already.” She stated matter-of-factly, shaking her head slightly, “Let’s just call this a personal favor. Shall we?”
A feeling came over Bly suddenly that this lady was much more dangerous than she appeared to be, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting her by casting a simple detection spell to check if she had some kid of aura. His spellcasting was still only at the basic level, and he doubted someone like her wouldn’t be able to pierce straight through his magic barrier, especially if she was a spellcaster herself.
“Are you ready to die, Blychert?”
Bly’s eyes widened.
Why would she ask him that?
He looked at her and gulped, but she simply offered the same, curious smile as before, almost as if this was some kind of a test.
“No.” Bly muttered belatedly, his breath quavering as he shook his head in unison with his response. As nervous as he was, it was still the truth.
Squinting, the woman took a long, hard look at him, as if she could peer directly into his soul. He swore he saw the green in her eyes flash momentarily, and he had no doubt after that, that she was operating on a whole different level than he was. Because that look… it was damned near petrifying.
Bly sat unmoving, more certain now that he should try to at least prepare a spell as subtlety as he could and just take the risk head-on. But he couldn’t get a good read on her, so he wasn’t sure what she was capable of. Clearly, she knew how to get in here without being seen. Bly’s magic wasn’t exceptional by any means, but if he could just catch her off guard, he really only needed one opportunity to strike…
However, the woman frowned unexpectedly, almost as if she understood his current headspace, and said, “Poor thing. That leaves you with scarce few options here, doesn’t it? So, I’ll ask you this instead, are you ready to wake up and smell the ashes?”
It was like a bolt of lightning had shot straight up through his body.
“One day…”
His mind raced with a million thoughts and images, caught between a sense of familiarity and complete uncertainty. He’d heard that phrase before, like someone had said it to him, but when? Where? Not for a long time, whenever it had been. In fact, it was as if the very act of hearing her say it compelled his mind to remember that it had even heard it in the first place. And why had it provoked his recurring dream too?
“What?” Bly asked dumbly.
“Pity. I had hoped…” The woman frowned somewhat, before standing up from the table. She glanced back down at Bly, saying, “This certainly complicates things. Oh well—”
“What—well, wait!” Bly shouted frantically, as she reached for the door handle.
“Oh?” She looked over her shoulder, “Thought of something else?”
Bly furrowed his brow and scratched his head, puzzled, “Please, I think someone said that to me once—that same exact thing you just said. I can’t remember who they were, but I think they were… important? Look, it was a long time ago, but I remember. I remember. And the answer is yes, or—I think it is? I don’t know, it’s all so confusing. What does it mean?”
“What a curious boy you have here…” She smiled genuinely, then said in a plainer tone, “Look, get out of this place in one piece. Manage that, and you and I can talk about the meaning of life. Deal?”
“How?” Bly shook his head, a momentary sensation of fear, hope, and excitement pumping through in his mind. Just the thought of getting out of this place was enough to kick his emotions into high alert. However, he added more cautiously, “My magic isn’t powerful enough, and nobody goes against the Guild.”
She cocked a bemused expression at him, “Nobody? So, what were you thinking of doing before I came in? And probably what you’re still thinking about right this very second?”
“But—” Bly’s jaw fell slack. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. Or maybe he could. Everything today had happened so suddenly. Right now, he could barely keep his head above water at all.
“You’re a spellcaster? Aren’t you? Or you want to be.” She shrugged, “Honestly, you have a much better chance of getting out of here than I do. Your master’s no slouch, I’m sure of that much, he must have taught you something worthwhile. Oh, alright… skimming the pages a little bit here. Allow me to teach you the first thing about being classless.”
Classless? Wait, was she…
But before Bly could even protest, or ask her how she knew of his master, she simply poked the door once with her index finger. It shimmered like a pebble being tossed into a still pond, before going quiet. Her neck craned slightly, and she glanced back at him out of the corner of her eye with an almost solemn expression.
“What’s happened to you, has happened. The rules of this world cannot be broken.” She murmured, a far more cryptic tone of voice than before. However, she smiled slightly, as if an amusing thought came to her, and she added, “They can bend though, and a lot further than even the Administration is capable of reconciling with, if you’ll believe it. That is to say, so long as you understand how to work with what you’ve got. Bent rules are worth a lot more to you and me than any class we could ever possibly hope to have. Got it?”
“But… how do I do that?” Bly asked, still puzzled, “Bend the rules, I mean?”
She frowned, “That’s a bit harder to explain, I’m afraid. Unlocking your true potential is complicated, and your case seems to be… very different than to what I’m used to dealing with. At any rate, these things take time, and we don’t have that luxury right now.”
Unlocking my potential… Bly pondered, wondering if that didn’t have something to do with what the Administrator had said earlier about him “leeching” his powers off the bounty of the Divine.
“Improvising is your bread and butter now, understood? So, if you’re really as starving as you look, we’d best get to work.” She tipped the brim of her hat with a smile, “No free meals in this profession, kiddo.”
What the hell was she even talking about now? And how could not having a class be better than having one? Look what not having one gotten him? Could he even trust her? The classless were to be feared… why did she seem to want to help him?
“Silver lining.”
Those had been her words, and Bly was starting to wonder if there wasn’t any truth behind them.
“By the way, the disruption spell I used on this door won’t stay down for long, and the illusory ward I placed on the area should be about spent, assuming I did the math correctly…” She pondered aloud, finally admitting her own magical abilities, before looking back at Bly, “If it’s a prison break you’re after, we really ought to use the window while it’s open. No?”
“Is it safe?” Bly asked, probably a bit naively, as he rose to his feet with haste.
“Safe? Not on your life.” She chuckled, but said with a more reassuring look, “All of this happened rather suddenly, which means things are going to be much more dangerous moving forward. This room was meant to kill you, you know—to pick your soul clean of all the delicious bits stored within; a little snack for the Archive, if you will. I’ll have to destroy it. The room, I mean. The guildhall too. All of it. That’s the only sure way to wipe the record clean and prevent any latent synchronization.”
Bly gulped nervously at what that could’ve meant for him.
“Also, you… may have to suffer a teeny bit before you can earn your freedom.” She added hesitantly, “I’ll do my best to redirect the Guild’s attention, but I can’t promise you won’t run into any trouble on the way out the door. I can hide myself just fine, but this place has already started to latch itself on to you, which means there's no point in trying to conceal you with magic either. If you think you can’t handle this, please tell me now, and we’ll try to find another solution before this room accomplishes what it was supposed to.”
Moving across the room, Bly stopped in front of her, nodding in understanding, though a bit trepidatious, “I think I can handle it. And I don’t really see that I have any other choice, anyway.”
“That’s the spirt.” She smirked, but shook her head soberingly, “Get out of here quickly, and make for your master’s tower as soon as you’re able. Understood?”
Bly nodded, but felt the need to ask as well, “Who are you anyway?”
“Me? Goodness, where are my manners, I suppose you might call me… Miss Crane. Or, Alyse, if that suits you better.” She replied, before slowly raising her hand to brush the edge of Bly’s check with her thumb. There was a look in her eyes that suggested she wanted to say more, but she simply retracted her hand in the same motion, saying softly, “You know, if you’re lucky, we’ll never meet again.”
Bly didn’t have more than a second to reply, before she winked and backstepped through the door as if it wasn’t even there. Hesitating, he shook his head clear and followed her. But the moment he made it across into the corridor, Miss Crane was nowhere to be found.