The real Riverglitter. Betty bursts out. Talking GuNakt. Do it for the cookies! Holding hands. Unlocked!
The gleaming river made Sal think of the Riverglitter Manor, which had been misnamed because this river had all the glitter on the island, and that other stream was nothing but mud. The sparkling torrent was gorgeous, and the mushrooms around him smelled sweet. However, Sal did wonder if he were breathing in any dangerous spores.
He found himself being studied by the shaman, who had the hood of her cloak pulled back, revealing bright white hair and again, no skin on her face and neck. He could see her tendons and a bit of her esophagus.
Rugar had fallen back to the entrance to the river cavern. He was out of earshot, and there was no way he would be able to hear anything with the water roaring over the glittering rocks.
That was good.
The shaman had a series of shelves around her, filled with books. A round table sat on a stone in the middle of the clearing, and there were several very comfortable looking cushioned chairs. They could have furniture out in the open because it wasn’t like it would ever rain.
Sal felt very exposed, which was ironic, since he had skin. He put his hands on his hips, but that didn’t feel right, and so he clasped them in front of him. Finally, he had to say something. “Isn’t Gurzak a male name?”
The shaman didn’t say a word. She stood there, gazing at him, with those big, round eyes.
Sal had broken the quiet, and it wasn’t like he could stand there in silence now. “And I thought a female shaman was called a shamanka.”
“Why do you have a mouse in your pocket?” The shaman asked in Gorbin. Her voice had the creak of an old woman. Yes, given that their skin was transparent, it was hard to detect wrinkles. Generally, they had to get dusty or dirty.
Much to Sal’s surprise, Betty answered in perfect Gorbin. “This poor guy needs all the friends he can get! I’m Betty Don’t-Bite. This is Sal Fang. We’re new in town. And our man Sally needs some help with his Diagraff.”
“Come closer,” the old woman ordered.
Sal shuffled forward. “You do not call it a Diagraff. You call it the Magica Plexa. And you call Mana, Prana. I read that in a tome, written by GuNakt, a thousand years ago. He served the Dark Lord.”
“I know the writings of GuNakt,” the Gorbin shaman said quietly. “I believe I have some of his poetry here. His juvenile poetry. Such angst. But the young feel such angst because life is new, and they are enamored with their own lives. As one ages, one’s own self becomes so much less interesting than the lives of others.”
“I have felt that,” Sal said.
“But you’re still young.” The shaman held out her hand. “Let me see your Plexus. You’ve come all this way for me to help you, so we might as well get to it.”
“Might as well.” But Sal wasn’t moving. “You don’t seem surprised that I have a talking mouse in my breast pocket.”
The Gorbin woman continued to stare into his eyes. She might have blinked, but he couldn’t detect it. That was the problem with transparent eyelids. “Betty is most likely one of the Gwynar mice. That is unlikely, but you’re an unlikely customer, Mr. Sal Fang. You speak Gorbin like my great, great, great grandfather. And GuNakt might’ve been my great, great, great grandfather. You have his book. Rugar was right to insist I see you. And on a Sunday. I usually take the weekends off.”
“Your city is spectacular,” Sal said, and he knew, he was dragging his feet, because there was a very real chance the shaman would see down into the depths of his soul. And the results could be catastrophic. Outside of Betty, no one alive knew he was Salvanguish Abner Ordinal. Shivaun knew, but she wasn’t alive.
The shaman nodded. “Yes, the city is nice. If you’re not going to take my hands, Sally, then you’re going to have to leave. Maybe leave the book for me to read. I could use a nice, new book.”
Sal swallowed hard. “Will you just look at my Diagraff, or will you delve into the depths of my heart.”
The shaman smiled. Sal could tell because her jaw shifted a bit. “I suppose I’ll delve. How could I not? I am an evil creature of the darkness.”
“No,” Sal said. “You are simply a Gorbin shaman, who happens to have transparent skin. GuNakt made your people’s ruse clear. It kept you safe, and it gave you certain advantages. Us dermderms stayed away from your underground kingdoms out of fear.”
“Fear is powerful,” the shaman made motions for him to grab his hands. “Fear is stopping you from doing what you have come to do. You don’t want to reveal your deepest, darkest secrets to me, but you’ll have to, if I’m to study your Magica Plexus.”
She was right.
Sal reached out, but before he grabbed her hands, he had to ask for mercy. “Be kind. Once you know the truth, please, don’t call your guards. I took an oath to give Betty chocolate-chip cookies, and if I am slain, I will have failed her.”
“Yeah, Gurzak!” Betty piped up. “Don’t go throwing spells around. I’ve been waiting a long time for them cookies!”
Then, Sal was holding her hands.
Nothing happened for a long, long time.
Unlike with Kaixo, Sal wasn’t given even a glimpse into the life of the Gorbin shaman. She might be delving, but Sal didn’t feel anything. And she wasn’t speaking. She just stood there, expressionless, her eyes staring.
Finally, Sal again had to the be first one to speak. “Are you seeing anything?”
“I am. But not everything. What is your secret? Tell me yourself.”
This was the moment Sal had dreaded from the very start. He didn’t know if the old woman knew everything already, but he had the idea she didn’t. She hadn’t delved.
She waited.
Sal gathered up every bit of courage in him. “I am Salvanguish Abner Ordinal, the Dark Lord of old, and I have been reborn. A thousand years ago, I commanded armies of the Gorbin, who slavishly did my dark bidding. I thought you were a bloodthirsty, monstrous people, and so I chose you as my minions. I was mistaken. Why did your people agree to serve me? Why?”
“Because didn’t that convince all the world that the Gorbin were monsters? Didn’t that keep them from interfering with us? Besides, you did have very good training facilities, and we became very good at war. That can be helpful when dealing with Skinfolk who are so often driven by completely genocidal principles. By the way, I do not like referring to the Skinfolk as dermderms, or melmels, or pinksmiles.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Sal felt tears in his eyes. He’d told someone the whole truth. Someone alive, not a ghost, not a mouse, but another person, who now had the power to destroy him.
A message hit him, and the hope felt almost painful, as powerful emotions made his heart pound.
<<<>>>
Good job! Karmic Gauge increased by 2%. Telling someone the truth is powerful. And sometimes, the only person you can trust is a total stranger. Life is funny that way.
Current Karmic Gauge: 1% (Dark Red)
<<<>>>
All that hope suddenly vanished. He was back to square one. How could that be?
“You’re unlocked,” the shaman said softly. “I believe whatever is going on with you, that was what was holding you back. You were wise, though, to wait. Because if any of the Skinfolk in Tower City knew who you were, they would arrest you, and you would be put on trial. You would be found guilty. You would be hanged.”
He thought of Kaixo, and her talk of courts and trials. Tomorrow, she would do her Tower Climb. She had magic items to help, but still, it was so dangerous.
As dangerous as telling a stranger the truth about your worst sins.
Sal couldn’t wait. He accessed his Diagraff.
<<< >>>
Salvanguish Abner Ordinal
Diagraff Vitalis
Karmic Gauge: 1% Dark Red and Flashing
Race: Resurrected Human, and a relatively honest one at that!
Vitalis Type: Entrepreneurial Culinarian (But come on, that’s still pretty common, given the fact that a ton of people want to open restaurants, or start a business, so don’t get too big for your britches)
Vitalis Path: Porridge Purveyor
Initial Mana Potential: 20
Maximum Modified Mana: 22
Current Level/DevStep: Level 1, Developmental Step 2
Experience Point Monitoring: Not Applicable
Pending Work Points: Two (02) Total Work Points Available
BodyWork Modifier: 10%
SoulWork Modifier: 10 %
Proficiencies:
BodyWork Proficiencies
* Youngin Reflexes
SoulWork Proficiencies
* Pending Choices and Work Points Distribution.
Vitalis Path Proficiencies
* Choose Path Proficiencies! Ask Gurzak for help. Distribute Work Points. You can do that on your own.
<<< >>>
Reviewing his Diagraff, Sal had a ton of questions, though he was so glad that some things looked familiar. He could improve his BodyWork or his SoulWork by adding the Work Points to them. That was good news, but he only had two points, so it wasn’t like it was that big of a deal. He should get three points at third level, and so on, up to nine, but when he rolled over to Level 2, he’d go back to only getting one, two, and so on.
He knew how to distribute Work points, like his Diagraff said. He wasn’t so sure about his Path Proficiencies.
The shaman laughed. “Well, a Porridge Purveyor sounds very auspicious compared to being a Porridge Peasant. And you have a Vitalis Type now, which is also very good. But you have a few options when it comes to your Path Proficiencies.”
Sal found he was still holding the woman’s hands. They were both getting a little sweaty, and so he went to drop hers, but she didn’t let him go. “No, we should stay connected. Otherwise, bad things might happen to your unlikely soul.”
“Why do I have an unlikely soul?” Sal asked, a little hurt.
Betty laughed. “Oh, buddy, while I like your soul, it is unlike anyone else’s. Nobody gets resurrected by the gods. Well, almost nobody.”
“The former Dark Lord,” Gurzak mused. “In my solitude room. Very unlikely. Would you like to know your choices, Sally?”
He wasn’t sure he liked his new nickname. No, he didn’t like it at all. “Before, when I was the Dark Lord, I would study to add magic to my proficiencies. I would find books that outlined different skills and spells, and then add them myself. Can I not add them now?”
Gurzak shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. but you’re going to need my help. I don’t know why.”
Betty had an idea. “Maybe your Mysterious Benefactor wants to keep you humble. I mean, you couldn’t unlock your Diagraff yourself. Kinda makes sense you’d need help dealing with your magic, pal.”
Sal felt so out of control over his own life. He swallowed hard. “Uh, I would like not to have the Sally sobriquet. Sal, or Sal Fang would be preferable.”
“Gotcha,” Betty said. “No more Sally.”
“I’m fine with that.” The shaman squeezed his hand. “Now, young man, my Dark Lord, it’s time. From what I understand, you can have food related magic. Mighty Musclecakes. Power Pork. Heroic Hashbrowns. Wonder Waffles. Eggs Hell. I think those are your options.”
Sal felt a bit heated about this whole situation. “How do you know all of this? Should I not have access to my own options?”
The shaman shrugged. “I did not ask for this. You came to me, I found your Diagraff, and now I am getting messages from your Mysterious Benefactor.”
Betty chuckled. “To quote the Ponti, oh boy, I know you have to be hating that. You don’t get to call the shots, and you don’t get to do this on your own, chief. It’s me, you, and the lady shaman all the way!”
The old woman shook her head. “Just refer to me as a shaman. And not to make matters worse, Sal Fang. I don’t know what the various magics do. I would imagine the Might Musclecakes give whoever eats them increased strength. Maybe it increases their BodyWork. Your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps in time, I’ll know more. We both could possibly study it. Yor use of Mana, what we call Prana, is bound to be different. And I don’t think I know of anyone else having this class. Food-related magic is very rare.”
“No, just rare. Unheard of.” Sal sighed. “Are there cases of the Gorbin getting cooking magic?”
“Rarely,” she said. “And those that chose that life ended up, in most cases, regretting it. They have been locked inside kitchens, cooking for hours upon hours at a time, in restaurants that are successful, but then they are chained to that success.”
“Sounds like your situation, buddy!” Betty spouted off.
“Sounds more like my father’s,” Sal murmured. “Without the success part. He couldn’t imbue his food with magic.”
“What happened to your father?” the shaman asked abruptly. “In the history of our people, we saw him as the only rational member of your family. We had high hopes for his son, and yet, you turned out to be as bad, if not as successful, as Mood.”
Sal winced. That stung. “I prefer not to answer that question. My thoughts concerning my father have changed, quite a bit, but I have a question for you, Gurzak. Here you are, with the former Dark Lord in your solitude room, and you don’t seem all that surprised. I have to wonder if you’ll tell anyone who I really am.”
The shaman thought for a second. “In the end, our fates have always been tied together, the Dark Lord and the Gorbin. Yes, you would come to us when you are in need. But because of your Karmic Gauge, you are on a different path. You couldn’t conquer anymore even if you wanted to. And each time you level, your life hangs in the balance. If you were to slip back to 0%, you wouldn’t just lose your level. You’d lose your life. That has to be humbling.”
Sal found some laughter. “All of this humbling. So will you keep my secret?”
The Gorbin woman nodded. “Yes, I will. But I would ask that in return for my discretion, and my help with your Magica Plexus, you would be our proponent with the governor and all the people in Tower City. If there is talk of invasion or slaughter, we’d like to know about it. And the book. I want to borrow The Chronicles of GuNakt.” She paused. “Do we have a deal?”
“We do,” Sal said. And he told her about him being a potential spy for Ziggy.
“I am not surprised.” The shaman took it in stride. “We’re forever hated. But as long as we’re left alone, we can handle the hatred. Now, what is your choice? Or do you plan to leave here empty-handed?”
“Never,” Sal said.
“Right answer!” Betty piped up. “If we can add a little spice to your bacon, it’s bound to sell even better than it sold yesterday!”
Sal squinted. “But I was curious about Hajawan hashbrowns. I was hoping to get a recipe.”
The Gorbin woman nodded. “I can help with that.”
“Very well.” Sal couldn’t help but add an additional question. “Why do you refer to yourself as shaman and not shamanka? And I believe Gurzak would be a male name. Do you not go by Gurzaka?”
“All of that is very old-fashioned,” the shaman said. “All of us Gorbin holy folk are just shamans, that’s it, shamans. We don’t need to feminize it at all. Not every woman needs to add an ‘a’ or an ‘i’ to their name. Get with the times, Sal Fang.”
Betty grinned. “I’ll try and drag our Dark Lord into the present century. It’s a challenge. You’ve heard him talk.”
Sal patted the mouse’s head. “You are, of course, right, Ms. Don’t-Bite. My age and outdated ideas aside, I would like the Power Pork proficiency. I do enjoy alliteration.”
“I will make it so,” Gurzak the Shaman said with a smile.
A second later, Sal had his first spell as a resurrected human, following the path of the Entrepreneurial Culinarian.
It was like his life had begun again, again.
And he was so very, very glad.
The only problem was, he didn’t have a description of Power Pork. He had no idea what it would do.
Not one little bit.