It took us a few more hours of experimentation to dial in the parameters to use a snap script. This one unknown sigil made all the difference, and the way it affected every aspect of the next script in the chain was difficult to handle.
My best guess was that this sigil had never been supposed to be used like we were trying to use it. It had been handcrafted to do this one, specific task, and nothing else. It presumably monitored the mana that gathered in the user’s hand and reacted to the force of mana hitting mana during the snap. However, the script would be affected by the mana in your hand, and you would end up using different amounts than you were intending to.
For the gods, this was presumably not a problem. While I didn’t know how much mana they had, it must’ve been a lot to produce that “godly glow.” You wouldn’t have to worry about the mana usage in that case. The scripts the gods had used were also different from our water scripts, in that there had been no amounts or forces to control. Essentially, nothing could go wrong for them, while a miscalculation on our part could mean death.
Also unlike the gods, we weren’t drawing scripts in the air, so we would be limited in the scripts we could use this for. We had yet to find a way to select only one script to activate when you had multiple snap scripts on your body at once. They all monitored your hands, so they would all go off at once. We would have to select only one script for this activation method.
Even with these caveats, however, snap activation was pretty amazing. Even though, technically, it might not actually seem all that impressive. Whether you snapped your fingers or pressed on a script, the result would essentially be the same. However, snap activation would leave more of an impression, because of how effortless it seemed. Even if you saw it happen, you wouldn’t understand what was going on. With a snap, you could make a ball of water appear in front of you, without even aiming at anything, or you could create a stream of water for people. You could also shoot a deadly water blast, without any warning, aside from the sound of a snap. Aiming would be difficult in that case, but the possibility was there, and it was both frightening and fascinating.
For our purposes, this new way of using scripts was a godsend. It would give us a lot more credibility when we claimed that we were chosen by the gods, and that Aelene was an imposter. Not only would we be able to do things she couldn’t, we could even do it in ways that Oryn didn’t understand at all. “And for my next magic trick, I’m using a script without a stone, without touching it, and without you even seeing it!” I thought. It would be fun if voice activation existed, so you could just yell “Water Ball!”
I wondered what the exact purpose of the scripts was. As far as I had seen, they were only being used on the water sources and the ritual platforms, and these instruments had presumably not been created by humans. However, the gods used scripts freely as well, albeit in a different way. If these were the only instances where scripts worked, I might accept that it’s godly magic, but the fact that we could use scripts the way we did, implied that this was an entire system that had been put into place by someone. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this meticulously crafted magic-like system, that even incorporated custom sigils, was usable by humans.
If it was not a coincidence, however, and humans were intended to be able to use magic, why was there nobody in this world who was able to do it? Omega was way too complicated for people to figure everything out on their own, but it would be a huge waste to create this entire system and then just hide it away. Had the knowledge been lost to time? Or was something missing? If humans were supposed to be able to learn about magic, what would be the easiest way to do that? Well, for this world the answer is pretty obvious. The Calling ritual.
The ritual essentially gave people the tools they needed to thrive in this world. Building huge civilizations was not in the cards while fleeing for your life every day. It was a miracle that people had survived without Fighters long enough to discover the ritual platforms, and I would be very curious to learn how that had worked at all. Now, humans were getting by, but with magic, the story would be entirely different. Being able to use scripts would give humanity at least a fighting chance. If not more, depending on the number of mages. They were very vulnerable, but also had a lot of potential power. The definition of a glass canon.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Wait... Mages... soldiers... merchants... Agents could pass for rogues... Is this an RPG job system!? How did I not see this before!?
“What... the... fuck...” I muttered while sitting in the grass, leaning against a tree close to our camp.
“What’s wrong?” Riala asked, looking up from her notes.
“I just... have a weird theory...”
If all of this had been designed to function like a roll-playing game, a lot about this world would suddenly start to make sense. The rituals were a job assignment, and the beasts were the monsters humanity was supposed to battle. It wasn’t exactly a traditional design from my perspective, but maybe whoever created this had to work within certain limitations. Or they didn’t know what they were doing...
Going by earth-logic, I didn’t think something like a slime or a dragon could actually exist. At least not how they were typically depicted in books and movies. Wolves and bears aren't unusual enemies in games either, however, and if you increased their physical abilities and aggressiveness a little, they would not only be dangerous to normal humans, they would be a danger to their existence as a whole. Just like monsters were supposed to be.
Even if it was just a theory, I felt like I had figured out something massive. For some reason I was certain that I was onto something. Someone had created a game-like world and had made it possible for even something as abstract as magic to exist. They created monsters, as the big bad, but also the job system, giving people abilities and knowledge they would otherwise not have, or might need centuries to cultivate. There was one problem, however. If this is true, why are mages not a thing?
Unfortunately, the answer seemed rather obvious when I thought back to our experiments in Cerus. Two gods had appeared and literally prevented us from administering a Calling. One that apparently didn’t exist yet. Up until we came along, however, there was no way to check Callings, and no way to force a specific one to go through. I didn’t know the extent to which the gods might be able to affect the normal ritual, but what if they were able to simply block certain Callings? And what if they hadn’t been able to do it with our modified script? In that case, they would’ve had to resort to actively stopping the ritual. Just like they did...
That left the question of whether Riala’s Calling was the missing mage Calling. She was most certainly gifted, so it might seem obvious, but there were a plethora of jobs that could potentially exist under the “mana user” umbrella. Or she could just have a talent for this, while her Calling was something else altogether, as we didn’t know how many Callings the gods might be blocking. I could think of dozens of jobs one could put into such a system that the gods might have a problem with.
Why mages though? If I’m right, the gods are holding back humanity’s development, by forcing them to live behind walls, or by bowing to the beasts. They’re also preventing people from growing much stronger though... Aelene might not quite be on the level of a god, but she supposedly is close. And there might also be a way to increase your mana. If humans were able to “become gods”... would the current gods maybe not be happy about that...? Oh, and the goddess Shae didn’t want us to leave after awakening... She must’ve known that we would be able to defend ourselves, so why were we supposed to stay in town? Aside from the fact that we would’ve probably been killed in there, it would’ve also held us back. Without major hassles, we couldn’t have learned much more in Alarna.
More and more pieces started falling into place. While I hated to not be able to confirm theories, all of this not only made sense, but it felt instinctively correct somehow.
As the forest grew darker due to the setting sun, I could see Reurig and Tomar enter the clearing in the distance. He had gone to pick him up, to lessen the risk of getting attacked by beasts. As Riala and I got up to meet them at the campfire, one last thought crossed my mind. Even if this is all true... What the heck is up with the talking beasts...?