My mind was a whirlwind, grappling with the elf's revelations. "How can I affect what ability I get? How do you know so much? What boon should I ask for? And hey, do you know why I am capped at level 10?" I fired off the questions, I was excited, nervous, and confused all at once.
The elf's laughter, a mix of amusement and disbelief, rang through the air. "Okay, um, first thing, everyone is capped at level 10, I think, at least I am also and that Orc must have been too or we wouldn’t have had a chance. It's not commonly done, capping the participants, at least to my knowledge, but I think the Iron Hegemony did it, to keep all the participants more equal in power."
"What is up with that Orc then? If he was capped like us how was he so powerful?" I asked, still trying to comprehend the enormity of what we had just faced.
"I haven’t heard of a being reaching such a level of power at level 10. His training must have been fierce, his breeding impeccable. Had we not joined forces, I would guarantee that he would have won. He was most likely the pride of his clan. His death will probably set them back years, no, decades, maybe centuries. They probably put everything they had into him. If they are at war somewhere, they will probably lose it now, or be forced to make peace. Winning the Immortal Tournament can elevate an entire culture if the right choices are made. The ascendant powers take turns putting it on and they can change a lower powers entire trajectory," the elf explained, their voice tinged with a hint of respect and a touch of… perhaps sorrow for the fallen Orc, or maybe the Orcs culture?
I felt overwhelmed, the weight of the elf's words sinking in. The implications were staggering – the Orc's death wasn't just a victory in a tournament; it was a blow to an entire clan or culture, a ripple effect that would be felt far beyond the confines of this competition. I really had no idea how big this tournament, or system really, was.
The elf continued, addressing my earlier questions. "As for how to affect what ability you are given, it's probably too late now. Who you are, what you are, and what you are becoming – that's what it's based on as far as we know. If there's a way to reliably mold the ability you receive, no one's made it known."
"And what boon should I ask for?" I inquired, the possibilities running wild in my mind.
"What's important to you?" the elf asked simply, their question cutting through the complexity of my thoughts.
Their question lingered in the air as we walked, the forest around us alive with the sounds of nature, yet oddly silent in the wake of our conversation. What was important to me? The answer was probably as important as my survival. What I chose could define my path forward, shaping not just my fate, but potentially the fate of others.
As we trudged through the forest, the weight of the Elf's information pressed heavily upon me. My thoughts raced – what was important to me? What boon would be significant enough to make a difference for me, for Earth? Should I replace my arm? I must admit I found the prospect of a biomechanical arm pretty cool, I would be like something out of Salve. Is that choice selfish? My getting a new arm does nothing for Earth, and I was getting around pretty good with my shield. I felt like my fighting style was adjusting nicely. Another option came to me then, could I use the boon to help Earth? What kind of boon would they need? How could I even know? The knowledge that others were also capped at level 10 brought a small measure of relief, but it was overshadowed by the enormity of everything else.
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"Is it okay if I ask more questions?" I ventured cautiously, Aspirant had been so forthcoming and I had learned more from them in my short time walking with them than I had since I arrived in this tournament.
The Elf glanced at me, a hint of amusement in their eyes. "You are distracting, but currently I find your distractions welcome."
Encouraged, I began to talk about my meditation and the events that transpired with Korrok, how I had confided in him the mysteries of my unconscious and how he left so sunddenly. But before I could finish, Aspirant sharply cut me off. "Do not speak anymore of it," they commanded, their tone firm and unyielding.
Surprised and somewhat taken aback by their reaction, I demanded, "Why? Why can't I talk about it?"
The Elf's expression turned serious, their eyes narrowing slightly. "What you are talking about is rare, and jealously guarded. What happened in your meditations, the experiences, and revelations you apparently encountered, are deeply personal and potentially dangerous if shared carelessly. There are ears everywhere, and not all are friendly and what is happening to you does not happen outside of certain circles. I really can’t say anymore but I don’t envy your friend Korrok."
Their warning sent a chill down my spine. The idea that discussing my inner experiences could somehow be dangerous was unsettling. Had I caused something to happen to Korrok? Is there someway I can help him? Perhaps my boon if I win?
I nodded, understanding the gravity of their words. "I'll be more careful," I assured them, my mind still reeling from the implications. There is something going on in my mind when I meditate. What could be on the other side of that bridge? I mulled over Aspirant's warning, my thoughts spiraling into deeper contemplation. His words about the dangers of sharing my inner experiences resonated with me, casting a shadow of uncertainty over what I had previously considered merely peculiar occurrences in my meditations. What did he mean by the information being 'jealously guarded'? The notion that my introspective journey could lead to something significant, or perilous, was both intriguing and unsettling. What secrets did my subconscious hold that were so valuable, or dangerous?
My mind then drifted back to the intense battle with the Orc. I couldn't shake off the memory of feeling his overwhelming rage, as if it were a tangible entity calling to me. In that heated moment, it had felt almost natural to sense violent emotions. But was I the only one to feel it so acutely? Aspirant hadn't mentioned sensing anything similar. Was this experience unique to me, and if so, why? The questions swirled in my head, was something happening to me?
The possibility that I had some latent ability to perceive or even influence emotions was troubling. It raised a myriad of questions about my own nature and the nature of this realm. Was this some untapped psionic ability manifesting itself, or something else entirely? My class had nothing to do with mental powers. Was it possible to earn powers outside of the traditional way in the system? I did remember Korrok or perhaps it was Elyria… doesn’t matter, I did remember someone mentioning that powers could evolve.
I wanted to discuss these thoughts with Aspirant, to delve deeper into this mystery, but his stern warning held me back. Apparently I had already revealed too much, and his reaction indicated that such revelations were not to be taken lightly. The stakes were higher than I had imagined, and the last thing I wanted was to endanger myself or others by being recklessly forthcoming.