“Hey.”
The young and promising novice Moch Veranus... was asleep. It was an unremarkable sleep, and he was in complete darkness. This darkness was not especially scary, it was simply what one experienced when one was asleep and not ‘dreaming’.
“Hey!”
Moch was very much appreciating the sleep - he was recovering from the day’s labour. His body was getting some much needed rest from being active all day. There was nothing that could get in the way of him and this bout of sleep.
“This is getting annoying. Moch!”
Moch had an unremarkable body - he was tall enough, strong from work and soft from many meals. He had black hair, brown eyes, a big nose and liked to smile. The maturing youth had a heart of gold, a predisposition towards laughter and loyalty, and an abundant amount of an entire three friends. Two of which were his parents. The other, his childhood friend and neighbour, had left on her own adventure a while ago.
“That’s enough monologue from you, narrator. We get it. He’s average. And yet we’re choosing him... Moch!”
A sudden will to rise struck Moch, and he got up. He did not wake from his sleep, but his body appeared in the darkness, kind of aware of what was around him. He looked up and didn’t see - but felt an omnipresence hanging above and around him.
“Finally! Moch, I have a great tas-”
“Hey!” Moch thrust a return greeting into the dark.
“...Yes, hi. There is a great quest th-”
“Uh!” Moch interrupted the great being in the dark again.
“Yes?”
“Can I have some clothes?” Upon further inspection, Moch had come to realise that he was naked. He was not altogether ashamed of his nakedness, but being stared at so intensely by some floating presence was causing him to blush.
“Wha- that’s not important. We’re in a dream right now.”
“Yeah but I’m feeling really exposed right now. Might get a cold.”
“You can’t get a cold in a dream." The presence noticed Moch was going to respond again without listening to him.
"Wait! Ok, whatever.” Acceding to his request, the presence blessed him some clothes, with a cool “hmph” targeted at Moch, who found himself covered in an ensemble of brown rags.
“Anyway, Moch! There is a great need - and you have been found worthy of this undertaking! … are you paying attention?”
“Yeah, no, yes, I was just thinking that of all the clothes you could have imagined for me, I was wondering why you’d choose a set of level 1 [brown rags] is all.”
“This ungrateful little sh- You know what? Nevermind.” Moch’s curiosity killed the being’s intentions for an intense, quest-granting monologue. He disappeared, hmph-ing Moch awake.
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The sun streaked through Moch’s glass window, landing on his undisturbed body. A sudden jolt shook Moch awake, and he sat on the side of his bed, shaking his grogginess away. His room was barebones - a straw bed, a stuffed chair, a central low table, a covered pot of cold water, and a mirror. It was a rectangular 'home'… or more so a room, with two windows flanking a single door. He’d begun to recall what had just happened to him as if it were not a dream, and was beginning to process what happened.
“You really bunked it, Moch.”
“Yeah. Feels like it - thanks Oats.”
“No worries.”
There were some worries. As Moch removed his hands from rubbing his face, he realised he was face to face with a floating, no, levitating, fairy. She was attractive and tiny, with straw coloured hair, with long elven ears. She noticed Moch begin to summon a scream of surprise, and shot a tiny but dazzling beam onto him. [Silence]! This quietened him but did not quell his surprise. His eyes were still wide when he began to quiz the fairy.
“Who are you? What are you? Why do I know your name!”
“I’m the guide, sent to you by… someone you don’t need to know yet. I’m here to interfere with your class selection!”
Oats had straightforwardly said such a malicious thing - it was indeed today that Moch’s class selection would happen! Having come of age, Moch was to go to the center of his village and attend a ceremony, where the village chief would facilitate a class-choosing ceremony, which would very much dictate how the rest of his life would go. What could Oats have meant by “interfere”?
“Don’t worry. I’m not evil! You can check my details!”
Oats had a lot of basic skills, as did everyone his age, with analysis being one of the most regularly used. Children and youth in his village would attend an experiential and hands-on school, where the village chief, alumni adventurers and other teachers would provide enough instruction for their students' systems to register skills for them so that they could use the skills independently.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
He activated it the way he always did, with his subconscious signalling his intention to use it. It was the owner’s duty to remember how many skills they had, and how to activate them. Some were easier, like [Analysis], and others, like combat spells, required more complex conditions like chanting, and hand movements.
[Analysis]!
Name
Oats (Level 50)
Class
Suppressed Avatar of [redacted] - Fairy Form
Description
A well-meaning and beautiful fairy who is here on a divine mission. She is beautiful and capable, equipped with many utility and support spells, and anyone she follows is a lucky fellow. Did I mention she was beautiful?
Currently following - Moch Veranus
Smirking proudly, Oats knew that Moch was done examining her status screen. She’d asked her divine boss to make a few… edits… to the description, but otherwise status screens (or however much one allowed the other to read of theirs), were infallible. She waited to be complimented by Moch, but it never came. Moch was indeed surprised, as he was at his level 10 pre-advancement cap, and level 50 indicated quite a high level of capability. She’d likely be able to outrank a city captain, or be some retired adventurer in charge of a guild.
“Yep. Ok. Floating fairy from the sky. Level 50. Not violent - so - my class choice is more important - let’s go. I might be late already.” Moch said as he rose from his bed, and washed his face from a nearby basin of water.
“Eh? You have nothing to say? Maybe about my description? Maybe about how… I look?” Oats acted coy, turned away, and sheepishly asked.
When she turned shyly back to him, his figure was already halfway through the door. She “tsk-ed” to show her displeasure, and followed him.
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Taking long strides, Moch hurried to the town square, where he saw most of the village had gathered for the occasion. It was a positive energy humming in the air - as the class-choice day was always celebratory. It was the first step toward adulthood, and it wasn’t every day that one would see their friends and family have a divine conversation, after all. The ceremony seemed to have begun already, with a similarly aged friend of Moch’s having just landed on the central stone platform, with a floating status screen proudly presenting [Warrior]. A stable and all-rounded class, and one that Moch had set his sights on. Seeing the screen made Moch even more excited, and he joined the short line of those who were also newly of age.
Name
Boe Langshire
Class
Warrior
Skills
(Primary)
* Greater Endurance
* Martial Arts
* Soldier’s Command
Classes were an interesting and unique thing in Moch’s world. They generally had “fixed” beginnings, as dictated by the God Deity Sylvanus’ divine messengers on the day of the class-choice, but they developed, morphed and evolved depending on what the person chose to do with their life. The decision they made, the ethics they worked with, their successes, their failures, and so on. This was why it was so important - as one would know their beginning skills and proficiencies from that day forth - marking the first day of the rest of their lives. The downward spiral of a person’s character and class mismatching was avoided as this was not an ‘automatic’ process, but an intentional one by Sylvanus and her messengers filled with autonomy and discussion.
After what felt like a lifetime, it was Moch’s turn. He didn’t notice Oats, who was floating invisibly by his right ear, and her smirk. Guided by the village chief, he took nervous and excited steps to the center of the platform.
He was quickly enveloped by a holy light - with specks of green and gold swirling around the platform in a bubble. Once this process had begun, no one could interfere. Actually - there was never a precedent that there was more than one being in the conversation - yet Oats was there, levitating and humming happily.
“Welcome, Moch Veranus. A great name, and one that pays tribute to our deity.” The ethereal messenger, floating above the ground and looking serenely downwards to Oats, said. It was hard to place a gender or an age, but it was clear that beneath their exuberance and shininess was great power.
“Hmm?”
“Hey. Oh!” Oats interjected. It was then that Moch had even noticed Oats was still around, and began to panic, thinking he had transgressed some kind of law by bringing another party to this conversation.
“Oh!” The messenger exclaimed coolly. They seemed to go through a myriad of emotions, of happiness, of shock, surprise, and acceptance, as they had an unnoticeable conversation between each other. Moch was not privy to this conversation, and watched as two floating beings stared at each other.
“Very well then!” The messenger nodded their head and started to imbue an energy into Moch, transforming and catalysing his very being.
“Wait! Wait! Don’t you have to ask me a lot of questions? Quiz my intentions, read my heart? Isn’t that what always happens!?”
The messenger smirked as they imbued the last of the required energy into Moch. As Moch was the last person in the line, the messenger smiled serenely at all those attending, with their gaze lingering on Moch a bit longer than the others, and left - flying upwards and disappearing.
There was a great buzz as the protective bubble subsided, and Moch’s status screen showed:
Name
Moch Veranus
Class
Pactmaker
Skills
(Primary)
* Endless Chest of Gifts
* Friendship
* Spirit Equip
Pact…maker? Friendship?