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The Purpose of Wings
Words From Beyond

Words From Beyond

There was much studying to do to prove herself to other Mages who hadn't already met her. Her main wizard contact in the Knowledge Society sponsored her, citing her "unusual insight", but also seemed worried she'd be snatched up first by another group. The Alchemists around here weren't much competition for Selen's excitement because they seemed more interested in control than in improvement. The Engineers just weren't where her talent lay, though maybe she could convince Zahar to look more into incorporating magic into machinery. A darkness spell could, as a strange example, act like oil. "Change your Mana every 5000 miles," she muttered.

"Huh?" said Newroot, sitting beside her with Sunflare at their usual table in the Shrike Tavern.

Selen startled out of her daydreaming. With one hand she'd been sketching a molecule of carmine dye, a mass of hexagons. "Thinking about magic and engineering."

The others had gotten started on their own planned careers. Newroot still dreamed of being a Fighter and had taken a level in it through training with the Dungeoneers, but had waffled about whether to take the decisive step of formally entering the city guard or volunteering for the actual army. (Selen still had little idea how it worked, as the politics around here wasn't high on her priority list.) So he'd chosen to take a level of Agent for the moment, the versatile class that her business employed as messengers.

"I'm now in my third season with the System," he said, "and I don't know what to do for a third level. I may have to sit out and not gain one this time."

"Kind of a shame," Selen said.

"For a second level of Fighter, I'd need to do some actual battle. Can't just earn it with another practice session. Unless maybe it's a really tough one. And for more Agent levels I don't even know what I'd need to do."

Sunflare, sitting beside him, was more determined. He was a bit older than Selen and had three levels of Agent already, meaning that he'd missed his chance to advance in the fall. He said, "A tough delivery run, like a rush job or a heavy load -- heavy by Centaur standards of course."

"Or actual sneaky stuff, right?"

The red Aves preened worriedly at one wing. "Yeah. I haven't had much opportunity for that. Or I could try specializing into Merchant. I still don't know what I'm doing. You've suggested going for Mage as a second class, but what if that's a dead end for me?"

"It can't hurt," Newroot said. "Just go for it and if it fails, drop it and pick something else."

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Selen volunteered, "I can certainly go over the basics of magic again." She had been teaching whatever she could to the basement crew, along with basic math that'd help them if they went into business.

Newroot asked Selen, "How come you were never interested in being an Agent and going to Merchant like your dad and aunt?"

"I felt like I can do more this way. Had big ambitions about inventing things."

"Because of the visions last spring?"

She nodded. "But now, focusing on magic and building up a reputation probably matters more."

Newroot said, "I guess I could try Mage also, but then I'd have three classes and that would start making it harder to improve any of them. Maybe it's time to try a dungeon trip, to learn more about what we're good at."

She feared the two of them just weren't getting as much out of the System as they should. The need to keep finding bigger and bigger achievements caused most people to plateau too early with their class levels and not necessarily even get every possible stat point. Selen added, "Both of you can get farther in whatever you're doing. I want to help."

A stray phrase caught Selen's attention, off to one side. A grinning Human in beat-up leather travel clothes was earning his dinner by telling a story to a mixed group at his table. The man said, "Then Mister Land asked about the strange armor aboard the Nautilus, and Captain Nemo said, 'With these suits you can walk around beneath the sea.'"

Selen fell out of her chair, recovered, flapped, and crashed feet-first onto the far table. "What did you just say?!"

The dinner crowd had scattered in fright. Selen's left foot was shredding a salad and beer had pooled around her right. The storyteller had jumped backward and reached for a knife, saying, "Whoa, girl! Whatever you heard, it was no insult."

Selen's feathery cheeks burned and her toe-claws squashed through the food. "Oh God, I'm sorry. It's just..." She looked back at her equally startled friends. "You two! Did I ever tell you a story about Capain Nemo and the underwater ship? It had a tentacle monster and a whirlpool; you'd remember it."

A wide-eyed Newroot shook his head. Sunflare said, "No...?"

Selen turned back to the talespinner, barely avoiding a basket of bread. She looked down and said, "Then who told you?"

The man let go of his knife hilt. "I heard it on the river."

"What else? What other stories did the river tell you?"

Newroot had trotted up and tapped at Selen's tail. "You might want to get down."

She hopped down, but still had eyes only for this traveler. "Please, where exactly?"

Her target slicked back his hair and brushed lettuce off his shirt. "There's a bar in a town called Shieldpoint south of here. They've had some weird stories the last two times I stopped by. There was this one about knights with glowing swords and flying ships, and one about a different flying ship that goes to other stars."

"What was that other ship's name?"

"Venture."

She was pretty sure it was the closest translation for Enterprise. Selen quivered, her wings and tail twitching. "I didn't tell anybody those stories."

"What's wrong, kid?" asked the man. Her friends had gathered too, with the same question.

"Unless I'm greatly mistaken, I've just been slapped upside the head by some god or other." She looked at the disrupted dinner. "I'm sorry; can I pay to replace some of that?"