> “For six-hundred years has this Union stood. Exactly six-hundred years since the Aelvic and Ohrken nations came together to protect our independence from Humanity and its Imperium. In those six centuries, we have seen eight rulers be elected and serve the betterment of our country. Four High Ministers from the Ohrks, and four from the Aelves, among which I am proud to count myself. And it is on this historic anniversary that I bring news.
>
> When the war against the Imperium officially ended, it was well known to our founders that Humanity would one day batter down our door once more, to see us slaughtered and sold as livestock as were our ancestors of ages past, and as some of our lost cousins still are today. And so, they made a determination upon the return of peace.
>
> They swore to prepare us for the day when our sons and daughters would once again take up arms against the Imperium to keep us safe. And now their preparations have come to fruition. The College of Kay’Sel has raised the finest classes of Aelvic mages seen in generations, while the Military Academy’s ever-evolving curriculum has produced some of the most fearsome soldiers this plane has ever seen! With the help of these advancements, and the renewed innovation of our craftsmen brought about by the war, we are finally in a position to strike back at Humanity, and leave our greatest enemy crippled for ages to come.
>
> Many of you may still remember the horrors of the first Imperial War — how hordes of soldiers swarmed our towns and cities, overcoming even our most skilled forces with sheer numbers. You may wonder how we hope to truly injure an enemy that outnumbers us tenfold, much less defeat them. To you, I say this:
>
> You need not cut off the Hydra’s many heads to kill it, if you can but strike out at its heart. Thus we shall approach Humanity as a Hydra, and strike out at its beating heart, leaving the heads to wither and die where they hang. There is no need to fight such a warlike enemy head-on when we can simply sow chaos and leave them to occupy themselves.
>
> To you, fair peoples of the Republic of Jeröam, I say this:
>
> The time to fear Humanity has passed; the Age of Freedom is at hand!”
— Aelvic High Minister Pae’Rul II, during his nineteenth Union Day address.
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“Thank you.”
Cain stepped through the door and past Magira, grunting under the weight of the bundle of leather in his arms. Video games always put leather in the ‘light armor’ category, but it seemed that was no indication of the actual weight of such gear. He was thankful he hadn’t decided on getting plate mail. He felt the door swing shut behind him as he dropped the weighty lump of leather onto the room’s singular bed. Sitting down next to it with a sigh, he swung the much lighter knapsack over his shoulder and unhooked the iron buckle clasping it shut. Magira approached him hesitantly, ears fully trained on him.
“Um… welcome back?” She said apprehensively.
“Thanks, sorry it took so long. I got a little distracted on the way.”
He took out the paper package on the top layer of the bag’s contents, and unfolded it to reveal a simple but appetizing sandwich. He pushed it into Magira’s hands and set his own to the side. Cain continued rifling through the knapsack, pulling out two simple hunting knives, two water skins, two pairs of scratchy woolen socks, and a folded set of clothes, setting them all aside in search of the true prize of his shopping trip, at the very bottom of the bag. After another pair of folded clothes, he found it. A simple blue dress with a white underskirt, made complete with a yellow ribbon and a simple yellow-and-blue flower hairpin he’d found. A lot of the memories Cain had seen the night before featured a girl with features much like Magira’s own, often wearing a blue-and-yellow dress and a white flower in her hair. He wasn’t able to find an exact match at the tailor, but he got the closest thing he could find. Beginning to smile a little, Cain pulled out the items and held them out for Magira to see, who froze in the middle of a bite of her sandwich to stare wide-eyed at him.
“You needed some new clothes, so I got you two pairs, both enchanted to be self-mending, self-cleaning, and self-adjusting — since I didn’t know your measurements.” He paused, enjoying her look of shock. “After you’re finished eating, you can take a bath and try them on.”
Magira blinked, and returned to wolfing down her food. By the time she finished her sandwich and took the stack of clothes from him, Cain could have sworn she was starting to tear up. He took a moment to appreciate the sight as she sprinted off to the bathroom. The interaction made him think of how Lily would run off with the presents he brought for her back when his mother was still allowed visitation. He wouldn’t miss most of his family, but he would be genuinely sad to never see his little sister again. Not that I’d want a world like this for her…
Shaking himself from reflection, Cain decided to get back to sorting through his new purchases. Most appealing to him were the ash-gray leather cloaks in a heap next to him. They were apparently made from ‘entropy leather,’ a variation of leather skinned from entropic undead. These ones apparently came from entropic worgs — though he still hadn’t found out what those were — to increase the thickness and durability of the cloak. The old hunter who sold it to him had been very enthusiastic about its properties, although buying the pair cost a full silver. Cain turned out to be a rather impulsive buyer when it came to magic items. The thing that supposedly made entropy leather special was its ability to conceal the mana of the wearer. This made it one of the only ways to protect against mana sight, which was apparently a necessity for fighting certain creatures. It would also help Cain avoid getting tangled up with curious humans like Roberts, who had been quick to remark what an odd combination blood and fire aspects were. He didn’t imagine that would become less true with poison thrown into the mix.
It also had some enchantments inscribed on it, so it wouldn’t be a singular-use tool. The hunter had told him it had the Mending, Anti-Piercing, and Anti-Combustion runes on it. With all of those together, he would be harder to stab, harder to damage with fireballs, and he wouldn’t have to get the cloak repaired. The part of him that had wasted thousands of hours on RPGs was vibrating with glee. Plus, getting two meant Magira could have one too. Cain disentangled the heavy cloaks from each other and extracted the lumps of leather he’d stashed inside. Two pairs of worg-leather boots, though these were only regular leather, enchanted to be self-mending and self-adjusting. Two pairs of similarly enchanted fingerless gloves, presumably for archers, both of the glove-equivalent of knee-high socks — they came about halfway up his forearms. The gloves were actually made from hare pelts, probably for flexibility. Two leather harnesses with attached padding to cover the chest, stomach, shoulders, and thighs. Lining the leather goods up into orderly stacks, Cain turned to the former contents of the knapsack. Two iron hunting knives, enchanted to be self-mending. Two pairs of scratchy socks — self-mending, self-cleaning. Cain briefly wondered who would bother enchanting socks until he remembered washing machines probably didn’t exist. Three sets of unremarkable clothes, suitable for working and running errands in. One for Magira since she had her dress, and two for him. All of the clothes were self-mending and -cleaning as well. It seemed almost like enchantments were just an everyday convenience here. Like electricity on Earth.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
‘Sorry to bother you, Magira, but I have a question really quick.’
‘O-oh, okay. Um, what’s the question?’ Cain couldn’t actually hear her, but it sounded like he’d derailed a train of thought there.
‘Are enchantments a common thing here? I mean… these socks are enchanted. I didn’t expect it to be so prevalent in everyday items.’
‘Well, yeah. Almost anybody can enchant things. Enchanters just have a lot more knowledge about Runes, and they usually keep their mana pure so that their enchantments are more flexible.’
‘Seriously? The tidbit I unlocked about runes mentioned “mana-conductive material,” which I assumed meant things like the ink used in what I presume is your slave crest.’
‘That’s… one example, I suppose. Most things conduct mana, though, it’s just a matter of how well they do it. The threads in clothing work just fine, and are easy to sew into patterns. Mana-steeped ink is mostly used on living things, since not a lot else will stick to skin in such a permanent way. Living things themselves are great at conducting mana, but it never holds a rigid form for very long inside them. Mana likes to move, and that doesn’t work well with enchantments.’
‘Huh… that was actually really helpful. Thank you, Magira. That actually makes a lot of sense… mana is kind of like an electrical charge in that respect; almost anything can conduct it, but only a few things do it well.’
‘You’re welcome, although I don’t really know what an “electrical charge” is. You seem to understand what I mean, though.’
‘Don’t worry about it, I’ll probably wind up explaining it to you eventually.’
‘Oh, also…’ She trailed off for a moment, seeming uncertain.
‘Yes?’ Cain tried to pack as much curiosity as he possibly could into that single word.
‘Thank you. For the clothes. And the dress… and the hairpin, and the ribbon, and the food.’
‘You’re welcome.’ This time, Cain tried to pack his happiness into one simple sentence. He felt like he succeeded.
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What felt like half an hour after their conversation, after Cain had finished sorting through recent acquisitions, Magira had come out of the bathroom looking much better than she had just yesterday. Layers of dust and grime had washed off to reveal her gray hair to be closer to silver, with the hints of brown fluff around her ears seeming to have twice the vibrancy they did before, even while still damp. Her skin had also come out looking much clearer. Aside from being obviously malnourished, and somewhat red around the eyes, there was now little to set Magira apart from any of the ordinary people Cain had passed in the street. It was a decidedly pleasant change.
Now Cain was able to take his own bath — a first since his reincarnation.
‘Cain, what’s happening?’
‘I don’t care what sorcery you people have come up with using mana. Nothing will ever be more magical to me than hot water.’
‘… What?’
‘You heard me.’
‘Yes, but… I don’t understand. What do you mean?’
‘I mean that baths always have been and always will be the greatest achievement of intelligent life.’
‘I… oh. You’re one of those people that enjoy bathing as much as other people enjoy things like food or sports… right?’
‘Without remorse.’ Cain soaked gratefully in the wooden tub, barely keeping his face above the surface of the hot water.
‘This is what I meant when I called you strange, Cain,’ Magira mentally chuckled at him.
‘Oh?’ Cain prompted.
‘One moment, you’re this strange, mysterious being that thinks and acts completely different to everything I’ve ever known. The next, you’re the most normal person I’ve ever met. It’s jarring how quickly you can change between the two.’
‘Huh… interesting. I guess this means… that baths are universal?’
Magira’s giggle echoed from the other room. ‘Guess so.’
Cain supposed that it was the sudden change in his mental state upon entering the bath that had caused Magira to worry. It wasn’t exactly wrong of her to worry, in fairness. The only other things that had affected him this much were growing fangs, and upgrading his Self-Awareness skill. Not the most encouraging precedent.
Cain basked in the hot water, taking a moment to reflect on his day. It hadn’t started well — being paralyzed on a dirt road from some time after midnight to dawn wasn’t his idea of fun. Then there was navigating the paperwork to set up a brand-new bank account. It didn’t help that he had no experience from Earth to draw from. Upgrading Self-Awareness was also highly unpleasant. After that though, it had been relatively smooth sailing. He’d found what he needed at the tailor’s shop without too much issue, and his subsequent errands had also passed uneventfully. He’d picked up the hunting knives and cloaks from a store run by a wizened old hunter, the harnesses — maybe ‘cuirass’ was the right word? — from a grumpy leather worker, and the boots from an even grumpier cobbler. Everything he was immediately searching for, he’d found. All of that had required him to actively interact with people, which he was quite unused to, but overall it had gone rather well.
Looking at only those events, Cain would be inclined to say his day was sub-optimal. A bad morning followed by a neutral day. And yet, I don’t feel like I would describe my day as sub-optimal. In fact, right now he was rather happy with how his day had gone. He’d been productive, made Magira happy with the dress and hairpin he’d bought, and now got to enjoy a relaxing bath. That… actually sounded like a pretty good day in his book. Huh. Cain had a good day.
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Cain had not had a good day. His chief grievance being, as he discovered upon exiting the bath and redressing in his new clothes, that it was only noon. This was exactly why he hated early mornings; the days always felt impossibly long afterwards. Having not slept at all the night before only exacerbated the problem. Less squinting and more glaring at the harsh midday sunlight streaming in through the window, a disgruntled Cain stepped back into the room and turned towards Magira.
“Hey. We covered the basic stuff yesterday, but we should probably talk some more.”
“Oh, um, alright,” said a mildly startled Magira. She had been observing her new outfit in a standing mirror in the corner of the room.
“This time, I’d like to start by asking you a question.” Cain sat on the floor across from the bed.
“I guess it has mostly been me asking things of you,” acknowledged Magira, sitting down on a vacant spot on the bed. “What do you want to ask?”
“How long does it take for a person’s aspect to cement? I’ve heard that it’s usually difficult to change your mana’s aspect, unless your mana is pure or only recently became aspected.”
“My dad told me it usually takes about three to four days, after that your mana’s aspect is almost impossible to change.”
“Okay then,” Cain said. “I should be nearing the end of my window, then. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Can I ask you something now?” Magira’s omnipresent hesitancy seemed to have diminished somewhat.
“Go ahead.”
“You said you want to end slavery, right?”
“Yep,” Cain nodded.
“How?”