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The Quickening

He stared at her hand dully, before finally, begrudgingly, reaching out. It’s not like I really have a choice. The interface promptly sprang up before him.

Jasper Welles (52)

Level up available: x7

Exp: 575/3000

Health 1200

Stamina 1720

Essence 2040

Heritage(s)

Greater Djinn

Class(es)

Acolyte of the Secret Flame

Titles

The Blood Runs True

Betrothed of Kas̆dael

Survivor

Stats

Racial Traits

Class Abilities

Weapon Skills

Strength 30

Born of Flames

Sacred Star II

Improvised Weaponry I

Endurance 40

Uplifted

Purge

Sling V

Vision 20

Locked

Eternal Night II

Glaive V

Inspiration 53

Locked

Fiery Shackles II

Dagger III

Willpower 53

Seraph Burst

Charisma 20

Heart Stopper (Undead)

He had picked up a few new levels but decided to scan through the class description for the Inquisitor-type class first.

Hand of Kas̆dael

(Subclass)

Level 1

Chosen to carry out the will of Kas̆dael, her Hand wields the scourge of despair and the purging fire against her enemies. As a divinely granted subclass, the class only levels by completing missions for the goddess or slaying the wicked.

As an Inquisitor-type class, you gain 50% resistance to fire damage and inquisitor spells deal 50% more fire damage to the wicked.

He frowned when he saw “level 1” below the class. Leveling up an entire other class sounded like a pain; on the other hand, if he still gained stat points from the new class, it could end up a significant power boost. The rather vague description didn’t tell him anything new, but his pulse quickened in excitement as he realized he had gained three new spells.

The Scales of Justice

100 essence per minute

As long as the spell is active, draw upon divine wisdom to discern between the truth and lies. Let none deceive you.

Scourge of Despair

300 essence

Remind your foes of their sins. Lash out with a holy flail. If attack comes into contact with a foe, the spell summons three ghosts for 15 seconds.

Hand of Judgment

3000 Essence

Once per month, the Hand of Kas̆dael may summon an Ophan of Kas̆dael to his aid. Summon lasts until either it or the foe is defeated.

The Scales of Justice was, to be honest, not especially exciting, but he wasn’t blind to its usefulness. Utility spells had their place, and he supposed the job of an inquisitor probably involved, at least in part, some detective work, so he couldn’t complain.

Scourge of Despair, on the other hand, was just downright cool. Summoning three ghosts to attack his enemies? Hell, yeah.

But it was the third entry that drew his attention. At a cost of 3000 essence, he couldn’t even cast it yet, but between the high cost and its limited usage, Jasper figured it had to be an impressive spell. He didn’t know what an Ophan was, but, hopefully, it was appropriately badass.

He still had seven levels worth of points to assign. Jasper did some quick math in his head. If he dumped all twenty-one points into willpower and inspiration he’d still…come up short. Damn it. I’d be at 2880 essence, still not enough to cast the Hand of Judgment. He hesitated. With one more level, he'd have enough stat points to get him up to 3000 essence, which was extremely tempting. But if he cast the spell when he only had 3000 essence total, he would be left completely vulnerable afterward. I’m going to need a lot more than 3000 before I can really use this spell, he glumly admitted to himself.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

In the end, he decided to split the points evenly between willpower, inspiration, and endurance. As he drew closer to the class change at level 100, he didn’t want to let endurance lag too far behind - he would almost certainly pick up some stamina-based spells then.

Jasper scanned his new abilities one last time.

Jasper Welles

Exp: 575/3000

Health 1340

Stamina 2140

Essence 2600

Heritage(s)

Greater Djinn

Acolyte of the Secret Flame

Level: 59

Hand of Kas̆dael

Level: 1

Titles

The Blood Runs True

Betrothed of Kas̆dael

Survivor

Stats

Racial Traits

Class Abilities

Class Abilities

Weapon Skills

Strength 30

Born of Flames

Sacred Star II

Scales of Justice

Improvised Weaponry I

Endurance 47

Uplifted

Purge

Scourge of Despair

Sling V

Vision 20

Locked

Eternal Night II

Hand of Judgment

Glaive V

Inspiration 60

Locked

Fiery Shackles II

Dagger III

Willpower 60

Seraph Burst

Charisma 20

Heart Stopper (Undead)

Not too bad for a few months, he mused. He closed the interface reluctantly, not quite ready to face what he knew was coming. But as he turned away, a new notification popped up.

Resonance Detected

A resonance has been detected between the racial trait Born of Flames, and the classes Acolyte of the Secret Flame and Hand of Kas̆dael. As the combined fire resistance has exceeded 100%, the racial trait has been upgraded.

Born of Flames → Scion of Flame

The Great Djinn were birthed in the fires of creation, but you have exceeded your kin. Refined by the Progenitor’s flames, you possess full immunity from fire damage and a 20% bonus to fire attacks.

Jasper barely had time to finish reading the update when he felt something slip - no, drip - off his arm onto the ground. He stared in confusion at the strange blob on the ground. What the hell? Another blob slithered down his body, splattering on the ground beside the first, and he realized it was coming from him. As he turned his horrified eyes onto his body, more skin sloughed off his arm. He screamed as his skin partially liquefied and rained of his body until, at last, he was completely denuded. He stood in front of the fire, trembling, a quivering mass of muscles and nerves, his eyes wide with terror.

And then the skin grew back. There had been a curious absence of pain when his skin sloughed off, but as it regrew, pain ripped through his body as the nerves were reconnected.

He fell to his knees, panting, digging his fingers deep into the dirt. When the pain finally subsided, he held a shaking hand up, examining his new flesh in the flickering light of the fire.

He gently ran a finger along the edge of his hand, expecting the skin to be still raw and sensitive, but no tingles of pain ran down his arm. The skin felt a bit leathery, definitely not as soft and supple as before, but he barely noticed that change as he fixated on another: his new skin had a light reddish hue to it. Thankfully, it wasn’t a gaudy red, like you’d see in an illustration of a demon from medieval times, but more like he had gotten a light sunburn everywhere. Even down there, he realized.

He shuddered a little at the thought of being perpetually red, but he remembered what the prompt had said. Full fire immunity. His eyes were irresistibly drawn to the fire. After a moment's hesitation, Jasper thrust his hand forward, plunging into the flames before he had time to talk himself out of it. Might as well test it out. A gentle warmth spread through his hand, but no pain followed in its wake. When he withdrew his hand he saw that it remained wholly unblemished.

“Are you done playing?”

Kas̆dael’s words startled him. Dropping his hand back in his lap, Jasper turned back to her. “Is my, uh,” he rubbed the palm of his hand vigorously, as if he could scrub the color off, “is my skin stuck like this?”

She nodded her head. “Yes, I’m afraid it’s a permanent change, but don’t worry. Once this Als̆arratu debacle has been concluded, I plan to send you south into the Harei Miqlat. Your skin won’t seem unusual at all there as most Djinn eventually reach fire immunity.”

A flicker of amusement flashed through her eyes. “In fact, I think you’ll find that it makes you rather fetching in the eyes of their maidens. It is rare for someone as young as you to have already reached fire immunity and, as they say, power attracts.”

He opened his mouth, another question on the tip of his tongue, but she shook her head. “I know you have many questions, but now is not the time to tarry. The world outside marches on without you; it is time to return to your body. Deal with the queen, and when she is dead, visit me before you enter the mountains.”

There was a tone to her words that brooked no dissent, and he swallowed his questions reluctantly. Kas̆dael extended her arm to him. He flinched, knowing what was coming. The fear of pain overwhelming her commanding tone, Jasper decided to press the issue. “May I ask one last question?” Jasper hurried on, not giving her time to say no. “Why the heart?”

She hesitated for a moment, and he feared she would not reply. But, after a pause, she spoke. “You can thank whoever originally summoned you for that. When a bond is formed between a deity and their follower, a bond mark is established. Usually, the mark is placed on the hands or head, although, some of the more 'lusty' deities place them," she paused, smirking, "well, you can guess where. But when I snatched you away from them, you already had an incomplete bond mark on your heart. Once a bond mark has been established, a second can't be placed, so I was forced to use it.”

Kas̆dael shrugged her shoulders. “Perhaps its placement on your heart was a mistake, perhaps there was a more sinister intention behind the placement, but either way it is most unfortunate for you.”

She beckoned him over. “I’m sorry, but you know what must happen.”

Closing his eyes, he grabbed her hand.

----------------------------------------

He awoke with a scream. Soft pillows cushioned his form, and his arms were cradled in a plush, velvety covering. He was in bed.

Jasper’s eyes swept across the room, taking in the soft sunlight that filtered through the open windows. A gust of cool air blew through the window, gently kissing his cheek as a lark sang outside. I’m in the Sanctum, he realized.

He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled out into the common area. “Hello?”

The house was silent, and he found himself grabbing hold of the couch for dear life as his legs buckled beneath him. With shaky arms, he pulled himself onto the couch. What the hell is wrong with me? As he asked the question, he remembered Rashpa’s wan face after her resurrection. Oh, yeah. Probably not really supposed to be walking around much yet.

He sat there for a time, mustering his strength. The house was empty, but from the peaceful sounds outside the cottage, it was clear that the Sanctum, at least, was still secure. Did the city hold? He winced as he remembered his foolish actions at the wall. What was I thinking? ‘I am a god?’ He flushed with embarrassment. More like an idiot.

Feeling a bit of his strength return, he scooched along the couch towards the wall. Supporting himself on the couch, he lurched over to the wall, pressing the panel to call the guild. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

The room fell silent. He pressed the button again. “Hello?”

A moment later, it flared to life. “Sorry, operations are a bit of a mess right now. May I ask who’s calling?”

His throat itched as he spoke his name. “Jasper. Jasper Welles.”

There was a momentary pause, before the operator started talking excitedly. “Jasper Welles - our records indicate you were deceased. I take it you were resurrected then?”

Jasper stared dumbly. “Uh, I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

The operator ignored his snide words. “Guilder Welles, please remain in your cottage. Resurrection is a taxing process, and there’s no need for you to overexert yourself. I’ll be sure to notify your partner as quickly as possible of your return.”

Jasper sighed in relief. “So she’s alive - thank Selene. Does the city still stand?”

A few moments ticked by in silence before the operator replied. “I’m sorry Guilder Welles but I don’t have time to fill you in on the situation right now. Your partner will join you as soon as possible and can give you the details. For now, you should lie down and rest.” The speaker fell silent, and Jasper turned away.

The couched beckoned to him like a long-lost lover, but he ignored its embrace. He slowly dragged himself through the room, stopping often to gather his strength. Eventually, he reached his goal, the bathroom. The face of a stranger stared back at him. His skin still glowed a light red, but his cheeks were drawn and haggard. Deep bags lay under his eyes, and a weariness born of more than just exhaustion haunted them.

But his eyes quickly passed over those details, zeroing in on another. A large scar ran across the middle of his neck. What the hell? He probed the lumpy skin, following it around the back. The scar goes around my entire neck. What happened to me? He eyed the scar with distaste, but there was little to be done about it now. Maybe a healer could fix it.

Finally satisfied, he dragged himself back to bed and lay down to wait on Ihra's return. He felt his eyelids begin to droop, and he tried to force them open. Got to stay awake.

He succumbed to sleep instantly.