Reluctantly, Jasper left the two behind as he headed down the narrow path that wound its way to the shrine in the lake.
By the time he reached the first bridge, he had already gathered that it was no simple garden. The air was suffused with a lingering sensation, with the heavy sense that something watched his every move. The feeling only grew as he took the first step onto the bridge. As one, the birds fell silent, their heads craning to follow him as he trekked up the spine of the bridge.
His footsteps dragged as he neared the top. There was no there - at least no one that could be seen - but a deep, primal corner of his mind screamed at him that something stood in his path. Plucking up his courage, he pushed through the top. The air there was as cold as the frozen mountaintops, and a feeling of electricity ran up and down his armors, but the unseen being let him pass unhindered. He didn't look back as he scrambled down the far side of the bridge.
As soon as his foot hit the ground again, the hundreds of eyes that prickled at his back disappeared and the birds begin to sing again. But each time he crossed one of the bridges, they fell silent, and each time he had to pass through the cold.
He let out a sigh of relief when he left the last of the eleven bridges behind, and ventured out onto the sands that stretched along the shores of Yarhab. The comfortable cool of the shady trees disappeared, replaced by the nearly blinding rays of the sun, but the steady, salty wind off the lake drove away the worst of the heat.
The shrine was built further into the lake than Jasper had realized, although he could tell from the pale blue water surrounding it, which stood out in stark contrast to the dark blue of the depths beyond, that the shallows extended a fair way out.
One more bridge remained, but quite unlike the rest. Indeed, it was barely a bridge at all, an almost haphazard collection of rope and planks that swayed precariously in the wind. Each plank was separated by a gulf of empty space, near ten or more feet in length, and he was forced to leap his way across. The difficulty wasn't in making the leap - his newfound strength was more than enough to launch him across the space; the trick was in successfully landing on the small plank of wood swaying in the wind without overshooting it and landing in the lake. As it was, he ended up taking more than one impromptu bath before he finally pulled himself up into the shrine, victorious.
His victory was short-lived though. An overwhelming pressure washed over him, forcing him to his knees on the hard stone. The pressure probed his mind, pain lancing through his skull. Blood trickled out his eyes and ears, but he was utterly unable to move or resist. Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the presence withdrew and he was left alone again.
Picking himself up shakily, he wiped away the blood, glancing around the small shrine futilely for any sign of his attacker. But he wasn't surprised to see that he was alone. The ancient shrine was a simple affair, a single, small room bereft of any furniture save for its altars. Built from a luminous white stone, whose blocks were so weathered that the images that covered them were almost lost to the pages of time, the shrine was only enclosed on three sides. The fourth lay open, looking out over the expanse of the great lake. The floor only rose a few feet above the lapping waves, whose consistent thumps against its foundation echoed noisily in the empty shrine.
Now that the pressure was gone, a deep sense of peace pervaded him. Taking a deep breath, Jasper sat down and, closing his eyes reached for the void. I am the river…. The images sprung to life around him almost immediately, far more vivid, far more real than ever before, and then he was in the void.
The temple of S̆uhruru was awash with light as he opened his eyes. He found himself not in Kas̆dael's throne room, but rather in the giant rotunda he had seen once before. The ceilings’ distant arches were still cloaked in the familiar gloom of her home, but the lower level was a riot of light as the glow from a thousand candles danced and swayed across the lower walls of the chamber.
No longer obscured in darkness, Jasper was surprised to see the floor was covered with tender sprouts of grass, whose spiraled curls thrust through the dark paving stones with stubborn defiance - the first signs of life he had seen in her domain. He bent down, running a tentative finger down their blades. Things are changing here, he realized.
But he wasn't here to look at grass. With a sigh, Jasper stood up and surveyed the giant chamber. There was no sign of Kas̆dael, but a path of lights led deeper into the temple. He followed them through the silent halls, the lights leading him further and further away from the throne room.
The candles did not lead him astray, though. Eventually, the hall opened out onto a terraced pavilion. Jasper braced himself as he prepared to step outside of the temple, remembering all too keenly the bitter, unyielding cold of the void outside. And indeed, the moment his foot crossed the threshold, the very blood in his veins would have frozen over, if not for the fires that burned deep within him. But the air was not quite as cold as he remembered. Another change?
The pavilion ran up to the edge of the chasm that sat between the temple and the city below. A low stone balustrade ran along the rim and there, perched on top of the ledge sat Kas̆dael. He approached the edge cautiously, a deep feeling of nausea rising up from the pit of his stomach when he glanced over the edge into the unfathomable depths below. A fair distance away he could see the faint outline of the bridge dangling above the heights and beyond it, but it was what he saw beyond it that truly arrested his attention.
Most of the abandoned city still sat in darkness, but scattered throughout were a handful of lights, the lights dimmed as if they were peaking through gathered curtains. He paused a few feet away from her, watching the scene in silence, while he waited for Kas̆dael to acknowledge him.
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He did not know how long he waited, but eventually, she turned to face him. “So you finally reached a hundred.” Her tone was inscrutable, her face mostly hidden beneath the veil, but he flashed her a cheeky grin nonetheless.
“I certainly hope so. I would be pretty disappointed to come all this way only to discover I stalled out on level 99.”
His words earned him a faint smile. "Surely having the personal attention of your goddess is always worth the trip." He didn't dare say no, simply nodding, albeit unconvincingly. Shaking her head, Kas̆dael patted the stone ledge beside her. “Well, there's no need to worry; you did indeed reach a hundred. Come, sit.”
Rather unwillingly, he followed her command, moving forward the last few feet to reach the balustrade that she sat on top of, and, doing his very best not to look down, hopped up beside her.
Immediately, a fierce gust of wind roared up from the void, wrapping its tendrils around his chest. His arms windmilled as Jasper tried fought to regain his balance, but the wind pulled him from the ledge. But Kas̆dael reacted just as quickly; her hand snatched the edge of his cloak before he was dragged into the depths and yanked him back to safety, plopping him on the balustrade beside her.
She glared out into the darkness, muttering a few words beneath her breath, and something responded, as a hideous shriek rent the air. But the wind ceased. Kas̆dael turned back to him with a rueful smile. “Sometimes the lemuttakāla get a little hungry when mortals come to visit,” she said.
"Oh, well that explains everything," he quipped back with false confidence, but the shaking in his voice gave him away. "Damn lemutta-somethings."
Kas̆dael rolled her eyes. “They're a spirit of the void, eager to consume the flesh of the living. You encountered one of them when you crossed the bridge, remember?”
He didn't need to be reminded of the specters that had haunted him at the bridge. "Yeah, I remember," he responded flatly. “Can we uh, can we sit somewhere else, somewhere without dizzying heights and hungry ghosts?” He asked, hopefully.
The goddess just laughed. “No need to fear, Jasper. There are few indeed with the might steal what's mine from my grasp. Now,” she said, grabbing his hand, “Shall we see what paths lie before you?”
Accepting her hand, he waited on pins and needles for the screen to appear. More than one notification awaited his attention, but he ignored all but one, immediately focusing on the one whose special borders told him what lay inside.
He hesitated just a second before clicking on it, half afraid of what he was going to see. What if he got stuck with a bunch of bad options? Or worse, what if the system’s level-up options deviated from what he remembered of the game? But there was no point in waiting any longer. He selected it.
The First Step
Rewards: class evolution, skill exchange (optional), racial trait exchange (optional)
You have reached the first of ten possible class evolutions. Potential evolutions are offered to you on the basis of your initial class, your deeds, and your deity(ies). The system guarantees you a minimum of one (1) option, even if your actions have invalidated your original class, but more will likely be available.
Please pay careful attention to the stats provided by each class. You will be refunded any lost stat points if you choose a class that lacks a previously unlocked stat, but associated skills may be lost if equivalent skills cannot be found as substitutes.
Jasper’s concerns eased a bit as he read through the notification. It was largely what he had expected, with one minor difference. The game, wishing to provide players with as flexible of an experience as possible and not wanting them to get bored, had given players the ability to completely reassign their stats, in case they wanted to take their character in a different direction.
That didn’t seem to be the case here, though. It looked like he would only have the option to reassign his stats if he chose a class that, for instance, lacked Inspiration - not that he could see that happening. There was no way he was giving up his primary magic stat.
Satisfied he had understood the rules, Jasper scrolled down to the first of his options.
Guardian of the Secret Flame - Wielding fire and steel, the Guardian of the Secret Flame is well-equipped to scour his enemies from the face of the earth. Similar to the Firebirds of the southern clans, the class is a heavy-cavalry, mage-warrior hybrid. This class provides exceptional mobility and defense, but essence usage will be more oriented toward physical transformations than spells. The class receives a 20% buff to strength and endurance when fighting alongside other Guardians and a 30% bonus to the damage of lances, glaives, and maces.
Note: All current spells and bonuses may be retained, and three new spells or skills will be selected.
Unlocked Stats - Strength, Endurance, Vision, Inspiration, Willpower, Charisma
Jasper frowned as he read the second sentence. “Essence-usage will be more oriented towards physical transformations than spells”? Is it some sort of shapeshifting class? He glanced up at Kas̆dael. “Anything further you can tell me about this class?” he asked hopefully. “I don’t even know what a ‘Firebird’ is, so the description doesn’t help me that much.”
Kas̆dael clucked her tongue in mock disapproval, but her eyes sparkled with a touch of amusement. “How can you not know of the pride and joy of the southern clans? The clans would be outraged if they knew any royal was so ignorant of their power.”
Jasper rolled his eyes. “Well, maybe if the Djinn were playable in the game I would know something about them, but they weren’t. So are you going to tell me anything helpful or not?”
She laughed. “Very well. Firebirds ride tsussîm rather than horses, and they are famed for their ability to set both themselves and their mounts on fire. Although they are capable of learning spells, their skills are usually more oriented towards using essence and stamina to enhance their capabilities - temporarily boosting their strength, toughening their skin, healing wounds.” So, not a shapeshifting class he thought as she paused. “The Guardian sounds like an excellent class, but I suspect it’s intended to be used used as part of a military unit, so if you continue traveling in a small party, it is probably not the right choice for you.”
Jasper nodded gratefully. “Thanks. On to the next one, then.”