Chapter Sixteen

Boy Was I Wrong

“What?!?” Toot interrobanged. “No, you weren’t a drow!”

“By the god’s, that means I was a demon. An abyssal fiend. The lowest thing in the lower depths. What could be more repugnant than a hell-spawned horror?” Dev moaned.

“Dev, you weren’t a drow or pit fiend. You were a dragon! A dragon.” He dragged the word dragon out like a blade sliding across a giraffe’s neck. “One of the first of your kind. You were nearly as old as the overseers themselves! You had lived for millions of years. You were the size of a small galaxy and on the verge of becoming a god. That is why they chose you! It took them a thousand plus years to get your soul to the point that you could become a core. Believe me, you fought them for every second of that process.”

“I was a dragon?”

“Yes. A huge, overpowered, draconic legend.” Without provocation Toot shook his head. “I cannot tell you who you were, so don’t ask. It could cause major issues with your current status as a core. You are not able to be a core and have more than minimal knowledge of your other-self.” Toot tapped his nose in thought. “Some cores can’t settle down until they know what they were previously. I have to tell them they were an orc, a fish, or a human before they’ll move ahead. But I can’t permit them to know more than cursory information because it can upset the whole core matrix.”

“What do you mean? What can’t you tell us? What would happen if we knew?”

“Knowledge is power, and the creation of a core takes a lot of power. The process is about ripping out things and adding new stuff in. There is no room for the old stuff.” Toot maintained a serious look. “Your core is a delicate balance of magic, mana, instructions, restrictions, and powers only the overseers can control. The longer you exist the more these things settle into a stabilized matrix. In five thousand years a normal core could safely learn all about who or what it used to be.”

“But not me?” Dev said this with certainty, even though he made it sound like a question.

“No, even then the bits of you that remained would overwhelm your core. I would speculate that ten million years wouldn’t be enough time, but I’m just spit-balling.” Toot frowned at the thought of giving his friend bad news.

“What kind of things could be so dangerous? It’s not as if the bits of my soul they excised from me is still out there in the ether is there?” Dev was frightened and exhilarated. He could find out about himself but would die in the process. It was a hard choice.

“Mostly memories. Memories would erase you in seconds, I mean,” he amended. “You would literally just unravel. I panicked the more you tinkered with your name. There are reasons that dungeons have odd naming conventions. The Overseers like to keep them short since most people and things have more than one syllable names. Even a man named Bob will have a surname of some sort.” Toot made his voice sound like a squirrel hyped up on coffee, “Hi, I’m Bob, son of Tor.”

“See, more than one syllable.” The old man sated.

“You suggested Hemi for me.” Toot replied.

“Yes, a short name that tied directly into what you were made of. It would have helped cement the entire healing process for you as a new core. Then you picked Dev, which tied directly to your being deviant. So, I was fine with it. Then,” Toot got a little louder, “You called yourself Devin. Again, it made me nervous but it was still a safe name. It was when you finally settled on Devinadinthrayvicrialborreir that my nonexistent heart stopped. Without any prodding, you gave yourself a name that was utterly and completely identical to a draconic one.” Toot chuckled, “Well, I’ll tell this for nothing; I was glad I didn’t have an arse because I’dve shat myself when that name vaulted your invisible lips and landed in my intangible ears.”

“Are names dangerous for cores then?” Dev could see that while knowledge was power, that not all power was positive.

“Names are the most detrimental thing a core can hear.” The gravity in his words made Dev feel three times heavier than he was.

“Why?”

“Certain things carry memories like barnacles on a ship’s hull; smell is one of those things. Names is another. A name can remind an amnesiac of who they were. Names nestle memories. A memory fragment is dangerous, names carry tidal waves of information. If I told you your name the energy released into your crystalline make-up with cause an explosion that would destroy half of Anoubliette in the fraction of a second.”

“So, if I had any kind of knowledge about myself, even a tiny piece, it would endanger the world?” Dev was stunned.

“You’ve got it,” Toot confirmed.

“Then why would you even tell me I was a dragon?” Dev chastised him.

“There is a difference between knowing what you were and knowing who you were.” Toot waved an arm around, “It was going to drive you crazy. Left to your own devices you might have eventually stumbled onto the truth and that would be the end of everything.” He stopped waving his arm and pointed at the ground, “It was another factor that led me to choose Anoubliette as a world for us to come to.”

“Why is that?” Dev was curious as to how this planet might help keep him in the dark.

“There are no dragons on Anoubliette. They have never heard of Draconis Magnificus, and so they have no legends or lore that you might follow to ascertain your original scaly origin. You can’t find what doesn’t exist.”

“I see.” Dev said grimly, “So if the overseers ever find us, all they would have to do to destroy us would be to tell me something about myself?”

“All they would need to do is say your name.”

“Inconceivable,” Dev said quietly.

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“You know exactly what that word means,” Toot declared, “You should use it more often.”

Dev would have laughed but his spirit had been quelled. He had no idea of how much danger he was in or posed to those around him. The entire scope of the playing field had shifted. He was no longer playing with his life or Toot’s, if he was discovered it would mean the end of all life on Anoubliette. He was keenly aware that such an explosion might kill half of all life on this world instantly, and that the other half would die slowly from the results of the aftermath. He was a poison pill that this world had swallowed and it was only a matter of time before he dissolved into its bloodstream.

“What say you that we focus on things we can work on now, such as your growth, the items you absorbed, leveling up, and the poor constable.”

“Oh,” Dev said brightening, “Let’s bring him back. I didn’t get to know him for long, but he seemed a decent fellow.”

“Quite,” Toot affirmed. “He knew something was amiss but did not arrest me out of hand. He was fair in how he handled things. Technically, I was guilty of killing Rufus, but he made no accusations. He did not even call me a murderer as he died. Most people would blame the suspicious fellow hanging about an empty lot at night without a second thought.”

“I will tell you that his last thought was that he’d fallen prey to a trap set for you. He never once thought ill of you.”

“That surprises me,” Toot said. “I would have thought he’d be certain that I was a stupid criminal in the middle of using a convenient dumpsite. “Oh, not at all. You looked too old and feeble for him to believe that you could have been responsible for the body on the ground. Once you explained who you were he could sense the truth of your words. It was an ability he possessed. He’d built it up to the fifth level. He knows you lied about putting the body in the crevice to hide it, but surmised you’d only thought that so you wouldn’t get into trouble.” Toot listened intently as Dev laid out the basics on what the officer thought in his final moments.

“So, you have full access to his knowledge and skills, then?” Toot’s question prompted Dev to glow a bright green flash in the affirmative, something that took him by surprise. And you are able to use the Funglow bioluminescence as well. Good, making progress in even little areas is beneficial.”

“Yes, let me give you a rundown on the constable.” Dev projected a screen in the air that Toot would be able to see, even though he suspected that the old man already saw everything he did.

The glowing page detailed the man’s name, his occupation, which explained what he did for a living and then gave his class, which explained what types of fields he would learn best from. As a warrior, he was given fighting abilities to draw on as well as other things that would help him survive.

Attributes, Dev knew, were based on four blocks of five points. The first set of five indicating the weak end of the spectrum with the last set of five being the strongest. A baby would have a Strength of 1, and a quadriplegic a Strength of 0. The scale ran from paltry to peak with numbers from 6 to 14 being middle or average ranges. This meant that the constable was well rounded mentally and physically. His appearance/charm, listed as Allure, was at best a mediocre attribute. Dev knew for a fact that the lawman slept peacefully at night and never once worried about his appearance unless it had to do with how it would affect his office.

Name: Trond Guro Age: 34

Profession: Constable Class: Warrior

Attributes

Intellect: 15

Wisdom: 15

Agility: 13

Strength: 14

Physique: 15

Stamina: 15

Appeal: 12

Skills

Blades àLongsword Level 5, Rapier Level 8, Daggers Level 4, Swordstick Level 3

Blunt Instruments à Truncheon Level 5, Black Jack/Sap Level 4, Belaying pin Level 2

Hand to Hand Combat à Street Fighting Level 4, Boxing Level 3, Bar Fighting Level 3

Inductive Reasoning à Level 8

Tracking à Level 5

Intimidation à Level 4

Critical Thinking à Level 4

Attention to Detail à Level 5

Truth Detection à Level 6

Judge of Character à Level 5

The officer had accrued a goodly number of fighting skills. Dev was shocked that there were variations in fighting styles. Street Fighting including techniques such as biting and hitting below the belt. Bar Fighting, on the other hand, included using objects at hand to bludgeon, cut, and smash an opponent. The core opted not to list everything that he had learned from Officer Guro, Toot would have a good idea from this smattering. He just couldn’t see the old man needing to know that Trond had learned to sew by darning his socks at night and had a stitching skill that was in the twenties.

Everything that Trond Guro knew, every skill that he had was his. This meant that Dev could now read and write better; the primer Toot had given him had all the basics but Guro brought so much more to the table.

More importantly, he had a perfectly viable mesh and skin of the man and would be able to rebuild him bigger, faster, and stronger when the need to do so arose. He could build an army of Guros if he wanted. The only thing that Dev couldn’t do was to improve any of the skills that he’d gotten. He could match them, but not exceed them no matter how much mana he fed the skills. His best skill for swords was rapier at level 8. He could make minions whose rapier skills ranged from 1 to 8 but a nine would be impossible until he ate someone with a higher skill. It was frustrating. In order to grow, he had to eat people. He would have to inquire if there were other ways to get skills. He needed to learn magic desperately, but that was for another time. The issue at hand was the revivification of Trond Guro.

“He has some decent skill sets, I’m betting our boy Rufus has some better physical attributes that you’ll be able to use,” Toot said as he looked over the glowing page. “So, what do you think? Are you able to rebuild him?”

“If you mean eventually, then yes without question. I can give him his memory and skills and he would never know anything had ever happened. I erased his encounter with you. You’ll get a fresh start, so don’t abuse it. Remember, he’ll know if you lie.”

“I will tread lightly around him,” Toot promised.

“I could just make a mindless copy of him and operate him remotely like a puppet, but that will take away some of my focus. I’d prefer him independent.” Dev said thoughtfully. “If I tinker with him to make him obedient to us it will take me more time. I don’t have the knowledge of how to do that correctly, and until I do, I’ll have to figure out a way to implant false memories that would make him favor us. A lot of work for little return. That,” Dev said, “Is the good news.”

Toot sighed in exasperation. “I knew things would never be simple when it came to us keeping a low profile. I don’t want to add a missing law enforcement officer to the litany of odd things that have occurred since we arrived. I already have a reputation.”

“So, I’ll duplicate him and send him back out to the wilds, but he’ll always be our simulacrum,” Dev stated plainly.

“Not so,” Toot replied, “In time a dungeon can forge living beings that can sustain themselves outside of its confines. I feel bad enough that he died due to my actions. I’d like to set things right.”

“Right now,” Dev explained, “My options are limited. It is going to cost me about four thousand mana, blood, or fear to get him up and running. If I make any improvements to him it will cost me more.”

“Improve?”

“Yes, that Rufus fellow was stronger and had more agility. A nineteen Strength and an eighteen Agility. I can add to Trond’s numbers without changing him physically, but that will add a greater cost to the production of our constable model. Roughly one hundred energy points to one Attribute point increased. After I have that blueprint it won’t be so costly, but to make those changes now it’ll cost more.” Dev spoke like a cost analyst detailing the most efficient way to produce a product.

“I can see it is time that I earn my money as your companion and teacher,” Toot said. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the way you’ve been using your energy and the ways to maximize everything you do.”

“You mean,” Dev initiated.

“I mean that it’s time to learn about yourself and how to use your energies,” Toot said as he brought up a screen of his own.