“Well, fine," Edwin conceded, "If you had Packing, then you wouldn’t need to have massive cranes, but… well, no, you need trained operators to use them as well, I suppose.”
Edwin stopped to think for a moment, “Well, it’s not like those trained wouldn’t also be able to do other things as well.”
“Packing is likewise an immensely useful Skill," the emperor rebutted, voice calm and measured as always "Surely that Skill is more valuable than any you might obtain as a ‘crane user’?”
“I mean… I guess so, your majesty?” his stress had settled into a sort of meta-stable state where he felt moderately comfortable refuting the emperor, even if he was still incredibly stressed, “But still, you don’t need to be an expert crane driver to do the job. A few days of training is all, which means you don’t need a dedicated person using the crane, but several who can all do the work.”
“But what of the usefulness of Packing? Such a common and useful Skill is one which many would find useful fairly often. Is it not better that they are capable of improving? Furthermore, what of those who dedicated their lives to developing and building these cranes?”
“I mean, if you can have half a dozen people dedicating their lives to doing all the heavy lifting across the world, then sure. But that much work just isn’t possible. It’s just division of labor, but…”
----------------------------------------
“So am I the first to come from Earth?”
“I do not know of the origin of most other Outsiders, though I believe you would be the only from your world, yes. Particularly with the Path you received saying as much. The System would know far better than I do in such matters.”
“Is there any way back?”
“That I simply do not know. History is unclear on what happened to your predecessors in the end. At least one met their end facing down an entire army, though most simply fade from all records after a certain point.”
“What have some of the others accomplished?” he asked. He knew his forerunners had been impressive, but he didn’t know what they did for that level of distinction.
“That is a tricky question, you understand?”
Edwin shrugged helplessly, “Why?”
“It is not always clear what an Outsider has actually accomplished or what is merely attributed to them. In addition, I am aware of at least one who later became conflated with, or perhaps became, a goddess.”
“Oh! I know that one. Sal...Salvierra, right?”
“Salverria, indeed.” He assessed Edwin, “How did you know that?”
“Inion mentioned it, I think.” Edwin shrugged, “Along with an alchemy book I found.”
“Ah, of course. I ought to have expected you would know of the founder of alchemy. Yes, she brought knowledge of potions and magical materials to Joriah, overturning much of what was believed to be known about magic. Or would that be science?”
“Not… not sure, actually. Probably magic, though? Your majesty.”
“Hmm. It showed that external magics could be harnessed, even if personal spells and the like remain the dominion of birth. You claim to have not had mana previously?”
“No, your majesty. I do believe I obtained the ability to use magic after I arrived on Joriah. I do think that others should be able to learn it.”
“Unlikely. Such things have been tried previously. It is most probable that the traveling imbued you with such magics.”
“Well, I still think it was just being exposed to a lot of mana at once that let me get a magical Skill, and I just went from there?”
“Such things have been attempted in the past and have failed.”
Hmm. He should ask to see the experiment logs at some point and find out if they made a fundamental error in their testing methodology. It wouldn’t surprise him, but that wasn’t what he needed to focus on right now.
“So, Salverria?”
“Of course. There was also Elthis, the creator of Vis’Daric and its gozau, the unnamed Warrior of Koraith, the first druid Tasthen who is said to have created the weather itself, the enchanter Resslian, though it must be said it is unknown if Resslian is merely another name or title for Salvierra, then further unnamed individuals responsible for the World Tear, The Destiny Weaver, and more besides. At some point, rumor, myth, and history all collide and it is impossible to tell reality from fiction.”
“They all left pretty big marks though, didn’t they?”
“Every last one. This is why it was important enough that I personally assess that you are not a threat to Liras.”
Edwin nodded silently, the eternal dread of expectations looming heavy over his head. How was he ever supposed to compare to those cultural giants? They might as well have been gods, though they had the benefit of exaggeration on their side. There was no way Tasthen managed to create the weather. That was just ludicrous. The others, though?
“What’s Vis’Daric?”
“It is a wandering city-state which frequently flies over imperial lands and the rest of the world, populated by the gozau, men of metal, wood, and glass no less intelligent for the fact. They are the premier location for newly created magical artifacts of any complexity.”
“How old is this place?”
“Its age was already lost to time back when I first hatched.”
Edwin let out a low whistle. A flying city-state founded in the mists of prehistory that still survived to this day, populated primarily by sapient automata? Vis’Daric immediately shot onto Edwin’s list of places to visit, and he made a bunch of Almanac notes to look into how to reach the floating citadel once he had a chance.
“How many outsiders do you think there have been?”
“I truly have no idea. At minimum, a dozen, with even more whose names are lost, blown by the breeze of time.”
“They all accomplished so much, though.”
“Much of which is still felt to this day, yes.
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“So,” Xares finally asked the question Edwin had been dreading, and he wasn’t sure if he had an adequate reply, “What will you do?”
“I want to change the world,” he lamely admitted, “Not that that’s an informative goal. I suppose… My world’s strength wasn’t in magic or in flying cities, or whatever else my predecessors had experience in.
“I don’t have whatever they did. But what I do have is a Skill that lets me write down my knowledge and experience in a way that maybe one day anyone could access, and I want to share that knowledge with whoever it might help. I can bring science, I suppose. And science is big. It’s really big. That saying I was talking about? ‘If I have seen farther, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants?’
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“Yeah, I don’t know that I can be the person standing atop the giants. There’s just too much I don’t know about the laws of this new world, too many enormous things to explore and figure out the fundamentals of. I won’t be the seer, but hopefully I can at least be the giant, empowering those who come after me to see farther and farther than I ever could.”
“An interestingly honest answer. Best of luck to you in that endeavor.”
“Wait, just like that? You’re not going to try to take me and use my knowledge to revolutionize your empire, or drop me in a lab and try to learn things for you?”
“No. You are too much of an unknown, and as you admit yourself, you have no particular expertise I can capitalize upon. Any funding I have towards alchemy is better suited for high-Tier alchemists already of the empire. Their Skills are more useful than yours in any regard which matters.
“You may be an Outsider, and thus far more likely to be of use than another Adventurer, but you remain an Outsider, and attempting to corral you or contain you will inevitably end poorly. Indeed, simply being near you is liable to be hazardous to any facilities you might utilize. Best to keep you far, far away from anything critical, which might suffer under the strain of a ‘scientific revolution.’”
Ouch.
“Well, what about research? I have a unique take on things, I might find something totally new!”
“If you do, I am certain I will learn of it in time. You just told me your goal is to make everything you learn public knowledge, no?”
“But...” Edwin’s newfound dreams of fabulous wealth working for the empire vanished in an instant before they could even fully form, “I can ensure you’d learn about them sooner?” he tried.
“What care have I for such a discovery to come a decade earlier? It would still arrive in due time. And as I am certain you will not allow all your unique knowledge and training to die alongside you, so even if you do not find all you might under sponsorship, your apprentices might, or the next generation of alchemists, taught the knowledge you have brought with you from Earth.” The emperor forestalled Edwin’s next rebuttal before he could even open his mouth.
“Could I at least get… oh, I don’t know, a cart or a carriage or something? Just something that I can use in my travels as a bit of a portable lab and way to carry around my stuff somewhere other than on my back. I’d be willing to not hold that,” Edwin waved his hand in a vague indication of the mess with the governor, “against the Empire as a whole in exchange for something like that.”
The emperor gave a curt nod, scarcely even stopping to think before agreeing, “I will assign the cost of such as partial reparations for Soraia. You shall have your carriage.”
Huh. He… hadn’t actually expected that to work. Score! And so easily, too! The tight ball of stress wound up in his chest began to loosen, if Xares was so readily willing to help him out…
…Then he promptly realized all the other possible things he might have been able to ask for- Adventurer status for Inion, maybe a house or something, some decent gear, or alchemy ingredients, Skill training, access to the Grand Library…
Edwin silently sighed.
No wonder the emperor had been so quick to agree. And if the governor would be the one to provide the cart, it probably wouldn’t be that high quality as she tried to spite him or wiggle out of her obligations… he’d totally just screwed himself out of something potentially great, hadn’t he?
Even as his stress rebounded, now strengthened by Edwin’s own annoyance at himself and forming a tight knot in his stomach, Edwin forced himself to give a nod in thanks, “Thank you, your majesty,” He forced out. It wouldn’t do to start badmouthing the source of his pressure just because he messed up. This was entirely his own fault, he’d own it.
To be fair, it was still more than he had anticipated to get out of the meeting with the governor. He’d expected a boring hour or two of being prodded at, then being sent on his way. It may have ended up being far more stressful than he had initially anticipated, but he also got more out of it in turn, so… it broke even at worst.
He found it difficult to blame the emperor for any of the recent revelations, honestly, though he suspected that was a Skill of some sort at play. Or maybe that was just sheer charisma and millennia of practice with diplomacy. Blinking Skillful Assessment on still just overwhelmed him with a uniform, monolithic wave of Skill light, so he had no help from it in this case. Would there really even be a difference between supernaturally good diplomacy and centuries of experience?
His thoughts notwithstanding, their time was clearly coming to a close, and Edwin floated to his feet, giving another deep nod/shallow bow to the emperor in farewell
“Very good speaking with you, Edwin. Best of luck in your endeavors,” the avior assured him, and Edwin almost felt like he was being pulled into a desire to prove himself worthy of the Emperor. He nodded wordlessly, doing his best to distract himself with something until the Skill effect faded.
He didn’t like people messing with his mind with Skills, but some part of Edwin told him that it wasn’t that different from just using words to try and convince him of something. Did that mean that he was… spiritually gullible or something? Skill-ly gullible didn’t sound right. Emotionally gullible? Eh, spiritually gullible worked. In a world where emotion-altering effects were objectively commonplace, did that make them any less moral than simply being good with your words? Were kids taught as they grew up not only how to be skeptical of words being said, but also how to avoid acting out on unnatural emotions being shoved onto you?
It was… oh hey, the Skill had subsided. Edwin mentally reviewed what Memory told him the emperor had said as the surroundings began to darken ever so slightly.
“I will return you to the gates of Rhothos’ garrison such that you are hopefully able to avoid the attention of the full court. I will pass the instructions for you to receive a carriage to the governor, and you shall hopefully receive such within a reasonable amount of time.
“I expect I will be hearing much more of you in the next few decades, and I eagerly anticipate it.”
Edwin gave out one last hasty thanks as the gray clouds around him thickened, enveloping him entirely and obscuring his vision as his surroundings blurred and faded away. For a brief moment, he felt utterly weightless and immaterial, like a cloud floating on a breeze, then reality returned and he crashed into the ground under the peak of the garrison’s entry archway. Edwin barely caught himself with Flight, and even then he only had time to soften his landing, rather than blunt it completely.
There was some form of commotion going on inside the building, giving Edwin the perfect opportunity to slip away. This time, he didn’t get lost on his way to the Golden Grain, no matter how nervous he may have been. As he walked, Edwin felt his emotions get rowdier and rowdier, trying to break free of their bindings and overwhelm him. He’d been on an emotional knife's-edge for hours, and it was starting to wear at him.
Nope, not starting. It was seriously wearing on him, and was unraveling the ball of stress he’d shoved to the side while talking to the emperor. He quickened his pace, trying to get back to his room, where it was quiet and where it was safe. Most importantly, where there weren’t any other people. Edwin’s fingers grew jittery and he enabled Longstrider, nearly crashing into a few people and actually running into a few obstacles in his staggering gait. His breath grew ragged as he got back to the Golden Grain, and his hands were shaking as he opened the door.
The interior of the inn was busier now, as more patrons had come in for dinner, and the raucous laughter slammed into Edwin’s skull like so many jackhammers. He rushed upstairs, only recognizing the innkeeper’s wave of greetings after it was too late to act upon it, and tried to open his room door.
Naturally, it didn’t work, and Edwin fumbled for his key, withdrawing it from one of his pouches. He went to unlock the door, and bit back a curse when he realized the lock jam from Apparatus was still active, for better and for worse.
It took him far too long, but he eventually managed to flip his head into the right space to cancel that manifestation of the Skill (and the ring he wore made of the same stuff at the same time), got the key in the lock, and burst inside.
He scarcely managed to close the door behind him, let alone lock it, and Edwin was a jittery, emotional wreck by the time he collapsed onto his bed. His hands were shaking to the point he couldn’t even tell how bad his fingers were trembling, and he couldn’t lift so much as his own pillow.
At least the noise from below was essentially gone. Though not gone enough. There were still faint echoes of yelling and singing clawing their way through the sound-dampening Skill and to his ears, raking across his eardrums. His blanket was so itchy, tiny bits of wool digging into his skin and overwhelming him. Turning off Perception did nothing, and directing all his attention to his smell just made the stench of cedar splinter into his mind. Taste was little better, stale air and wet wool nearly causing him to gag as his mind searched for solace there.
He sought any kind of escape. He needed to sink into unconsciousness, to get away from the suddenly so loud and disturbing world, which had finally abandoned all pretense and was now directly attempting to get him. No more was it trying to go through intermediaries, it had found out how to assault his senses and drive him mad directly. Adaptive Defense did nothing against this vicious attack, and he fruitlessly tried to escape his torment, scrabbling at his Skills but finding no purchase.
He needed to use Sleeping, but his mind refused to flex the mental muscles required to activate the Skill. He needed his sleeping potion, but even his own Memory was betraying him as it refused to tell him where the life-saving medicine could be found.
Another burst of noise from below brought him to clench his ears even tighter, desperately trying something- anything- to escape the awful cacophony that defined his very existence.
When Edwin did eventually sleep, it was to the sound of his own whimpers.