Name:
Channeling Staff of Growth
Owner:
Darwin Dulcet
Type:
Catalyst; Quarterstaff
Rank:
Growth (Rare)
The more Merga talked about the staff, the more I was baffled at what she ended up picking for me: How could it be possible that this was supposed to be mine when I hadn’t even been enrolled as an [Adventurer] yet?
This made no freaking sense.
But I wasn’t one to look at a gifted horse in the mouth… actually, I was exactly that type of person.
“How much do I owe you, or the [Guild], for giving me something so… grand?” There was no sign of weariness in my tone, only resignation, since there was no chance in hell that I was going to refuse it.
“Consider it as part of the compensation for getting [Transferred], the only thing you owe us is just a bit of gratitude”, she said mirthlessly, for the first time since meeting her; her response was almost sounded like a reprimand, but her smile (and my [Aura]) told me that she wasn’t really angry at me being diffident.
“You’re right, I also realized that I haven’t thanked any of you since you started teaching me, and for that, I apologize. So… thank you for putting up with me?” I was never good at being honest towards others, especially when the other person didn’t seem to take me seriously.
“Oh, don’t you start now: The normally volatile and irascible you is much more fun to hang around with than this ‘thing’ you’re trying to do.” Her words were pretty brutal, and since they ruffled my feathers I guess they succeeded in their intent: Getting me to act like my old self.
“I honestly thought that she would appreciate this bit of ‘character development’ of mine a little more than that.”
“Ok, now that’s over: Lunch?” She continued.
It was then that I realized I had been studying uninterruptedly for hours, barely finishing the books she had left me with in time for her return.
“Sure, I could go for lunch.”
Mental exertion always did leave me a bit peckish.
* * *
We ate some sort of sirloin steak that had been left to sizzle in a pan with blueish onions, and that had then been drizzled with honey. I didn’t [Inspect] any of the ingredients, nor the finished meal, since I didn’t want to spoil the heavenly aroma I was getting from my plate, and I was pleased to discover that it tasted even better than it smelled.
I and Merga separated after she had guided me to the room where I would properly meet with the last of my [Teachers], Skortch.
Of course, before she actually got going, she had to ruffle the hairs on my head with both her hands, which didn’t catch me by surprise, thanks to my [Aura], but I still let her since I could ‘feel’ that there were no ill intentions behind her gesture.
And I also wanted to make progress on my self-promise to ‘become better’.
For a few moments, I stared at her retreating back, forcing myself to not look at her ass, until I succeeded in moving my gaze to the point where I was finally looking back at the unadorned door where she had left me in front of. It was weird: until now every door seemed to match the interior of the room it belonged to, but this only seemed to be slightly darker than the surrounding wood…”Wait, are those scorch marks?”.
The door suddenly opened, but my [Detection] had caught the movement inside so it didn’t startle me. What it did do was put me in front of the wiry red Nymph, who proceeded to casually pat into submission a small fire on his shoulder.
“Ah! You’re here already, that’s great! Let’s get started immediately then!” His exuberance was also matched by his actions, where he grabbed me by the front of my cloak and dragged me inside.
“Why do people here seem rather fond of dragging me around?”
Those outside were, indeed, scorch marks, evident by the plethora of soot and burn residue from all around the room; that, coupled with the fire that I saw on him, and his ‘fiery’ personality, reminded me of what Grog had told me: that ‘my sharp tongue would someday get me burnt’.
“Was that a not-so-subtle hint that I should be careful around this guy?”
Probably.
So, it would be a good idea to not do anything rash, or impolite, in his presence.
“Good call”. Mentally, I started wondering when me and [Buddy] had gotten so in tune with one another.
He stopped pulling me when we reached the center of the room, which was suspiciously devoid of furniture, except for a small cabin in a corner and what looked like the remains of a camp-fire in the middle of the room… and it was also worth noting that the position of this room made it so it was to the very back of the [Guild], evident by the fact that the [Arena] was visible from the only window in the room.
“What do you know about survival?” Suddenly asked the red-skinned man.
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That question was so outside of the realm of what I expected him to say that it made my brain stop working properly for a moment.
Seeing it as a sign of indecision, he just kept going, “it doesn’t matter, here, with me, you’re going to learn how to repel and hunt wild beasts, to cook anything you can get your hands on, and how to properly care for your equipment”.
“That’s… fine. But I was expecting something that needed more [Fire] from you”, the words, once again, exited my mouth before I could think of the repercussion.
Thankfully, his only reaction was to bend backward and laugh uproariously. “Ahahahahah! You’re killing me, rookie! Like I would unleash my [Explosions] upon you on the first day. Who do you think I am, Grog!?”
I kind of felt bad for Grog, since he seemed to be some sort of punching bag for this group, but I knew that it must have all been done in good humor.
“No, no, we learn the basics today, just like you should have done yesterday: Although I admit that my colleagues can be a bit…”
“Nuttier than a bunch of [Squirrels]?” I proposed.
“Ah! I was going for ‘eccentric’, but what can ya do ‘bout it?” He said, slipping a bit into some kind of accent on that last part.
Hearing himself looked like it made him flinch, and made me realize in turn that I have heard everyone speaking perfectly fine until now, even mixing some Frenchism in their vocabulary every now and then, like I was used to. I mean, understanding everyone wasn’t new, I had [Omniglot] after all, but what surprised me was the accent: What determined who got an accent if I could perfectly understand everyone? The provenience of the dialect they used? Possibly.
“Sorry, I meant ‘what can you do about it’”, he corrected himself, almost as if such a small mispronunciation should have caused his speech to be incomprehensible.
“I understood you the first time, you don’t have to correct yourself on my part”, I responded quickly so that it would ease his worries.
You idiot! Why did you say that!?
“Wha-“
“You could understand a language outside of the ‘common ones’?” My response seemed to have attracted his attention, but why?
“Wait, ‘common languages’?”
You are supposed to only have Polyglot, not Omniglot!
“Ah shit, I completely forgot about that!”
Before I could fumble my way through this predicament he came to my rescue: “I guess that’s someone who got [Transferred] for you!”.
Good, he is just an air-head.
His smile was back, but my [Aura] told me that it wasn’t the true extent of his emotion about this matter.
“Well, I guess I can leggó witcha, uh? How refreshin’!” It almost looked like he had activated a switch when he went to use his language.
Not that I was complaining, but I wondered if it’ll make him impossible to understand at any point.
“Sure, I still understand you… so, what are we going to start with?”
“Well, I see ya already gotcha nice weapon ri’ ther’, so we coul’ start with som’ maintenance: The first rul’ that yah must remember is-“, he started to go into ‘teacher-mode’, so I had to interrupt him.
“Wait just a moment. I may know how to solve that already”, I said, immediately starting on [Spell-Weaving].
This was a very simple idea, born from the union of the books Merga had given me, and of my second-ever [Spell], which was why I was done by the time Scotch recollected himself from being interrupted and said “Oh, do ya now?”.
You have successfully modified the Spell [Rejuvenation]:
Repair:
(Spell; targeted)
Restores a target to optimal conditions, by heightening regeneration, recovery, and recuperation, while also generating matter to repair, or replace, missing and damaged parts.
Efficiency and potency are proportional to the amount of [MP] used during casting.
It seemed that my [Ability] to [Modify] truly excelled in doing what it was supposed to do.
“Yes, I do”, I said, referring back to my interruption, “I already have a spell that both heals and repairs, so it can be also used for maintenance”.
He raised an eyebrow at me, “That’s all well and good, bu’ what can ya do when ya’r all outta Mana!? No, you will also learn the ‘normal’ way!”.
The fire in his eyes ignited, literally, and I had no idea how that couldn't possibly hurt.
He turned his fiery orbs back on me, and at that moment I knew that his lessons would be just as exhausting as the others’.
“Also, should I be preoccupied about his flaming eyes, since he said he was capable of [Exploding]?”
You have dug yourself into this hole and you will get yourself out of it.
“Shit.”
What followed was excruciating boring work that seemed to dull my mind, which was why I caught every occasion I had just to myself to experiment with the ideas of the [Spells] I wanted to make next time I had the chance.
All in all, I learned how to treat my equipment with care, how to strategically organize my baggage, how to cook with the local ingredients, and how to care about the choice of terrain for every type of activity; in the end, I think that I also got far enough in my [Spell-Weaving] to have ready exactly what I wanted to make by tomorrow.
Once we were done for the day I found that the only thing that kept me going until then was this newfound hunger for knowledge that I seemed to have developed, and the energized way Skotch seemed to teach, which was all well good, until we finished and I found myself with a headache, born from a staggeringly high [FP].
“I guess that’s what I get for focusing so much on multiple things for so long, which included [Spell-Weaving].”
We then went for dinner, and had something that looked like pasta, but crunched like it was made of leaves. When I finally staggered to bed, I promised myself that tomorrow things would go differently.
* * *
{Guild Staff’s POV}
It was late evening, and Skortch was quite pleased with the dedication that, who they had identified as a ‘special’ [Human], had demonstrated; he hadn’t asked to stop even once, no matter how unbearably boring he found the subject at hand, and the fact that he would get distracted only every once in a while, to perform experiments with [Matrixes] no less, didn’t even bother him: if anything, it was a plus!
And he said as much to his colleagues once the after-dinner reunion started.
“Good, good, he seems to be finally getting into his own- “ was starting to say Abaan, before being interrupted by Merga.
“I’d have to disagree, since I saw him breaking down emotionally, once I had left him alone, but I think that was only a one-time thing, and that he will get better soon.”
“ ‘Break down’, you say?” Asked Abaan, and everyone was already begging for more info, even if with only their eyes, on the subject.
“Yes, once he was left alone to study it appeared as if he had some sort of ‘epiphany’, and finally accepted his new situation, which ultimately resulted in an emotional outburst”, she related.
“That is… not optimal, and we might have to scale our plans back a bit”, surmised the [Guild Master].
“Ya think so? He seemed perfectly fine with me”, said the [Fire Nymph], which elicited a nod of affirmation from Grog.
“He was decidedly volatile when I met him, and an emotional instability could explain it…”, pondered Eddd aloud.
“I think that’s just the normal him, honestly, and you just irked him more than you intended to”, interjected the Syren.
“I irked him!? He irked me!” shouted the [Elementalist], while throwing his hands in the air.
“So, he has volatile tendencies, he’s emotionally unstable, and nobody gained much knowledge on how his [Class] works… I guess we will need to push him further still. Let’s start phase 3 then, even if only just to remain on schedule, and I can only hope that it doesn’t break him too hard”, concluded Abaan.
“He is strong of mind, he will not break easily: Bend, yes, but even folding will be an endeavor”, rumbled Grog, sagely.
“Oh, shut up, I still can’t believe that you gave him that discarded prototype as a weapon!” Merga reprimanded him.
“Eh, I thought it would be funny”, was the Orc’s response, which only further exasperated the [Witch].
Abaan, at that moment, wondered when it was the last time they all had chatted together like this.
‘Probably during the last [Demonic Invasion]’, he thought.