Aaron checked, double checked, and triple checked his bag. Over a week’s worth of food, spare clothes, a book on basic wilderness survival, a first aid kit, a multitool, some rope, and a grappling hook. Plus the baseball bat in his hand. Some of it, namely the grappling hook, might not be necessary. But hey, he already owned one, and he couldn’t resist bringing it somewhere he might actually use it, even if the chances were small.
The obelisks had shown up just a few days ago, and once the first reports came back from the other side he’d wanted in. His mother told him if he went through one she’d kill him herself, but he’d disappointed her before and was prepared to do it again. People had died, but honestly, it wasn’t like he was very happy with his life in the first place. People also came back with magic powers, incredible discoveries, and more wealth than he’d ever seen. To Aaron, it was worth risking death. He didn’t want to just live, he wanted to be something, to do something.
And so he was, hopefully, over prepared and plenty eager for his first attempt going in. Reports claimed time passed almost five times faster on the other side, so people had already learned a lot. The first time you entered, you’d get a class, and a safe room for an hour. Some people even said the obelisk would take you somewhere beneficial for whoever used it first. Worst case scenario he’d just turn around and leave. But he’d had an obelisk show up in his damn closet, and he’d already waited long enough. Plus, with the time difference, his free weekend would give him over a week inside. He wasn’t planning on leaving too soon, and he wouldn’t have to.
He placed his palm against the cool stone surface, and it began to burn. It hurt, like touching a hot stove, but there were no known injuries from just touching an obelisk, so he kept his hand in place and suffered through it. Strange markings lit up across the black face of the obelisk, and the room faded around him. For the briefest of moments, he floated in an endless void, a night sky filled not just with stars but with galaxies, drifting across the empty space. And then he collapsed on a dusty floor.
[Congratulations! You have been granted access to the Empyrean Records.]
[Congratulations! You have successfully crossed over through the obelisk.]
[Your immediate surroundings will be safe for one hour, after which they may or may not become dangerous.]
[You will now be issued a class. Do you accept?]
[Yes] [No]
He felt a wave of nausea, and after taking a moment to regain his bearings, he sat cross legged on the floor by the obelisk and looked around. He was in a small room, and the only light came from a few rectangular holes carved in the walls, showing only the sky outside. There was a single exit, a short sliding door made from rotting wood. Everything else seemed to be made of some kind of pale brown brick, which combined with the dry heat made him feel like he was in an oven. There were what looked like a few stone lamps stacked in a corner, and some jars of what might have been some kind of oil or other fuel against a wall. Perhaps this was once a storage room of some kind.
Once he felt ready, he tried his best to mentally select the [Yes] button. A small part of him was tempted to hit no, just to see what happened, but everyone who’d tried had been sent back to Earth and just accepted when they next entered. He struggled for several moments, but he’d seen many people saying that that was normal, and it would be easier to navigate the system’s screens with his mind soon. It was one of the few things people could agree on enough for him to trust. He tried to clear his mind and try again. Finally, after a good couple minutes of intense focus, he managed to accept it. A new series of messages showed up to replace the first.
[Congratulations! You have successfully accepted a class.]
[You have received the Bibliomancer class.]
[You have received 10 stat points]
[You have received the basic skills: Summon Inkblot, Speed Read, and Cite Spell]
He frowned. Bibliomancer didn’t sound like the most useful class. Well, maybe back on Earth something like Speed Read might help him pass his classes so he could get his degree and move on to grad school, but he didn’t see it helping him survive another world very much. He didn’t have much hope for Summon Inkblot either, but he at least hoped Cite Spell would be some kind of genuine magic. Once he opened his status screen he’d be able to see some details, but that was a few steps away. It took another minute of focus, but soon he had the screen in front of him.
Aaron Nguyen
Class: Bibliomancer
Subclass:
Species: Human
Level: 0
XP: 0/100
HP: 80/80
SP: 70/70
MP: 130/130
Stats
Strength: 7
Agility: 9
Constitution: 8
Endurance: 7
Intelligence: 13
Wisdom: 9
Spirit: 8
Luck: 10
Free Points: 0
Skills
Summon Inkblot: 0
Speed Read: 0
Cite Spell: 0
Traits
Aaron was a little disappointed so many of his stats were below ten, which was estimated to be the human average, but not surprised. He’d never been the most physically active, and not really a great decision maker either. At least his luck was average, not that anyone had a starting value other than ten. The traits section was a let down too, but he’d already heard that almost nobody started out with any, and very few people had managed to earn any later yet either. The sheet was fairly simple overall, the only thing that might’ve seriously confused him had he not done his research beforehand were his XP, HP, SP, and MP, which others had already found out stood for experience points, health points, stamina points, and mana points respectively.
Now, the general consensus was that all of your first points should go equally into strength, agility, constitution, and endurance, regardless of what your skills were. Intelligence, wisdom, spirit, and luck are all good, but don’t do much when you’re fighting a monster with no real training and no idea how to use skills. He wanted to look at his skills but knew if he did it would be hard not to put his stats where they’d affect them more. So with that in mind, he dumped two points each into agility and constitution, and three into strength and endurance since they were his lowest. He then focused on his class and skills, eager to see what he really got.
Bibliomancer
It’s a well known stereotype that mages love books, but only a few embrace this love enough to become bibliomancers.
Bibliomancy is a branch of magic focused on books, writing, and reading. Spells will thus relate to reading and writing books. Bibliomancers are best known for their ability to draw spells from their books, allowing for an extremely large and versatile list of powers.
Receive an extra 2 Intelligence and 1 Wisdom per level.
Skills
Summon Inkblot
Conjures an elemental of ink called an Inkblot to be your familiar, capable of performing various functions ranging from copying books to attacking enemies.
50 MP
Speed Read
Increases your reading speed significantly, at higher levels mundane books may be read instantly.
50 MP per minute
Cite Spell
Focus on a passage of text and turn it into a spell based on its contents, strength of the spell is determined by more than just mana.
15-100 MP
Well, these weren’t as bad as he’d expected. Speed Read held no surprises, but the Inkblot could be useful, and once he had more than a basic survival book, Cite Spell would likely be his most important skill. He tested out Summon Inkblot first, eating away at half of his mana. Thankfully, there were no nonsensical words or strange hand gestures, he simply had to focus on the spell. Losing mana felt strange, like being tired, mentally rather than physically, but also on a deeper, more spiritual level. Like he was tired in his soul, if that made sense.
[Congratulations! Summon Inkblot is now level 1.]
A stream of dark ink began to flow down his right arm, pooling in his palm in front of him. It grew until he held a shifting mass of ink the size of a baseball, and as the last drops reached his hand it suddenly collapsed like a broken water balloon and covered his hand. It felt like wearing a wet glove. At least a level up seemed helpful. He’d have to see what exactly it could do, and figure out how to control it. He attempted to poke at it mentally for a moment, but got no reaction. Then he tried just talking.
“Um, hello? Inkblot?”
It raised a vaguely head shaped tendril of ink in response.
“Can you understand me?”
The tendril moved up and down, like it was nodding at him. Aaron took that as a yes.
“Good. But you can’t speak? Hm, and do you have a name?”
Side to side, a pause, and then side to side again. A no to both questions, he assumed. He supposed he should give it a name, but he’d never been good at coming up with those. He’d deal with it later.
“Can you do anything for me? I don’t mean to be demanding, but we’re only safe here for about an hour.”
The Inkblot hesitated for a moment, then shot off a spike of ink from the side of his hand. It looked sharp enough to hurt, but it was only a few inches long. Better than nothing, he supposed.
“Thank you, is there anything else?”
The elemental seemed to collapse, then, with a sudden stinging, it seeped into his skin, dyeing his hand black. Other than his stained hand, it looked like the familiar was gone. A way to hide, or maybe disguise itself then. He decided to leave it as was for the time being.
Next on his list was Cite Spell. Speed Read didn’t seem to be immediately useful, just a mana drain, and the only book he had was short anyway. He quickly found a passage on starting fires, and tried to cast it as a spell. Nothing happened. A glance at his status screen told him it still used up fifteen mana. Perhaps that was the cost for even a failed spell.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
He read the passage, then reread it for safe measure. He tried to cast the spell again, focusing even harder on the words in the book, and this time a small flame sputtered to life in his hands. His hands which were holding the book. Quickly, he threw the book to the floor, and started stamping out the fire. It didn’t seem too burned, but he’d still have to be more careful next time. His status screen told him it still only cost fifteen mana, which left him with fifty left.
[Congratulations! Cite Spell is now level 1.]
He read the message, and then it really hit him. He’d just done magic. Real, physics-defying magic. He had to appreciate that for a few moments.
The next half hour was spent skimming through his book, looking for sections that might be useful for spells. Ultimately, he didn’t know what waited outside the room, but doubted it was the kind of danger a book on basic wilderness survival was designed for. The baseball bat would likely see more use. Still, he picked out a passage on how to hunt, and another on first aid.
With no more preparations to make, Aaron rose to his feet, picked up his bat, and stepped up to the door.
He gripped his bat in two sweaty hands, and gently nudged the wooden panel to the side. Thankfully, there were no horrible monsters waiting for him, just an empty room. He lowered his bat, and let out a sigh of relief. No monsters was a good thing. He’d be looking to find some eventually, or he’d never get anywhere in this world at level zero. They were dangerous though, and he knew nothing about where he was or what he might be facing, so his first goal was to find people.
As he walked out into the room, he saw carvings on the walls. It looked like artwork, with the occasional line of what he guessed was writing. Most of it was faded, but he could just barely make out depictions of either a desert or an ocean. He hoped it wasn’t the outside of whatever building he was in, as neither one sounded like a good place for him to be. Across the room was another door like the one he came from, and behind it just another small room. To his right and left though were two large openings, which looked like they led deeper in. There was no difference he could see, so he chose right and walked slowly over.
There were no more windows in the next room, and he could barely see. It was also less of a room, and more of a hallway. The walls were bare, just the same pale bricks, and he almost felt bored. He passed into another large chamber, and spotted unlit torches on the walls. He tugged one free of its slot against the wall, and the dry wood cracked in his hands. Gripping the charred end in his hands, he cast Cite Spell, and focused on his fire starting passage. It worked, and the torch ignited. And on his first try this time, too.
[Congratulations! Cite Spell is now level 2.]
The level up was nice, using a skill properly must count for more than accidentally burning books. The fire was nicer though, its soft glow let him see the room fully. The first thing he noticed was that it was full of stone coffins, and the second, to his horror, was that some of them were opening.
Aaron began to hyperventilate, he did not want to fight zombies. As the first shriveled corpse clawed its way up from its tomb, he took a deep breath, and swung his baseball bat at its skull as hard as he could. It knocked the body to the floor, but it pulled itself back up and snarled at him. He ran to the door, but as he stepped into the hallway to the other room, strange markings on the floor flared up with light and a block of stone slid down from the ceiling and blocked off the exit.
His legs felt weak, and he struggled to stand. Carefully, he set his torch on the floor. He turned around, and watched the first corpse shamble into the hallway as he heard others start to rise as well. Its dead eyes stared at him with some kind of hunger. It was more emotion than he expected from a corpse, and far more than he'd ever wanted to see from one. He swung his bat at its head again, but missed, and only hit its shoulder. He stepped back, and another hit to the same spot took off its arm, but he was running out of space. Finally, a solid hit to the side of its head shattered its neck, and it fell to the floor.
Three more replaced it. He knocked one to the floor with a swing to its knee, and a second tripped over it and fell. But the third kept coming, staring at him with those same terrible eyes. Aaron charged the thing, hoping to hit it with more force than he’d hit the others, and, thankfully, succeeded. He smashed it into the wall, and a quick two hits to the head crumpled its skull in before it dropped to the floor.
And then another barreled into his side. They fell to the floor together, and it began to dig into him with rotten fingers and broken teeth. Panicking, he pulled an arm off his throat with one hand, and pushed its face away with his other. It still clawed at him with its free hand, and he struggled not to cry. He didn’t want to die like this.
Just as he thought it was over for him, his hand began to sting, and ink spilled out onto the zombie’s head. It collapsed on top of him with no warning, and as he pushed it off he saw a tendril of ink retracting from a hole on the corpse’s temple.
[Congratulations! Summon Inkblot is now level 2.]
“Oh god,” he swore, “I thought I was fucking dead. Please keep doing that, holy shit.”
Still shaking, he stood up, and found the last zombie. He must’ve hit its kneecap hard, because it was still laying on the floor, dragging itself towards him by its fingers. Carefully, and with deep breaths, he stomped on each hand until they were broken messes. A baseball bat to its skull a few times turned its head into a mess as well.
[Congratulations! You have slain 4 Mummified Zombies.]
[You have received 200 XP.]
[Congratulations! You are now level 1.]
[You have received 5 stat points.]
Feeling sick, Aaron leaned against the wall, and threw up on the floor. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. Maybe his mom was right, and he should have never come here. He sat down, facing the stone blocking his exit, and took a moment to breathe. The inkblot wormed its way up his arm onto his shoulder, and he felt like it was trying to comfort him. It helped, a little. He stood back up, and though it didn’t look like it would open, he tried to move the stone blocking the door. It didn’t budge.
He’d have nightmares, but at least he gained his first level, and a few points to distribute. Now that he knew he could survive his immediate surroundings, he thought he could afford to consider his skills a little bit more. From what he’d heard, most of the stats were pretty self explanatory. Raising your strength made you stronger, agility let you control your movements constitution gave you health, and endurance gave you stamina. Those were all good, but they didn’t seem to be what his class was really focused on. Intelligence supposedly made him smarter and gave him mana, wisdom would give him more control over his spells, and spirit would boost the power of his magic. These are what he’d need for his class. A little less tangible than the first four stats, but no less real or useful. Luck seemed to be the odd one out in that it didn’t seem anyone could prove it did anything, even people from WORLD said so, but everyone claimed it would just kind of shift the odds in your favor anyway.
He considered where to put his free points carefully, and the distraction helped take his mind off of what had just happened. He first placed two points in wisdom, deciding he wanted it to be closer to his intelligence than it was, and another point in constitution, since more health would never hurt. With his last two, he decided to split them between wisdom and spirit, since none of his skills really did anything in combat, so he could afford to wait around for his mana to go up instead of making sure he had lots to use without resting. He checked over the rest of his status.
Aaron Nguyen
Class: Bibliomancer
Subclass:
Species: Human
Level: 1
XP: 100/200
HP: 93/110
SP: 56/70
MP: 96/130
Stats
Strength: 10
Agility: 11
Constitution: 11
Endurance: 10
Intelligence: 13
Wisdom: 12
Spirit: 9
Luck: 10
Free Points: 0
Skills
Summon Inkblot: 2
Speed Read: 0
Cite Spell: 2
Traits
The slight drops in his health, stamina, and mana weren’t ideal, so he pulled out his sat to rest and took out his first aid kit. Then he had a better idea.
From his bag he dug out his survival book and flipped to the first aid section. The spell took him three attempts this time, but he managed to direct the magic through only a single hand, which he held against his scratches. As he hoped, his health went back up to full, though it felt barely strong enough as it was, and he suspected a serious wound would be cleaned at best by the spell. He’d hoped this would happen, but was still in awe. A few more minutes passed as his stamina and mana went up, but it seemed the system didn’t control everything, as while his stats reached full he still felt less rested than he did when before entering the obelisk what felt like hours ago.
The only way to go was further in, so he picked up his torch and marched onward. He considered searching the dead mummies for anything of value, but couldn’t even bring himself to look at them, let alone search them. He passed several unopened coffins as he walked to the end of the room, and prayed silently that they would remain closed.
Down a long flight of stairs was the next room, which was much grander. It was larger, had a taller ceiling held up by mostly intact pillars, and the floor was covered in what might once have been ornate tiles rather than just the same bricks as everything else. But it was the raised sarcophagus in the center which drew his attention. Intricately carved and decorated with what looked like gold, it practically demanded he look closer. Baseball bat at the ready, he cautiously approached the middle of the room.
And then the sarcophagus began to open. Aaron swore, and immediately went into fight or flight mode. He chose flight, and quickly backpedaled until he tripped on the edge of a broken tile, falling onto the floor as he swore again. He watched as yet another dessicated corpse rose from dead before him, and tried his best to control his breathing.
The zombie started taking slow steps towards him, and he knew this one was different. It was better preserved, and wore some kind of armor, ceremonial, perhaps, instead of the scraps the others wore. And worst of all, it held swords. Two blades, which looked in better condition than anything else he’d seen on this world so far, held in near skeletal hands. Still laying on the ground, he pushed himself back further and further. The corpse paused, just a couple feet away, readying itself for something, and Aaron raised his baseball to give some kind of pitiful defense. And then it knelt.
Kneeling on the ground, the corpse held its twin swords out in front of itself. Like it was offering them to him. He took a moment to breathe, and then managed to drag himself to his feet. The corpse remained unmoving, like it’d returned to the dead. He felt a faint writhing on his hand, as if his new Inkblot familiar was as confused as he was. Tentatively, he set down his torch and reached out towards the loosely held blades. It had no reaction. When he took one into his own hand, it still didn’t move.
A moment later, he dropped his bat and reached out again, taking the second blade. New notifications flashed into the edge of his vision, but he ignored them as the corpse stood straight in a single rapid movement he didn’t even think such an ancient body could make, but before he could do more than shout it turned to walk back towards its own sarcophagus. He watched, silent and frozen, as it climbed back in and replaced the lid with a sense of finality. Seemingly safe, he looked at his new message from the system.
[Congratulations! You have been offered a subclass]
[Accepting a subclass will offer you new skills, and may affect your future class skills or have other consequences.]
[You have been offered the Alkensay Swordsman subclass. Do you accept?]
[Yes] [No]
Well this was new. He thought about it. Alkensay wasn’t a word he’d ever heard before, and he felt that it might be something he should understand before accepting a subclass based around whatever it meant. He did know what a swordsman was though, so judging by the two identical swords in his hands this might be some kind of dual wielding subclass. But, if this subclass was something good, he had no idea if it was possible for it to be offered to him again, and even if it was possible, it might not be easy. Ultimately, he decided that if nothing else, he liked the idea of being able to fight with two swords, and that what was likely a slightly more direct combat subclass couldn’t hurt. And with that, he selected [Yes].
[Congratulations! You have successfully accepted a subclass.]
[You have received the Alkensay Swordsman subclass.]
[You have received 5 stat points]
[You have received the basic skill: Alkensay Swordsmanship]
Although still shaken, the rush of notifications was satisfying. He sat down against a pillar to look at the details, but kept the sarcophagus in the corner of his eye. With a thought, he pulled up the full descriptions for his new subclass and the skill that came with it.
Alkensay Swordsman
Before the fall of the Nesran Empire, enemy nations around the world lived in fear of their secretive order of warrior spies.
Alkensay Swordsmanship is a two sword fighting style developed by an order of warriors who dedicated themselves to protecting their country and its knowledge while infiltrating other countries and stealing their secrets. Masters of this style were said to be able to perfectly match and counter their enemies’ fighting styles. Skills from or affected by this subclass will likely relate to swordsmanship and information gathering.
Receive an extra 1 agility per level.
Skills
Alkensay Swordsmanship
Wield two swords at once in the ancient Alkensay style, slightly increases damage and coordination with two swords.
Despite his earlier trauma, Aaron grinned. The subclass seemed like it could be perfect for him. Swordsmanship would help him fight better without his book themed spells, but information gathering skills sounded like something that would synergize well with his main class. Of course, he could find out later that this subclass was garbage, but he wasn’t betting on it. He stood up, and gave one of his new swords an excited spin at his side, and felt his new skill nudging him in a different direction. He repositioned his feet and positioned his swords in front of himself in a way that just felt right.
[Congratulations! Alkensay Swordsmanship is now level 1]
It seemed the system agreed. He would definitely be trying this out more later, but for now he just wanted to find his way outside, and hopefully back to the obelisk. He was hesitant to leave the sarcophagus behind him, but it seemed the corpse inside wouldn’t be coming back out, and although he tried, he couldn’t make the lid budge an inch. Leaving the baseball bat on the ground, he managed to carry both swords and his torch at once with an awkward grip so he could still see as he left the room behind.
Within the next passage, there was a flight of stairs leading up. He was hopeful that that meant he was on his way out. After a short climb, he was face to face with another door. Two wooden panels, barely held together, blocked his way forward. His first attempt at opening them just caused the right panel to crumble, but a more careful push slid the left against the wall and out of his way.
Inside, he saw walls of shelves, filled with scrolls. A library. He decided then and there that the rumors must be true, and being the first to use an obelisk placed him in an ideal location. A brief glance at a few scrolls taught him that he couldn’t read the language, not the he was surprised, but he hoped it might be something he could learn. He’d heard back on earth that the system would teach him the first language spoken to him here, but he didn’t know if that would apply to the written language. It seemed not, since he would have assumed that reading it would teach him the language as well if that were the case.
The library excited him, and he expected the scrolls could be very useful with his class, but without being able to read the language there was nothing else to do but move on. The next couple rooms were mostly empty save the same kinds of art he’d seen earlier on the walls. But the third room from the library was different.
The third room was the largest he’d seen yet, and held what looked like a brazier. Past the brazier, though, was a very short set of stairs, leading to what looked like a wooden trapdoor set into the low ceiling. He walked up the stairs, and pushed open the trapdoor. For a brief few moments, a deluge of fine sand poured in through the opening, but it was gone as fast as it came, leaving only the sky above him. Finally, he could exit this strange tomb, and make his first real steps into the new world.