Chapter 11 – Floor 1: Part 3

“What are you doing?” Maria asked.

The Spearmaiden had come upon Mathew standing in the field of grass outside the wall in the early morning dawn light. The undead had retreated with the sun’s rising, the bodies they had left behind melting away like shadows.

Mathew looked up from the pile of leaves and tree branches that he had scrounged together.

“I’ve finally figured out how to use my Blessing.” Mathew replied.

He had spent an embarrassingly long amount of time the night before trying to use ‘Create and Control Flames.’ Nothing he seemed to do would work, and even repeatedly reviewing the summary of the Blessing failed to unlock the secret of its use.

Left without any other choice, he had wasted the night pointing at various things, whispering every word he could think of to ‘ignite’ a fire when he suddenly had success when he had snapped his fingers at a pile of dry timber someone had stacked for their cooking fire.

There were rules to the Blessing. He couldn’t burn anything moving or if someone was wearing it. It also required fuel, meaning he couldn’t create a fire on a bare patch of dirt. He also couldn’t control magical flames, limiting him to managing his own fires or the torches lining the wall at night.

“Oh? Let’s see it then.” Maria replied, crossing her arms across her chest. She hadn’t slept yet, and even with the improvements her levels gave her to endurance and stamina, she felt tired. But for some reason, she felt like indulging this Firstie.

Standing back from the pile, Mathew focused on it momentarily before snapping his fingers.

With a ‘whoosh,’ the leaves and sticks caught fire. Flames shot up into the air to almost five feet in height in a flash before settling down to consume the debris Mathew had gathered. A campfire was burning merrily in the field at his feet in seconds.

“That’s it?” Maria asked with skepticism. She had seen Blessings that hurled magic across the grassy plain and destroyed the undead. This seemed much tamer in comparison.

“Really? I just created fire!” Mathew shouted incredibly, gesturing to the burning pile in front of them.

“So can a few other people. The difference is they can do something with it. Hell, I can make a fire by rubbing two sticks together. It’s impressive if we had some marshmallows and needed you to make a fire to toast them, but it won’t get you any Aether from destroying the undead.” Maria replied.

Mathew sighed at the response.

“The difference is their fire stops burning after a few seconds, while mine keeps going for nearly a minute if I concentrate or until it consumes whatever is fueling it. I could build some pyres around the trench near the wall and wait for the undead to gather around them, then…” Mathew accentuated the words with a snap of his fingers.

“Whatever you say, Firstie. Just try not to burn us all in our beds.” Maria said as she walked away, waving her hand at him. Mathew stared at her retreating figure for a moment before shouting after her.

“I could use a hand!” Mathew yelled, but Maria kept walking.

“It’s good that you got two of your own then!”

Page Break

Mathew sat on a log at the forest's edge, chewing a strip of jerky and softening it with sips of water from a canteen.

His inventory contained a week’s worth of rations and a change of clothes. It had been a welcome surprise when he finally opened it this morning to read through the summary of his Blessing again. Wedged between the mundane items, the Tricker’s Coin was listed as well.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He had just returned from the Temple, where he found out how much Aether he would need for his first level-up. One thousand units of Aether would let him reach level 2. It would take five levels in total before he could purchase an improvement to his Blessing, making the fire he could conjure bigger and allowing him to create two at once.

He would also be eligible to buy another Blessing at level five, but the holographic screen on his wristband hadn’t shown him what would be available at that time.

The ‘Shop’ and the ability to gain levels were only available within the confines of the Temple walls. He had looked through the items to purchase quickly, seeing various mundane things like food and clothing and weapons and equipment that grew more expensive as he scrolled.

Without Aether, they were all ‘greyed’ out, and he couldn’t even see the descriptions. Everything on the second page and beyond had level restrictions, preventing him from knowing the items available at higher levels. He wouldn’t be able to plan ahead.

Draining the canteen, it disappeared into motes of light once it was empty. With a sigh, Mathew stood up and stretched his weary muscles. He had been gathering tree branches and logs for hours, making a large pile just outside the walls for tonight.

His plan was to have a row of tinder piles along the trench where he would ignite them once the undead bunched together. The ditch had dirt walls on both sides, protecting the wooden wall from his flames.

If it worked, he should be able to take out a few undead for their Aether. If it didn’t, perhaps he could convince Maria to give him a hand with a new plan. He had thought about digging a pit and filling it with debris. Once the Undead fell in, he would set fire to the tinder within and burn them.

But it would be time-consuming and backbreaking work to dig a hole big enough. With Maria’s help, it would go much more quickly, but the Spearmaiden had shown no interest in giving him a hand.

Lugging a bundle of sticks that he had tied together with a length of cloth he had found in the town, he slowly drudged back to the wall. A few more hours of this and he should be done, and he could catch a few hours of sleep before the undead arrived.

“Level two, here I come.” Mathew muttered, hoping all this was going to be worth it. Like every other challenge he had in life, he would overcome this one as well. He wasn’t planning on spending months on the first floor while Emily became further out of reach.

Page Break

The night was a near mirror of the last, but there were a few slight alterations this time. Mathew stood on the wall, the same as he did the night before, but unlike his first time, he was ready for what he would be facing.

The horde of undead emerged from the tree line, their shambling walk slow and uneven. The horrible sound of their moans and screams filled the air and still sent a shiver down Mathew’s spine.

Maria and a dozen others leapt over the wall, intent on destroying as many undead as possible before they were pushed back through the gates.

The Spearmaiden had told him that if they were efficient, they could earn as much Aether in that short amount of time as the rest of the night combined. It explained why they took such a risk fighting the undead face-to-face rather than from up high on the wall.

In only a few minutes, they retreated through the gates, and Mathew was filled with tense nervousness as he watched the hundreds of undead turn into thousands. They began to press up against the wall, banging on the wooden logs and attempting to force their way through the gate.

“Just a few more feet.” Mathew whispered, observing the undead falling in the trench in front of the wall. They scrambled slowly to their feet, the footing uneven from the loose dirt and the debris that he had spent the day gathering. When he felt that there were enough, he focused on the first pyre he had built near the gate.

Focusing his mind, he raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.

There was a loud ‘whoosh’ as fire erupted from the kindling and leaves. The flames reached five feet into the air and nearly as wide. The darkness was abruptly lit, throwing the undead horde into colour and light, where before, there was only grey and shadow.

Three undead who had been standing on the debris pile were engulfed in flames. Mathew watched as their flesh bubbled and burned. They shuffled forward two more steps before collapsing. The fire he had created consumed them.

More of the zombies stumbled into the fire, and sweat beaded on Mathew’s brow as he struggled to maintain the blaze. He could feel the heat that had been present in his chest since he had selected his Discipline gradually cool.

With a gasp, he let go of the spell. He leaned against the top of the wall wearily, his limbs shaky from the exertion.

He had done it. His hard work had paid off. He had taken out at least three, with a few more injured by the now dimmer fire. Soon, the stomping feet of the undead doused the flames. But he still had a few more piles that he could ignite once he caught his breath.

“Well Firstie! Colour me impressed. Popped your cherry, did you? We’ll turn you from a Charlatan into a Champion in no time!” Maria congratulated him, slapping him heavily on the shoulder as she watched the zombie horde approach.

With a weary sigh, Mathew looked to the next pyre.