Chapter 46

The Quaintly Familiar

Asher had neglected one of the rewards he got for completing the last Stage of the ‘tutorial’--a book titled Empire’s Progenitor: Tales of Awe. It was a thick tome, weighing nearly thirty pounds by his estimates, and he had to lay it out on the floor as he feared it would obliterate his bed.

Each page was crafted from the finely pressed vellum, thick, rough, and textured under the graze of his fingers. The text was written in ornate lettering, each character inked with a deep, rich indigo that made the words stand out against the pale backdrop of the pages. The ink etched into letters caught the glints of light in an odd way, giving a thin and sublime outline to them without being grating.

Edges of the pages were each gilded with golden mosaics of veined leaves, unrestrained in sheer opulence.

The strangest of all, though the language wasn’t one that Asher could recognize, he could read the print just fine, as though it was the first language he was ever taught.

He traced his fingers gently over the letters which combined into the first inscription, a dedication of sorts, detailing that the texts contained within weren’t so much ‘history’ as they were ‘tales that have to be true because the first Emperor was that amazing’.

He began to flip through the pages and soon found that besides the text, there were quite a few paintings as well depicting the events described therein. It wasn't all that different, he mused, than a book of fairy tales back on Earth, or a compilation of myths spanning the ancient cultures where the flash of thunder was an angry roar of a God, and the rain was a purposeful blessing.

The 'main character', as it were, of the book was the Empire's founder, thusly nameless within the letterings, only ever referred to as 'Father'. And, as most myths go, he did everything imaginable within the span of a few decades it took him to conquer the lands that eventually became the Empire's borders--west toward the Shaheen Desert, south toward the Q'vail Bay and the Spanless Sea, east toward the Sordid Plains, and north toward the Eriditude Rings, a chain of mountains apparently spanning tens of thousands of miles, a number rightly pulled out of nowhere as far as Asher was concerned.

There were Dragons, Phoenixes, men cleaving mountains, conquering monsters and beasts aplenty--all the signature moves of the heroes from tales, boring enough to make a man yawn. But there were also a few things set aside as almost footnotes that humanized it, if ever so little. 'Father', as it were, had a dog when he was young. The dog was only ever mentioned thrice in the story--at the start, when the dog died, and toward the end where, after founding the Empire, 'Father' erected a mountain-sized mausoleum for the dog. Or the tiny, barely-mentioned-in-passing paragraph that noted how he made all servants in the Palace learn how to sign a few words because his best friend lost his hearing in the war.

In the sheer sea of inhuman, moments of heart still lingered on. In some ways, that was which separated the reality and the myth--Asher's most vivid memories were not of his 'heroics' and otherwise, but of the few, silent moments where he felt most human. Mythology celebrates the seemingly impossible, where men and women arise above life and attain elan of spirituality; life, on the other hand, quietly serenades the moments of heart.

He closed his eyes and gently recalled one of them.

He was some twenty-and-a-buck years old, still drifting aimlessly through life, when his mother died. They were far from close--in fact, by then, they hadn’t spoken a word in over two years. The hospital called him and asked him to come in because there were some inconsistencies with her personal information. He felt more bothered by having to go than anything else.

Once there, a rather young doctor--barely a few years older than him at the time--desperately fumbled her way through the questions, stammering. She danced around calling it 'death' and always corrected herself to 'loss'. It was awkward, unrelentingly so, but at the same time, it was rather beautiful. Though her face eluded him by now, he could still remember her faintly squeaky voice that would always go an octave higher when she mentioned death in any way.

Opening his eyes, he set the book aside and took a deep breath. It was unwise, he concluded, to read further into the book beyond the scope of what it was meant to represent. Though humanizing ‘them’ to some degree was good, even necessary as it would do well to dispel the notion of their invincibility, it was best it be left at that.

He went to the tavern at the plaza, ordering a tankard of ale and drinking it in silence. It wasn’t long before he picked up on a rather strange chatter coming from the rear, focusing on it.

“--no fucking way! Somebody cleared that fucking place?!”

“Yup. I was just at the Center, and it’s gone. An entirely different Stage in its place.”

“Fuck me. Didn’t everyone say it’s basically impossible?”

"It is. I remember Dylan tried the Stage after he got the Stone of Return. Apparently, it wasn't really the monsters that were difficult--just your standard garbage. No, it was the boss. Supposedly, it nearly one-shot him and he barely managed to escape."

“And someone cleared it? Shit. Can only imagine the rewards.”

“--!!” The fucking rewards! Right! I never got the rewards for clearing the Stage! Asher quickly looked over his current stats as well as the number of Souls and Divine Gems he had--1558 Souls and 47 Divine Gems. Stats, too, were the same--outside the ones boosted by the ring, naturally.

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

Name: Asher Rune

Age: 0 (Died at 23y, 8m, 22d; Atlantic Ocean)

Race: Human (Unevolved)

Cabin Name: Scallywag’s Enduring Torture Room

Titles: Hell Survivor

Cabin Upgrades: 2

Blessings: 0

...

Health: 340

Health Regeneration: 3,2

Damage: 10

Movement Speed: 1,5

Attack Speed: 1

Strength: 0,8

Intelligence: 14

Agility: 0

Armor: 0

Critical Chance: 0.1%

Critical Damage: 150%

Cooldown Reduction: 0

Luck: 1

Gathering Range: 5 yards

...

Passive Abilities: 3

Completed Runs: 6

Unique Enemies Slain: 18

Bosses Slain: 3

Secrets Unlocked: 0

They really screwed me out of the rewards, huh? He smiled bitterly, taking a sip of mead. The sweetness swept the bitterness for a moment as his eyes caught a glimpse of an item tucked in at the far edge of his vision. Bitterness returned in full force, overwhelming him. Scroll of Temporum sat quietly, unused, as though mocking him. All that pain, all that agony, all that fear... he could have skipped it had he just used the Scroll to return.

No, he shook his head after a moment’s thought, however. She would have just tossed me back in, I bet.

He made a new, ‘forward’ mental note of the Scroll so he wouldn’t forget it again, and continued drinking. From the sounds of it, he’d become a bit of a legend among the others--it seemed that the Castle Hold Stage had been around for a long time and that it truly was a one-and-done sort as it was now gone. Though a part of him wanted the credit and the fame that went hand in hand with it, he knew better. Even if he had to put on a front when facing the kidnappers, he was well aware of just rotten people could be.

Greed and jealousy were fires hardest to put out, and once kindled, they would burn until they’ve consumed all in their wake. He already had a target on his back and he scarcely desired another.

“Yo,” an unfamiliar voice shook him out of his stupor as he looked to the side where he saw a young woman hoist herself up on the stool near his. She seemed to be in her late twenties to early thirties, her red hair styled short and rough, a pair of black eyes curiously looking over him.

She wasn’t... beautiful, as it were, but she was curious looking. No, Jesus, that’s worse than thinking she’s ugly, he admonished himself in silence while smiling and greeting her back.

“What’s up?”

“Haven’t seen you around,” she asked. “You one of the newbies?”

“That’s me.”

“The one that got the smith to scorch her house yet again?”

“Uh, no. Not that one.”

“Good. It delayed my item for three days. Yeah, gimme a tankard of ale and keep ‘em coming. So, accustomed to this place yet?” she seemed oddly well-put for someone in this place which immediately alarmed him.

“Just had my first shit, actually,” he said.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

“Good thing girls don’t shit. Otherwise, I’d be in the world of trouble.”

“Oh, they don’t?” he smiled faintly.

“Yeah, you don’t know that? Oh, it was all over the internet back when I was on Earth. Girls don’t poop and, uh, the Crazy Frog guy. I, uh, I got taken in 2010. You?”

“About a decade and a chunk later.” he replied. “How is it even possible? People randomly disappeared and nobody on Earth questioned it?”

“Well, there are theories,” she said as her ale got served and she immediately emptied the entire thing in one go. “Most believe that people on Earth just don’t know. The moment we are kidnapped, all traces of our existence are retroactively expunged. It was as though we were never there.”

“Oof, a harrowing thought.”

“I know. Hey,” he looked at her in confusion for a moment. “A cute girl is talking to you here. Can you at least pretend you’re more interested in me than that cheap mead you’re drinking?”

“...” Asher grinned, now more than ever certain that this was far from random. He wasn’t in the mood to find out precisely why, however, especially considering it was unlikely to be to his benefit. “I was, uh, twenty-six, I think, when I experienced my first honey trap,” he said. “I was sitting in a small bar in Budapest, just minding my own business and catching up on Garfield’s latest adventures, when a girl who can generously be described as practically naked just sits next to me. Out of nowhere, seemingly at random.”

"... shit, what, you were like a spy or something?" she exclaimed in a seemingly genuine interest.

“Hah, something, I guess.”

“Damn. Well, tough stuff, I guess. And, yes, okay--my motives are a bit impure, but they aren’t actually that bad.”

“Oh?”

“Remember how my item was delayed for three days?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I, uh, I may have gotten a bit pissy and said some things that I should not have, and now... well, now I ain’t got an item. Or a way to get one. Forever.”

“Aah,” Asher exclaimed, clicking his tongue. “You want me to kiss ass for you.”

“Yeah, kind of,” she chuckled. “Look, Ey’lwan hates pretty much everyone here. I figured, maybe a newcomer who hasn’t yet fallen completely out of her any-graces would have the slimmest of chances of helping me. I’m not asking you to do it for free, either--I’ll spot you fifty K Souls if you can just get her to talk to me. Double that if you get her to do this one item for me. Half a mil if you get her to forgive me completely.”

“...” Asher blinked a few times in disbelief but, to his shock, it didn’t seem she was lying. “Alright,” he said in the end. “I’ll put in a good word for you. Half a mil, huh? That’s a lot of upgrades.”

“Wow, someone’s confident,” she exclaimed. “Shit, I’ll drink to that. Cheers?”

“Cheers.”

“No wonder, talking about honey traps and shit. You must have fucked back in the day, huh? Confidence like that doesn’t grow on trees, you know? Well, unless you’re a psycho. Are you a psycho? Eh, you probably are. Most of us here are, a little bit at least. Right, well. My name’s Rae. I don’t come here often ‘cause I’m busy kicking ass and having my ass kicked, but, uh, I’ll come to the tavern every day for a week and wait for you. If you haven’t come for a week, I’ll just assume you’ve failed and you’re too much of a pussy to come say it to my face. Good luck, newbie. You’re gonna need it.”

She stood up and walked away, prompting him to chuckle and shake his head for a moment. Strangely, that was the first genuine interaction he'd had with another person since coming here--favors and bartering, he knew those things. He loved them. They were like armor in the line of fire. Finishing off the mead, he left the tavern and turned toward the smithy.

It was a bit rough, as his weekly appointment wasn’t for at least five days, but it should be fine. She said a week, after all. Instead, he headed over toward the Adventure Center, wanting to confirm what he’d heard as well as see whether there were any changes. Before convincing El to forgive, he’d also have to tackle his mandatory Stage. He’d already decided to take it easy and probably go for one of the tutorial ones, though as soon as that thought fully formed in his mind, he regretted it. Life was funny that way--it was as though the cosmos found pleasure in taking the desires and twisting them into a knot, tempting the heart elsewhere until it was consumed.

No, no, I just gotta ignore it. He thought and stepped in line in front of the massive building. I won't be able to ignore it, will I? Shit.