The first thing I do as I follow along behind Sytoria is try mentally calling up my Status. It works almost immediately, which is definitely a bonus as I truly wasn't expecting it to, and the huge mass of options and blue boxes and categories and everything are too unwieldy.
I spend a few moments—truly less than ten seconds because apparently, even though I'm not any smarter, my attributes truly upgraded my processing power—reorganizing things into a more palatable stream of information. Aethos was right when they said that the System was pretty intuitive. I mean, it's literally designed to scan your soul with some insane [Soul Sense] or something like that, so I would have assumed as much, but in practice I'm pleasantly surprised by the fact that they were right.
Name: Zed Ashford
Age: 22 18
Path: War
Class: Warsmith
Level: 2
Experience: 11%
Attributes:
Vigor: 135
Resilience: 225
Dexterity: 180
Focus: 90
Will: 225
Attunement: 45
Spells:
[Halo] - Novice
Skills:
[Master of Body] - Novice
[Master of Blade] - Novice
[Master of Forge] - Novice
[Serene Slaughter] - Novice
[Augment] - Novice
[Tough Skin] - Novice
All in all, it's a pretty decent sheet. I had been surprised to find out I'd leveled because I don't feel any different, honestly. It's still an interesting concept, quantifying someone's level of understanding of a Concept based on some arbitrary calculations of proportionate soul density, but it does, in fact, make me feel good, somehow. That I'm doing something right. That I'm on the right Path, lowercase and uppercase. I had gained the levels a bit faster than I otherwise expected, though that might be due to the "time" in Aethos's Domain and the experiences I'd had with my own soul boundaries.
I can slightly feel them, even now. It might sound weird, but I feel like meditating would help me find it. My soul, that is. I've meditated before, though I felt incredibly stupid doing it, though not only because I was being watched while doing it by the same therapist who'd told me my mother's death wasn't my fault. She'd noticed my dissociation, the level of disconnect I'd had with myself, and figured that "finding myself through meditation" would help. I wouldn't know, though, because I spent the whole time with my eyes closed, sweating because I was being watched and trying to focus on making the "right" expressions and motions rather than doing it right. Having the right mentality.
I had only been 15, and I had been monumentally guilty about the thought that I killed my own mother, so there are excuses, of course. I might have reason to pick it up for real this time. I need to be alone, though. That way I don't have to pretend. At least not for anyone else. I'm still working on pretending for myself.
Another thing I notice though, now that the sheet is configured differently, is that the Spells and Skills all have a "Novice" designation next to them. I'm not stupid, so I understand that this is some sort of hint that Aethos had been right about this being only the beginning. The Skills may sound amazing, because they are, but they're not end of the road. My soul isn't dense enough yet to handle anything seriously end-game, nor am I sure I even want to be this warrior-tank guy. Yeah, I like to fight and, yes, I like to forge, but I'm not sure killing those men isn't going to affect me harder down the line.
I'm very good at compartmentalizing. I don't even have to do it myself most of the time, actually. It's hard for me to feel things in the moment except for anger or irritation, most of the time. I don't remember feeling joy for any length of time, anyway. I do know, however, that my childhood still sneaks up on me. I still wake up covered in sweat, sobbing, shaking. Remembering those nights I wished someone would come and save me. Wished he would stop hurting me. Cried for my mom while he did it. I'm not even sure he remembered, honestly.
I don't know that I'll ever get over it. Get past the rage of it. Come to terms with it. Hell, I can't even talk about it to myself most of the time. I actively go out of my way to avoid the memories. That kind of pain is something you can't really describe in full. It's a pool of boiling water hovering over you that's constantly in danger of bursting, regularly overflows, and somehow fills back up no matter how many times the water spills. It's not healthy to avoid looking at it, I know that, but if I don't I'm afraid I won't ever come back from that pain. I don't even know how.
It's for that reason I found out the System could erase my last name from view. It even offered, actually. I accepted without a second's hesitation and a weight I hadn't realized was on my shoulders, a weight I don't even know I could identify if I wanted, slipped off my chest. Sytoria must have felt something from me a few times during the walk because I notice her looking over her shoulder a few times, her face devoid of emotion but her scent curious and perhaps a tinge concerned. I'll definitely be appreciating this sense of smell for the rest of my life here, I'm certain. I don't have to rely on my ability to read someone if I can literally smell what they're feeling. I don't even have to manually decipher it, either. It's just there. The meaning. As soon as I register the scent, my brain provides the context. It's like a gut feeling but in a more logical, concrete way I can't describe. It's not something I've ever experienced anything similar to.
She doesn't say anything, though. Just keeps marching toward a large stone building that reminds me of a castle.
The town itself is beautiful in its simplicity. Every building is made of the same stone the walls are made out of, but in a more personalized way. Some are two stories, some one. Some have balconies with small stone chairs positioned in front of the ledge. Some have pointed roofs, some circular. A few even have gables, which I find interesting. The only other thing they all have in common beside the material, at least as far as I notice, is the plant-life. Each structure is covered in vines, flowers, shrubs, and any other number of different types of plants. Some even have vegetables and fruits growing off their walls. It's as if the plants were allowed to overgrow the town itself, though it doesn't look unkempt in any way. If anything, it adds to the beauty of the place. As if it's a town designed by garden fairies and they grew it with a palpable sense of love. I can feel the happiness and general sense of good coming from the place. It's jarring, to be perfectly honest.
The people here like each other. They care about their neighbors in a way I never personally experienced on Earth. It makes my chest tighten with sudden sadness, for some reason. Something akin to grief, perhaps? I don't have time to examine it now, unfortunately.
"Where are we headed, exactly? I know I just kind of followed you, but I would appreciate some information. Conversation. Anything, really," I say, suddenly breaking the silence that had accumulated since the gate. "Normally, I don't mind silence. In fact, I prefer it. Now, however, I'd like to know what's going on, what the plans are, why you're letting me in here, whatever you're willing to tell me, I suppose."
The four guards at my rear breathe in sharply, their scents a mix of surprise and ... fear? They're afraid of Sytoria? Or the fact that I'd spoken out of what they considered to be "turn?" Sytoria doesn't seem to feel one way or the other about my sudden barrage of questions. Her scent doesn't betray any sort of feeling at all, actually. Neutral, I suppose, if I had to put her emotional state to a word. Nonchalant? Like a seven on a pH scale of moods, I'd say. If anything, their reaction tells me a lot about what they think of her, not necessarily what she's like as a leader or individual. I'll withhold my judgements and opinions of her until I form them myself.
"We're headed to my office in the barracks. The Hole. It's the structure we're facing right now, though it's a bit deceiving as far as the true size of the place goes. You'll see when we enter. As for the rest, I've already told you. I want to have a conversation with you, upon the conclusion of which we'll discuss what your further options are. You've stated you have no way of getting, nor finding, home. I think it's only fitting that I, as a Major and a representative of the country of Azlan as a whole, assist in your immigration efforts. If that's the option you choose, of course."
So, in other words, she's saying "wait until we get into my office, the things I want to discuss with you aren't for the general populace to hear", for some reason. I barely refrain from rolling my eyes, honestly. And then my eyes widen and I nearly facepalm as hard as I can, because I just remembered something. Something so obvious I don't know how I didn't think of it.
Money. I don't have any. Nor had I checked to see if the men I'd killed had any, either. The robe I'd confiscated certainly didn't have any. Fuck. Great. I didn't ask about something arguably more important than food because, as far as I'm aware, you need money to get food. I don't know what's edible here, nor am I willing to chow down on a wild animal because I have no idea how to safely eat something like that. I'd imagine that with my newfound avian nature the risks of such a thing are largely mitigated but I still was human until an hour ago, basically. That sounds disgusting in too many ways to count.
Plus, I've never hunted a day in my life. Never killed anything before an hour ago, either. Kind of a zero to one-hundred scenario, that.
"Something the matter, Zed?" Sytoria's voice interrupted my musings and I scratch at the back of my neck, embarrassed.
"Oh, nothing. I just realized I have no money and that I have no idea what kinds of things are edible here, nor how I would even prepare any of it. I won't lie, I've lived a privileged life in that regard." Only in that regard, really.
Sytoria nods. "I figured as much considering you'd stated you were captured without any clothing. I'd probably be more worried if you did have money on you." She smirks. She actually smirks. I'm surprised, but I'm still less surprised than the guards behind me. They actually audibly go, "huh?" Sytoria finds that less amusing, however, her expression locking down in an instant, ice in her voice when next she speaks.
"If you find it pertinent to make unintelligent noises, I'll give you some unintelligent tasks to carry out instead. Is that understood, rank?" Rank? Like rank and file? Not private? Interesting, especially as she's a Major which leads me to believe that the ranks from Earth do translate over to Ackellia, somehow. Is it just an insult, then? I mentally shrug. I don't honestly care very much, not enough to interrupt anyway, though if I have the opportunity I'll bring it up later on.
The guards all say some version of, "apologies, ma'am," and then go back to being silent once more.
It's another few minutes of walking—Esh is pretty sizeable, honestly, now that I'm inside of it—before we make it to the building Sytoria had referred to as the Hole. It's even bigger up close, and just as beautiful. The greenery adorning the outside of the place giving it a very haikyo or naturalia look, but in a purposeful way not the reclamation way in which the words typically are used. It's beautiful. That's the best way to sum it up. My very heart agrees just looking at the place.
"I see you appreciate the architecture," Sytoria says, apparently having been watching my reaction. Her face is neutral but her scent says she's proud. So weird. How do you smell proud, brain? Tell me that.
"It's beautiful," I reiterate out loud this time, unable to keep the awe out of my voice.
"You haven't seen the inside yet," she says mysteriously, though her pride swells as the as-of-yet seamless stone wall begins to shake. My eyebrows raise in surprise as a door-shaped section of the stone collapses into the ground before our very eyes, leaving me staring into a building that is definitely bigger on the inside. I feel like one of Doctor Who's companions all of a sudden.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"Is this some sort of illusion?" I ask. Obviously the answer is magic, somehow, but I don't know in what way it's magic.
"The Lieutenant Colonel who built this place worships Yrgra," she looks at me for a second, sees that I recognize the name—thank Aethos for that—and continues. "She enchanted the inside of the building with obvious effects," she says, gesturing inside with a wave of her hand, "No illusions."
"Oh, wow. She must be crazy strong," I whisper, genuinely awed.
"She would be pleased to hear you say such a thing," she supplies, still somehow maintaining a perfectly straight face despite all that pride I detect. The pride is more full, now. It encompasses more. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why. I don't say anything, though. That would be awkward and I might be autistic enough to have done that a time or two, but I also know that not a single time has it gone well for me to bring up something I've noticed that perhaps other people haven't.
"You could probably fit a town in this building," I say, edging closer to the opening. She hadn't told me I could go inside yet and I don't want to make her angry. The thought that she could probably just crush me with the ground or the literal walls without even moving is terrifying. I haven't missed the fact that the stone is moving as a result of some sort of Spell. She's the common denominator between the gate and this doorway, after all.
"Indeed," she replies. "Shall we enter, then?"
"Uh, yeah, lead the way." I step back away from the door to allow her ahead of me, taking in the rest of the building as I follow. I'm not kidding when I say it is easily as large as the surrounding town. The room that we enter immediately is as large as the outside square, filled to the brim with tables upon which any number of books sat, workstations where people seemed to be carving small symbols into various pieces of material, cordoned off sections where small children seemed to be learning. This area seems to be the town's common area for professional use. There are a lot of people inside. All manner of people, too.
Humans, dwarves, elves of different skin colors—some of which were Dark Elves, but I don't know the exact terminology for the rest of them; I didn't really go through the race choices as much as I probably should have—orcs, dragonkin, a few Vygar, and so many others I don't know the names of. The Vygar look just as cool as Aethos had made them sound, despite the fact that they didn't want me to pick that race. I don't feel regret, exactly, just a general sense of the fear of missing out, perhaps?
Silly human emotion, my mind suddenly tells me. Not literally with words, but a general wave of emotion that hits my body. Huh? "Silly human emotion?" What the hell, brain?
Then I realize that I'd been calling humans humans since I'd settled into my new body. I hadn't once considered myself human other than to refer to myself as a former one and to ponder the fact that hunting and eating fresh kills sounded gross because of those remnants. Yet that's what I had considered them even then. Remnants.
I don't identify with being human anymore.
For some reason that I can't put into words, distress washes through me. Genuinely, I'm not sure why. I hadn't been connected to my body before, really. I was a human because that's the species I'd been born to. I was a boy because that's what my body'd been born as. I never identified with any of those things very strongly. I'd probably have been just as disconnected had I been a girl, or some other race. I never felt like anything. Just a consciousness in a, as Aethos put it, "container." The container didn't matter to me, but it was the container I'd been handed. I didn't have any desire to change the container, mind you, but I didn't exactly have any strong feelings toward it either way.
"For someone who purports that nothing is the matter save for lacking money, you experience introspective distress quite often, it seems," Sytoria says suddenly and I realize we'd stopped at some point during my mental detour, as it were. I'd been staring out at everyone, not paying attention to anything, just following along and somehow hadn't realized that we'd all stopped. I can't be sure for how long, either. Thankfully, no one else is staring back at me, as they're all either too far away to give us any real notice despite Sytoria's presence or they simply don't find our presence that interesting.
"Oh, um, I'm sorry. Don't worry about it. Let's just keep going," I say, not really wanting to have this chat with anyone, least of all someone I literally just met, especially because most of it isn't something I would even know how to translate so that I could actually talk about it without giving away literally all my secrets. I'm not good at lying, really, even if I know how to do it. It's not automatic. It's a manual thought process. My brain kind of defaults to oversharing or silence. Not much in between.
She looks at me for a bit longer, her scent betraying her increasing curiosity surrounding me, though not in a concerned stranger way. More in a "what an interesting little puppy" kind of way. Like I'm a pet who's particularly entertaining. Probably because she's just that much more powerful than I am and thus my personhood is intrinsically considered less in her eyes. It's similar on Earth. Those in power tend to view those with less or none as less than human in order to justify the ways they treat them. To make themselves feel better about doing things any sane person would consider heinous or disgusting. They shift it in their minds so that they're suddenly doing these things not to people—not to men, women, and children—but instead to savages or animals.
It's one thing to kill an animal; it's another thing entirely to kill a person.
She doesn't say anything else, though, just leads us out of the main corridor and into another. This one is just as large, though I immediately see why the place is called the Hole. The room is one large open area with absolutely no floor. Instead, the walls are lined with a spiraling staircase that leads upward into the higher parts of the tower-shaped, village-sized building, but it also heads down. So far down, actually, that I don't immediately see the bottom.
I can see incredibly well. That means the Hole is more than a mile deep at the very least. What the hell are they keeping in here that they need such a big area of dug out space? Or did it simply get formed that way by whatever magic the Lieutenent Colonel had used?
"How did this place even come to be? Did the spell expand the inside once the building was in place and then you had to dig this out from there, or did it allow for a finer manipulation of the expanded space so that she could put what she wanted where she wanted? I guess what I'm asking is did this place get built by hand, or with that Spell she used?"
"The Lieutenent Colonel expanded the inner portions of the building once the walls were erected. This left us with one significantly large field of grass inside a now much larger building. We then utilized various Spells and Skills to excavate this portion, design and form the rest of the area, and then make smaller changes here and there. This building itself, as you may have noticed, contains more space than the entirety of the surrounding area inside the walls."
"I can't help but to have noticed, as well, that there are certainly not enough houses built outside to house everyone I've seen in here, so I'm assuming there are residential areas inside this place?" I ask, still looking around at everything even as we ascend the staircase. How had I heard the guards go and get Sytoria, as well as the proceeding movements, all from outside the town walls when this place is so huge? I knew my hearing was incredible now but this is something else. I suppose I was hearing all these people, but just attributed it to the surrounding citizens without paying too much attention to the disparity.
"You are correct. That's what a large portion of the underbelly of the building is dedicated to. Some of the residents of Esh prefer to live on the outside, which is their right, but the majority of Esh's population resides in here due to the significantly increased chances of survival in the case of a Confluence." We pick up the speed as we move upwards. Sytoria still seems to be moving exactly as she had before, as if she were taking a leisurely stroll up the stairway, but the speed she's climbing is akin to an Earth Olympian's dead sprint. I'm able to keep up without too much trouble, though I certainly don't look as graceful as she does.
I'm taking the stairs three at a time in small leaps that, admittedly, are quite fun. I feel like I'm on the moon with how easily I'm completing the motion and how much air I'm getting when one leg pushes off one stair and I'm quite immediately pushing off another stair with my other leg. My body is more powerful now than I could ever have fathomed on Earth. This kind of strength would be more likely in someone ten times my current size on Earth.
Muscle density alone must account for a lot of my ability to take damage. Subtly poking at one of my chest muscles, I feel like I could probably take a bullet point blank without it doing more than breaking my skin. That's even without any Skills. I haven't tried out [Tough Skin] yet, but I'm essentially a Monk-Tank-Brawler hybrid but better than all of them combined. I'm fucking awesome!
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Sytoria remarks, her voice coming out smoothly, no hint of being out of breath at all.
"How are you telling what I'm feeling?" I ask, figuring it has something to do with this Aura she's exuding. Some [Soul Sense] ability I don't yet have. I mean, I have my nose now, apparently, to do that job, but until I have it myself, I won't know how much better one is than the other.
"It's different than how Zenithals do it, if that's what you're wondering. When you develop your Aura further, you'll start to be able to feel the fluctuations of the souls around you when it's not retracted. In different company, it would be rude of me to have mine so flagrantly extended but, considering I'm in charge of Esh for a multitude of reasons when the Lieutenent Colonel is away, I have no need to be polite. As such, I can feel your soul and get a pretty general sense of your mood based on those fluctuations."
"So my soul tells you what I'm feeling, then? I didn't have any levels before I killed those men that kidnapped me, so I don't really have any idea what the capabilities of the soul are as it grows in power, if I'm being honest."
Her scent grows curious again. I can tell she wants to ask a lot of questions about my circumstances before coming here. I'm going to have to think of a way to explain without lying too flagrantly because apparently she can tell that with her Aura, in addition to my mood. It seemed to be fine when I was being vague outside the gates, but she could also just have been humoring me. There's no point in worrying about the exactitudes; I just need to have something prepared.
"In a general sense, yes. I'm aware that Zenithals have a very keen sense of smell, one that gives you a pretty specific idea of what someone else is feeling based on the pheromones that someone releases, similar to the Canidae Family, actually. Fortunately, a Zenithals' sense is even stronger than that of any creature under that umbrella. Possibly because of the Air affinity your kind is native to. The ability of the Aura to sense another soul and thus their emotions is a learned one, not born of the System as such, at least not how I'm doing it."
We're almost at the top of the staircase, at this point. I hear others speaking rather animatedly about the upcoming Confluence, some saying to expect it within the next few days and others that the ambient Essence levels are much too low to suggest any kind of Confluence for at least another month. One person in the room is just repeating a single sentence— "Is everyone I work with an idiot?" —over and over under their breath instead of contributing to the conversation at all. Others still are arguing that those without some type of Mana Manipulation ability shouldn't be talking about what they think constitutes the proper levels for a Confluence in the first place, but that there is no set level that means a Confluence cannot take place underneath it.
I'm still impressed by my newfound ability to compartmentalize everything I'm hearing in a way that allows me to focus on certain sounds while retaining the ability to hear the others and still not go into some sort of meltdown over the sensory input. Come to think of it, I haven't had any inkling of a meltdown since coming here triggered by sensory input.
I can't say I won't have one, or that I won't have one based on other forms of stimuli, but it feels different. I feel less overwhelmed despite the significant increase in my ability to interact with the world around me. Especially since I'm coming directly from a very traumatic experience. Several of them, to be more exact. If this were Earth and I was human, I would have been stuck back in the forest with my hands over my ears, rocking back and forth, trying to sooth myself in a way that allowed me to think again.
Now, though? I feel fine. Definitely not any more social than I was, but I feel fine. There's nothing wrong with needing any of that stuff, and I had gotten used to the inconvenience of sensory overstimulation, but it was still an inconvenience. For me and for others. Definitely more for me, but I don't really want to have to deal with all that when I might get murdered at any point by some magically spawned Beast, whatever that is, or someone who decides they don't like me or something. I'm hoping it stays like this.
"Can I learn to use my Aura before a certain level or is it locked until I get stronger, or something?"
"You could do it now, yes, since I can tell you are not level zero any longer, as you've confirmed, though your ability to manipulate it is somewhat dependent on how much of it there is to manipulate in the first place. The denser your soul is, the more you have to feel and the better overall you'll be able to manipulate it. That isn't to say you cannot practice, nor that you wouldn't be able to utilize the applications of a higher skill level, but typically that is how it works. Anything else is abberrant. Again, however, it does happen."
"How do I start learning to manipulate my soul, or my Aura? Is there a difference between the two?" I remember Aethos talking about the Aura and how it's the excess density of the soul that is being manipulated, but different perspectives are good, too.
"You Aura is the manipulable portion of your soul which can extend past the boundaries of your body. You don't technically have one at level zero because there is no manually manipulable density. Level one, which you must already know considering you've reached it, is reached as soon as the density of your soul increases past its baseline, at which point you gain what is known as an Aura."
She turns to look over her shoulder at me as we reach the top of the stairway.
"As an aside, there is no percentage threshold for level zero the way there is for the other levels because zero indicates no extra soul density while level one indicates some. The difference lies therein. To answer your question, you must first learn how to feel the density of your own soul, then you must learn how to make it move, and then you must learn the dexterity necessary to utilize it in a more complex manner."
"So more introspection, then. Meditation, more specifically?" I ask. I had had the same thought earlier, but this is a perfect opportunity to confirm it. Sytoria nods.
"Yes, exactly. Meditation is a perfect way to gain the familiarity with yourself necessary to begin utilizing your Aura beyond the baseline provided by the System. If you are to grow, it is a very essential skill to have."
The hallway she leads the guards and I down is short. It's perhaps ten feet wide and leads to a single stone door, somehow as purple as Sytoria's hair. She stops just outside of it, turns around, hands still behind her back as they had remained the entire journey, and faces the five of us.
"Alright, Zed, this is my office. You four may leave now. Stand at the end of the hall and make sure we are not disturbed. Understood?"
"Yes, Major Sytoria, ma'am!" The four guards bellow. There is no accompanying salute the way I would have expected from members of a military, however. Perhaps they don't share that custom, despite the ranking custom similarity?
In any case, the guards carry out her order, leaving Sytoria and I outside her office. The door slides inward and to the right, revealing an office that does not match her outward personality at all.
It's filled to the brim with small stuffed animals.
Interesting, indeed.