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Wrath of Man
Introspection

Introspection

Jon, awoken by the subtle noise of birds chirping outside of the walls to his apartment, he stirred within the comfortable sheets that felt albeit alien. The man toiled within his thoughts, without even opening his eyes before the cracking sunlight beamed him into a more conscious state, sitting upright - the tight coiling of his muscles in what felt like the coils of suspension, poised to release their state. A groan escaped the man, sinking from the bed onto the cold stone floor with the electric realization that he was no longer in his apartment. A deception, made to look like his own was employed to ease his mental state along the route to some request behest of his savior.

Opening his eyes to reveal the illuminated pop-up when he had drifted into a lull of sleep, his vision sharpening as he squinted into it, using his fingertips to rub out the residual exhaustion. He’d climb back into the bed, turning on his waist to fixate on the screen.

* Welcome to your tutorial, are you ready to begin? •

* Yes • No •

“Nothing feels too specific, yet it feels so real .. I don’t ..” His mind began to wander from the scenario that perhaps this was not some afterlife or interpretation of it, his senses felt normal if not a bit elevated with sharper hues of color and more depth to the sound that entered his ears. Hesitantly, Jon brought forth his digit to press against the screen - it felt intangible, understanding yet beyond his ability to touch all the same.

* Yes •

* Your tutorial will now begin - please set time aside to listen. This is an automated recording and will not answer questions that you may have. •

The pop-up which was within his hand’s reach slowly scrolled down as every word appeared to highlight itself before returning into the group of text, adding to the paragraphs it could potentially hold before a single ‘Next’ key was available for him beneath the descriptions. Tapping his finger against it once more, it began to open another screen.

* Please familiarize yourself with your player sheet, this will have current stats. A vitruvian display will give you real-time bodily injury. Green is a healthy, uninjured state. As it progresses into yellow, the injury will be more apparent. A red display is a critical injury which may need to be tended to. A black display shows a lethal injury which requires immediate attention, prolonged or extensive black displays may lead to death of the player. •

A sudden pause was brought about, Jonathan’s fingertip nonchalantly hovering over the ‘Next’ key as if he didn’t just come across information about a perhaps deathly experience. He’d grit his teeth, momentarily debating over continuing to read through the information but against his better judgment he’d press on. Shakily dropping his fingertip against the button which continued to describe his situation.

* You may open or close this menu at any time by speaking through your mind ‘Status’. •

* Character Sheet •

* Jonathon White

* Level: 6

* Race: Otherkin

* Stats •

* Strength: 8

* Endurance: 6

* Agility: 7

* Mind: 12

* Health: Uninjured

* Mana: Full

Jon continued to scroll through the text and description of his character sheet, a very morbid look upon his visage as he was debating if this wasn’t death but indeed a significant brain trauma from the accident. “I’m probably drooling over myself, tubed and on life support. None of this makes any sense, what, I just get abducted and I’m just supposed to roll with the fact I’m pulling straight out of some MMO?” Raking his fingertips through the tresses of his hair, he’d notice the tattoo on his right arm. The extremity that had gripped Uriya’s in an exchange, still laced with an artwork that felt foreign. Hell, everything was foreign where he was.

A few more menus were available from his character sheet, Inventory, Spellworks, Martial Skills, Status and Effects. Scrolling about through them, he’d find nothing short of any information that felt reliable until he came across the vitruvian display, green upon all limbs. Flicking upon the display until he fell upon ‘Passive Effects.’ He’d squint, curiously at the words available to him.

* Mark of the Mage-Lord: You’ve been marked by Uriya Delarin. You are directly linked with the Mage responsible for the mark. Your arcanum density has increased. You are immune to psychic levied attacks that are weaker than the Mage’s ability to defend against them.

“.. Wish I knew what any of that meant, but that’s okay - I guess.” Hands went about in an effortless toss to either direction as he’d grip the robes he had obtained the previous evening and began towards the door. “Okay - open this door, wake up from your coma.. Open the door.. Wake up..” He’d grip the handle, a sharp breath as he pulled on it with a distinct noise of suctioned air that had isolated him. Widening his eyes to what was before him.

Before him was an unsettling column of water, about four feet in height, it had some projected arms and legs and moved about in a slug’s fashion. Sloshing a thickened water against the ground and scooping it back into itself as it continued on its way past him. The creature was humanoid in shape, besides for everything else about it that wasn’t human. Dark cerulean in color, with an uncomfortable thickened consistency, reminding Jon of oobleck. Was it cleaning the door? Sinking its odd shape into the cracks of the stone and pulling pieces of debris and dirt with it as it went about?

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Seriously? What the fuck is that?”

“You’ve never seen an Elemental?” Red, inquired - his hand lazily draped about a piece of toast that seemed smeared with a jam.

“WH-” In response to being startled, he’d throw his hands up, knocking his knuckles off of the border of his door. Sinking into the floor in discomfort, gripping his hands.

Red observed the oddity, biting into his toast. The sound of the lightly recooked bread mixed with the odd ‘slopping’ noise that the elemental offered the blissful silence.

After a pat on the back, a shower and an additional slice of toast - Jon was redressed from his bathrobe into something that was apparently more compliant with a dress code. A silk shirt, and draping pants of a comfortably weaved cotton. His shoes were composed of leather, an artisan’s craft for something that didn’t seem cheaply produced to be consumed en masse. “What do you mean I’ve been out for three days?”

“Well, it normally means exactly how it sounds, you’ve been asleep for a few days Jon.”

“We could do without the nibble of sass, you know.”

“You could, but I’ve never seen anyone doggy paddle in fright when they saw an elemental sweeping floors.”

He wasn’t wrong, not something that Jon was used to, but Red had a point that he had overreacted to a creature that did not appear inherently hostile. The two had wandered through the hallways in their chat before arriving within a central room, the widened architecture and amethyst decor was a smooth transition to the previous empty hallways, littered with torches. The drapes were in company with pictures of Mage-Lord's past that had owned the land the home was based on. “The atrium, before the ‘throne-room’ as one would say.” Red gestured towards the double-doors on the far, seeming to stretch a bit too high for even him.

“Normal flair, yeah?”

“Yeah, sometimes we have guests that still bow through it but that’s no big deal for them. Most castles weren’t built to house the oddities of races. Racial divide and the like.”

“I’m not surprised that racism is universal..”

Settling into his stride, the doors began to creak as Jon pressed his hands against the wooden frame. Parting them to the side as he stepped before an elegant throne room with an example of confusion that felt ethereal. The ceiling of the room was pitched into a depth of darkness that devoured light bouncing into it, while the twinkling emanating from the makeshift stars pierced through. Straight out of his fantasy, there she was - perched upon a throne of crystalline structure that was far too dark to be diamond, yet radiated with a power that expanded into the very walls of the room. Thrumming with her presence, Uriya stood to address the pair who entered. A look of frustration apparently smudging her beautiful demeanor.

“How’d it go with the noble houses?” Red inquired, stepping forward with an amused look against him. That smile

Uriya’s voice offered a hint of frustration as she followed the steps from her perch to arrive on the same level as Red. The robes of the ‘Mage-Lord’ in question had changed from her scholarly robe to an oddly promiscuous attire. Darker satin colors made the majority of the scheme with golden adornments upon the edges of the fabrics. Her midriff exposed only coming together against her breasts with cords of the jewelry attaching the length of a skirt that fell just above her knees. Two draping satin displays fell from her back near the waistline, creating a billowing display as she walked.

“The same as always.” She’d speak with a grating frustration that skewed beauty, her lips and features contorted to a modicum of fury yet to be unraveled. “That snowy-haired pipsqueak continues to consume all their attention, she flashes her lil’ tomboy smile and it's like the gathering of old men and their sons swoon, drool and then fall.” As she continued to walk towards both of the men standing in their similar regal attire, she’d stroll past them with an outstretching of her hand. “Magi manus.” The pseudo-latin filled Jon’s ears, a puzzled look overtook him as the familiar staff came rolling from the throne into her direction and settled gracefully into her grip.

“Mister White -- I’m sure you’ve plenty of questions, and I’ll do my best to accompany them as need be. I know this may seem very overwhelming, a new world, a new life .. Nothing is as it is. You’ll come to find that your expertise will be of great interest to the factions, the kings, and the despicable.” Uriya appeared to be speaking from experience, her fingertips toiled against the metallic shaft of the staff as she’d bring forth the crystalline head. “Heroes will attempt to convince you and villains will attempt to manipulate you for otherworldly knowledge. Be vigilant and wary of whom you converse or find yourself enamored by.”

“Why did you bring me here, Uriya? What purpose could I serve in a world that isn’t my own?” The man’s wariness admitted with a soft frown, glancing into the Mage-Lord’s inspective fixation.

“You fit the mold of what is required to perform such actions, we made a deal to save the life of your friend. I will have assumed that your best fit is here. Away from a country that has become self-consumed in itself, rising financial discrepancy, atrocities against her people. A divide that will never mend, and a family that refused to accept you.”

Jon’s eyes widened for a moment, he’d go to speak but felt the catch in his throat will him to a stall, the Mage-Lord fixed herself towards him. The audible tap of the base of the metallic staff into the ground resonated with a form of appeal. “Your soul is an open book when you place it within someone’s hands, I know every single person and their thoughts, desires, fears and hatreds ..”

Uriya guided Jon and Red in tow, leading them to the front of the atrium. With a will of her hand and a short-phrased comment into its direction, the massive oak structures began to creak and urged forward to expose the landscape before them. A lush green rolling field that extended into the mountainous terrain closer towards the horizon. Spattering of trees and dense pockets of off coloured fields, within the distance was a village with multiple bits of smoke rising into the skies.

“Your world lacks order, unity. Mine appears to have fallen into a similar disarray. Your body made of mine has symbolized you as my family, my responsibility, Otherkin -- as the factions appear to so delicately call my children..” The woman’s words spit an annunciation of spite with the comment, beckoning Red forward as he heeded with a careful examination of her gestures. “You’ll be allowed to rebuild your life here, or return to Earth so you wish when your time within my service has been expended. My mission is to instill the order within these lands, backwood savages have taken power and reign over others with brutality. .”

Jon’s compliance felt willing, listening to the direction without a second question. Carefully, the brilliant eyes he possessed offered a glance away from the scenery. “How do I do that? I’ve never been in a fight in my life, minus that one time I got jumped at a bar but that was less of a fight and more of a scramble for the door. .”

Dropping her hand within the confines of a satchel, the magus produced a small wooden stick that appeared to be visibly twisted and tightened - reinforced upon the touch, it felt more ceramic than wood when laid into Jon’s accepting hand. A crystalline piece adorned at the top of the item glimmered. “Easy, Red here will be teaching you magic.” A flash of amusement crossed her visage.

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