by David Burke
“So, how long did you serve Krig for?”
“It was my turn to serve him for one century. The terms of our deal required that one of us meet his needs as a personal servant, a liaison for a century at a time. I had served him for nearly ninety-four of those years before he passed the mantle on to you,” Hilde answered.
“Yeah, that’s right. I remember you saying something about a deal. How did that come to be?” Kyle asked.
“He appeared on my home plane. It wasn’t frequented often by the gods, as our essence type is considered to be raw or unrefined essence. But not Krig. He saw us as another place to test his might. The battle raged on for weeks as he brought his forces into our realm. Slowly, he wore us down. Even mortal ants, if directed properly, can bite. Eventually, he brought his own might to bear. He struck down our queen and then declared himself our ruler.
“None of us had the might to stand against him, so a deal was worked out whereby we could satisfy him but not become a slave race. It was the only logical thing to do. We thought that we would be used to defeat others, but he never actually called upon our might. Most of the time, he depended upon his mortal minions,” Hilde answered.
“So you are almost done with your century of service. What will happen then?”
“I will be free to return to my people, although our existence there is different. There is a part of me that will miss this, although being trapped in the void chained to your mantle is infinitely worse. Maybe you will understand why I am anxious for you to move things along,” Hilde said.
“Okay, so one last question and then I will listen to what you think I should be doing. What happens if I don’t free you from wherever you are stuck within three years?”
“You would break the pact we have and lose the fealty of my people. Oh, and you would be without a guide,” she answered matter-of-factly.
“That is what I was afraid of. So, I best get to figuring this out,” Kyle said.
“I’m glad that we are on the same page. This is so odd. Celestials are sometimes tasked with helping reincarnated mortals, monsters, and even other celestials or fiends. It isn’t super common, so I have never had to do it before, but the tales I have heard have always been about how important it is to let the one you are guiding know who is boss.
“I hesitate to do that with you for obvious reasons. That said, you still need to listen to me. You someday may have far more knowledge and mastery of essence than I do, but for now, you are little more than a babe at this—you have both too little power, and too much.”
“What do you mean too little and too much?” Kyle asked. He had put his business cap on. No one in the clubhouse worked harder than he did. He studied every detail that he needed to succeed.
“Simple, you are practically oozing with essence for anyone to see. Mortals will fear or be attracted to you because of it, depending upon a variety of factors. Monsters will hunger for you so that they can grow stronger and possibly ascend. The same for celestials and fiends, except they are more likely to play a long game with you and look at you as a battery more than a meal.
By Dod’s hells, even a half-way talented human or elven wizard may be able to detect that you are more than you seem, even if they can’t say exactly what that is. If any of the demi-gods were to see you, they would risk their immortal souls for a chance to seize your mantle from you. And don’t even get me started on what would happen if any of your siblings found you,” Hilde said.
“I’m not sure that really explains anything to me. Are you saying that I have too much power inside me, so I’m like a T-bone to a junkyard dog, without any way to fight off said dog?” Kyle asked.
“If I follow the meaning of your strange expression, then yes. Now as I see it, you need three things. You need a place to hide until you are strong enough to defend yourself. Then, you’ll need a trainer who can teach you the ways of combat. That will not only serve to help you protect yourself, but should also help align you more to your mantle, as well as gain you more essence. And, last but not least, you need someone to teach you to speak the common tongue,” Hilde said, sounding as though she were a long-suffering saint for putting up with him.
“Why can’t you just teach me to speak it?”
“I’m not actually speaking it. All celestials and fiends are ultimately creatures of emotion. I am simply translating the emotional meaning. I have enough experience with this to make it fairly simple, but I can’t actually teach you the language. Even if I could, that is the work of a mortal,” Hilde replied airily.
“Well, I don’t know about hiding, but a couple more days of work at the quarry and I should have plenty of money to buy a house for us to live in. I don’t know where we will find a trainer though, but I think yesterday I demonstrated I already know how to swing my weapon. Maybe I should just go out and start hunting some monsters. Which reminds me, how do I gain more essence anyway?”
“Now he asks an important question. But I swear, if you think that thing you did in the quarry was swinging a weapon then I will just shut up and wait my three years while you rot. You do know that rock walls don’t move or attack, don’t you?” Hilde’s exasperation came through clearly.
At first, Kyle was taken back by the snark in her tone, but then he found he couldn’t stop laughing. He tried to keep it quiet so as not to wake his hosts, but eventually he thought back to her, “So what you are saying is ‘brick no hit back’? Can you say that in an Asian accent?”
“War God or not, I will not be mocked. Do you want to learn what you need to know or not?”
Kyle struggled to get his laughter under control. It really wasn’t that funny, but apparently the stress of first the World Series, then apparently being murdered and reincarnated, or whatever this was, had finally gotten to him. Finally, he said, “I apologize, Hilde. I guess I’m just not that funny. I’m used to everyone laughing at my jokes ‘cause I was buying dinner.”
“One thing that your former self was known for was not tolerating sycophants. You would do well to remember that about yourself. It is better to surround yourself with those who will tell you the truth rather than what you want to hear.
“Now, I will accept your apology this time and we will move on. You need to learn skills. As common sense should make clear, you can learn some skills by dumb luck and practice, but other skills will also require a teacher. A trainer can perhaps see the mistakes that you make even if you can’t. I saw in your memory that you had great respect for several men that all shared the name, or perhaps title, Coach.
“Then there is something called a Skill. These are ways of interacting with the world in a way that I didn’t see in your memories of Earth. But we can talk about those later, after you have learned the basics.”
Kyle could just hear the capital ‘S’ the last time that she said Skill. “So what you are saying is that I need to learn to walk before I can run.”
“Yes, something like that. As to your question about gaining essence, you will no doubt remember how I showed you your character sheet?”
Kyle nodded, even though the conversation was going on inside of his head. “Uh huh.”
“There are three things to see first. They include your typed essence, which is obviously War. As you can see, you are at 11/50. Then secondly, there is your Raw Essence. Finally, there is your conversion rate.
Think of your Raw Essence as the base energy inside of you. It controls some things, such as how long you will be able to fight and so on. These humans here mostly have twenty to thirty raw essence in them at a time. Some might have up to one hundred.
Then consider your typed essence to be what powers your Skills and Divine Abilities. It was War Essence that you used when you smacked the wall today, even if you did it instinctively rather than intentionally. That also shows you that essence can be channeled into a simple physical act, although typically only tier four beings and higher can do that. The limits on how much of that you can have at any on
e time is much lower, but we already talked about that.
As for your conversion rate, that is how quickly you can convert raw essence into a typed essence. So, for example, if you were to use a Skill which cost one point of War Essence then you would convert raw essence into War Essence in one second to replace that. Again, most trained mortals will have a conversion rate somewhere near one per minute, perhaps as much as five per minute.” Hilde stopped her lecture to make sure he understood.
“So, I have a lot more raw power than a regular human, and can use any Skills I learn with much greater frequency,” Kyle said.
“Yes, but before you get a big head, you should know that I expect any of your siblings would panic if their raw essence supplies ever fell below one million, and that they all have a conversion rate of at least ten, if not higher. It isn’t like they advertise those sorts of things though,” Hilde said.
“And how do I gain essence?” Kyle asked again.
“There are three primary ways. The simplest is that you can absorb it from the world around you. Given your nature, I expect that even in a low-density area such as this, you are still absorbing raw essence. There are many areas both on Verden and on other planes of existence where essence is much more plentiful. The only place where there is no essence is the void. And even vile creatures like fiends still rely upon essence to survive.
“The second most common way is to kill monsters and higher tiered beings. It is possible to absorb some of the essence from them. Just as with the high essence zones, the essence gained can be raw essence, or in some cases you may be able to gain typed essence, but that is rare.
“The third and most potent method, although the rarest, is to find artifacts or divine fragments. They can contain great amounts of both raw and divine essence as well as potentially imparting Skills or Divine Abilities, depending upon which we are talking about. Probably best not to worry about that right now, though. I believe you said it’s better to learn to walk before running. Well, you need to learn how to crawl first.”
“I don’t think it’s quite that bad. I’m sure this will come to me naturally. I will work for a few more days and then have enough money to buy a house, and we can go from there,” Kyle said.
“No, you aren’t listening to me. This is not a game. You can’t go back to the quarry—”
Kyle interrupted her. “I have to. I gave my word that I would.”
“Argghh,” she screamed in his head. “I can’t help you, if you won’t listen.”
Then her voice went silent. Kyle felt like she was suddenly very far away.
He waited for her to bitch him out more, but she didn’t say another word. “Hilde,” he called out. “Did I upset you?”
No matter how many times he called to her, though, she clearly wasn’t listening or at least wasn’t responding. He just had to hope that she would eventually return.
For now, he would try to get some sleep.
Chapter 7 - Digging for Trouble
The following morning, Kyle followed Lucas out to the quarry. He couldn’t help but notice the coliseum again. There was a pull that he felt, but he couldn’t say exactly what it was. It was just that he kept looking at it even over his shoulder as they headed down the trail to the quarry.
When they got down there, the rock he had brought down was still there and men were up overhead, dangling by ropes and working to create the ledges necessary to stand guard against aerial attacks. It was strangely quiet in the area. Perhaps only a tenth of the workers who had been there the day before had come back today.
Equally odd was the fact that there were soldiers stationed all over. He couldn’t ask Lucas about what was happening, because Hilde wasn’t answering. He had picked up a few basic words and thought he had the beginning of the understanding of some simple verb conjugations, but unless they were going to talk about the piss pot or blind mice, he didn’t know what they were saying.
When he reached the workstation, Darron and a couple of his assistants came running out. Well in Darron’s case, given his weight, it was more of a rapid waddle, but Kyle just watched.
“Lucas, Kyle, thank you… I… your money… you… I… you… work,” Darron said.
Kyle could only figure out a small number of the words. It kept going on and the fat man pointed to piles of rocks and a sled with chains attached to it. They had to tell him a dozen times, but finally he got the idea that they wanted him to pull the sled. It didn’t make much sense to him, but they kept asking.
He figured that if they needed his help hauling the rock away, that was probably a good thing. The more they needed him, the more money he could make from them. He balked when he was trying to pull on one of the chains and a man snapped the manacled end of another chain onto one of his ankles.
A moment before the man came at him, Kyle heard Hilde say, “Watch out.” But the warning came too slowly. A moment later, she was cursing in the back of his head, at him and everyone around them.
This was going sideways fast.
Kyle couldn’t think of any scenario in which being forcibly chained to a sled of rocks was a good thing. He swung his fist in an awkward punch which slammed into the man who had just shackled his ankle. The guy was in some type of leather armor, but even with armor and an awkward punch, there was the distinct sound of bones breaking when he slammed his fist into the man’s side.
He watched almost in disbelief as the target of his rage flew across the quarry like a ragdoll and then crumpled up against the pile of rock he landed on. There was no movement, but Kyle didn’t stare to make sure; he looked around to take in his situation as quickly as possible. Darron was speaking rapidly to another fat man who could just as well have been his brother. They were both gesturing at Kyle and the man he had just hit.
The newcomer waved and suddenly the soldiers who had been lazing around all stood up and moved at Kyle with spears at the ready. This had gotten ugly fast. Kyle wasn’t fool enough to think that, even with his strength, he could stand up to a squad of trained soldiers. It was definitely time to blow this joint.
In desperation, he felt power tingle through the back of his hands and once again the oversized pickaxe with a hammer head on the back end and the rune-marked black handle appeared in his hands. It was as though he had called it from nowhere. Quite exhilarating but, again, not something that he could stop and focus on at this time.
Instead, he slammed the pickaxe down into the chain connected to the shackle at his ankle. The chain shattered into so many pieces. He did notice that the chain was a dull gray that he associated with crude iron but the shackle on his ankle was perfectly shiny, like highly polished stainless steel. Again, though, nothing he had time for.
The soldiers with their spears slowed down as soon as the weapon appeared in his hands. They ended up forming a circle around him. Every time he moved towards one group they backed up while others harried him from the side. Yet they were all afraid to come within reach of his weapon. Seeing as the guy he had punched was still laying unmoving on the ground, it was likely well-founded caution on their part.
The man next to Darron kept yelling at the foreman and by this point his face was beet red, to the point that they were both almost spitting at one another. Finally, Kyle saw the new man wave and a pair of robed men came walking out of the small office at the far end of the quarry. Kyle didn’t know who or what they were but if robes meant wizards, he wasn’t gonna stay around to find out what they could do.
It was then that it dawned on him, he was going about this all wrong.
He didn’t need to go through a bunch of spear points, not when he could go over them. Kyle squatted down and bunched up his powerful leg muscles before springing up with the most powerful leap he could muster. He figured even his accidental leap had sent him up over a roof. So, he hoped that a full-on leap would let him clear the ring of spear wielding soldiers.
Sure enough, he was flying through the air, maybe not with the gr
eatest of ease, but he sprang more than forty feet into the air and soared right over the heads and extended spears of the soldiers to land close to the entrance of the quarry. There was no real plan in his head other than to escape. Everything else was predicated on getting away from this trap.
Good thing that, whether on Earth or Verden, Kyle Hudson was a fast runner. He pumped his legs and carried the pickaxe close to his chest. He could see the entrance to the quarry with its wooden gate. Even closed, though, the ten-foot wall really didn’t present an obstacle to him.
Then with no warning, he suddenly face planted into the rocky ground in front of him at high speed. He felt the tearing abrasion to his face, as his skin was ripped off and his teeth knocked loose. His left shoulder hit the ground hard, and he was pretty sure it separated even if it likely popped back into place right away.
There was no time for this. He had to get up and keep running. The pick had flown from his grasp, but he pushed up with his hands. The problem was that as soon as he got up, he realized his left leg was completely dead. It was like he had no control over it. For a guy who was used to treating his body as a precision instrument, that was freaky in and of itself. But for a guy running for his life, it scared the shit out of him.
He looked down and felt the shackle around his left ankle humming. Then, half a dozen guys fell on him, trying to pin him to the ground. Big mistake. He might be hindered, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. He Hulk-flexed and knocked off the guys trying to grab him while hobbling around on his one good leg.
One of the soldiers leapt back at him faster than the others. Instinctively, Kyle brought his elbow down on the back of the man’s neck while he leapt forward to try to encircle Kyle’s waist. Again, bone snapped and the man went limp. The impact from the now-dead body was enough to cause him to fall backwards off his one good leg.
A second later, Kyle felt a stabbing pain in his ribs as he got his first true introduction to melee fighting. The tip of a spear drove two inches into his side. Reflexively, he swung his arm down and snapped the haft in two, leaving the spearhead sticking out of his torso.
