by Ian Rodgers
“Twin Fang” Yorrik Vastonne, B-rank adventurer and a Ranger of Brune. Slim and tall with a mop of messy black hair, he wore reinforced leather armor that had certainly seen and weathered many years of battle. His weapons, a longbow and a pair of dual short swords, were on his back and at his waist as he enjoyed the food and drink of the Brass Beaver.
He was also the man the drunk from a few months back had tried to get into a bar brawl with.
“So, I was curious,” I began, pouring myself a small helping of wine from the bottle I had purchased when I’d entered the tavern, “you heard what the pants-strangler was ranting about?”
“Hmm? Oh, that crazy guy. Talking slimes. Pfft.” Yorrik wiped his mouth and started working on his platter of gravy slathered meat.
“Yeah, I was there. Punched him too. Surprisingly tough though for a non-adventurer. Took five hits to get him down for a few seconds. And then he just hopped up and tore off his trousers, screaming about his ‘mighty club.’”
I winced at that terrifying image. Yorrik noticed my shudder and nodded sympathetically.
“Gonna need a moment to suppress that,” I muttered, and Tara eagerly assisted in removing that memory from my mind.
“Right, now that that’s taken care of, I was interested in hearing what exactly the man was raving about.” At the adventurer’s incredulous expression I explained.
“I am a student from the Academy doing research on Oozes, their different breeds, and their habitats. I’m interested in the rumored ‘Talking Oozes’ merely as part of my scholarly thesis.”
“Huh. Well, it takes all kinds, I guess,” Yorrik said. “I don’t remember much, honestly. Everything around the time the pants flew off is a blur. But, one thing did stand out.”
I leaned in, excited. He did so as well, to build suspense.
“The guy said he knew the slimes he’d seen were real because he saw one of them stuff a roll of bread into their own bodies and dissolve it just like a regular slime!”
Well. That was certainly interesting. I made my illusory face raise an eyebrow.
“That it?”
“Pretty much all I remember, sorry,” Yorrik said apologetically.
I sighed but shook my head. “It’s fine. That was more information than I’d expected.”
One of the Guild’s clerks motioned towards me from the counter and I got up to see what it was all about.
“Mr. Jellik?” the teller at the job desk inquired as I approached.
“That’s me.” I heard Tara snigger softly in my head. I couldn’t see what was so wrong about my name! Honestly! The pseudonym I’d made for myself was just fine!
“Your request to take on the Promotion Quest has been approved,” she said, handing me a job receipt. I took it with a hastily constructed smile and bowed my ‘head’ politely before making it back to the table with Yorrik.
“Got the job?”
“And a pending rank-up!” I answered happily. The veteran smiled.
“Good on you. That’ll make you C-rank, right?”
I nodded. “I’ve been D-rank for about six months now. This seems rather fast to me.”
“C-rank is the most common adventurer rank there is,” Yorrik explained. “Doesn’t mean you’re weak or strong. It just means you’re at the level of a trained soldier, and can take on jobs from a wider array of options. It also means they trust you enough not to immediately die if you take a hard mission, or if events spiral out of your control.”
He swallowed a few mouthfuls of ale before speaking. “I almost didn’t take my B-rank promotion, you know.”
“Really? Why wouldn’t you want to rise in rank?” I asked, intrigued.
“An adventurer can make good, steady money with C-rank missions,” he stated. “Enough to support a wife and kid if someone takes maybe two or three a month. Fact is, adventuring is a job. Most people who take the higher promotions either want to try and earn knighthood and a path into the nobility, or are the heroic sort who like helping and traveling. Me? I wanted a decent income with minimal dangers.”
“Then why did you advance?”
“Oh, you know how the story goes. You meet a nice girl, she turns out to be a baron’s daughter, you need a knighthood to get her father’s approval. You know, stuff like that.” He took another swig and put the mug down.
“Sadly, I’m nowhere near close to getting a knighthood. Not many chances for outrageous acts of heroism in these parts. You’d think being closer to the Dullwilds would provide a bit more danger… ah well. Got plenty of gold saved up. Might be enough to buy his approval. Here’s hoping!”
He raised his mug and I toasted him with my bottle of wine, sharing in a moment of camaraderie.
We split up after a few more drinks. I headed to my closet-bedroom, ready to call it a night. Rosa was on my shoulder, looking tired and bloated. I tutted.
“I told you eating all those apples would do this to you. But did you listen?”
In response Rosa toppled off her perch and into one of my robe’s pockets. I chuckled and made sure to remove the garment and lay it across the foot of the cot instead of stuffing it and its contents into my Dimensional Pocket like usual.
Organic matter did fairly well inside me and lasted a decent amount of time without spoiling or going bad, as did magical substances, but I did not want to find out what happened to Feykin if they were put into a distorted realm of suspended animation I could control at will. Maybe for another experiment some other day.
‘I don’t have any appointments tonight, do I?’ I asked Tara.
~None that I am aware of,~ she replied after checking my memories for any commitments I may have agreed to and then forgotten.
‘Good. Finally, a chance to sleep early!’ I cheered as I shed my disguise and flopped onto the bed. I morphed back into my orb form and closed my senses, letting my mind drift about in dreams.
It was nice to have a chance to do this. I had a feeling my tranquility wouldn’t last long, though. So far, my stalker had done nothing while I was in Tywood. But as soon as I left, I expected them to make a move.
I was not going to be caught unaware and unprepared. I made one final mental note to head out to the woods and practice my more destructive spells. And get Rosa to work on her abilities as well.
~You know that trying to make her do anything she doesn’t want to do is like pulling teeth,~ Tara informed me. I snorted.
‘I am well aware that such a task is monumental,’ I replied with strong overtones of snark. ‘But if I phrase it like a game, and reward her for doing well, then I think I can manage her training.’
~True, bribery has worked before,~ Tara conceded. ~Very well. You seem to have everything under control. Enjoy your rest. I will see you in the morning.~
I let out an incoherent mumble and snuggled down into the cot in an attempt to find just the right comfy spot. Eventually I burrowed into it and let out a blissful sigh before descending into slumber.
I needed to be well rested after all. A full schedule awaited me!
Chapter 8: To tread upon stone
“Alright, let’s go through this again!”
(Yes!)
“Oh Divinity, protect the feeble flesh! Light Shield!” I shouted, my spell bursting to life in the form of a silvery barrier that surrounded me.
Light Shield was a Level Three spell designed to negate minor enemy spells, especially those of the Dark element. I used it to gauge Rosa’s abilities during our training sessions.
Because Fey were so magical, most of their abilities relied on direct attacks with magic. In order to teach her to fight against foes who could render her powers useless, I made her practice against anti-magic barriers and tricks.
With a determined expression Rosa raised her hands and poured her mana into the soil around her. Sharped spikes of stone erupted from the ground, trying to impale me where I stood. As soon as they touched the Light Shield they began to crumble, clods of dirt collapsing in a pile around me.
She wasn’t finished through, and the Carbuncle shot into the sky, only to slam back down into the ground, tiny fists pummeling the earth.
I felt the dirt shift below me, and jumped into the air just in time to avoid falling into a gaping pitfall. My barrier flickered and collapsed as the surface it had been constructed on gave way and ceased to be.
Rosa then darted forward, a wooden toothpick pressed against my ‘throat’ as I hovered in the sky.
“Excellent work, Rosa!” I praised, clapping my hands as I descended back to the forest floor. “And you kept collateral damage to a minimum! You’ve improved a lot!”
The ruby-bearing fairy rubbed the back of her head at the praise with an innocent grin on her face.
(I did good! Hurray!) she cheered. She floated down to the ground as well, and eagerly stuck out her hands. I chuckled fondly and removed a piece of honey glazed apple from my Dimensional Pocket as her reward.
“Now, let’s discuss a few things,” I announced, and she sat down on my shoulder. I then began to walk back to Tywood in my humanoid form. Practice makes perfect, and I was going to be around quite a few people in my capacity as a caravan guard whom I’d need to fool.
“First, I have to say your casting speed has improved. You can manipulate the earth and rocks around you as if they are a part of your body. That’s more than merely impressive.”
She bobbed her head as she munched on the fruit slice, listening to my words.
“Now, I think we should continue training with your swords,” I continued and she nodded and waved the toothpick like a sword.
“I know it was just a hobby for you, but it works. You might be small, but even a needle can be deadly if used right. And how many people would expect a cute little fairy to be a master swordsman? Or woman, in your case,” I hastily corrected. She didn’t seem upset though and simply gave a hum of agreement.
“We’ll need to get you a proper sword, though. For now, keep training with toothpicks and sewing needles. When we get to Arv Prith we can find a blacksmith who can make you a real weapon.”
(Can it be shiny? And made of mithril?)
I held back a choking gasp at the thought of the price. Mithril, one of the Three Sacred Metals, was outrageously expensive, and only the elves knew the secrets to forging and shaping it. That it was both lighter than steel and several magnitudes harder made it useful for armor and small weapons. But a single dagger cost well over a hundred gold. I did not have that kind of coin. And likely wouldn’t for a long time.
“We’ll see,” I said after recovering from my fit. “By the way, did any of you have any suggestions for my own improvement?”
~I believe you should work on improving your illusions. But I’ve been saying that for a while now. Other than that you need to be able to focus on multiple spells at once,~ Tara offered.
~You can easily craft even high-level spells, but only one at a time. Even if your casting speed is ridiculously fast, if you’re facing multiple opponents you’ll be caught off guard when they coordinate their attacks.~
“Makes sense,” I conceded, and made a mental note to look into that. I glanced at Rosa. “How about you? Any advice?”
(You’re strong. Very strong. So, you need to learn how to be weak.)
I tilted my ‘head’ to simulate confusion. “What do you mean?”
(You have too much magic in you. If you are not careful your mana will leak out and hurt the people around you. Making sure you don’t vent mana constantly is important to any mage as well, since you’re wasting energy by letting it pour out of you.) She finished off her snack before continuing.
(You’ve seen Headmaster Cantos, and felt his power. But it’s all bottled up. Contained and repressed. Perhaps the reason this stalker can find and follow you is because they have high sensitivity to magical energy. Or is a sensor of some sort.)
“How long have you been thinking about this?” I asked, impressed and disturbed. Impressed because it was one of the rare times Rosa showed off her maturity. But the subject matter made me more than a little worried.
(Ever since we started training. You use too much magic, just crudely shoving your mana into a shape when you cast a spell. You need better control, and part of that is learning how to suppress your energy signature. You’re like a bright light amidst a dreary world for beings like me who are attuned to magic. And you’re only growing stronger.)
“Tara? Did you know about this?”
~No, I didn’t,~ Tara admitted. The Spirit of Knowledge sounded embarrassed of the fact.
~I cannot detect magic, as I am not physically incarnated. I only know what I can take from books, and what I can glean from piggybacking off your own senses. Rosa is a Feykin, so it’s understandable that she knows more about this subject than we do. I’ll check my collection for any books about this topic. Though since this seems to be a problem with mages far above the average student’s talent, I doubt I will find much. Perhaps asking the headmaster when you see him next would be prudent.~
“Got it,” I agreed. I turned my attention back to Rosa. “Any ideas how we can start learning to suppress myself?”
She shrugged. (Magic is a very intent based subject for me, and I don’t know much about your chants and strictly taught system. I tell my mana about what I want to happen, and it does it for me. Maybe just think about keeping it contained? I don’t really know. Sorry.)
“It’s fine, you’ve helped me out already by pointing out a flaw I need to work on,” I said.
We broke through the tree line and the wooden walls of Tywood appeared before us. There were a lot more wagons and pack animals about, and I felt a tingle of anticipation.
Tomorrow I would begin my Promotion Quest! I could barely contain my excitement!
“Let’s go see if Yorrik is around. I want to have one last drink with him,” I declared as I entered the traffic heading into the gates.
(Yay! I like him! He gives me lots of tasty things!) Rosa commented.
“No alcohol, though! We barely kept you from destroying the tavern when you got drunk and started casting spells everywhere!”
She pouted, but relented. (That’s fine. I don’t like head-hurting that comes afterwards.)
I laughed and she kicked me in the ‘shoulder.’ I supposed I deserved that.
.
The next morning I was up and about early and busy preparing for the long road ahead. Alone, it would take a person between a week to a week and a half to go from Tywood to Arv Prith. In a large, slow moving caravan that timeframe doubled at the very least.
As such I was looking at maybe three weeks of travel, surrounded by strangers and junior adventurers who would not hesitate to attack me if they saw my true, monstrous form. No amount of pleading would prevent that.
And unlike Norhelm, if I was caught here I’d end up reported to the Adventurer’s Guild in a heartbeat and I’d have to spend time rebuilding a persona for myself to blend in.
To that end, I had spare clothes and rags in case my robe was damaged or made unavailable, a knapsack to store some of my things in since I couldn’t use my Dimensional Pocket willy-nilly, a few pieces of camping gear including a nice tent, and last but not least a charm I wore around my neck next to my adventurer tag.
It was a lucky find for me; a Token of Magical Empowerment. This was a special artifact that boosted the power of item enchantments and layered spells, and I was using it to improve the illusions that covered me. The Token resembled a brass disc etched with silver runes which glowed softly.
I had found it some time ago in a bandit’s den I had cleared out for a quest. Most of their stuff was junk or had to be returned to the owners, but I was allowed to keep the Token of Magical Empowerment as thanks for saving the rest of the client’s stuff.
I’d hesitated on using it until now though due to a simple fact; they only lasted a little while before being overwhelmed and cracking. At the moment, I could use the Token for a whole month before it was rendered useless
. That was plenty of time for my Promotion Quest.
After dressing I headed down to the lobby of the Guild with Rosa on my shoulder, who was behaving for the moment. I said my goodbyes to a few people I had come to know, including the clerk, and left with a few fond farewells offered to me as well.
From there I made my way to a large open space near Tywood’s wall. Known as the Gathering Grounds, it was used for parking wagons and carriages that were scheduled to leave the city, and as a meeting spot for the hired hands of any merchant or caravan to gather. Many cities and large towns had a similar set-up, so to me it was almost like I was back in Manatrem or Sanc Aldet.
“Are you Jellik the mage, D-rank?” a voice called out to me. I turned to face the speaker.
“Yes, that is I. Are you the head of the caravan?”
Before me was a beefy, almost portly, man in his late middle age, grey streaking through his beard and head. He wore clothes that were both suited for long travels but were also clearly well-made and likely expensive.
“I am. You may call me Torren. Come, meet the rest of the group who’ll be with us.”
He led me to the largest concentration of wagons in the Gathering Grounds where drivers, a few hired hands, and two junior merchants were waiting. I only recognized one of the people though.
“Yorrik, is that you?”
“Oh, so this is the caravan for your Promotion Quest! What a coincidence!”
I greeted the Ranger with a handshake. I wore gloves to hide my lack of body heat and managed to pull off the greeting without a hitch. He pulled back and gave me a scrutinizing look.
“You seem different. Less vibrant but possessing a stronger presence.”
“I’ve been studying how to suppress and contain my mana. Apparently, I’ve been letting it out unconsciously,” I said, lying while still telling the truth. I had not expected to see someone I knew. Especially someone who clearly could tell my illusory human form was now more defined thanks to my Token of Magical Empowerment.
