Mod tilted his head as if trying to make out what Noah had said. After a moment, he nodded in understanding. "Ah. That's what you call them. Unfortunately, I don't have access to that either. Even if your Trial works out and you make it to the point your time anomaly realigns itself, I don't think I'll be able to access those secret histories by myself. Plus, there's...another factor."
Noah slammed his fist on the railing, and the ethereal wood vanished into smoke. "So, you're useless."
Mod frowned, the cigarette burning up in a sudden flash of heat, disintegrating into ash between his lips. His voice was still Doc's when he spoke, but the tone and words came out much darker. "Kid, I've been around longer than your species has existed. I hold ancient and secret knowledge from distant stars. I've watched galaxies be ripped apart by upper dimensional beings. Don’t blame me. You just aren't very good at asking the right questions."
Vague memories—only images—flashed through Noah's mind of his time between his two lives. He nodded. "I've seen worlds shattered too, universes, even."
Mod opened his mouth and closed it, his eyes searching, probably through Noah's memories. "Huh. Maybe you have. I don’t know how your soul survived that ordeal."
It was now Noah's turn to frown. Did Mod purposefully land on the subject of my soul? The being that stood before him had just admitted he was older than the Earth. I can’t underestimate how much this thing is manipulating me. I have to be purposeful in how I talk to him. Noah had already reasoned that his unstable soul was probably the reason for his headaches that were growing worse every year. The headaches were becoming a problem. "Tell me why my soul is unstable and how I can fix it."
Mod eased back into his Doc persona, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it with a snap of his fingers. “Cancer sticks.” He chuckled. "Your friend had a good sense of humor. Anyway, I can't tell you about the instability of your soul because you’ve tucked that away somewhere deep. Right now, I just tried accessing that memory, but whatever happened, your mind is doing a damn good job of hiding that information. It was probably pretty traumatic. In regards to fixing it..."
He puffed out smoke that morphed into an exclamation mark. "You'll have to enter the Trial of the Archetype."
A trial, Noah thought. This must be the thing that will threaten my life. "And what happens if I don't stabilize it?"
The Modifier shrugged. "You'll live as you already were, but with your soul becoming less stable over time. You might even experience soul-death before the time anomaly resolves itself. What that means is your body would still live, but you’d just be a vegetable."
Noah gulped. "Time anomaly. You mean my rebirth."
"Sure, if that's what you want to call it," Mod replied with a dismissive wave of his cigarette. "Those who have gone through the Trial of the Archetype may experience soul-death. Everyone's Trial is different, even if they had the same orb, giving them the slight variations for their archetype. Some fight a monster and get eaten. Others traverse through a maze, never waking from their dreams."
"So," Noah said, exhaling slowly, trying to grasp all the information being thrown at him. "If I don't take this Trial, I’ll have blistering headaches until I become a walking vegetable. But if I do take this trial, I might still experience soul-death, but if it works out, I won’t have headaches anymore? Sounds like an easy choice. What's the catch?"
Mod smiled joylessly. "Well, you’re quick to make a decision, aren’t you? The catch is—"
The Modifier stopped and looked around warily, as if hearing something in the distance. For a quick moment, even though Mod wore Doc's face, Noah saw his eyes shift to something darker than black. The apparition sniffed the air and frowned before his attention focused back to Noah. "Do you accept the Trial or not? Choose now or leave forever."
The whole point of this new life is to protect my family, Noah confirmed to himself. I can't do that if I'm incapacitated from the headaches. Who cares what the catch is as long as I can stabilize my soul and not die permanently? "Fine. I accept the Trial."
The Modifier wasn't smiling anymore. He licked the cigarette and swallowed it. "Confirmed.” Mod snapped his fingers. “If it’s any comfort, I hope you survive your trial.”
Nothing happened. Noah looked around at the nothingness surrounding him expectantly. He made a face, and his eyes went to Mod for a reaction, but the Modifier seemed equally confused. Not-Doc frowned deeply, looking out into the ether.
Mod muttered, "Interesting," but he didn’t sound interested—he sounded shocked.
"Is this my trial?" Noah asked, still unsure of what was happening.
The Modifier's gaze shifted back to Noah, studying him, and the ancient being’s confused expression turned into curiosity. "That other factor I mentioned, before? That was another imprint. It looks like that imprint has accepted the Trial as well."
Imprint? Noah wondered. Who would have imprinted—what? No one who had touched the orb had been able to use it. Doc and Redford hadn't been able to. He had often wondered about Yusef, but the man had died while giving the orb to Noah. Then his eyes widened as he realized what might have happened. Kahlek, the Aelve, had touched the orb.
"Is it Kahlek?" Noah asked. "The Aelve?"
The thing with Doc's face seemed to suppress a grin. "I cannot confirm or deny that. Impartial party, remember? But it doesn't matter. You still have the Trial of the Archetype. The only difference is that both of you are taking the Trial, changing it in a way that affects you both equally and fairly. We’ve never had mutations like this before. This is a first, I think, to have happened in the Trial, so I don't think the system knows what to do about it."
Noah flexed his hands cautiously. "What does that mean for me?"
Mod tapped his finger on his lower lip in thought. "Just hold your horses, kid. Ah. There we go. Here is your trial. It looks like you two are splitting it, dichotomous-like. Alright, your trial starts now."
Noah braced himself. Would he have to fight monsters? He hoped not. Maybe it was a series of death traps. Either way, he instinctively understood that the Trial—whatever it was—had to be possible for they were created for whoever was imprinted on an orb. At least, that’s what Mod had implied. The situation gave Noah a sense of familiarity. Stories about young heroes facing down the personified versions of their fears and defeating them with cunning or a magic sword came to mind. Noah thought about all his fears, which were many, and how he would confront them.
Mod dropped the Doc persona and turned into an amorphous blob once more, growing several stories taller than before. He, or it, morphed into the head of a beautiful woman, the body of a lion, the wings of an eagle, and a snake for a tail.
"I have to fight a sphinx?" Noah exclaimed. He readied himself for the sphinx's attack, prepared to dodge or roll out of the way. The snake tail waved and flexed behind the body of the lion, snapping its viper-jaws.
However, instead of attacking, the sphinx lazily sat and spoke in a high soprano, cold and almost mechanical, chilling Noah's spine. "For this mutated Archetype, your Trials have been decided. Depending on your responses, you will be accepting all responsibilities of your dichotomous Archetype. If you fail to respond, you will be devoured."
Noah gulped. He didn’t completely understand but put effort into collecting himself. This is my mind, despite the trial. I can make anything I want here. He blinked, and a dozen tanks appeared around him, pointing their weapons at what had been Mod.
The sphinx gave Noah an impassive look, ignoring the tanks. "Your trial is now. Answer me, is it better to hear or to be heard?"
The surrounding tanks disappeared into puffs of smoke as Noah’s jaw dropped. "What?" he asked, caught off guard. My trial is a question?
The sphinx said, "The question will not be repeated. Answer or be devoured."
Noah opened his mouth to give the obvious answer: to be heard. He had spent an entire lifetime wishing he could just speak out against the cruelties of the world after the Shift, to r
ail against his parents’ expectations, and most of all, against his own inaction and weakness. If only he had had a powerful voice, he could have done the right things. He wouldn't have ever become Worm.
But he stopped himself. Was that what I wanted all along, to have a voice? Noah asked himself. Didn't I always have a voice…but just didn't use it?
Memories of his first life flowed through him. His parent's expectations had been the root anxiety that led to other fears later in his life, but hadn’t that been his choice to react that way, to let his fears fester? What would have happened if he had only spoken out about the matter? Nothing really would have changed, he said to himself honestly. I would have just said what I wanted to say and would have still acted the same way.
I blamed everyone else, Noah thought. They were all trying to help me, even Redford in his own messed up way. What would have my life have been like if I had listened to my parents and the advice of my friends and mentors before the Shift? It would have been a tougher road, but I could have come out stronger. I was just afraid of a potential future. Fear of failure was the problem, not my voice.
The first time he had really listened to someone had been after the Shift. It took months of short conversations, but Noah had found himself fascinated with Doc Broad’s perspective, his easy enthusiasm for hope, his endless curiosity, and his compulsion to involve himself in the lives of others. Noah had changed because he had simply listened to Doc.
After that realization, Noah didn’t hesitate any further. He smiled and declared. "It is better to hear."
The sphinx nodded in confirmation and closed its eyes. When it opened them again, white light poured out and enveloped the surrounding area, cascading over Noah. A lightning sensation rushed through him, and the song he had sung countless times in his mind echoed from his heart out into the distant darkness.
He knew then that nothing would ever be the same. His conviction to protect his family hadn’t just strengthened, it had suddenly grown, becoming more. Spending his new life to prepare his family for the Shift and the coming of the Aelves wasn’t enough anymore. Strength flowed through him like a mighty river.
I have power now, maybe even enough to change things. Noah thought of Doc Broad’s dream to connect humanity after the Shift, how if the people of America had united, much less the world, more people would have survived, and they might have had a chance against the Aelves and their terrible magic. Maybe I don’t have to send my parents to a fort. I can build one here in this town. The thought was powerful, profound, and Noah felt a confidence within himself he’d never truly experienced before.
Then suddenly, the light and strength faded as Noah was surrounded once more by darkness and silence.
Mod stood in front of him in Doc's form again, looking a little tired. "Okay. This means you're the Listener Archetype now. Huh. That’s a new one,” he mused. Then he spoke like a pharmacy tech rattling off the side effects for a prescription drug. “You two are the first dichotomy of an orb. Limited abilities will be afforded to you due to two factors, the first being the other imprint. Second, the orb has been damaged. Once the time dilation realigns, you will have access to more of your abilities. In this timeline, this moment should be close to what you refer to as the Shift. The nascent energies of the suppressors should help with that. You have now accepted all responsibilities of your Archetype."
Noah's eyes widened. He had so many questions and blurted out the first that came to mind. "What about Kahlek? What is an Archetype?"
The Modifier with Doc's face smiled sadly. "The Trial is done. The time for questions is over. Goodbye."
With that, the darkness faded away, and Noah opened his eyes.
Chapter 12
Noah woke up from the not-a-dream, examining all the glow-in-the-dark star stickers littered across his bedroom ceiling as he collected himself. He had wondered several times why the stars had changed after the Shift, and his research online had not yet yielded results. The alarm clock on his nightstand displayed the date, March 5th, 2025. It was two in the morning.
I can’t believe a couple hours passed in that dream. It felt like the whole thing lasted only twenty minutes! I hope I can meet Modifier again to get more answers. There's too much I don't know about the Aelves that would help my family if I were to get answers, Noah mused.
Now that he was getting his wits back, Noah’s heart began to race a little. He had passed the mysterious Trial of the Archetype, giving him new abilities. He sat up in his bed and rifled his fingers through his hair, eager to see his reward for passing the Trial. It didn’t take a lot of intuition to figure the screens would be involved, and he hadn’t been wrong.
Three screens appeared in his vision. The first two screens read:
The Listener
The wielder is now the Listener Archetype. By accepting the role of the Listener, the wielder has inherited the responsibilities and abilities of this Archetype.
Listener Stats
Agility: 1
Dexterity: 1
Defense: 1
Magic Defense: 1
Spirit: 2
Spirit Defense: 2
Magic: 0
Charisma: 3
Noah’s eyes widened, taking in all the new information. He reread the words several times before he finally set his gaze on the third screen. The last display wasn’t like the first two, which simply showed words and numbers. Instead, it held the image of a six-string acoustic guitar with only one string attached between the pegs. His hand went through the instrument when he tried to grab it, as if it were a hologram.
The guitar itself didn’t look ornate or have any distinct features, but when Noah’s hand passed through the frets, the string vibrated as if it were just strummed. Another screen appeared.
Listener Skills:
[Listening] (Passive): Maxed
[Stumble] (Passive): Level 1
[Harmony] (Passive): Level 1
[Jack of All] (Passive): Level 1
He sucked a sharp breath. “They’re abilities—it’s just like a game! Does magic display itself like this to the Aelves or is this because of me?” he wondered aloud.
There was no way for him to explore that question, but he felt like he might be on to something. When he had first seen English letters on the screens, he had assumed the orb had used whatever language he had felt comfortable with. After the Trial of the Archetype, it was no longer just a tool but had become a part of him. In his dream, Mod had even admitted to using the form of Doc Broad from Noah’s memories to make communication easier.
After his flash of excitement passed, Noah cracked his neck and let out a slow breath. “Okay. Let’s see what we have here. First, stats.”
He blinked away everything but his skills. Acting on his will, more screens appeared, each giving him descriptions of a single stat.
Agility was pretty straightforward, describing was how fast he was. Dexterity was simple as well, explaining how much control he had over his own body. This would help with things that required coordination.
Defense was how hard a hit he could take. Magic Defense was the same thing but with magic attacks. After reviewing this stat, Noah paused, realizing it proved he would have to face magic in the future. It had really been common sense, it was inevitable with the coming of the Aelves, but now it seemed more real to him.
He didn't know how he was going to raise the level of Magic Defense, let alone any of his stats, but it was definitely going to be something he'd invest in as soon as he could. Noah had seen the power of the Aelves, and Magic Defense would be a key stat to help protect himself against, to survive.
The Spirit stat was vague. ‘Spiritual essence’ was its only description. Noah wondered if the skill tree held abilities he would need spiritual power for, drawing on his own soul as an energy source separate from magic. Ultimately, this was just another question he didn’t have answers to.
Next he moved on to Spirit Defense. The description for this state was a bit more c
oncrete, pretty much in line with Defense and Magic Defense. Maybe reincarnating and fixing my unstable soul has something to do with my higher Spirit and Spirit Defense stats.
Noah frowned at his Magic stat. To his disappointment, it held a big fat zero. Some part of him wanted to be able to cast fireballs or use magic to fly and impress a bunch of cute girls…or maybe just one very pretty redhead.
His last stat, Charisma, was the most alarming, three times higher than his physical stats and even higher than his Spirit stat. The description for Charisma read that it was a unique stat specifically for his Archetype.
"Each Archetype must have its own unique stat," Noah concluded and nodded his head. “Figuring out an Aelve’s Archetype and what makes them special will give us an edge nobody had in the last Shift.”
A thought began to grow steadily when he remembered the screen with the guitar. His special Archetype stat was Charisma, so the guitar probably wasn’t just for show. Like the English on his screens, the guitar must be another way the orb was using Noah’s memories. Noah carefully thought back to his trial, and his conversation with the sphinx. A thought slowly dawned on him, and he thought, No way, it couldn’t be, right? However, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he might be right.
Finally, he couldn’t help but let out a muffled laugh, burying his face into his pillow, not wanting to wake up his parents. It was too ridiculous to not be true. “I’m a bard. The guitar. My Charisma stat. The fact I always wanted to learn to play the guitar. I’m a friggin’ bard!”
Of all the magical abilities he could have gained—fire magic, teleportation, invisibility—Noah had received the least combative set of skills. At first, a bitter taste of disappointment crawled onto his tongue, but he quickly swallowed it when he remembered his true goal. Protecting my family isn’t enough. I need to build a Fort, and prepare as much of humanity as I can for the Shift.
He laid down fully again, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars above. If he had gained combative abilities, he probably could have shown his power to the world. Maybe he could have convinced everyone about the Shift and the Aelves. If that had happened, Noah would have absolutely changed things so much by revealing his abilities, he would have found himself in a future he couldn’t predict.
First Song Page 12
