AN:
I'll keep this brief as I can. Once more I took longer than I'd like, but at least not as long as the last. Main reason is that the second semester has fucking bodied me, no joke. After acing the first, I let my guard down I guess. Secondary reason is that I've been replaying the shit out of Dragon's Dogma again.
I can't express how happy I was when I watched the DD2 announcement live. I'm the happiest I've been in a long while, which is saying something since I'm almost always in a good mood. It has gotten to the point that I'm not even remotely sad at my performance in the second semester, I just couldn't give a shit.
Luckily, the announcement coupled with the DD sale has convinced a long-time friend of mine to try the game, and I'm happy to say he's enjoying it.
Last thing I'll do is address a review that posed a couple of interesting questions
"Do the gods know about arisen? Does the Senechal still exist? And how many people know about the pawns and dragons?"
Obviously these questions are in spoiler territory so I won't answer them too clearly. What I CAN say is that there are some aspects of the story I haven't fully decided on yet, and these questions fit in that category. I can, however, guarantee that Sleepmat10 has the right idea.
With Arisens being a once in a lifetime occurrence that have disappeared for over a millennium, coupled with having been around during the time of other heroes such as Argonaut, they might have slipped past notice entirely.
Pawns are much the same, with all riftstones shattered and no Arisen present, few pawns remain. The gods, starved for entertainment as they are, would hardly care for a group of humans without emotion, ambition, and desire. Which makes Arisen even less desirable to watch over since they would predominantly be accompanied by said pawns. The divines would prefer to spend their time observing any other merry band of heroes.
That isn't to say that they have absolutely no recollection of pawns. I mean, wouldn't you be somewhat curious if you saw a person appear out of a hole in the fabric of reality? Or if you saw a large group of people all bearing the same scar in the same location? You might lose interest shortly after, but it wouldn't be strange if it remained a footnote in your memory, waiting to resurface.
The Draconic race and the Seneschal are still very much a W.I.P aspect of my story, so I won't say much.
What I will say is, since the Dragon, drakes, wyverns, and wyrms are mostly raging beasts incapable of speech and rationality until they meet the Arisen (For the Dragon's case, until he picks the Arisen), most of, if not everyone, would just see them as particularly powerful monsters of the dragon species and nothing else.
As for whether the Seneschal exists or not, that is spoiler territory so I won't go into that. Obviously, none know of their existence, at most people and gods could have baseless theories of the existence of a higher power, or of a god of monsters (Which, the Maker would technically be, since they are the god of all, including the monsters they bring onto the world).
Whew, we're finally done. So, without further ado, enjoy the chapter.
/********/
Soft thuds pervaded the space of the second floor. Their rhythmic beat accompanied by the faint flutter of fabric.
Thus far the second floor had proved to be much like the first. A few more of the same monsters have fallen to my Magick and staff, yet I could scarcely measure the difference between both floors. I have withheld on gathering magic stones for now. I merely carry one small pouch with me, which serves to hold my remaining valis along with whatever rift crystals I scavenge from the monsters. As such, the pouch is much too small to gather every measly gem. So I have decided to descend until I feel threatened, rise one floor, and fill my bag to the brim.
Oddly enough, I caught sight of a couple of large lizards stuck to the ceiling and walls. Upon closer inspection, I noticed this particular breed of lizard had thicker scales, an elongated neck, sharp fangs, a large and wide tail, and disk-like feet that presumably allowed it to stick to any surface. They sort of resemble Komodo dragons, though that particular animal is far more intimidating compared to what I'm seeing.
Had I been playing a videogame, I likely would have fallen for this ambush. But experiencing possible death around every corner for real, and not through a screen, makes me much more watchful of my surroundings. Carefully, and with nary a sound, I retreat as far as I can. I begin preparing my only offensive spell once more. Recently, I had found that while I could free aim it, as I have been doing, I could also employ a form of 'lock on', like in the game, I could switch between the two whenever I wanted. This seems to work because Magick appears to guide itself according to my wishes. Even when I free aim, I can see in my mind's eye where the spell will land.
Even as Ingle fully charged, the lizards refused to budge. I aim at the center of the monsters and release the spell. The blazing heat of Ingle shoots out the staff and through the air, as the dimly light hall brightens up like a flare. The condensed ball of flame and heat crashes upon the Dungeon ceiling, frying all the lizards beyond what they could endure. I watch as the reptilian bodies fall heavily onto the floor, blackened and unmoving.
I move past the lizards and continue on my way, idly wiping the small amount of sweat on my forehead. I have always been quick to sweat and tended to produce quite a bit of it. The heat from my spells certainly didn't help. I have always been weak to heat and resistant to the cold. Must be my Canadian blood.
I spent another hour within the floor, mainly practicing with my spells and getting comfortable with the adventurer life. Now I stand before the third floor, anxious and wary of what is to come. I admit that I had expected a far more dangerous environment when I started. The only reasons it is remotely dangerous at the moment, is because I lack any sort of protective gear, and my self-reliance leaves me outnumbered every fight.
Fighting goblins is like fighting untrained children, and every monster so far, charged blindly without tactics with only the ability to throw wild, predictable haymakers that even a crippled and blind old man could dodge. The dogs were hardly a step up from the goblins and the lizards had it the worst by far. If they failed to ambush you, they had to reach within handshake distance to be able to attack. Considering their only method of attack is their bite, they are forced to bring their head well within reach of my staff. If their scales were robust enough to withstand some damage they might have actually posed a threat. As it stands, they are only dangerous within groups of other enemies, simply because they are so low to the ground that I must flex my knees more than usual and I must swing straight towards the ground, which makes it awkward.
The third floor left me puzzled. I carefully navigated it expecting new dangers to show themselves. Yet, as far as I could see, this floor was near identical to the second. Soon enough, I was already standing on the passage to the fourth.
I walked along the fourth floor while keeping an eye out. At this point I was just playing spot the differences, Dungeon edition. It was almost like someone had copy pasted the previous floor and mirrored it, all while making ant-sized modifications. Reminds me of university. the Dungeon spent all its time making the first floor and the second, realized it had to hand in the project tomorrow, panicked, and stretched out whatever it already had.
My sense of direction tends to be fairly good, but the bland and similar halls and chambers did wonders to confuse the brain. I had no issue finding the way down from the first to the third floor. However, I have been searching for the path to floor number five for what must have been at least an hour, and I've had little to no success.
Without even realizing it, I was using my experience playing games and studying design to navigate my way through the halls. This time, I had gotten turned around when I evacuated a room to give myself space to cast spells. The room had spawned a little over ten enemies which was a major red flag. Not wanting to die, I smartly evacuated, giving myself enough space to eliminate the majority of the monsters with repeated castings of Ingle.
I had just figured out where I was when a peculiar set of sounds reached my ears. A scuffle of sorts was occurring a few rooms ahead. It was the first sign of other adventurers since I was on the first floor. Not one to put my nose in other's business, I simply carried on. Or at least I had planned to. The conflict intensified as I neared the chamber. When I was close enough to peek into the room...
"Shit! I'm outta here."
"I ain't waiting around for this either. You're on your own kid!"
A rough manly voice belted first, shortly followed by a husky female one. The sound of heavy footfalls rushing towards me almost concealed the voice of a third, much younger, person.
"Wait up!"
I could hear a smaller person briefly run in the same direction as the other two, only to abruptly stop.
I peered into the room, surprised at the grisly sight set before me. On the ground of the chamber was a mutilated corpse, their race unrecognizable through the damage. One of their legs was torn clean off and their torso was pried open. The face was a bloody mess and several of the bones were twisted in the wrong way. The culprit stood near the carcass, seemingly taking pleasure in the result of their macabre fight. The monster resembled the various lizards I had encountered before, boasting an elongated neck, sharp fangs, and sucker discs for feet, but the similarities end there. This particular reptile has dark, thick, bloodstained scales, a much stronger looking jaw, blazing orange eyes, and the ability to stand and move bipedally. Not to mention it was far larger, standing a head taller than me.
As my gaze drifts over the Dungeon walls I notice there are several breaches on it. Said breaches seem to be slowly mending themselves. I hadn't really given it much thought, but I suppose it makes sense that the Dungeon would repair itself, otherwise it would be full of holes by now.
As my eyes shift once more, I take in the rest of the occupants in the room. Closest to me is a rough looking man just a tad bit shorter than I. He wears what appears to be basic leather armor, carries a mace that looks poorly balanced, and he's human, at least as far as I can tell. He has dark hair and eyes that match the colors of his apparel. He has short messy hair and a five o'clock shadow.
He rushes in my direction, panic stricken across his face. When he nears me, his hand shoots out towards my shoulder. He is slim at best, so I doubt he could overpower me in a contest of strength.
"Outta the way!"
He shouts in time with his attempted grab. As there is no reason to antagonize this guy, I simply bat aside his hand with my staff, all while stepping away from him. No point causing conflict when there is a much bigger threat in the room. I can tell from his facial expression, and his cursing, that he certainly felt the hit. Aside from that, he simply kept running and never looked back.
Returning to the room, I could see a small figure concealed by another, much larger one. What really caught my eye was the impossibly large sack? Backpack thing the child was carrying. The bloody bag is as large and round as a Snorlax, God knows how that child can withstand the weight.
The woman herself was as tall as me and had a tomboyish, athletic look about her. Short and straight black hair that was slicked back, excessively short shorts that emphasized her curves, black leather boots paired with stockings, and a short tank top that exposes the midriff. Her pale skin contrasts with her darker clothing, and the ruby-like eyes I managed to catch a glimpse of give her an exotic look. I briefly caught a glimpse of her appealing facial features and her tipped ears, which suggested an elven heritage. She had well-defined muscles that glistened with sweat.
The lack of protective gear on her sends a shiver down my spine, causing me to inwardly cringe. Even cloth could save your life from a blade, to wear nothing at all in most parts of your body is beyond recklessness. Even as poor as I currently am, with my vocation set as Mage, I managed to somehow dress myself in better 'armor' than she did. Which says more about her than it ever will about me.
Before I could do much of anything, the woman stopped her dash towards the exit and fully turned towards the kid. The boy let out a small sound as he collided with the girl's body. Soon after, her husky voice resounded once more.
"Sorry kid, but I have one last job for you."
The boy looks up at the raven-haired girl with confusion and apprehension. Meanwhile, I step into the room and move towards the side, maximizing the distance between me and the lizard. Before the young lad can react, the elf's hand roughly shoves him onto his back, earning a shout of protest from the boy.
"Keep that thing busy so I can escape. It's the least you could do, supporter."
I believe the last word was supposed to come off as condescending, but she has such a monotone that it completely masked it. Her speech finished, she turns around and starts to retreat, almost as if she didn't just doom a child to their fucking death! Perhaps they were a halfling, still, it did not change the cruelty of her actions. As she ran by me, the half-elf made sure to glare at me for whatever reason. She fucked up, is dooming her party member to their certain death, and still has the gall to glare at me?! The Lion, the Witch and the audacity of this bitch. Before she left entirely, I made sure to give her a piece of my mind.
"Apologies are to be heartfelt…"
I glared at her as hard as I could, when I saw the slight confusion on her face, I further elaborated. Yet I did not just converse as if I were in an animation. There was still a large monster seeking death. I could hardly afford to engage in banter. I moved closer towards the boy, hoping to arrive before the beast does. I wish I could start casting now, but I'm afraid the woman will take it as a sign of aggression, and I do not wish to fight a war on two fronts.
"…'Sorry kid', those were the words you've spoken. Apologies are not empty remarks to be thrown at your convenience. Flee like the craven you are. Return not to this place, you are ill suited for it."
I noticed her brow furrow, her stare becoming even sharper. My eyes picked out her hand scooting towards a sheathed saber.
"Huh? A mage like you has no right to call me a coward! I…"
Furious, the woman shouted at me about something to do with what I said. My focus, however, was already on the saurian approaching the child at a rapid pace. It let out an impressive roar-like hiss that promptly silenced the half-elf. Idly, I could hear the lady run away from the scene, leaving only three occupants in the room.
At this point, the kid was in full-blown panic mode, they likely didn't even notice me come in. The boy is scootching backwards as fast as he can, or at least he's trying too. The enormous rucksack makes it impossible to perform that motion, yet because of his fear, he can't seem to rationalize that he'd be better off just taking the time to stand, and only then start running. Additionally, he was rambling incoherently what was likely several pleas for salvation.
The creature's eyes lock onto mine, I instinctively shift into point guard, staff held head forwards at about my midsection, aiming towards the beast. To my surprise, the creature lunges at the boy, successfully sinking its teeth around the child's torso, eliciting a pained yell from the boy that shook me to my core. It's the very first time I bear witness to a person being mauled. Yet in spite of the horror of what I was seeing, I did not feel frightened nor anxious, instead, a mysterious serenity washed over me.
In the depths of my soul a feeling rose subtly. It was wrath. Anger at seeing a fellow person being unjustly abandoned, betrayed, and then mauled. The ire I was feeling never really overtook my rationale, nor did it ever impose itself on any of my thoughts or other emotions. It was a calm and collected fury that emboldened my resolve.
Lightning raced within my limbs, my breath akin to dragon fire, each step of mine bearing the weight of my anguish. I lunged with body and soul, my stance low and my arms extended. The staff's head plunges into the saurian's neck, a horrid heaving reverberating across the space. The blow carried too little strength to break or damage its scales, still, judging by the retching, it certainly felt the strike. It immediately dropped the boy from its maw and slid away, increasing the measure between us. I strode in front of the bleeding boy, placing myself between him and the reptile. Behind me, I could hear the poor kid's wails of pain.
Abruptly, a brazen poise coursed through me much like when I had first entered the Dungeon, unshaken, unyielding, inexorable in its magnitude.
The beast leapt headfirst, its great teeth bared. I feint a strike to the head, shifting to its legs instead. The blow crushes the creature's knee in a vicious display of aggression. Alas, the saurian shrugged off the strike, maintaining its course.
The passing step I had done was not enough to deter the lizard, as the ghastly maw of the creature came bearing down towards me just as vigorously as before. I recuperate the staff in time, gripping it horizontally to shove the reptile's head away. In my hubris I neglected the beast's tail, which had slithered to my blind spot and struck violently against my ribs. The force of the crushing blow pushing me off balance and likely cracking a few bones.
The pain was largely inhibited by the adrenaline pumping through me, and in spite of the dire situation, my mystifying conviction maintained. A quick thrust to the eyes forced the lizard to withdraw, granting me the opportunity to mend my posture. As the beast and I circled each other, I patiently waited until the distance between us was but a lunging thrust away. When the measure was ideal, I swapped to fool's guard, lowering the point of the staff to aim at the ground.
Fool's guard is a stance that appears to 'foolishly' expose your upper body. It is a stance meant to invite an opponent to strike at your upper openings. A counter-based guard that offers great leg protection at the cost of reduced defense for anything above the belly. Yet since the user of this guard is expecting a high attack, a reckless strike to the upper openings is sure to be heavily punished.
These concepts are not known to the beast. In its eyes, its prey had just exposed itself in a major way. The saurian lunged once more, this time its pace was sluggish, the knee injury preventing it from moving effectively.
My staff flew upwards, its tip crashing upon the reptile's sternum like a tidal wave, preventing it from moving any further. In the same motion, I had shifted my weight to my rear foot, squatting down further and leaning back, away from the beast's strike that sailed past.
The monster looked to retreat once more, but it was not to be. Magick flowed into the staff. A thrumming power crackled around the wooden rod as the air turned oppressive. A small circumference of Magick formed at the edge of the staff, directly in contact with the beast.
Magick Billow
The ball of force shot out of the staff. With nowhere to go, the ball immediately collided with the monster's chest, the magick splitting scales, damaging tissue, and rending flesh. A monstrous hiss of pain racked the room, but before the beast could recover…
Magick Billow
Another forceful shot impacted the same spot as its brethren. This one severed ligaments, tore muscles, and broke bones, yet it was far from over.
Magick Billow
A bullet of magick tears its way through the saurian, its dim glow revealing the creature's insides. It soars straight to the heart of the beast. In a wondrous display of precision, the ball of energy crashes into the reptile's magic stone, shattering it into nothingness. And soon, the monster fades to black dust.
I took a deep breath, feeling a sharp pain from where the tail had struck. The pain came in time with my breathing, an ill sign if ever there was one. Knowing myself to be pressed for time, I began casting Anodyne as soon as I could. Meanwhile, I turned to the injured youth.
"I would behest you to hold still."
I spoke loud and clear to the boy, still, his response was not what I had expected. He gazed upon the ethereal green ring of magick, its form composed of unintelligible words and strands of pale green light. He witnessed an orb of green light float over to him with partial shock, but also relief.
It was curious, why would he feel relief? I did save his life, and I had no reason to put myself in harm's way for him. Nevertheless, I am casting an unknown spell at him, I would expect at least a slight apprehension.
The boy was still clutching a grave wound, large piercing holes forked onto the poor youth's torso. The spell reached its apex, the ethereal circle disappearing into a concentrated sphere of the same shine and color, one which gathered at the head of the staff.
"Worry not, cos, this spell shall cure us both."
The spell flared outwards as a large ethereal bubble formed around the boy. The circle was darkened slightly, but within it, shining green strands of light fluttered through the air, lighting the area and giving the bubble a dark green tone. At the spell's epicenter was a condensed ball of green light.
One could immediately see the spell's effects. The large fatal wound the boy sported was mending itself at a decent pace, his complexion improving with time. Free to move, I stepped into the bubble of my own making, feeling the healing energy repair what was undone.
The child's eyes shone nearly as brightly as the Magick around him, his mood having improved drastically. At last I could take a proper look at the person I rescued.
Standing before me was a small human boy no older than 13. A mop of dirty blonde hair sat upon his head, messily gathered into a ponytail at the back while keeping some strands loose, similar to Jetstream Sam. Moist blue eyes gaze into my own. His facial features were soft and youthful. He had few muscles despite carrying a backpack several times his own size. He is wearing a basic loose beige shirt, coupled with brown pants, and topped with black gloves and boots. Around his neck is a peculiar blue scarf, worn and faded due to time.
I caught his gaze shifting sideways, following it led me to the mutilated corpse at the center of the chamber. Idly I noticed that this person, whoever they were, carried the same hairstyle as the kid's. Peering closer, I find the edge of some sort of green fabric laying underneath the body.
I approach the body solemnly. Aside from seeing my grandfather in a coffin, I had never seen the corpse of a person before. My relative's body had been prepped beforehand and he had died a mostly peaceful death. What laid before me was an entirely new experience. This carcass is recent, its form butchered beyond recognition, large amounts of blood seeped out, sullying the cavern grounds. It was far more horrifying than seeing a body cleaned by a mortician.
I squat down slowly, reaching for the cloth with my hand. Retrieving it revealed the object to be a bloodied green scarf, which is also worn and faded, much like the kid's. Speaking of the boy's scarf, this one was identical in design. I almost retched at the sight and smell. Futilely, I wished adrenaline still coursed through me so I need not suffer this nausea.
I walked back swiftly, offering the scarf to the blonde. His eyes tear up at the sight, yet his focus quickly returns to the corpse of his fallen comrade. Not knowing what to do, I interpose myself in his line of sight.
"Your eyes have suffered enough. Allow yourself some rest."
The boy takes the scarf, clutching it tight to his chest.
"I am ill-suited to offering comforts and repairing grievances. In truth, I know not what to say."
I kneel down, placing my hand upon the youth's shoulder. He does not seem bothered by the action, instead, he gazes upon me with soaked eyes.
"So I leave you with this. Death is a tragic thing, do not be afraid to morn and weep in its presence. Hold your fond memories deep in your heart and regret not your attachment to your fellow kinsmen, even should you know it to lead to heartbreak. Now you must stand strong. Gather your resolve and leave this cursed place. We need not turn tragedy into catastrophe."
The boy gives a vigorous nod, using his sleeve to wipe his eyes. I stand straight and move towards the body of the man once more. A quick search reveals this man carried two short, wide daggers as his weapons of choice, and what a poor choice it was. I gather his weapons and return to the blonde, delivering them to him.
The boy takes the offered armaments with trembling hands, keeping them at a distance from himself. Idly, I took note of the knife he had at his waist. Given its design, it was likely never meant to see combat.
"What is your name, child of man?"
"M…Malik"
The boy had spoken so quietly that I could scarcely hear him. In my head, I wondered what I should say. I do not wish to be overly insensitive to his guardian's death, but I cannot stress enough how poor of a main weapon a dagger is, having two does not change this.
"Good tidings Malik, I am Alexander, an initiate Mage. Brandish those daggers as a tiger would its fangs. But know this, daggers are backup weapons, at times they are merely the backup of a backup. They will serve you for now, but you should procure a better weapon soon."
The boy's face contorted in pain and anger. He opened his mouth as if to speak, yet in the end, he held his tongue.
"You need not fear. Speak your mind freely."
Even when prompted, the blonde did not speak.
"Very well. Then come, we shall leave this place."
I stepped out of the chamber with Malik in tow. It is about time to call it a day. When we get to the surface, we'll likely go our separate ways, as I'll head to Gail's place. I may only hope for a swift recovery.
/Linebreak/
We had arrived at the base of Babel, having only been attacked by a few monster on the way. Malik turned out to be a complete amateur at fighting. Wild untrained swings, overcommitting, sloppy footwork, amongst other issues. When I had asked why, he simply told me he was a supporter. Apparently, supporters are not required to know how to fight, in spite of the fact that their entire lives are spent in a battlefield. However, Malik did say that some bigger Familias start people out as supporters, so that they may learn adventuring from their seniors without being exposed to too much danger right from the get-go.
'What a mess.'
I thought to myself, feeling the cold breeze wash through me. Night had fallen by now, the stars coming to decorate the sky alongside the full moon.
"What do I do now?"
Malik's voice trembled as he spoke. The boy was clearly emotional, the day's events taking a toll on his psyche. As for his question, he could return to his Familia, but today's events might make it an unsafe place to stay at.
"That is a question I am unable to answer. You may return to your Familia, if you wish. Alternatively, I'd offer you a place of rest, should it please you…"
Gail's undying loyalty to me guarantees he would accept to shelter Malik. Speaking of the pawn, I wonder if he's worried for me. I did not tell him I was going spelunking.
"...Returning to your Familia may bring complications, but you'll need face them eventually. Still, following a man you do not know, may prove to be far less secure."
"Secure? The Soma Familia isn't safe anymore, especially since Zanis took over."
The boy spoke pure vitriol, his hands balled into fists, his jaw held tight. Clearly, he didn't think too highly of his God, nor his captain.
Speaking of. Soma… the name doesn't ring a bell. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.
"Then… what will you do?"
He had a thoughtful look, pondering his options. The boy's hands nervously fiddled with his scarf, with the blonde himself shutting his eyes forcefully. At last, Malik released a sigh.
"I… I know where to go. I'm fine by myself."
I've never been too fond of children and young teens, and as such, hardly know how to deal with them. It should come as no surprise that I've no clue on how to proceed with Malik. I'm afraid if I push any harder, it may appear as a demand.
"So be it."
Resigned, I opt to merely let him carry on his way. If I try to coddle everyone I save, my life as Arisen will be entirely spent on others. An outcome I refuse wholeheartedly.
/Linebreak/
I decided to wander around a little before heading back. I don't know what compelled me to, but it's been nice so far. This world has proven to be far more advanced than I'd given it credit for. When Gail had claimed that the people had managed to harness the power of the rift crystals, I had not realized just what that could possibly entail.
The streets held streetlamps powered by magic stones and I have seen a few bits of technology only available in more modern times, which was a bit shocking. It would seem this realm is a hybrid, like one of those shows that use guns yet justify the use of medieval weaponry somehow. But not like final fantasy, that is too advanced. A world where modern quality of life exists yet the people sometimes dress, fight, and act like medieval fantasy.
Wandering aimlessly through the streets, I arrive at the doorstep of a particularly sensual district. This must be that no-no district I wish to avoid. Ambient dim lights colored red and pink suggest desire, passion, and lust. Various scantily clad women catcall potential customers, their lustrous voices and luscious curves exude an invisible pull on the common man. A pull I can easily resist only because of my lack of interest in any romantic or sexual pursuit. I'm guessing this area of the district is mostly dedicated to prostitution and similar services, because as far as I can see, there are very few establishments which peddle other activities. Though I can see a large casino in the distance.
Not wishing to linger, I turn back around. Yet before I could walk, I was barred in my tracks, the full weight of a robed person crashing into me. I had barely managed to hold my ground, but before I could recover, the man pushed a pamphlet into my chest knocking me to the soil. Slowly, I picked myself up, gazing at the back of the retreating stranger.
'What the fuck was that about?'
Curiosity and caution warred in my head, with the latter overcoming the former in the end. I tuck the paper in the only place available, inside the robe in my brief's waistband. I really hope I don't get a paper cut, it would be hard to explain. More importantly, no way in hell I'm opening this now, I'll wait until I get home.
Travelling back through the barren roads, I hastily retreated to Gail's abode. I saunter to the front door and lightly rap my knuckles on wooden door. After a beat, the door slides inwards, revealing an indifferent Gail on the other side. With no words exchanged, I step inside while quickly retrieving the mysterious letter. I idly heard Gail shut the door while I sat at the table.
"I've taken in a guest, cos. They lay in bed for the moment, recuperating from harrowing events."
A patient? I suppose it is something I should start getting used to. I give a quick nod to let the pawn know I was listening, before shifting my focus to the letter in my hand. Opening and unfolding it reveals a short message with a date and a meeting location. I truly do not know what to make of the contents:
"Greetings, good citizen.
We have sent you this letter because we believe you have potential to serve a greater cause.
Maybe you too share our discontent with the current status quo. Perhaps you wish to be reunited with your lost loved ones. Or maybe you simply seek a purpose or a decent wage with which to survive. Regardless of your reasons, we all stand together as brothers and sisters against these turbulent times and unjust stipulations.
Are you not tired of bowing your heads and showing reverence to the gods that happily watch the destruction and decay of Orario? The same gods that stand at the top, sustained solely by their status and Familias? Are you truly accepting of the Guild? The establishment that employs the greatest offender as their leader? The organization that gets to decide the entire economy and military of our city? The same cursed people that control the Dungeon and monopolize its magic stones, the ones that get to invade the privacy of all aspiring adventurers? Who's to say they do not have records on all of us. Can you truly say in confidence that they have not breached YOUR privacy? The same Guild whose obsession with control is so clearly displayed. They do not understand us, they don't even see us. Gifted with all the power and resources, but none of the desire and goodwill to make change. They do not know the suffering of starving in the streets, of losing our families to disease, of living in utter squalor. They merely gaze upon us with indifference from their majestic towers and their marble palaces. The same buildings built upon the blood and sweat of the common citizens, the commoners who are now but flea-ridden corpses strewn across the dead-end streets.
They won't change. No! They refuse to change. But WE can force a change. We must simply take the power back and put it into the hands of the right people!
This letter has dragged on long enough. Join us in glory, in servitude to a higher cause, so we may be rid of these parasites that infest our lands.
Our next meeting will be 4 days from now, on a warehouse next to the "Stumbling Orc". We'll see you there.
May you find Fortune in the coming days. E."
Aside from that, there is a map of Orario with directions on how to find the warehouse. The letter is merely signed with the letter E. Weird. Well, I'm sure as hell not getting involved with that.
"A most peculiar letter, Arisen. Will you answer their call?"
I turn around, only to find Gail peering over my shoulder, reading the contents of the letter. His eyes no longer half lidded, as he gives the parchment his full undivided attention.
"Not in a million years."
I answered quickly, making my stance quite clear. While the letter was well written, as far as I could tell, reading between the lines reveals this group might be a bit too zealous. This better not be this world's version of Salvation.
"A sound choice. I believe this E might pertain to a certain group."
It would seem Gail is familiar with this group. No harm in asking, knowledge is power after all.
"And who are they exactly?"
"A group of fear mongering zealots concealing their simple desire for destruction with grander ideals of change. Known merely as Evilus, their ranks consist mostly of citizens backed by a few gods and their Familias. Some of which are powerful enough to rank amongst the strongest."
Oh, great. Fan-fucking-tastic, I'm being recruited by a cult. Also, what kind of evil organization calls themselves Evilus, talk about on the nose.
I am brought out of my thoughts by the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. I turn to the stairs only to be surprised when my eyes meet the familiar frame of Malik, the young boy I'd rescued earlier today.
"Alexander?"
I rise from my seat, turning fully towards Malik. Yet before I could speak, Gail had already started.
"In truth, I had expected this."
With nary a word, I raise a brow. A non-vocal question hanging in the air. Gail points at the kid, obliging to my request.
"Malik and his guardian were frequent patients of mine. When he returned here remarking how his savior used the same spell as my own, I knew you'd crossed paths."
"So you did know him!"
The boy shouted out, gleeful as if he'd deciphered the world's grandest mystery. Well, I should step in now.
"We are cousins, if you must know."
Malik's brain worked overtime to connect the dots. After a scant few seconds, he nodded to himself, seemingly pleased with his conclusion.
"Malik, you best rest. Your body may have been healed, but your mind still needs soothing."
Gail said with a surprisingly soothing tone. I knew Gail wasn't a normal pawn but it is still surprising that he can convey a fair amount of emotion.
"But-"
"Alexander will not vanish in time, you may speak to him tomorrow."
"OK, Uncle Gail."
Dejectedly, Malik climbs back up the stairs, disappearing from view. Meanwhile, I lose myself in my thoughts. I can't help but wonder if this Evilus knows my identity as Arisen. I mean, the letter was delivered in person, yet nothing in it suggests it was written for me, quite the contrary. It seems more likely that I am just another number in their schemes and not targeted directly.
I am brought out of my thoughts by the sound of a plate being laid in front of me. On it, sat a slice of red velvet beetroot cake.
"I bought it ere you came. It is Malik's favorite."
Comfort food huh… can't say I blame the kid, Lord knows I'd do the same. I give a quick thanks and dig in, enjoying the sweet treat at a modest pace. Just as I was about finished…
"May I have your ear, Arisen?"
"Of course. What is it?"
I scoop up the plate, carrying it to the counter and dropping it off. I also drop off the few rift crystals I'd obtained in my trip. Gail briefly acknowledges my descent into the Dungeon before proceeding with his original aim.
"I wish you to care for Malik as a parent would a child. As my most frequent patron, I've grown fond of them. But as a pawn, emotion and care are foreign to me. I know it to be a selfish request, but I implore you, Arisen, grant me this one plea."
Now this is a right surprise. An emotionally driven request, issued by a pawn of all things. But to become a guardian to the kid, huh. Honestly, I'm no good with children, as I've said before. A lot of that might be owed to my dislike for them. Then again, I can't deal with high energy brats, which as far as I can tell, is not the type of kid Malik is. If Gail truly cares for him, why not simply allow him to live here? Having him accompany me to the Dungeon is far riskier.
"If I am to be honest, without your aid, I would've been lost. You gave me direction and presented me with a solution to my plight. You gave me a home, a bed, and warm food. If this is my chance to repay in kind, then so be it. Still, there is aught that confounds me. Why not let Malik remain here with you?"
"You have my thanks, Arisen. As for your inquiry, Reynar, the boy's adoptive brother, told me much of their Familia. The only praise ever given to his Familia, was their god's wine, the rest of his words were naught but grievances Reynar had for his own kin. Malik will need to gather strength if he is to stave off his fellow kinsmen, so I ask you as Arisen, to mold him into a fine warrior."
After saying so, Gail reaches behind the desk and pulls out a sizable pouch filled with something. That something becomes apparent when the jingle of coins reaches my ears. He reaches out towards me, and I take the bag into my hands, pouring the 1600 I still had on me into the much larger bag.
"I have been reserving funds for when an Arisen would be chosen. I have withheld them in hopes of you finishing my task. I shall make an exception for Malik as he is ill geared for battle. Pray, use these funds to purchase what you find best for him. I would be ever grateful."
Wait, does that mean he has been saving up for over a thousand years now? How much money does he have?
"Now that you've accrued experience and discipline through combat, you may come to me if you wish to learn skills or augments. Should you wish it, I may also teach of other vocations so you may transition between them as you please. I have mastered both the basic and advanced vocations, but as a pawn, hybrid talents do not come easy. I'm afraid I can offer no aid in such endeavors."
That is a relief. I was wondering how I would go about that. So wait, is discipline a real tangible thing, or merely focus and strength of the mind? Is rank a thing as well? Still something else is bothering me.
"If you've the knowledge to teach me, why not do the same for Malik? Why request I train him?"
Gail extends his arm outwards, showcasing his shop as if to say, 'There's your reason'.
"I must remain here as guardian to the rift. Should I perish and return to the rift, this world would remain out of pawns reach."
That must be why he's so intent on me repairing the damn thing.
"Nevertheless, I am more than willing to grant Malik all the skills and vocations in my repertoire, yet, without real battle experience, he would lack the discipline and rank to learn and apply them."
I'm guessing the experience, discipline, and rank from the game are things you just sort of feel out. I feel decently strong, far stronger than when I began, though I've no clue how to apply that to levels. In the same vein, I feel I've gained a far greater understanding of the Mage vocation, and that I've the sharpness of mind to learn plenty of new tricks.
"Furthermore, I am ashamed to admit that I've not trained nor faced combat in many, many moons. It must be you, Arisen."
"Very well, consider it done. By the time Malik becomes a man grown, he'll be the fiercest warrior in Orario."
"I am deeply grateful."
Gail softly but decisively kneels, his head bowed low and his hand across his heart. A gesture that should've been reserved for when I'd proven myself as Arisen. A clear indicator of how much he truly cares for this matter.
Not much transpired after the fact, we mostly talked of unimportant matters for an hour or so. Soon enough, we both retreated to our rooms. As Gail's place was akin to a hospital, it was only natural he had several rooms built, in case a patient ever needed an overnight stay. With both me and Malik occupying two of those rooms, that still left six rooms empty.
Crashing onto the bed I peruse my own thoughts for a while. All attempts to sleep were easily deflected by the troubling thoughts in my head. Sure, I wasn't fond of children, but that hardly means I wish for any ill to befall them. And my brain thought it a good idea to constantly remind me that Malik's fate was now in MY hands.
As sleep continued to prove elusive, I was forced to wait as anxiety and exhaustion warred in my head. Eventually, after a hard-fought battle, the weight of exhaustion proved too strong to withstand and my weary head was finally put to rest. And as I drifted off to dreamland, my last remaining thought was of home, the home I'd lost, the home I yearn for, the home that lies elsewhere.
/********/
AN:
That's all folks. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope you enjoyed my little shoutout to the title of the story.
If you're wondering, yes, the ending of the fight against the enhanced dungeon lizard, was an homage to Bell's minotaur fight. The best animated fight of the series imo.
This chapter Evilus makes its appearance… kinda. Things are finally being set in motion, and a new member is added to the party. So far its been nothing but OCs, so I'm really itching to show some known characters. Unfortunately, I'm struggling to come up with a reasonable way to introduce that into the story. Still, I'll try my best so that the next chapter has at least one interaction, no matter how small, with a non-OC character.
Alex has an unfortunate run-in with one of the shittier Familias that isn't outright aligned with Evilus, along with having his first real deadly encounter since entering the Dungeon.
Finally, we get to learn a bit more of Gail and Alexander's character, as well as seeing the MCs first dealings with injury and death.
Well, this has gone on long enough. I hope to see you sooner rather than later (no promises) on the next chapter of my little story here.
Until next time,
BleatingWail.
