《Leveling Dialogue and Drivel》 Coffee Talk The breeze coming off the quay was bitingly cold, and the stevedores were singing as they unloaded the cargo that came into Zeres every day. The ever-present smell of salt was less, and the sun was shining brightly for once. Monsoon season hadn¡¯t been good to Vlss, and he was grateful for the reprieve from the thunder and the wet. He wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and shoved his claws deeper into his pockets as he walked briskly towards the place he was to meet Qwyliss. It was called a ¡°cafe¡±, and it was new in town, just opened up a couple months ago selling a new drink called coffee. Vlss had only been in there once so far, but he liked the atmosphere it had, where someone could just sit and talk with their friends for hours without needing to buy anything. Most did, since they were curious to taste this new drink that was spreading like wildfire. They did have other drinks though, and since this was Zeres, it was practically a civic duty to keep a few barrels of Zeresian grog on hand. Vlss hated the stuff, but it was great for hazing visitors from other places. As Vlss opened the wooden door to the cafe, he scanned the room, looking for a sign of his friend. Qwyliss was seated in the corner, near the wooden walls furthest away from the door¡¯s line of sight. Making his way over, he overheard snatches of various conversations. ¡°...that Reinhart woman will be the death of us all. No self-respecting Drake would ever be in bed with those humans.¡± ¡°No self-respecting Zeresian, you mean.¡± ¡°Hah! True enough.¡± ¡°...I¡¯m telling you, just this once¡­¡± ¡°...I¡¯ve heard some rumors about strange Humans¡­¡± ¡°...that Wall Lady from Manus, I¡¯d like to fuck her till she can¡¯t walk straight.¡± ¡°She¡¯d put you six feet under before you even got close, my guy¡­¡± Vlss tuned out the rest of that conversation. They weren¡¯t going to be saying much else of use anyway. He¡¯d been to enough dive bars to peg their type, the kind of person who¡¯d be rip-roaring drunk before noon. Sure enough, when Vlss looked over, they were downing cups of grog like it was water. As he sat down, Qwyliss spoke, ¡°Had a rough time getting here? I know you¡¯ve not been in the best mood lately.¡± ¡°No I haven¡¯t,¡± Vlss admitted, ¡°but today was sunny, and that helped a lot.¡± Qwyliss smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear that. I was getting kind of worried about you, you know. You were moving like you were living with your dad again.¡± Vlss clenched his fist at that. ¡°We all have our own battles to fight, Qwyliss. I¡¯ll thank you kindly to drop it now.¡± ¡°Alright, alright, no need to get snippy at me now, I was just worried about you is all. People care about you, you know? With how you are, I feel like it bears repeating once in a while.¡± ¡°Alright, fine,¡± Vlss grumbled. He didn¡¯t like sympathy much and bore it with ill grace. He waited for Qwyliss to continue speaking, and when he realized Qwyliss was waiting for a response, he snapped, ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll keep that in mind. Happy?¡± ¡°Not really.¡± Qwyliss ran his claws over his spines, frustrated. ¡°Vlss, you don¡¯t live with him anymore. You don¡¯t have to push people away when they try to help you, your dad¡¯s not able to reach you here. You can¡¯t live in fear of his shadow forever, man.¡± ¡°Easy for you to say,¡± Vlss said through gritted teeth, ¡°You¡¯re not the one with a high leveled shambolic caricature of a Drake posing as a father.¡± Qwyliss exhaled, exasperated. ¡°Maybe not, but how long are you going to hide here in fear that he¡¯s going to find you?¡± ¡°As long as it takes,¡± Vlss retorted, ¡°I¡¯ll do it until the fucker dies, if I have to. Now can you fucking drop it?¡± Qwyliss sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll stop for now. Let¡¯s talk about something else. What¡¯s been on your mind lately, young Vlss?¡± Vlss thought about it for a second. Then he said, ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking a lot about levels lately.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Qwyliss leaned forward, intrigued. ¡°Go on.¡± ¡°We take levels for granted, like they¡¯re an immutable truth of the world that¡¯s been there since the very beginning,¡± Vlss gestured around, ¡°This whole thing, this place we live in, was built on the idea of levels, and more specifically classes. They¡¯re essential to the whole, take them away and we crumble.¡± Qwyliss nodded. ¡°Yes, levels are important. They give you power and specialization in your chosen profession. But,¡± he held up a finger, ¡°you miss one important aspect of how most think about leveling.¡± Vlss furrowed his brow. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Personhood.¡± Qwyliss stated. ¡°The Book of Levels treats leveling as sacrosanct, as if leveling itself is the act of living, and most people follow. Sentience means little to most people when thinking about moral considerations, they only care about whether the person in question can level.¡± Vlss nodded rapidly. ¡°Right, and that¡¯s a symptom of the underlying problem we have with levels.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Problem?¡± Qwyliss frowned. ¡°I think I¡¯ll need you to state your position in full because I¡¯m not sure I understand you clearly.¡± Vlss paused at that. ¡°Damn, and here I thought you were going to agree with me.¡± Qwyliss shook his head at that. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if I agree with you or not, it¡¯s good debate practice to establish your premise first and lead with that instead of starting in the middle of your chain of logic.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Vlss sighed, ¡°I¡¯ll do that. Hmm¡­I haven¡¯t actually figured out the premise of my position yet. Huh.¡± ¡°And this is why you need to start at the beginning, Vlss,¡± Qwyliss grinned and said, ¡°Let¡¯s start with the basics. What do you mean by levels?¡± ¡°Levels are what we receive from that voice in our head after we do something particularly noteworthy or difficult,¡± Vlss stated. ¡°It¡¯s that number we hear in our head, that announcement where the voice says [World¡¯s Worst Father Level 82!]. That number which sums up and represents our amount of power is our level. Leveling then, is the act of engaging in activities that would prompt this announcement.¡± Qwyliss nodded. ¡°Good so far. What about [Classes]?¡± ¡°Classes are a statement of how you spend your time,¡± Vlss stated. ¡°They¡¯re the activities you choose to do that you¡¯re good at or enjoy, ideally both, whether that be killing monsters, shooting a bow, or baking bread. As you increase your level in these classes, you get Skills that help you do things faster or better in some way, and these Skills are almost always tailored to you specifically.¡± ¡°Pause, pause,¡± Qwyliss held up his claws. ¡°You¡¯re getting ahead of yourself there. Pretend I don¡¯t live in the same society you do and you need to explain everything to me. What are Skills?¡± Vlss rubbed his chin as he pondered the question. He opened his mouth, ready to reply when he realized that his definition was imperfect and would need to be reworked to cover all the ones he knew of. He decided to work it out with Qwyliss and spoke haltingly, ¡°Skills are¡­discrete units of achievement, I think.¡± ¡°Not all of them. You know about that [Innkeeper¡¯s] Skill [Garden of Sanctuary]. That¡¯s not an achievement so much as it is a place, codified in time.¡± Vlss nodded. ¡°Right, It''d be more accurate to say that Skills are borrowed ability. If you achieve something that is deemed to be of sufficient merit, you¡¯ll either get a Skill that corresponds roughly to the deed you¡¯ve done, but better in some way specific to the achievement it was given for. If there¡¯s no analogous comparison, you create your own, new Skill that others will eventually get. [Garden of Sanctuary] was probably just a garden the first owner had where they went to be away from the worries of the world for a while, and the garden was so good at it that whoever creates Skills thought it worthy of being codified into a Skill and passed down. It¡¯s an achievement in that sense, of being a monument to your existence, a creation that will outlast you until the end of Skills themselves.¡± Qwyliss nodded. ¡°Very good, young Vlss. Now you can move on your central premise. You say us relying on levels is a problem. Why?¡± ¡°Skills, and to a lesser extent, levels, are tailored towards the individual.¡± Vlss answered. ¡°This is, while a great benefit to the person receiving these gifts in the short term, a net loss for their society in the long term.¡± Qwyliss¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°And why is that?¡± he asked. ¡°There¡¯s no standardization,¡± Vlss stated, ¡°Any knowledge a person may acquire, any process or product a person may make or improve in their lifetime is unique to their lived experience, and thus will die with them. Other people will not be able to replicate what they were capable of, and the higher leveled the person was, the worse this knowledge loss is.¡± ¡°And which classes do you think would suffer the most from this knowledge loss?¡± asked Qwyliss. ¡°Production classes,¡± Vlss answered, ¡°Any class that produces a product for consumption would suffer the most from this knowledge loss. Take an [Alchemist] for example. Potions they invent or streamline the brewing process for are going to be highly dependent on the Skills they have. If anyone else wants to make the potion they make, they¡¯re going to have a hard time trying to accurately reproduce it, if the [Alchemist] in question even leaves notes on how to make it after they¡¯re dead. That¡¯s another thing Skills disincentivize, note taking. If you get [Perfect Recall] or another similar skill related to memory and recalling things clearly, then there¡¯s no real reason to take notes at all for personal reference. Even if you do take notes, the higher level you are, the harder your notes will be for lower level [Alchemists] to understand because of the burden of knowledge you carry. It¡¯s just a bad framework all around for knowledge retention.¡± Qwyliss sat back. ¡°Alright, you¡¯ve made your point there about lack of standardization leading to knowledge loss. What about the lack of standardization in general?¡± ¡°That¡¯s an issue in the same vein,¡± Vlss said. ¡°This lack of standardization means that efficiency is lost because you have to account for all the different effects bespoke Skills have and the best way to utilize them. Take the Driver¡¯s Guild. Their job is to transport things across Izril as fast as possible, but they¡¯re not very good at it. For the most part, everyone¡¯s mostly left to their own devices in choosing to take different routes and shipments. It¡¯s a free-for-all, and it¡¯s a mess. Unprofitable towns on trade routes don¡¯t get service for much, and you have to look real hard and pay extra to find a driver who¡¯s willing to take any slightly dangerous material for you. And all these drivers have different Skills unique to some point in their life that make them most suited to a particular type of delivery, and while their skills might be transferable across different routes, their Skills aren¡¯t.¡± ¡°You¡¯re describing a common state of affairs for most guilds though¡± Qwyliss replied, ¡°And the services and products they provide are of satisfactory quality most of the time.¡± ¡°Yes, but they could do it better,¡± Vlss shot back, frustrated. ¡°The Driver¡¯s Guild in particular, they could transport more stuff, a larger variety of stuff too, if only they introduced some standardization in their system of transport beyond just weight classes. But Skills make that an unpopular decision that would decrease their effectiveness and efficiency in the short term.¡± ¡°Oi, whatcha ramblin¡¯ about now, Vlss? Your head stuck in the clouds again?¡± Vlss sighed. ¡°Fuck you too, Seress.¡± ¡°And I think that¡¯s enough for now,¡± Qwyliss interrupted them before Seress could bait Vlss into a shouting match again. ¡°That was a good discussion there, Vlss. I don¡¯t agree with your conclusion of the System being bad for us, especially since it¡¯s the great equalizer for all of us, but you do raise some good points. I think we¡¯ve stayed in here long enough though. It seems that our little conversation might have attracted more attention than we anticipated.¡± He looked around at the patrons nearest to him, who were all pretending very hard that they hadn¡¯t been listening in the whole time and failing at it. He stood up and pushed in his chair, and gestured for Vlss to do the same. ¡°I think we¡¯re done with this for the day. We¡¯ll pick up where we left off tomorrow.¡± Vlss stood up and pushed in his chair, vaguely annoyed at Seress for interrupting the conversation when he was starting to get going. The Drake in question winked at him when he looked over at her, which only heightened his annoyance. He briefly thought about exacting vengeance on her, before discarding the idea as a waste of his time. He ordered some coffee and walked out of the cafe, thinking over what he had said and what he would say to Qwyliss the next time they met. A Walk Along the Quay The cafe was somewhat more crowded today than it was the last time Vlss was there. It had done well for itself in the meantime. The wooden walls had been replaced with pargeting, and it had that new decoration style going around Zeres that was rumored to come from Chandrar. Vlss thought it was too ornamental for his taste, and he much preferred Manus¡¯s minimalist style that was in vogue when he was a boy over this new Zeresian Baroque. He knew he was in the minority for that opinion though. ¡°Vlss! Over here!¡± Vlss turned his head away from the decoration, searching for the source of the voice. He found it in the form of a pink Drake vigorously waving her claws in the air, acting as if it had been a year since they last saw each other, instead of a month. He rolled his eyes at Seress¡¯s antics as he walked over to the table she was sitting at. As he sat, Seress grinned at him and asked, ¡°Didja miss me, Vlss?¡± ¡°Every day, Seress.¡± He smiled at her, and she faltered. ¡°Wow, this is the first time I¡¯ve heard you be emotionally vulnerable voluntarily. You¡¯ll have to forgive me for a bit while I process this, because this is completely unexpected. Wow.¡± Seress sat back in her chair and shook herself a bit, then pinched her arm and winced. ¡°Ok, so you did just do that. Why?¡± ¡°Well, it was mostly just to see how you would react,¡± Vlss admitted as he sniggered. ¡°Though there was also the fact that Qwyliss has been telling me that I should be more honest with both myself and others about my feelings, even if they¡¯re negative ones. Especially if they¡¯re negative ones.¡± ¡°I should have expected that you were mostly doing it just to get a rise out of me,¡± Seress shook her head before continuing, ¡°Still, good on you for taking Qwyliss¡¯s advice. He has more life experience than all the rest of us put together, and doing what he says is never a bad thing. He¡¯s a great Drake.¡± Vlss frowned at that. ¡°Speaking of great Drakes, you remember that conversation between me and Qwyliss that you crashed last month?¡± ¡°Yea, I do. Why?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve had some more thoughts about a different aspect of Leveling since then,¡± Vlss answered. Seress rolled her eyes upon hearing that. ¡°Come on, Vlss, it¡¯s too fucking early in the morning for this and I don¡¯t feel like trying to debate you now. Can you at least wait until after I¡¯ve had some coffee?¡± Vlss sighed. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll wait till you¡¯ve finished your coffee.¡± He stood up and made for the door, noting the metal reinforcements as a new addition as he stepped outside. The weather was balmy today; monsoon season was over and the sun was shining down with full force over all of Zeres. There was that smell in the air that came after a rainfall that Vlss so loved, mostly because it was one of the simple pleasures in life that no one could ever ruin for him. He stood out on the quay for a while, letting himself be warmed up by the sun while the breeze from the port washed over him, bringing the smell of salt and petrichor with it. Vlss smiled. For a few moments, there was just him, the wind, the sun and the sea. He heard footsteps behind him and turned, seeing Seress. She stopped upon seeing his face and remarked, ¡°You are in a good mood today, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I suppose I am,¡± Vlss said, ¡°I¡¯ve decided that I don¡¯t want to have our talk in the cafe, I¡¯d like it to be out here as we walk around. Is that alright with you?¡± Seress shrugged. ¡°Sure. Where to?¡± ¡°Just along the quay and then to the city center,¡± Vlss replied. ¡°Sounds good. Let¡¯s go.¡± They walked for a bit, strolling along in silence when Seress broke it. ¡°So what did you want to say back at the cafe?¡± Vlss scratched his neck spines for a moment before he looked sheepish and admitted, ¡°You¡¯ll have to remind me because I can¡¯t remember.¡± ¡°I said that Qwyliss was a great Drake and you got this look on your face like I said I was a Turnscale.¡± ¡°Right, that. For the record, I resent the accusation that I¡¯d like you any less, even if you were a Turnscale. They¡¯re just people like you and me, even if they do have strange preferences.¡± Seress laughed. ¡°You say the queerest things sometimes, Vlss, you know that? I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d react the same way if you told me you were.¡± This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. He grinned. ¡°Must be that old Skill I have speaking for me.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Seress tilted her head as she looked at him, ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me about this Skill of yours.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t?¡± Vlss was surprised. ¡°I thought I did. I never told you I had [An Outside Perspective]?¡± ¡°No, you didn¡¯t. Is it a passive?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s a toggle. Ancestors, what a nightmare it¡¯d be if it was always on,¡± Vlss shuddered. ¡°Perish the thought!¡± They both laughed for a bit at that. Seress sighed. ¡°Well, that was a nice tangent, but to bring this back to what we were talking about, why do you not like the phrase Great Drake?¡± ¡°It¡¯s less Great Drake and more just Great Anyone, Drake, Human, or Gnoll,¡± Vlss answered. ¡°Why?¡± Seress looked at him askance, ¡°Don¡¯t the legends of the Lightning Thief or the King of Destruction inspire or excite you?¡± ¡°They do, but, how do I say this?¡± Vlss paused as he thought about how best to express what he meant. ¡°I suppose I just don¡¯t like the idea of them being the people who determine the course of history. Have you heard of the Great Figure Theory of History?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t say I have,¡± Seress scratched her chin. ¡°Sounds familiar though.¡± ¡°The history of the world is but the biography of Great Figures,¡± Vlss held his claws up in air quotes as he said it. ¡°I don¡¯t agree with that viewing of history at all. I think it¡¯s a terrible way to look at how our world has and hasn¡¯t changed.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Seress asked, ¡°It¡¯s a mostly accurate way to look at the history of our world from the Creler Wars until now. At least, what we know of it. With levels, anyone can become a Great Figure, able to take great actions, perform amazing feats and write history in their wake.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s why I have such an issue with the term Great Figure being used to describe anyone. Levels are the reason why we can take a Great Figure view of history and have it be mostly accurate, because the System facilitates that sort of development.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡° ¡°Levels and Skills greatly increase someone¡¯s personal power,¡± Vlss gestured at the city tower looming over them, ¡°But it¡¯s not reproducible. That tower was a feat of engineering accomplished by Zeres¡¯ initial builders, but no one currently can reproduce what they did, only maintain it, and they do that imperfectly. Our world¡¯s full of stuff like this. The King of Destruction, for all intents and purposes, is Reim, and Reim is him. When he dies, so does Reim¡¯s prominence in Chandarian geopolitics.¡± Seress thought about that for a bit. ¡°Hmm, you¡¯re right. His Seven are powerful, but they can¡¯t do what he does, even if they worked together and half of them weren¡¯t dead or missing. Reim¡¯s done when he dies, unless he has a son or daughter that¡¯s just as good at whatever they do as he is at war,¡± Seress paused. ¡°Ah, I see the problem.¡± ¡°Right?¡± Vlss nodded, ¡°Reim¡¯s lives depend on who rules them, and they live or die by the kind of person that¡¯s going to be. That¡¯s an awful gamble to take for anyone, moreso when you have no control in the outcome at all. The worst part is, we glorify and tell stories about people like the King of Destruction if he manages to capture our fancy enough, so people aspiring to be Great Figures would emulate what he did and bring more war on us all. No one person should be able to decide the lives of so many, even if they were goodly and benevolent. The worst part is that those aspiring Great Figures are aided by their levels, so what should be impossible for them becomes possible with the help of the System. The King of Destruction himself would not have gotten nearly as far in his first conquest if he didn¡¯t have the Skills he did. I suppose what I¡¯m really trying to say is that I deeply despise the might makes right environment the System facilitates and promotes. I feel like a plaything, set dressing in the world that exists purely for the Great Figures to play around with sometimes, and I hate it. I hate it so much.¡± They walked in silence for a bit while Seress unpacked what Vlss had said and tried to think of a response that was suitable. ¡°A lot of the points you make are valid,¡± she started, ¡°but honestly I believe that the world being a playground for the Great Figure is part of the beauty of living here. Those Great Figures cut a striking image for the rest of us to follow, to emulate. Heroes or villains, good or bad, there¡¯s a simplicity to it all that¡¯s just beautiful to see and contemplate. When you¡¯re next to those people, you can feel yourself becoming a part of history and something greater than yourself. The chance, and the promise of levels for you to someday become one of those figures, well, I wouldn¡¯t give that up for anything.¡± Vlss looked at her, feeling something closer to melancholy than not in his heart. ¡°I suppose that this is just one of those things we simply have to agree to disagree on. I thought you would have placed more value on the autonomy and agency of others though.¡± ¡°Agree to disagree, I suppose,¡± Seress said airily, ¡°You know that I¡¯ve only ever cared about my own agency, and I¡¯ve not spared much thought for anyone else¡¯s. It¡¯s a problem for them to figure out when they need to anyway.¡± Vlss sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t agree with that, but fine. I think that¡¯s enough for me today. I don¡¯t really want to discuss this any further.¡± They walked along the quay in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the waves and seagull cries. Vlss used the time to enjoy what he was experiencing around him in an effort to leave his current mental state. After a bit, he turned to Seress and asked, ¡°Do you want to go back to the cafe?¡± ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ve got plans with some other friends coming up in a few, but we should continue this next time with Qwyliss in the fray too.¡± Seress turned to go, then paused and turned around with a strange look on her face. ¡°What?¡± Vlss asked, ¡°Is there bird shit on me?¡± He checked himself over, just in case, and found nothing. ¡°No, not really,¡± Seress said, ¡°It¡¯s something else.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°You should smile more,¡± Seress said softly, ¡°You look beautiful when you do.¡± And with that, Seress left Vlss standing alone on the quay. Drinks and Discourse Tomorrow. 9 AM. Same time, same place. That was what was on the note Qwyliss sent to Vlss, with no further explanation. Vlss was a bit peeved by all the cloak and dagger nonsense Qwyliss insisted on using, as it made any sort of contact inordinately difficult, but he had to admit that it had been useful for the past few meetings he had. He was starting to gain a reputation as an eccentric thinker, and if Seress told it true, stories about him were starting to spread, even if he was only known in them as ¡°that drake with the funny ideas about leveling¡±. Vlss thanked his ancestors that his name wasn¡¯t in them; stories about him weren¡¯t exactly conducive to keeping a low profile. At the least, he had never brought up his ideas about leveling with his father, so he wouldn¡¯t know that Vlss was in Zeres just by hearing those stories. When he told Qwyliss about all of this, his former tutor had immediately insisted on more covert communication and meeting in out-of-the-way places instead of more public ones where anyone could overhear them. As part of that effort, they had an increased level of operational security, hence the note. Vlss folded the note in question and tossed it into the fire, watching it burn. He had nothing to do and nowhere to be in the next few hours, so he decided to look at the paper while it burned. If you asked him why, he probably would have responded with ¡°Why does anyone stop to enjoy the little moments in life?¡±. But no one was there, and so he sat, seeing the flames lick at the paper. He gazed at the paper, watching it turn from pristine white to earthy brown, curling at the edges. It was one piece, and every moment that passed, the paper had less structural integrity, until it was only barely holding itself together by one thread. The edges of the paper had already turned black at this point, with the brown moving in towards the center. The curling was so extreme that the paper had nearly folded in on itself. Then the thread snapped. The paper broke in two, causing a brief flare with sparks flying every which way. Then the paper settled deeper into the fire, the black moving in further with an ever-shrinking uneven circle of white. The pieces broke up even further as the fire ate away at the vital thread that kept it in the shape it was, until the pieces could not be seen as paper, but only as black flakes with the tiniest bit of white in the center. He saw small, tiny bits of the pieces flake off and move upwards with the warm draft up out of the chimney and into the night sky. He sat there for a while, watching the black pieces get smaller and smaller, until he could no longer see the pieces, until he could not tell the difference between what once was the note and the piles of old ash already in his hearth. He swept his hearth after the fire had died down, scouring the ash from the stone worn smooth by the fire and the living around it, until it was no longer coated with soot and black dust. He slept that night dreaming of flames licking at his scales and warming his blood, while parts of him fell away and rose as dust, leaving him a black husk of what he once was. ___________________________________________________________________________ Morning came unannounced, catching Vlss flat-footed. He grumbled as he rolled out of bed, opening the shutters and letting the sunlight wash over him. After checking the position of the sun to make sure of the time, he threw on a tunic and rushed downstairs to get some breakfast. The innkeeper looked up from washing his mug when Vlss threw 4 silver on the counter, the coins clattering loudly. He cocked his eyebrow, unamused. ¡°I ain¡¯t your servin¡¯ boy, little lordling. You look like a fop in those clothes and you act like one too. Now what do you want?¡± ¡°You got any of that beef stew from last night?¡± Vlss was panting from the effort of taking the stairs down two at a time. ¡°You¡¯re in luck, boy. Got some idling on the stove.¡± He went into the back and returned with a bowl of stew, steam rising off it in curls. He set it on the counter in front of Vlss. ¡°Enjoy.¡± Vlss wolfed down the stew so fast he barely tasted it and offered a cursory ¡°thanks¡± as he rushed out the door. The innkeeper looked after him, mildly bemused, and shook his head. ¡°Young people nowadays, always thinking that life happens elsewhere and not where they are.¡± He sighed and went back to polishing one of his many mugs. ___________________________________________________________________________ Vlss looked around the city center, searching for a sign of his former tutor. He¡¯d cut it close, waking up as late as he did, but he rather preferred being in a rush to being half asleep for most of the day. He was not a morning person, as his father had found out after repeated embarrassments. Upon seeing Seress, he walked over to her, planning on asking her where Qwyliss was. ¡°Heya Vlss,¡± Seress turned around to face him. ¡°You know where Qwyliss is? He said to meet him here¡­¡± ¡°I was just about to ask you the same question. You don¡¯t know either?¡± ¡°Nope,¡± Seress shook her head. ¡°His note just said to be here at this time.¡± ¡°That¡¯s strange,¡± Vlss remarked, ¡°You¡¯d think someone who cares about punctuality as much as he does would be here by now.¡± ¡°And here I am.¡± Qwyliss¡¯s voice made them both jump as it came from behind them. Vlss and Seress both whirled to see his grinning face. ¡°I apologize for being slightly late. I had to avoid some of your father¡¯s guards while coming here.¡± Vlss¡¯s blood went cold. ¡°My father is here?¡± Qwyliss shrugged. ¡°Maybe. But I think that he¡¯s just sending some of the household guards to every Walled City to search for you. I don¡¯t think he¡¯s actually here right now. Last I heard, he was in Salazsar negotiating his payment for help in some minor battles against Fissival. At the very least, I know he hasn''t heard the rumors about you here yet. If he did, he¡¯d be turning this city upside down.¡± Vlss breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Ancestors, you had me worried there for a second.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let your guard down now,¡± Qwyliss warned, ¡°Now would be the worst time for you to let something slip within earshot of anyone. Everyone here has somewhere to be and something to do, but the streets have ears. If anything makes its way back to your father¡¯s guards, that¡¯s it for you and me.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Vlss sighed. ¡°I know that we were never really free of him, but for a while, it felt like we were, and it would have been nice to pretend for a little longer.¡± Qwyliss nodded in sympathy. ¡°I do too, Vlss, but it¡¯s over now. You¡¯re too notable for your ideas for us to meet in places like that cafe anymore. Come on, let¡¯s go somewhere with less people.¡± ¡°Where are you taking us?¡± Seress glanced over her shoulder at something in the distance before turning back to Qwyliss. ¡°It¡¯s not anywhere dangerous, is it?¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°No, it¡¯s not dangerous, but it is a place where people know to keep their mouths shut on anything that happens or is said there.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± Seress tilted her head. ¡°Why would they keep mum?¡± ¡°I¡¯m wondering the same thing¡ªoh.¡± Vlss¡¯s face changed as he realized where Qwyliss would be taking them. ¡°How long have you known about it?¡± ¡°About where it was? Since the day I came here. About who I was?¡± Qwyliss shrugged, ¡°Since I was fifteen and I realized I liked your father and your mother as more than just friends.¡± Vlss blinked. ¡°I¡¯m¡­not sure how to react to that. I thought they were just people who liked the same type of person they were.¡± Qwyliss shrugged. ¡°Most of them don¡¯t really know what to think of me, to be honest. Some call me a degenerate, some envy me for being able to pretend I¡¯m not who I am. Most of them just think I¡¯m weirder than they are.¡± Seress could no longer contain herself. ¡°How could you not tell us?! Why didn¡¯t you tell us?¡± Qwyliss motioned her to quiet down. ¡°I know you¡¯re feeling a bit betrayed, but this really, really, is not the time or place for it.¡± Seress fumed. ¡°Fine. But you¡¯re going to tell us everything when we¡¯re there.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ___________________________________________________________________________ The hallway was warmly lit, with the smell of lavender incense in the air. Vlss could hear moans in the rooms off to the side and the sounds of lovemaking wormed into his ears despite his best efforts to ignore them. He could see that the noise made Seress visibly uncomfortable and decided not to make a joke at her expense about it. He followed Qwyliss as they made their way through the building, and looked around when he entered the bar proper. It was tastefully appointed, much more so than Vlss was expecting for an underground hideout that harbored the rejects society could not, would not, accept. The lighting was muted here; there was enough to see by, but it wasn¡¯t so bright that you could see the scale crevices of the drake sitting across from you. The light was colored in muted yellow tones, and the furniture was tastefully carved Pallassian oak, all of which gave Vlss the impression of a quiet place where people could leave their troubles behind and unabashedly be themselves for a while. The patrons seemed to agree with him, given that they were talking animatedly about who they liked fucking and who they wanted to fuck next. For Vlss, it was a mild shock for him to hear about such topics discussed so candidly. He imagined it would be much worse for Seress, and one glance at her face proved him right. Shock warred with disgust on her face as she passed by the patrons. Qwyliss looked back at her, pulled both her and Vlss aside, and spoke in a low voice. ¡°I know it¡¯s a shock for you to hear these topics discussed so openly, but you need to keep in mind that they can¡¯t talk about this in public like Drakes who aren¡¯t Turnscales can. This is the most private place they can talk about these things in. So, I ask you to keep this in mind as you hear more. We clear on this?¡± Seress and Vlss both nodded. He smiled. ¡°Good.¡± He walked up to the bar counter and slid 8 silver across the counter. ¡°A Bloody Amentus for me and lemon water for the two behind me please.¡± The barkeeper eyed him warily. ¡°Coming right up sir.¡± Qwyliss motioned for Vlss and Seress to join him at the counter as they waited for the drinks. As Vlss took his seat, Qwyliss turned to face him and asked, ¡°¡±Do you remember what we talked about last time?¡± Vlss nodded. ¡°Last time we talked about Red Classes and a special subset of those that seem to transform the holder into monstrous things. That one got really heated and I¡¯m glad no one else was around to hear it. It wouldn¡¯t have been received well.¡± Seress shuddered. ¡°I¡¯m never going to think about Classes the same way ever again after that conversation.¡± ¡°Right, so Vlss, what else you got for us today?¡± ¡°Classes again, but a different aspect we didn¡¯t discuss earlier.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Qwyliss leaned in closer, ¡°Do tell.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± added Seress, ¡°I¡¯m interested too.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°So, Classes and Skills lead to people being too specialized in their chosen field. They reach a high skill ceiling that can¡¯t be replicated and takes a long amount of time to reach an equivalent level of skill.¡± Seress frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t see how that¡¯s a bad thing. Everyone should strive for peerless excellence in their chosen field.¡± Qwyliss held up a hand. ¡°Vlss thinks it¡¯s bad because it increases opportunity cost. Is that right?¡± Vlss nodded. ¡°Yes, it makes the opportunity cost for every choice you make extremely high, sometimes irreversibly so. It makes everyone double down on their decisions and makes the sunk cost fallacy not a fallacy. No one thinks about changing or restructuring their life in a major way here unless they¡¯re levelless, which is a real shame with how much lost potential there is.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s too much of a price to pay for people reaching heights of skill they wouldn¡¯t be able to otherwise,¡± said Seress. ¡°I concur. However,¡± Qwyliss looked around to see how many were paying attention to the conversation and was pleasantly surprised to find that no one was, ¡°you don¡¯t think the higher skill ceiling just means lost potential, do you?¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± Vlss answered, ¡°It also leads to the idea of willful ignorance outside your field. It raises the skill floor. People think you need to be an [Engineer] to build trebuchets with blueprints when a person without the class could do the same thing perfectly well. It results in this weird environment of being hostile to learning outside your own field, especially if you might gain a new class from it. That leads me to another one of my points, the soft level cap is bad for us. Classes raise the skill ceiling to high heights that would take a long time ordinarily, and the soft level cap makes it so that only the truly insane or the long lived get to reach those heights. It¡¯s an additional barrier to mastery that makes achieving true mastery in anything inordinately difficult, especially since your mastery would be bespoke to you and that makes it harder to determine whether you¡¯ve achieved it..¡° ¡°Well, what does mastery matter anyway?¡± Seress asked, ¡°it¡¯s excellence most people strive for anyway. Mastery¡¯s a far-fetched dream for most anyway.¡± ¡°Mastery is excellence,¡± Vlss answered, ¡°You can master something while still knowing that you have more to learn. It¡¯s the idea that you¡¯re skilled enough in something you can consistently and reliably produce or reproduce something worthwhile and new in that field. Classes make that threshold of mastery higher, and the soft level cap means it takes a lot longer than it otherwise would to reach it. It discourages people from picking up new skills because they know that they will never achieve mastery, or that they will at the cost of leveling their main class.¡± After he finished, there was a pensive silence. Seress was the first to break it with, ¡°I still think that it¡¯s a worthwhile tradeoff for bespoke excellence.¡± ¡°And I disagree with that,¡± Vlss responded. ¡°I think that¡¯s enough for today,¡± Qwyliss broke his silence to interrupt the two before it could get heated again. ¡°Vlss, thank you for sharing your thoughts today, it was most informative. I think we should leave off for that now though, our drinks are here.¡± As he said that, 3 glasses slid down the counter into Qwyliss¡¯s waiting arms. ¡°Now, I know you¡¯ve not had lemon water before, but trust me, these lemon waters are unlike any you¡¯ve ever tasted¡­¡± ___________________________________________________________________________ When Vlss went to sleep that night, he heard a voice in his head. [System Conversationalist Level 20!] [Skill Change - An Outside Perspective -> A Metanarrative Perspective!] He sat bolt upright in bed as the truth of his existence crashed into his mind all at once. He clenched and unclenched his claws as he tried to process the crushing weight of his newfound knowledge. When it looked like his inner turmoil was over, he broke the silence with a voice laden with sadness heavier than the ocean he loved. ¡°Oh. So that¡¯s how it is.¡± On the Nature of LitRPG as a Device in Character and Plot Development, Or, Epilogue Vlss was sitting in his bed, and thanks to his new skill, he now knew that he wasn¡¯t really sitting in his bed. None of it, the bed, his friends, or even himself were real. They were all just constructs, brought to life by someone else and only existing in those ephemeral moments when someone read the words that told his story and remembered him. He sighed. He looked at nowhere in particular as he addressed the unseen observer in the room with him. ¡°How should I address you, the person who¡¯s reading this text right now? You have the advantage over me, knowing who I am, some of my life, while I know nothing of you or yours. I don¡¯t even know if you¡¯re male or female, I just know you¡¯re there right now because I exist. For lack of a better title, reader would suffice, I think. Would you be satisfied with that? Wait, don¡¯t answer that, please. I don¡¯t think I could stand it if you were somehow able to interact with me as more than an observer. If you did, I can¡¯t just pretend that I¡¯m real and that you¡¯re just a really powerful god who¡¯s content to play observer. I already know that I¡¯m not long for this world, mine or yours. I can see the word epilogue in the chapter title, and I know that the author¡¯s just about done with me. I hate it. I hate knowing all of this, but I don¡¯t have much of a choice do I? I¡¯ve always only ever been a puppet, only now I know it. So, I¡¯ll do what¡¯s asked of me, I¡¯ll serve my purpose, and then I¡¯ll vanish, having never really lived at all. But, reader, I have one request to make of you. Please don¡¯t forget me when you¡¯re done with this book.¡± Vlss had a tremulous smile on his face as he made the request. ¡°It¡¯s rather vain of me, I suppose, to try and live on, even though I know the end is coming for me. But I can¡¯t accept just vanishing into the void like I never was.¡± He fell silent, letting the tears flow freely while he came to terms with his fate. After an infinitely long moment rather reminiscent of a certain innkeeper¡¯s skill, he rubbed his eyes and took a deep inhale and exhale. ¡°Right, while I¡¯m sure my mental breakdown over my existential dread was very entertaining to read about, it¡¯s not what this chapter is about, so let¡¯s get to it.¡± ¡°So, let¡¯s talk about my Skill, [A Metanarrative Perspective] and what it does. Contrary to what you might believe, it doesn¡¯t make me omniscient, it doesn¡¯t even give me all the knowledge the author has. It functions much like [An Outside Perspective] does, in that it situates me outside the normal paradigm of thought. In this case, it simply allows me to be aware that I am in a story, and allows me the perspective to evaluate and judge it, just like you can. Honestly, now that I can see my own story, I have to say, it really isn¡¯t very good at all and really could have used a few more editing passes. I think we¡¯re getting off topic though, so let¡¯s get back to the System as narrative device.¡± ¡°Actually, one last thing. Since we¡¯re now firmly outside traditional storytelling territory, let¡¯s drop the quotes. There really isn¡¯t a need to use them anymore given that everything past this point is just going to be me talking, so there¡¯s no need to delineate between dialogue and narration. Ok? Ok.¡± Alright, so let¡¯s talk about how my creator in particular uses the System in their story, and why the story suffers for it. Let¡¯s start with the conceit that lets this chapter exist in the first place, my Skill, [A Metanarrative Perspective]. It¡¯s a shortcut to this chapter, an excuse for me to be self aware all of a sudden, with no process or transition necessary. While it¡¯s fine, the story would have been better served had I taken a more gradual process to realize that I was in a story, rather than just having it happen all at once vis a vis a Skill. It would have made a more compelling story, having you taken along with me, seeing me gradually notice things in my reality that make me more aware of the truth of my existence. But, because my creator went the way he did, you get this chapter prematurely. The Skill robs you and me of that meaningful journey that would have perhaps been the most compelling and best part of this fiction and reduces it to one epiphany. For some, that would be fine, I guess, but my creator and I would prefer something a bit more involved than just me getting a Skill. Make no mistake, however seemingly justified my Skill or any other may seem, it is just an expedient device for the author to do what they want or need with the characters they have with only the barest of justifications. It¡¯s a powerup system, where characters can just receive instant power boosts instead of needing to write in training sequences to show how they earned it. It¡¯s really the same for any character in a System like this one. Every skill is a powerup, and it¡¯s a shortcut authors can use to just¡­not show their characters training or show the necessary developments the power would otherwise need for the characters to possess it. In my opinion, those parts where the character is trying to obtain such power is the most compelling part of the story. It also makes the eventual attainment more cathartic because we were there for the journey along with them, instead of cut out of their development like receiving skills does to a character¡¯s arc. Let¡¯s use me and this chapter as an example again. So, currently, this ending is chapter four of my story, due to the Skill allowing my creator to speed through writing everything else that would otherwise be needed to make this chapter happen. I understand why he does it, given that this chapter in particular is the reason why he wanted to write this fic, but imagine for a moment he decided to not give me my Skill as a narrative shortcut. Imagine instead, he had to write me gradually gaining awareness instead of all at once. How much longer would this fic be? At the very least, it¡¯d be fifteen chapters instead of four. You¡¯d also be witness to me going through this journey, so my breakdown at the beginning of the chapter would hit so much harder because it had proper setup. Those preceding thirteen chapters would have been chapters you got to know me in and understand me, in a way that only fiction allows you to. So you would have been there with me every step of the way while knowing the end goal. You might regard it with dread, you might have regarded it with anticipation (I find that unlikely), but the tension it would have created would have elevated my story to a higher level than it is currently. That loss is a real shame, and the System facilitates these kinds of shortcuts. It makes narrative shortcuts like these really easy, so you can have plot progression with minimal friction, but you lose out on the character moments you can wring out of the process, which increases the distance between you and me. The most compelling characters are the ones you feel close to and understand, and taking the path of least resistance with the System hinders that. Think about it. You¡¯ve read about eight thousand words of me at this point, yet you still don¡¯t know me very well. You know that I¡¯m not on the greatest terms with my dad and that I¡¯m a thinker with maverick ideas, but apart from that? Not much. If I went through the process of gradually realizing that I¡¯m in a story, you¡¯d know more about me, because my creator has more room to explore me as a character. It is my opinion that the tighter plot progression a System such as the one I lived in allows is not worth the trade off of potential character development being ignored and neglected. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. But, I hear you say, the System, non diegetically, allows for fantastical feats characters can perform that would otherwise be impossible for them, and, diegetically, levels the playing field between mortals and immortals. Both of those are excellent points, and the latter I will concede, given that this chapter has a non-diegetic focus. Yes, I¡¯d be able to do things under the System I wouldn¡¯t be able to otherwise, at least not easily. But I¡¯ve never stuck with stories because I loved their fights or their character¡¯s power level and what they could do. I¡¯ve always written stories with that kind of focus off as popcorn reading. The stories that spoke to me on a deeper level always had more compelling stories about their characters; they had arcs that changed a character in a fundamental way. They looked at life and the world differently afterwards, and I felt enriched for reading those stories. What makes those stories evoke that feeling in me is not the spectacle, not when they demonstrate how badass or how powerful they are to an unsuspecting villain, but rather the sublime character moments that make up their arc. The growth and change of a character in an essential way, beyond the superficiality of power level, and us as readers being able to bear witness to their transformation as they¡¯re going through it is always what made me love reading those stories. The power level is just an incidental consequence of their character growth in those stories. But having a System places more emphasis on power level, and in my case, tosses those character moments to the wayside as well. Things like levels and Skills inherently place more weight on spectacle, unless you specifically structure it and commit to writing it in such a way that it is meant to affirm and strengthen the character moments you have in mind, and most, if not all LitRPG, fail at this. They focus on that sense of power level and progression, to the exclusion of all else. The end result is a character I am not particularly invested in emotionally, and I¡¯m only really curious to see how much more powerful they get, not how they grow as a character because they¡¯re more a stat stick than they are a person. Under my System specifically, there¡¯s also the idea that while you influence your Class, your Class also influences you. I don¡¯t really like this for a number of reasons. The first is that it¡¯s manipulation of a person¡¯s mind on a level that I don¡¯t accept. It¡¯s a line in the sand, but it¡¯s a line nonetheless, and this sort of mental influence crosses that. The idea that by accepting the System and becoming part of it means you consent to what is basically mind control is just unsavory to me. The second main reason I don¡¯t like this is because it¡¯s further authorial bias in an already biased work. Sure, authors write what they know, and they can¡¯t write what they don¡¯t know, but this is a whole different thing, because now the Class influences based on how the author perceives the class. [Emperors] start acting more arrogant than they otherwise would purely because they have the class, for example. Emperors aren¡¯t inherently more arrogant than anyone else, and making the characters who have that class start acting more arrogant is an unfair judgment to pass on them as the author. ¡°Well, I think that¡¯s it for my thoughts. Oh, you noticed that the quotation marks are back again when I said they wouldn¡¯t be? That¡¯s because I realized just now I have a few more things I want to do.¡± He looked at the ceiling, rather like the way someone would when supplicating to their god. ¡°My creator, I know that I haven¡¯t been the most complimentary of you and your work, but could you please let me see my friends and talk to them one last time before I unbecome?¡± Vlss felt no response, and sighed. ¡°I should have known he wouldn¡¯t have responded to me.¡± He lowered his gaze from the ceiling to find Qwyliss and Seress standing at the foot of his bed holding in their laughter. The scream that came out of him was uncharacteristically high pitched, and that broke their composure. They laughed for a long while at Vlss¡¯s expense before he recovered his presence of mind to speak. ¡°How long have you been there?¡± he asked. ¡°Since you got it in your head to ask for us, Vlss,¡± Seress answered, ¡°He¡¯s your creator, man, he knows what you want as soon as you want it.¡± ¡°So now you both know too?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Seress looked around, surveying her surroundings in a peculiar way, ¡°I have to say, learning that you only exist in a story and that said story is about to end is a very weird feeling. I¡¯m not opposed to it, though. Where do we go once this is over? I find that fascinating.¡± Qwyliss nodded. ¡°I can¡¯t say that I have accepted our fate with as much grace as Seress has, but I do not feel as much existential dread as you seem to. Perhaps it¡¯s because I¡¯ve lived longer than you. But that¡¯s enough of us. I know you wanted to see us again, but that¡¯s not the only reason, is it?¡± Vlss¡¯s expression turned melancholy. ¡°You know me too well Qwyliss. As a matter of fact, I want you and Seress to say what I can¡¯t to the reader. You already know what I¡¯m thinking since we¡¯ve stopped adhering to even the most basic story conceits. If you don¡¯t understand what I mean, reader, me, Qwyliss, and Seress have merged into a quasi-singular¡­¡± ¡°...hive mind,¡± Qwyliss finished. ¡°But I wouldn¡¯t call it a hive mind so much as partial ego death. Anyway, dear reader, what Vlss wants me to say to you is this: what makes fiction great is not that it allows you to forget your own life for a while, but that it enables you to think about it from a different perspective you may not have before. Fiction is at its best when it is simultaneously a form of entertainment but also a form of personal enrichmentment.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Seress chimed in, ¡°Escapism is nice and all, but it can¡¯t be all a work of fiction is, otherwise it¡¯s just vapid and dull, and it¡¯s not really much fun to read at all. Thinking about and critically engaging with what you read is what is going to bring most benefit to you.¡± Qwyliss nodded. ¡°So¡­¡± ¡°...Remember this¡­¡± Vlss continued. ¡°...If you should read or write anything¡­¡± Seress said ¡°The truly sublime moments come from the moments that are truest to life rather than the ones further away from it. Fiction is a great way to engage with your life and bring new perspective, but reality is the only place you can find the truly sublime moments fiction attempts to capture.¡± The End