《Welcome to Althesia》 Whitewashed The floor was white, the walls were white, the lights were white, goddamn the air itself smelled white. ¡°No offense, Doc, but if I can¡¯t figure out what¡¯s wrong with me, you can¡¯t either. I came in for a checkup, not anal probing.¡± ¡°Mr. Marshall,¡± said one of two doctors, both dressed in white. ¡°All we ask is a bit of trust and a small amount of your time. If we don¡¯t find out what¡¯s wrong, you can go on your merry way. Okay?¡± He decided to ignore the last part of the other man¡¯s statement. ¡°Call me Jonathon. Did my granddaughter put you up to this?¡± ¡°No, sir.¡± ¡°Fine. Make it quick.¡± And so, Jonathon Marshall found himself slowly being wheeled over to a round, white machine. He had to put up some sort of fight or Skye would realize something was wrong. ¡°Have you people ever heard of colors?¡± he asked to no one in particular. Someone in particular answered. ¡°You¡¯re one to talk, Gramps.¡± This was a woman¡¯s voice. ¡°You¡¯re still in your own lab coat, and your hair isn¡¯t exactly getting any more colorful these days.¡± ¡°Darn. I was hoping to be probed by these poor doctors in peace, yet a wild Skye decided she needed to make it even worse with her poorly thought out jabs.¡± ¡°Poorly thought out?¡± Skye shot back. ¡°Did you expect a haiku upon my entrance. You think I¡¯ve got time? I¡¯m far to busy for that. You old, wheezing, fart.¡± ¡°That was the most childish haiku I have ever heard. You could at least try to use that big brain of yours before spewing nonsense on us common folk.¡± The doctors were forced to just sit and watch as two adults sprayed childish blather all over their clean white floors. ¡°Okay kiddo, let the doctors do their job.¡± The older man finally said as the doctors breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°That sounds like you admitting defeat to me,¡± Skye responded. ¡°Ew. Who said anything about feet? Creep.¡± ¡°You did not seriously just make that joke. I refuse to believe it.¡± The second doctor, a woman, finally decided it was time to step in. ¡°Okay Jonathon, it¡¯s time to send you through the machine. We¡¯ll have your results by tomorrow. Ms. Marshall, do you wish to remain here?¡±Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Skye is fine. Ms. Marshall was my mom. And yes, I can¡¯t exactly just leave this old man here to fend for himself.¡± ¡°I¡¯m right here.¡± ¡°Oh, believe me, I know. The smell gives it away.¡± ¡°ENOUGH! Ahem. Please Skye, please Jonathon, please just let us do our jobs.¡± ¡°Oops, Skye, I think we made the doctors mad. Okay, I¡¯m ready. Send me through the portal!¡± The two doctors shook their heads as they rolled the man into the white machine. ¡°The tests will take about twenty minutes. Please minimize any movement.¡± And with that, the machine moved into action. Jonathon saw with pride that printed onto the side of the machine in black text were the words ¡°Marshall Inc.¡± He remembered building the first prototype of this machine to figure out why he felt so much pain. Most people just figured he had hired a million researchers and inventors to do the dirty work for him, and while that was true to a point, he took pride in the many inventions he could claim to his name and his name alone. He wasn¡¯t proud, however, of his elaborate plan to tell Skye that he had pancreatic cancer. It was going to work, of course. His plans always worked. But he was pushing a difficult conversation onto someone else because he was too scared to tell her himself. If only he was a bit younger, he probably could have come up with some fix, some cure. Maybe that was his ego talking. ¡°Uh. Doctor? Is the machine supposed to be shaking?¡± Skye¡¯s voice was worried. While Jonathon Marshall had been contemplating his successes and failures, the machine had begun shaking. He wasn¡¯t even the first to notice it. He couldn¡¯t help but think that he was losing his edge in his old age. The doctors were frantically pressing any button they could to turn the machine off. ¡°We can¡¯t take him out while the machine is on! The moving parts could leave serious damage, or worse.¡± ¡°Then turn the machine off for God¡¯s sake. There¡¯s a kill switch in the back.¡± That voice was Jonathon¡¯s from within the machine. ¡°Looking.¡± One doctor said as they both rushed around to the back. ¡°Found it!¡± Both doctors pressed the button at the same time, and the machine stopped shaking, stopped moving entirely. ¡°Thank God. Mr. Marshall, are you okay?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you to call me Jonathon?¡± Came a voice from inside the machine. ¡°I know this is my machine and all, but can you two get me out of this death trap? Please, and thank you.¡± As the male doctor reached to roll the sarcastic man out of the machine, it suddenly turned back on and began shaking far stronger and faster. ¡°Grandpa!¡± Skye said as she ran to the side of the machine. She quickly guessed what each button was for, but couldn¡¯t do anything to stop the rattling, now rumbling white contraption. ¡°Listen, Gramps, you need to hold on. We¡¯ll get you out.¡± ¡°I¡¯m holding on, don¡¯t you worry. But please feel free to figure out what the fork is going on. What the fork is going on. Fork. FORK. Oh, for fork''s sake.¡± ¡°I think he¡¯s losing his mind. Can the two of you please get him out of here?¡± Skye said, turning to the two doctors. The two now nonexistent doctors. ¡°Mother forker.¡± Skye got out before everything turned black. Chapter 2: Seventeen? Everything was swirling. His vision was filled with flashing, twisting colors snaking in and out from every direction. A low hissing noise seemed to permeate from his own mind, but the strangest part of it all was the absence of any smell, feeling, and external sound. Jonathon couldn¡¯t feel his body, and he couldn¡¯t even tell whether his eyes still existed. It seemed as if his mind was floating through space, forcing him to struggle just to remain conscious. He lost the battle as his mind succumbed to the nothingness that had already taken his senses. The first thing that came back was the sense of smell. A scent of fresh greenery seemed to leak out of whatever world Jon had found himself in. Next came his sense of touch. He could tell that he was lying on the ground and he could feel the Sun¡¯s rays on the back of his neck. He even seemed to be able to feel his legs- his real legs, not those metal substitutes had been using for years. Finally, his sense of taste returned, and with it came the delicious taste of dirt. He had no doubt that he was lying face down, not that there was anything he could do about it quite yet. Suddenly, he could hear birds chirping and crickets stridulating. He also heard Skye groan somewhere to his left. At last, the world came into view. A world of brown, crusty earth. Damnit, I still can¡¯t move. ¡°Skeh ah ou okah?¡± he said, trying out a mouth that was still being pushed into the ground by humanity¡¯s unrelenting friend and foe, gravity. ¡°Yeth,¡± she replied. It seemed she was in the same position as him. It was lucky that she understood his muffled question. A minute passed, then two, then five. Jon was growing rather tired of counting the seconds, but time continued to stretch. After over an hour of being stuck, Jon heard Skye yell out, ¡°I mood mah hahd!¡± Of course, what she meant to convey was that she had successfully moved her hand, but Jonathon got the message anyway. Over the next few minutes, the grandfather and granddaughter duo slowly regained mobility in each of their limbs until eventually they sat up and examined their surroundings. ¡°Woah,¡± Skye said. They were atop a hill in a forest somewhere. There were dark trees in every direction, though Jon thought he saw some smoke rising far in the distance. The scent of nature and the intense greens had a quality that outshone most of the remaining locations on earth, rivaling the rapidly shrinking Amazon forest. ¡°Where are we?¡± Jon asked. Skye turned to her grandfather for the first time since sitting up and, seeing his unwrinkled face, let out a small yelp. As if on cue, the world around them flashed bright white and from the light, a young man appeared. Well, he at least appeared to be a young man, but there were a few incongruities between the normal image that phrase implies and the sight before the two Marshalls. The largest one was the fact that this particular young man was currently floating five feet above the ground.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. The levitating being opened his mouth to speak, but seeing the looks on the faces of his two new introductions, paused for a moment and lowered himself down to the ground. ¡°Hello, mortal beings, and welcome to your new world,¡± started the previously floating young gentleman. And a gentleman he appeared to be, dressed in a full tuxedo, bow-tie, purple pocket square, and all. It seemed as if he was prepared to give a full speech, and neither of the two humans in front of him thought it prudent to prevent the gravity-defying man from doing so. ¡°I have brought you here, to the world of my creation, Althesia. I have appeared before you to explain the situation that I have, either kindly or unkindly dependent on your perspective, dropped you into. ¡°First off, you may refer to me as ¡®God,¡¯ or by my name, ¡®Alty.¡¯ Secondly, I will only be staying long enough to explain the basics of this world, the knowledge you would be expected to know had you grown up in this land instead of that nasty globe you called Earth.¡± The self-proclaimed God held a look of disgust on his face as he spit out that final word. Jonathon recovered his senses, at least as well as could be humanly expected in this situation, first. Seeing his opportunity, he interrupted Alty, ¡°Alright, Alty, if you are some sort of God, then why did you bring us here in the first place. Just to give us a speech?¡± Skye looked at her grandfather, though she had trouble even thinking of him as such when he looked like a teenager, with disbelief. Perhaps his youthification caused him to lose his wits? Alty, the God, looked at the once-old man with something he hadn¡¯t felt in a long time: curiosity. ¡°It has been a considerable amount of time since I have been spoken to like that, Jonathon. Although, in truth, I should have expected it. I didn¡¯t exactly bring you here for your impressive amount of respect for those above you. ¡°I will answer your question, then. You are here because this world has become rather dull. Nearly all Althesian nations have been hoarding their own information and magical progression, slowing progress as a whole. This means the overall power in this world is decelerating, and my own power relies somewhat on that of the people here. ¡°In other words, I brought the two of you here to shake things up a bit, and hopefully progress the entire world further. Technically, I am barred from interfering too directly, so this is the most I was able to do,¡± Alty smirked as he finished his monologue. Skye seemed to have regained some confidence after the majestic being in front of them had chosen not to immediately smite Jon for speaking out of turn. ¡°Where exactly is this world, Althesia, as you called it,¡± she asked, ¡°and would you mind telling me why the fork my grandfather looks like a hardly-pubescent teenager?¡± ¡°Ah. That explains the legs, then,¡± Jon spoke up before Alty could provide an explanation. ¡°Do not fear, there will be time for you to be awed by my power later,¡± the overdressed man began, ¡°for now, just be happy that your legs are once again functioning and, well, the other issues that plagued your body have been disposed of.¡± Alty offered Jon a slight wink at that moment, and the teen grandfather let out a sigh of relief. ¡°The two of you have been returned to the way your bodies were when you were seventeen years of age, one year before Althesian humans choose their class. Yes, this does mean the system will have less time to decide what classes best match the two of you, although I do sincerely doubt that will matter in the slightest.¡± Alty did seem to love his speeches. Skye finally decided to ask the question that had plagued her from the start, ¡°Why the fork can I not curse?¡± Chapter 3: Stats and More! ¡°Well, you see,¡± Alty began, ¡°if the two of you manage to complete your... quest, and return to your old world, I want you to be able to tell your story to people of all ages! To that end, I have chosen to forcibly replace all curse words with suitable counterparts!¡± ¡°You are way too energetic to be a god¡± Jon stated, catching an annoyed glance from the powerful being. ¡°Grandpa, are you trying to make him smite us?¡± Skye said, ¡°I don¡¯t think we want to get on the bad side of the god of this world in our first hour here.¡± ¡°At least one of you has common sense. Listen, my time here is limited due to the previously stated restrictions on meddling. The two of you have about...¡± Alty looked at his wrist where he appeared to check a non-existent watch, ¡°three minutes to have your questions answered. Capiche?¡± ¡°You should have started with that!¡± Jonathon said. He glared at the glowing man before him, all the questions he wanted answers to running through his mind at once. ¡°Ok, answer each of these questions in order. Why did you pick us? How do we get back to our old world? Where are we, and are we safe here? Are there humans and settlements in this world? And finally, what are the classes you mentioned earlier? ¡°Who do you think I am, Jonathon, some sort of omniscient narrator?¡± Alty asked, looking away from the two teenagers in front of him and staring directly at you. ¡°I will answer some of your questions, but the others you will have to find for yourself. The only way you can return to your old world is if I permit it. If you manage to unite all of the major powers of this planet under your banner, I will personally return you to Earth, though by that point, you may no longer wish to do so,¡± he paused, shooting a wink at the two Marshalls. ¡°As for the rest of your questions, you are in the middle of what is called the ¡®Brightmoon Forest¡¯ in the nation of Sanshia. And yes, you are quite safe. At least until I leave, at which point you will be quite immediately unsafe. The two of you will have to find the answers to the rest of the questions on your own,¡± Alty concluded, with a barely concealed smirk. ¡°I will exist in this realm for around 45 more seconds, any last questions?¡± Jonathon was about to follow up, but Skye beat him to the punch. ¡°Are there any other general things you can tell us that are important for our survival?¡± Alty¡¯s previous smirk transitioned into a wide smile. ¡°Smart girl. I¡¯m glad I chose to bring both of you. Firstly, there is magic in this world. Real magic with real mages and real, devastating effects. Secondly, this world functions somewhat similarly to a genre of games that exists in your previous world. I believe they are called Role-Playing Games.¡± Jonathon stared at the god in front of him. ¡°What is this, some sort of weird RPG-style Isekai? Is this being televised or something?¡± Skye looked at her grandfather curiously before returning her gaze to Alty, deciding to ask what the older Marshall was talking about when they weren¡¯t on such a tight schedule. ¡°No, you are not being televised, and you should stop interrupting me. The final bit of help that I will give you is this: You can pull up a ¡®status sheet¡¯ of sorts by saying or thinking of the word ¡®stats.¡¯ The two of you should become accustomed to this system, as you will rely on it to survive, especially in one year¡¯s time when you will be given classes.¡± Jonathon¡¯s eyes were wide, and he seemed to be out of questions. Skye, on the other hand, had one very important one on her mind. ¡°You said that once you leave, we will no longer be safe, what do you mean by that?¡± ¡°Sorry folks, that¡¯s all the time I¡¯ve got.¡± Alty¡¯s body began rapidly fading into transparency. ¡°Try not to die, it¡¯s just as real in this world as in yours. Oh, and remember, have fun!¡± With that final ridiculous statement, the self-proclaimed god of Althesia had fully disappeared. Stolen novel; please report. Unbeknownst to the two Marshalls, Alty was far away, wiping a bead of godly sweat from his forehead. ¡°Thank God that I only gave them three minutes. Their questions were clearly tempered by their shock, but I have a feeling I would have been tricked into saying some things that I¡¯m not allowed to had I remained there too much longer,¡± he thought to himself. Back on Althesia, Jonathon and Skye were taking a few moments to process everything that had happened since they had been whisked away to this new world. Skye was the first to test Alty¡¯s words. ¡°Stats,¡± she said quietly, hoping not to alert whatever ¡®dangers¡¯ the god believed were nearby. Her efforts were almost ruined when she nearly let out a yelp as a bright blue screen appeared in her vision. ¡°Woah, Grandpa, take a look at this,¡± she said. He looked over her shoulder but couldn¡¯t find any source for the blue light that he could see shining on her face. ¡°I can¡¯t see anything other than your strangely sparkling face, what did you do?¡± He asked. ¡°Oh, that is interesting! I guess you can¡¯t see my status sheet. What if I try this: ¡®Share my stats with Jonathon Marshall?¡± Skye and Jonathon both waited several moments for the expected appearance of the stats. ¡°Darn, and I was so sure that it was going to work, too,¡± Skye said after it became clear that nothing was going to happen. ¡°Well, whatever. Open up your own sheet and we can tell each other what we are dealing with.¡± ¡°Strats!¡± Jonathon confidently said. ¡°Seriously? It¡¯s stats! As in statistics! Or status! I''m not actually sure which it is...¡± Skye said. ¡°Oh, my apologies, madame. Stats!¡±

  • Jonathon Marshall

  • ?Age: 17

  • ?Level: 0

  • ?Max HP: 183

  • ?Max Stamina: 301

  • ?Max Mana: 707

Strength 23
Agility 23
Intelligence ERROR: UNDEFINED
Wisdom 35
Vitality 21
Stamina 35
Luck 150
Dexterity 42
Perception 80

  • ?Battle Skills: Tactician

  • ?Support Skills: Inventor

  • ?World Skills: Absolute Genius, Super-Lingual, Chef, Swordsman, Sneak