《Silent Exile》


 Chapter 1 - No harm in taking chances

    Having floated around in the dark nothingness that was the void surrounding him, all he had left was vague memories of touches and smells, having all but forgotten the physical qualities that one would take for granted as just being a part of life¡¯s packet. Then again, it had been what felt like forever since he¡¯d last seen, or felt, anything. Not that he thought much of it, having long grown content with simply existing.


    He hadn¡¯t always been of that state of mind, though. When he had just arrived, he was, as one could expect, confused at suddenly finding himself in complete darkness. For a time, he¡¯d thought he¡¯d gone blind, or perhaps taken a hard hit to the head, knocking him unconscious. He did quickly dismiss the latter possibility, as he didn¡¯t think it was possible to be both conscious and unconscious at the same time. That left the former, but that didn¡¯t seem right, either. Even blind people were supposed to have a sense of touch, right?


    That meant that there was something else wrong with him, something more sinister. His mind, muddled with confusion and fear, strayed down an uncomfortable amount of fantasies, each one worse than the one before. Had the villagers finally grown too fearful of his condition and decided to do something about him? The reason for his current situation may very well be his ailment... Or had he perhaps been kidnapped, sold as a slave to a sick and twisted Mage, only to be used in equally sick and twisted experiments?


    His ignorance regarding the magical did nothing to calm him down. Instead, it only served to further fuel his fear of the unknown, letting his imagination run wild in the absence of knowledge. He saw himself lying on a stone table, limbs strapped with leather straps made of the skin of previous victims, as a horrendously misshapen creature loomed over him, laughing, as phlegm and spittle flew from its rotting mouth with dark tendrils squirming out of every one of its orifices. Hooks, barbed poles, and rusty knives dangled in chains attached to a ceiling hidden beneath a veil of darkness. The Mage¡¯s knives dug into his flesh, tearing muscle from bone, leaving festering wounds as his muscle turned into an ugly shade of greenish yellow. But, even then, his throat-rending screams were nothing more than a backdrop to the wailing souls of previous victims. Even as his delusions ended, he still found himself hearing the manic laughter of his nightmarish Mage.


    And so, his mind kept jumping from one demented fantasy to the next, either desperate to find a reason why he found himself in this place, or to escape the images it had conjured. It wasn¡¯t easy to tell the time in this place, as there wasn¡¯t even a single speck of light to hint at the passage of time. But time had to be moving, it always had and always will, so all of his previous fantasies slowly seemed less and less plausible. That¡¯s not to say that he¡¯d figured out why he was where he was, and why he was as he was, as his memories seemed to have been ¡®cut short¡¯. But, perhaps the simplest explanation would be the right one, and it somehow brought him some resemblance of peace: he¡¯d died. That was it. It had to be. He had died, and now he was simply waiting for his next shot at life.


    While this realisation had brought closure to his compounding feelings of fear, it also brought with it a new sense of sadness. He hadn¡¯t achieved anything when he was alive, not that he thought himself to be the reason for this. There wasn¡¯t much a village kid could accomplish in the first place, not unless you had an Affinity for an Element, something everyone was tested for at the tender age of ten. Needless to say that his result had come out negative. But that wouldn¡¯t matter here, not in this place. All he could do now was wait.


    But, despite having resolved himself to wait for as long as was needed, his mind didn¡¯t take well to the lack of stimulus. It would frequently fling him back into a world fraught with imaginary pains and struggles, although, as time passed, even this became a rare occurrence. Instead, the tiny impish laughter that had settled in the back of his mind was replaced by a serene silence as he settled into a feeling of acceptance, growing content with simply existing, as he went into a ¡®slumber¡¯ like state.


    It wasn¡¯t until yet another indeterminate amount of time had passed before he was roused from his sleep. For a while, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, once more thirsting for something to drag it away from the feeling of lonesome acceptance. But, this time, it wasn¡¯t his own mind flushing his already precarious sanity down the drain. No, this time it was very real, he realised. What had awoken him was a familiar, yet not quite tangible, feeling, one he¡¯d felt at times whenever someone was at his door. He felt a presence. There was someone else in this otherwise barren void.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    The presence remained almost indistinguishable from the dark nothing, but there was little he could do to seek this ¡®other¡¯ out, as he had yet to figure out any way to move. The distance between them did, however, seem to lessen, albeit rather slowly. Whether it was him moving towards it or it towards him he couldn¡¯t tell, as there was no point of reference to make use of. It didn¡¯t matter, however, as the mere idea at finally not being alone was almost overwhelming.


    As the distance between the two lessened, to the point that the new arrival was right next to him, he finally had the opportunity to study whatever this new presence was. It felt¡­ fuzzy, he realised, weaker than him somehow, his own presence dwarfing it; as if he was a fire within a stove, and it the match-fire used to light it. The difference confused him; how come it was so much weaker than himself? Had it, perhaps, spent more time than he had in this place? Would he, too, end up in this state? The thought wasn¡¯t exactly comforting, although it also brought with it a feeling of compassion.


    He did, however, have no idea what to do. Not until he felt it latch on to him and probe his memories, searching, something he felt was more an instinctual action than a deliberate one. While he was certain he could block out the presence¡¯s probing, it reminded him of the time when his mind would play tricks on itself as entertainment. Perhaps this presence simply wanted some entertainment? It would be a good opportunity to relive his memories, something he hadn¡¯t done ever since he managed to calm down. Besides, there couldn¡¯t be any harm in sharing his memories with this being, right?


    ***


    Thanja had never felt as much frustration as she currently did. It had gotten to the point that, if not for her age and image, she may very well have shed a couple of tears in indignation. Instead, she resorted to walking up and down the marble-floored hallways, before she stopped and just looked beyond the barrier behind her mansion and into the void, Oblivion, as she thought of what had brought her to this point.


    She had looked away for a mere decade and what did she find? Everything had fallen apart. While the church still had a foothold in some of the lower realms, her two Chosen had somehow managed to get themselves killed in a tiny backwaters village, while completing a Divine Quest, despite all the effort she put into making sure that they were welcomed.


    If that was all, however, Thanja wouldn¡¯t have minded it much. Chosen could be re-chosen, after all, and then the replacements would be tasked with completing the Divine Quest. This Quest was different though. The pair had been tasked with raising a child to maturity, a child she had used much of her accumulated resources to put into one of the lower realms. So, with the death of her Chosen, the completion of the Quest would land on the shoulders of the villagers, something she couldn¡¯t accept under any circumstances, seeing as she had no control over the actions of the village people.


    While a sprinkling of strife surely wouldn¡¯t hurt the boy, the death of his ¡®parents¡¯ at the young age of six was sure to be a bigger blow than he could handle, evident by the fact that he had somehow turned mute shortly after for reasons neither she nor the villagers could understand. This wasn¡¯t the end, however, as the villagers had then started voicing their concerns regarding the boy¡¯s unnatural silence as they, blinded by fear and ignorance, claimed the boy to be cursed, a claim even Thanja couldn¡¯t dispute with absolute confidence.


    All of this had led to the boy now having collapsed in the tiny hut his ¡®parents¡¯ had left him, his soul no longer in the world. She had trouble understanding why he¡¯d been driven to such an end as he had, although she ended up blaming it on his still frail and mortal mind. If the boy¡¯s death wasn¡¯t frustrating enough, the fact that the body was still warm meant that she had just barely missed her last chance for intervention.


    Sure, it would cost her yet another fortune and a handful of favours to do something, but she would have been able to do something to prevent the massive waste the boy¡¯s death represented. Now, it may very well take another dozen centuries of painful stagnation before she¡¯d be able to try her chances once more.


    After hours of what she felt was pointless ruminations, she saw something in the void: a speck of colour, a clear purple, had streaked across the vast emptiness, something that hadn¡¯t happened in a long while. She would have to inform the other Guardians, just in case what lied beyond the barrier was stirring awake.


    As she turned around, something one of her friends that were well versed in matters of fate and clairvoyance had told her recently, came to mind: ¡°You must search beyond the horizon to find what you seek.¡± This could, naturally, mean a multitude of things, and fate telling never seemed to work if you actively sought out the promised result, a theory that had been all but accepted as fact at this point.


    But, what if the boy¡¯s soul had somehow ended up beyond the barrier, Horizon, instead of entering the Soul Cycle? Wayward souls had never been uncommon, but there had been no records of anything besides the Guardians themselves passing Horizon. The idea seemed too far fetched to even be possible. And yet, a nagging feeling at the back of her mind told her that, while highly implausible, it might still be possible for the boy¡¯s soul to somehow end up in Oblivion. She had bent a few rules to allow for his creation, after all, and there was no way telling just what consequences that would have.


    ¡®A quick peek shouldn¡¯t hurt, right?¡¯ she thought to herself. It wouldn¡¯t be the first time she had ventured beyond the barrier, and she could always alert the other Guardians after she returned¡­

 Chapter 2 — Found

    Thanja made her way towards the edge of Horizon with a pace she normally would¡¯ve thought of as unbefitting of her status. As a Goddess, she did, after all, have all the time in all worlds to do whatever she set her mind to. This time, however, there was a slight gnawing in the pit of her stomach that made her believe that, if she didn¡¯t hurry, something bad would happen. It was with a slight frown marring her features that she stopped before the barrier separating the higher realm from the dark void of Oblivion. No matter how big of a hurry she thought herself to be in, she would never be foolish enough to actually go beyond the barrier. Not in her physical form. There were one too many creatures that called Oblivion home who could threaten even her immortality and would love nothing more than to snack on her divinity.


    So, instead, she sat down on the soft grass and let her intent float through the barrier and above the grey sand that covered the first dozen metres beyond Horizon before giving way to a sea of nothingness. There, she waited, until a purple light streaked across the darkness towards something in the distance. If she was going to find the cause of these chaotic energies, she¡¯d have to follow them.


    While her travel was more peaceful than she¡¯d expected, having fully expected something would be attracted to her intent, it wasn¡¯t exactly an enjoyable experience. Thanja¡¯s discomfort wasn¡¯t due to the darkness, but the very lights she had been chasing from the beginning. She felt her non-existent skin crawl whenever one of those filthy off-purple streaks happened to get close, due to the elemental qualities of these lights. As a Goddess closely associated with Order, high concentrations of chaotic energies could make her feel sick for weeks, should she come in physical contact with them. Luckily, she wouldn¡¯t have to be concerned about embarrassing herself, as she never actually came into direct contact with the lights and there was no one around she¡¯d associate with, anyway. She could still remember the shame of when she just came into power, and one of the other, less likeable, Guardians, had thought it would be fun to throw a Mana Core saturated with Chaos at her.


    Needless to say that it was lucky they had servants to take care of any cleaning required.


    Despite the speed of her moving intent, it had taken her further out into Oblivion than she had ever been before, as it was usually her job to simply scout along the peripheries of the barrier. That was everyone¡¯s job. Now that she thought about it, she hadn¡¯t ever actually heard of anyone venturing beyond the grey sands.


    At this point, there was a strange quivering to the void that she¡¯d never experienced or heard of from her fellow Guardians before, leading her to believe that the disturbance in the void must¡¯ve been the catalyst for the gathering of chaotic energies. This thought did nothing to placate her instincts, as they continued to send alarm bells ringing through her mind, albeit more frantically than before.


    It wasn¡¯t long before she finally saw the source of the disturbances. Floating in the middle of the dark nothing, there were two enormous beings, tearing away, not only at each other, but at the void itself in a desperate display of hunger. She easily recognised the first of these beings; it was a Cleaner, a parasite that would patrol the borders of her world, consuming anything that was deemed a threat. It was supposed to be quite small, inconspicuous even, as its presence was made to imitate that of a mortal¡¯s. She had never seen one like this, however, or even heard of one like this. She paused, shock coursing through her as she watched the Cleaner pierce the second being with a tendril, before ripping the misshapen soul apart before devouring what it had managed to harvest, adding it to its own growing mass of writhing spectral tentacles.


    The second being was one she could recognise as well, although just barely. It was the soul of who she was looking for, although it resembled the Cleaner¡¯s much more than that of a mortal soul. His soul, much like the Cleaner¡¯s, was comprised of writhing tendrils that whipped and tore at the Cleaner and the void, stealing pieces to replenish its diminishing mass as every movement sent waves through the dark, giving birth to the purple lights she¡¯d been chasing.


    The only way this fight could happen would be if the boy¡¯s soul had been marked as a threat, something she couldn¡¯t comprehend. Sure, he was a wayward soul, but that was all. Not even the soul of a Divine should warrant such a reaction from the Cleaners. Hell, even the souls of a Celestial or a Primordial might not even be considered a threat. No, according to what she knew of the Cleaner¡¯s existence, they were meant to protect her world from ¡®otherworldy¡¯ threats, whatever that meant. She was quite certain that the boy¡¯s soul wouldn¡¯t qualify as being an ¡®otherworldy¡¯ threat, however, leaving her confused as to the reaction of the Cleaner.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    She didn¡¯t have long to ruminate, though, as an ear-piercing hiss blasted her intent and the two battle-locked beings, resulting in all three of them freezing. It only took Thanja a moment to stabilise, and the boy seemed to come back to whatever remained of his senses as she watched him use the momentary pause of the Cleaner to devour it in its entirety. As the battle concluded, the tremors stopped and the void stabilised, allowing her to finally act. She knew the source of that sound, and she had to act quickly, as she was in no way able to contend against the approaching being in her current, non-physical, state. So, instead of preparing for a head-on collision, she isolated the area around the boy¡¯s soul, trapping, and protecting him.


    ***


    Things had gotten out of control.


    He had been sharing what remained of his memories with the being before he felt something within it change. Like a spark setting off an explosion, the presence was no longer dwarfed by his own but instead towered over him. Where he once felt nothing but curiosity, he now felt voracious hunger ooze off of the being in waves that sent him into a catatonic state, only woken up when the being tried to devour him. As desperation filled him, he somehow managed to keep his distance, despite having no way of knowing if he was actually moving.


    It was just as he was about to calm down that the presence lashed out. While he couldn¡¯t see it coming, he felt the movement and knew that it was coming, allowing him some time to prepare, although he once more had no idea how to. Whatever he did manage to do wasn¡¯t in vain, though, as what he expected to be a direct hit turned into a glancing blow. The feeling of mind-numbing pain that went through his being was the first thing he had physically felt since his arrival and had caused whatever mindset of acceptance he¡¯d conjured earlier to give way to feelings of spite and hatred.


    Fueled by his anger and unwillingness to get devoured, he had somehow managed to rip a piece out of the creature in much the same way it did to him, using his smaller size to evade the majority of attacks coming his way. As he grew by consuming what he stole, however, it got to a point where he was no longer able to dodge, and the fight devolved into simply tearing more out of his opponent than it tore out of him.


    The fight remained in that state until a howling mix between a hiss and a shriek washed over them, causing a momentary pause in the battle. Luckily, he had managed to recover quicker than the other being, allowing him to devour it without much issue. With the battle won, he calmed down and regained his senses as the maddened snickering once more retreated to the recesses of his mind. He had feared for his life, but instead of relief, he felt hopeless. He could feel something else barreling towards, a presence leagues above his own, and he knew that he had no way of escaping it. So, instead of pointlessly attempting to escape, he turned towards the direction of the sound and saw something.


    The unending darkness flowed away from a single point like a viscous liquid, leaving an almost flaring white in its wake. Seemingly in response to the change, another howling wail sounded, only to disappear as swiftly as it came, blocked out by the pristine whiteness. The viscous darkness that had once surrounded him was now flowing together, forming a blob of complete black, before shaping itself into a vague human-like silhouette. ¡°Look at you,¡± it said, its voice decidedly more feminine than its shape, ¡°You¡¯re lucky I made it. Another moment and you would¡¯ve been consumed by one of Oblivion¡¯s less¡­ savoury inhabitants.¡±


    Instead of answering, not that he believed himself capable of doing that, he felt lost. At this point, he had come to the realisation that wherever he currently was wasn¡¯t where you went when you died. He had fully expected to be eaten but, contrary to his expectations, he had been saved, something he struggled to rationalise. His thoughts felt foggy and unclear, requiring more effort than normal to think.


    ¡°Still, you did manage to best a Cleaner at its own job¡­ A testament to your future capabilities, I¡¯m sure,¡± she said, self-satisfaction evident in her tone. Why would she feel that way? He¡¯d never met her before, and he didn¡¯t believe she had assisted him in his fight against the ¡®Cleaner¡¯. ¡°Anyways,¡± she continued, ¡°I¡¯ll be sending you on your way. I expect to meet you again, Alleyn.¡±


    Seemingly done with talking, she waved her hand causing a rift in the white background to appear, sucking Alleyn¡¯s soul into a much familiar darkness.


    ***


    Thanja watched what remained of Alleyn get sucked back into the mortal world with a frown. Yes, she had found the boy¡¯s soul and managed to attach it to his corpse, effectively reviving him, but she still couldn¡¯t help but worry that he¡¯d cause her yet another headache. And soon. The Cleaner¡¯s reaction still bothered her, too, but she hadn¡¯t detected anything in the boy beside a great many pieces of the Cleaner itself, something the travel through Horizon would wash off. After that, the soul should heal itself naturally without issue, even without considering the fact that she had infused a bit of her own mana into the soul to accelerate the healing process.


    Now all she could do was inform the others of Oras¡¯ awakening, not that it should matter. In the end, the serpent would go back to sleep, pointlessly waiting for its next meal...

 Chapter 3 — Ambition

    Alleyn sat at the small dining table and ate in silence, not that he had much of a choice. Or minded it for that matter. What did bother him, however, was the way he was currently feeling. He had expected to feel lost, confused, if not outright suicidal¡­ again. But, instead, he found himself with a budding but growing anger directed towards at himself.


    Having returned to his body, Alleyn now remembered what had happened and, compared to some of his earlier delusions, it was very quite simple. Pathetic, almost. He had hanged himself. On his sixteenth birthday, no less. Having been put in house arrest for the last ten years with his only regular human contact being that of the village Herbalist, Gert, had done a number on his mental health. The borderline complete isolation added on to the ever-growing feelings of self-loathing and with his self-image being that of a leech, he had finally lost it and tied an old rope around his neck.


    Alleyn let out a silent sigh as he thought back on why he had been put into house arrest in the first place. It was his silence. He had turned mute shortly after the disappearance of his parents, something Gert had at first explained away as being due to the trauma of losing one''s parents, a theory he had to rethink when he saw how very willing Alleyn was to talk, despite being unable to. That left only two explanations. He had either contracted an illness Gert had no knowledge of, or he had somehow managed to get himself cursed.


    Both were almost equally bad, as Gert was the only fortification the village had against a plague wiping out their entire population, and no one in Trudid had the magical knowledge to treat, or even diagnose, a curse. Well, the Overseer might have, but that wasn¡¯t his job.


    While Gert himself thought the former was the most plausible explanation, the possibility of Alleyn being cursed sent waves throughout the village of Trudid. Perhaps it was due to the remote location of the village, as it was situated on the outskirts of the Battsek barony, but the villagers¡¯ fear of the magical quickly resulted in his situation taking a turn for the worse. They had voiced their concerns to the village Elders and managed to pressure them into sending Alleyn into isolation. A compromise, according to Gert, as the villagers had originally wanted him exiled.


    Maybe if his parents had interacted more with the villagers, rather than just the Elders, public opinion of him would¡¯ve changed the outcome to a more favourable one. But they hadn¡¯t, and now they were gone, and here he was blaming his life on them instead of himself. But what could he have done? From today onwards, Alleyn was barely considered an adult by local standards, but that was it. No matter how hard he thought, he couldn¡¯t find a lot of options. Was he supposed to have run away, only to die as a child in the wilderness?


    Alleyn let the spoon drop into the half-eaten bowl of stew and brought his hands to his head. Dragging his fingers along his scalp, he winced whenever his fingers got caught in the tangles of his ill-kempt hair. The pain didn¡¯t stop him, however, as every time he winced, he felt the anger diminish a tiny bit. There was a lot of truth in his earlier thoughts, no matter how helpless they made him feel. Even if he had the ambition to try and change his situation, he wasn¡¯t able to do anything, something he now found to be¡­ wrong, somehow, although he wasn¡¯t quite sure why.


    It was the words of the being that sent him back, he realised. The woman was expecting that they would meet again at some point. This meant that either she would be meeting him, or he would find her. Alleyn doubted that a being powerful enough to bring him back to life would be living close by, although he had no idea where she¡¯d be. In the capital, perhaps? It was a guess, but it was the best one he had.


    Travelling to the capital was an issue Alleyn had no confidence in resolving. He had no idea where the capital was or even its name. Not only that, but the harsh reality was that he¡¯d die before he even got there. He had no idea how to survive without the Elder¡¯s handouts, and he had no doubts that the road would be less than welcoming.


    In the end, it all boiled down to one thing: lack of power. Alleyn remembered some of the stories his parents had told him, of mages shifting lakes and raising mountains, and powerful warriors cutting down the enemy soldiers by the dozens. But he had none of that. No elemental affinities, something every five-year-old was required to be tested for by law, and he certainly didn¡¯t have the strength or skill required to fight even his peers.


    So, becoming a mage was out of the question. But even becoming a warrior didn¡¯t seem feasible. The only way for him to train his body was at home, and he had no one to teach him how to use a weapon, not that he had a weapon in the first place. He was hopeless, a thought that brought the anger back in full swing. The most frustrating thing, however, was the fact that the anger itself was pointless. Yes, it gave him the drive to do something, but there was nothing he could do. But even that thought only made it worse.


    The anger kept compounding in on itself to the point that he was shaking. The sudden appearance of¡­ ¡®something¡¯ in his periphery was all it took to make him sling the bowl towards it with the result of the ceramic bowl shattering against the wall, although the noise did manage to clear away some the anger. The thing that had spooked him was a single horizontal line that was just¡­ floating. Then letters appeared underneath it and, despite never having been taught how to read or write, he could understand them, although the sentences made little sense.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Link established.


    Merging with HOST¡¯s soul¡­ Success.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Attempting takeover¡­ In progress.


    OVERRIDE¡­ IN PROGRESS.


    Takeover attempt paused¡­ Reason: Anomalies detected.


    Removing anomalies¡­ Failure.


    Sending distress signal¡­ In progress.


    OVERRIDE... PARTIAL SUCCESS.


    DISCONNECTING FROM ORIGIN RECORDS¡­ SUCCESS.


    Sending distress signal¡­ Failure.


    Terminating system¡­ In progress.


    OVERRIDE¡­ COMPLETE.


    Terminating system¡­ ABORTED.


    Establishing telepathic link to HOST¡­ In progress.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    ***


    ¡°You ventured outside,¡± Renoss stated matter of factly.


    ¡°I did,¡± Thanja replied. Of course, he¡¯d know that she¡¯d gone beyond Horizon, even if it was only a projection of her intent. As the head of the Guardians, it would¡¯ve been a surprise if he didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°We felt the disturbances.¡±


    ¡°Oras has awakened,¡± she replied in answer to the unasked question, hoping she¡¯d be able to use the serpent as an explanation. It was a believable one, she convinced herself, although one look at Renoss was all it took for her to realise that she¡¯d been seen through. To some extent, anyway. As a God closely aligned with the concept of Truth, coupled with the fact that he was the oldest God she¡¯d ever met, it wasn¡¯t really a surprise that he¡¯d be able to tell that there was something wrong. It almost seemed funny how she¡¯d hoped to deceive him with half-truths in the first place, now that she thought about it.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ Is that so,¡± Renoss replied with his eyes squinted ever so slightly before he fell silent once more. It was amusing, watching the usually stoic Thanja struggle with keeping her breathing under control. While he didn¡¯t know the actual cause of Oblivion¡¯s trembling, he had some ideas, and they all pointed towards the young Thanja¡¯s ¡®pet-project¡¯. Medling with the affairs of the lower realms was usually frowned upon, but it was a novel idea she¡¯d gotten, and he was interested in the conclusion which was the only reason why he¡¯d let her go through with it.


    ¡°Nothing to worry about, then,¡± he finally said, his laughter barely contained by his long years of existence. He did, however, have to close his eyes an take a few seconds to regain his calm, ¡°You may leave.¡±


    The sight of relief almost visibly wash over Thanja was almost too humorous of a sight to behold. For a moment, he actually thought she¡¯d sigh in relief, although he was relieved that she didn¡¯t. If she had, he doubted he¡¯d be able to contain the laughter brewing in his belly.


    As the doors to Renoss¡¯ chamber closed behind her, she finally let a sigh escape her lips. While it was obvious that Renoss knew there was ¡®something¡¯ going on that she didn¡¯t want him to know, realising that he wouldn¡¯t pry into her secrets brought her some peace of mind. The godly community was still on the fence about interfering with the lower realms, but it was generally seen as taboo by those of Renoss¡¯ generation. Even the act of establishing a following was something only a few gods had actually done, as having one of the older gods talk your ears off for aeons was a risk not many were willing to run in the endless pursuit of entertainment.


    Imagine what they¡¯d say if they found out she had quite literally ¡®created¡¯ a mortal.


    Thanja let her eyes wander over the white, mirror-like, marble halls and its pointless, yet seemingly necessary if you considered their status, gold embellishment, as her mind thought back on her separation with Alleyn. It had been a very one-sided encounter with only her doing any talking, but she doubted he had the presence of mind to even form a single coherent sentence, what with the merging of the Cleaner and all that.


    She did, however, leave him with something she¡¯d forgotten to add during his creation, one of the core reasons why he¡¯d simply accepted his less than optimal situation. It was a foolish mistake, honestly, as it was what had led the lower races to prosper as they had: ambition.

 Chapter 4 — A Way Forward

    Alleyn stood up in shock, his wide eyes scanning the tiny room for any indication of where the presence he could feel might be but found nothing. He was, however, fully convinced that there was ¡®something¡¯ nearby, something that hadn¡¯t been there until after the final line had appeared on the floating pane. A minute went by, and he would¡¯ve dismissed the idea that something was wrong if not for the fact that his intuition had never failed him before, at least not when it came to feeling the presence of others; he¡¯d even been able to sense whatever had almost devoured him despite having nothing but his intuition to rely on. If not for his inability to ask, he would¡¯ve called out to the empty room, asking who, and where, this someone was.


    [I am Project: Cleanse, a construct of basic sentience created in order to combat the corruption of my World¡¯s Origin Record. Looking for me is futile as I am bound to your soul,] a genderless voice spoke into Alleyn¡¯s head in a cold monotone as if to answer his unasked questions, giving him the impression that this voice could read his mind, a disturbing thought that the voice swiftly confirmed, [I do, indeed, have the ability to know what you¡¯re thinking of, Alleyn, as it would facilitate faster and more precise communication between yourself and me. Would you like to limit this ability to only working on thoughts directed at Project: Cleanse?]


    (¡°Yes!¡±) Alleyn mentally screamed; the idea of having an outside entity rummage through his thoughts had too many negative feelings attached to it, courtesy of the parasite that ended up wanting to devour him.


    [Understood,] the voice answered and, despite knowing that it could be trying to deceive him, the fact that it now felt slightly farther away did grant some credibility to its promise of not reading ¡®all of his thoughts¡¯. Thus, now cautiously afraid rather than frantically fearful, he asked, (¡°What do you want?¡±)


    [I am here to watch over and assist you, should you wish for it, in the hopes that you can obtain the power required to stand toe-to-toe with the Keeper when the time comes,] the voice began, [My primary objective, however, is to make sure that the virus set loose by the Keeper would have no control over you.]


    (¡°What virus?¡±) Alleyn asked as his stomach sank; if what the voice said was true, in that its ¡®primary objective¡¯ was to watch over him due to this ¡®virus¡¯, then that would mean he was infected. This, coupled with what the voice had mentioned about the virus potentially ¡®having control over him¡¯ made him feel a rising sense of crisis.


    [The virus was created by the Keeper after he got access to the Origin Record, with the goal of spreading his influence beyond the borders of my origin. The virus was injected into the void between Worlds in the hopes that would infect the soul of an inhabitant of a foreign World, making them gain the requisite power to assist in creating a pathway between this world and that of my origin. Please do not worry, however, as I was created with the primary purpose of taking control of the virus and removing any influence it might have had over you,] the voice responded but, despite having the feeling that it was somehow trying to reassure him, the answer still left him in stunned silence.


    (¡°Who is the Keeper?¡±) Alleyn finally managed as he sat back down, somewhat desperately wanting to stir the topic away from mind-controlling viruses and near-death experiences.


    [The Keeper is a man of unknown origin who managed to gain access to and control of my World¡¯s Origin Record, a collection of all the events of my World. With all of the discovered paths to power before him, his strength rose to unimaginable heights. And with all the happenings of the World being written down as they happened, coupled with his clairvoyance, he could reliably predict the future, resulting in him claiming complete ownership over the World with no one able to stand against him,] the voice explained.


    Alleyn¡¯s brain worked on overtime as he struggled to make sense of what the voice had told him. The voice was from another world, that much was obvious, and it had purportedly been created in order to make sure that the Keeper, someone who apparently knew everything, couldn¡¯t gain control over more Worlds than his own? How powerful would someone have to be to accomplish such a feat? The only reference Alleyn had was the being that had revived him, but he couldn¡¯t help but feel that even they wouldn¡¯t be able to do such a thing. It would¡¯ve made more sense if the voice had simply told him that the Keeper is stronger than himself, although that wouldn¡¯t mean a whole lot despite the accuracy of such a statement.


    And so, his mental gymnastics led to him the same conclusion he¡¯d arrived at even before the voice had popped into his life: he was weak. That thought brought with it the same feelings of angry self-loathing he¡¯d felt back when he was first brought back to life, feelings he fought desperately to repress until he remembered something the voice had told him: it was willing to help him become stronger, stronger than he could currently fathom. With that being the case, it should be able to help him reunite with his saviour, right? (¡°You can help me become stronger?¡±)Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    [Yes,] the voice answered, [Would you like for me to continue the System Startup Procedure?] it asked but he couldn¡¯t help but he couldn¡¯t help the second thoughts making their way to the forefront of his mind; the voice could be lying to him and, if its intentions turned out to be less than pure, it could lead him directly to his own demise. Then again, it could all be a lie, and the voice wanted something completely different than what it had claimed. He didn¡¯t know; all he had was a promise of greatness and, now that it had found an outlet, the anger was slowly morphing into something else; hope, he realised it was, and, despite realising that it could very well be the end of him, Alleyn chose to give in to childish naivety¡­


    ***


    Alleyn sat up and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands as a shiver went through his body when he remembered what he¡¯d just experienced. The moment he¡¯d told the voice he¡¯d accept its help was immediately followed by Alleyn collapsing rather hard on the floor; the pain he felt from the fall was, however, overshadowed by the hellish pain he felt as every muscle in his body seized up simultaneously.


    (¡°What happened?¡±) he asked as he stood up on unsteady legs, now noticing the slightly damp spot on the floor and the queasy feeling of sweat-soaked clothes clinging to his aching body; he¡¯d have to clean himself and his clothes, he realised, so he wobbled his way over to a side door. One of the few upsides of being forced into house arrest was the fact that the villagers had to dig a well for him so, instead of having to walk to one of the communal wells spread throughout the village like everyone else, he only had to walk through a door and he¡¯d end up in a side building housing his own private well.


    [The System startup has been completed without issue,] the voice answered in a cold monotone.


    (¡°So?¡±) Alleyn asked as he pulled his tunic off, grimacing at the sight of his twig-like arms, almost completely devoid of any muscle, and his sickly pale complexion, before he focused on cleaning his clothes in order to distract himself; he hoped that he would soon find himself slightly more ¡®pleasing¡¯ as his current living conditions didn''t allow for a lot of development, (¡°What system?¡±)


    [The System is a part of the virus likely meant to assist its host in attaining the level of power necessary to complete its assigned goal,] the voice explained before continuing, [The activation and successful integration of the System has, however, resulted in your connection to the World being severed by an outside influence.]


    (¡°What?¡±) Alleyn paused his cleaning, not quite comprehending what the voice had said.


    [The System is a part of the vir¡ª]


    (¡°No no, I heard you.¡±) Alleyn interrupted, as it was obvious what the voice was about to say, (¡°What do you mean that ¡®my connection to this World has been severed?¡¯¡±)


    [I don¡¯t know,] the voice answered, [Although it is safe to assume that you will not be subject to the same rules as everyone else. The full extent of your exile is, however, not something I am capable of predicting.]


    (¡°Then what can you do? How will you assist me, exactly?¡±) Alleyn thought angrily. Being suddenly ¡®disconnected¡¯ from the World he¡¯d lived the past sixteen years in left him feeling worried, partly due to the realisation that the voice didn¡¯t have quite as much control over the virus as it had him believe; that, or it had simply thought not to tell him, something he found equally, if not more, infuriating.


    [To answer your earlier question,] the voice began, its tone the same cold monotone it had been since it first spoke, seemingly not picking up on Alleyn¡¯s soured mood, [The System is what I believe to be the reason why the Keeper could walk down every path of power, even those that were mutually exclusive or direct opposites. Majority of the ¡®active¡¯ functions of the System does appear to have been stripped away, something I¡¯d hope to change in the future. The only active feature that seems to have been spared is that of your Status, although even that appears to be lacking in some areas. Would you like to view it?]


    (¡°Yes?¡±) Alleyn answered, unsure of what to expect, although what he saw did help tremendously by way of lessening his feelings of discontentment.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Name: Alleyn


    Age: 16


    Race: Human


    Affinities: None


    Skills: [Heightened Empathy]


    Racial Traits: [Human Adaptability]


    [Heightened Empathy:


    Use: Allows the user to know the intentions and feelings others direct at the user, as well as intuit the presence of others.]


    [Human Adaptability:


    Use: A Trait shared by all humans. The user¡¯s comprehensive ability and the development of skills will accelerate based on the user¡¯s age.]


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Looking at his only listed Skill, not that Alleyn was surprised that there was only one, he finally understood why he had been able to do some of the things he had done; one of the reasons why he couldn¡¯t bring himself to blame the Elders for what had happened to him was due the few times he¡¯d been hugged by them, resulting in waves of regret and sympathy wash over him, feelings he knew even back then weren¡¯t his own. His Racial Trait, however, wasn¡¯t anything he thought to be remarkable, due to the fact that its effects would only really come into play as he grew older, something Alleyn didn¡¯t want to wait for.


    Everything considered, he knew that he¡¯d won out immensely; he¡¯d gambled what little he had left and found a way forward.

 Chapter 5 — Plans

    Alleyn stepped out of the building addon housing his well and thought about his next course of action, only to come to the realisation that he still had no idea what to do. He somehow had to make do with the current System functions available to him until the voice somehow managed to restore the rest, something Alleyn wasn¡¯t willing to wait for as neither he nor the voice had any idea when that would happen; for all he knew, he could die of old age before the voice managed to restore even a single System function.


    Realising that he still had to take the initiative, he thought about the options available to him; he could try to gain more Skills, something the voice had confirmed was indeed possible, but what useful Skills could he develop in his current situation? He had no weapons to train with, not that that he believed he could actually develop any proficiency at using a weapon without having someone teach him. He couldn¡¯t become a Mage, either, as the mandatory affinity test he went through had informed him that he was unsuited for such things, something his Status had now confirmed too. Even if he did have an affinity for magic, however, he would¡¯ve run into the same hurdle of once again having no one to teach him; while he at the very least knew how to flail his arms around, he had no clue where he would even start on the path to becoming a proficient Mage.


    Alleyn felt frustration rise inside him once again as his mind came back to reality and realised that the ¡®advantage¡¯ of having this voice, System, and Status available to him gave him no actual edge, at least not immediately. Knowing exactly what Skills he had available to him would undoubtedly prove useful in the future but, at the present moment, it did nothing but clear up a couple of questions he didn¡¯t even have until just recently.


    Feeling a sense of hopelessness wash over him, Alleyn sat back on the same chair he had when the voice had first arrived and, as if the chair itself was the catalyst for whatever was happening, a new line came into existence, in the exact same way the first one had, before it split in two as words appeared between the two halves...


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    [Quest received: Fate¡¯s Guidance]


    Objective: Reclaim at least one Traveller¡¯s Pendant from the Overseer (0/1).


    Rewards: 1x[Unique Skill], Title: [Fate¡¯s Chosen], Restoration of System¡¯s Quest function.


    Failure Condition(s): Death, the disappearance of the targeted Traveller¡¯s Pendants.


    Penalty: Possible restoration of the System¡¯s Quest function will be removed.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    The sudden appearance of another, yet very different, pane came as a surprise, one he welcomed greatly after reading through it. While the fact that he could understand the words in the first place did confuse him, his focus quickly changed to something more peculiar: the ¡®reclaim¡¯ part of the objective. The wording seemed peculiar as, while he had no idea what a ¡®Traveller¡¯s Pendant¡¯ was, he did know what a pendant was and he was sure he¡¯d never owned one, much less lost one.


    The idea that it was the Overseer, a man Alleyn had never interacted with, supposedly had a pendant that he once had only served to further fuel his confusion. The Overseer, or more specifically Powell, was a man tasked with making sure the villagers of Trudid paid their taxes. He had apparently also helped defend Trudid against the attacks of any errant Beasts, although Alleyn didn¡¯t have the ability to confirm that as all his knowledge about Powell came curtesy of Gareth, the village Herbalist who, now that he thought about it, had been quite vocal about his dislike for Powell. Gareth obviously wasn¡¯t concerned that Alleyn would tell anyone about his distrust as he had cursed the man on numerous occasions whenever the old Herbalist came by to do his biweekly checkups.


    Powell had purportedly been quite unwilling to interact with just about anyone unless absolutely necessary, something that had changed a little under ten years ago when Powell very suddenly became friendly with the vast majority of the Trudid villagers, despite barely being able to consider anyone acquaintances. While it was certainly a process for the man to become accepted in Trudid, especially considering his status as a Mage, it wasn¡¯t long until he was treated as if he¡¯d always lived in the village. It wasn¡¯t more than a couple of visits ago that Gareth had complained about Powell having slept with his granddaughter, all while cursing the Overseer in the most colourful language Alleyn had ever heard; Gareth had also said he firmly believed that Powell had been bedding the majority of the Trudid women, all while somehow managing to remain on amicable terms with all but the most jealous men in the village, though he did manage to win over even them, something Gareth accredited to Powell being a Mage.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    (¡°Is this your doing?¡±) Alleyn asked internally in reference to the sudden appearance of this new window.


    [While this Quest does make use of a System function, it is one that I do not have access to. I would like to recommend that you do your best to complete this Quest nonetheless, as the restoration of another System function would undoubtedly help you in the future,] the voice answered and, while it was a more than a little discomforting that something else had the ability to access the System, Alleyn couldn¡¯t help but agree with this inner voice of his; it was obvious that his road forward would be much smoother if he had access to more of these Quests, especially if they all gave him rewards like this one apparently would.


    Alleyn smiled wryly as, while it was true that he didn¡¯t know what to do, becoming a thief wasn¡¯t something he had expected to happen. The choice was a simple one to make though, especially since he didn¡¯t believe it was possible to reject the Quest, at least not without incurring the penalty which, considering it seemed to be very permanent, he was quite unwilling to suffer. And so, with his mind made up, Alleyn thought about how he would go about completing the Quest; he couldn¡¯t very well just go take the pendant, don¡¯t even mention leave the house.


    Alleyn stood up after roughly ruffling his still wet hair, now having realised that he¡¯d have to wait until later to think of something; he¡¯d felt someone enter through the gate and Alleyn knew it was Gareth as, despite there still being a week and a half until his next scheduled visit, he was the only one ¡®allowed¡¯ to get close to him. Alleyn opened the door and, as he expected, on the other side he saw Gareth, a man who truly didn¡¯t look like someone his age as, despite being the third oldest in Trudid, he looked younger than even some of the middle-aged men in the village, his only signs of age being the well-groomed grey hair and beard, as well as crows feet at the edge of his eyes and  a few pronounced wrinkles on his forehead.


    ¡°Perceptive as ever,¡± Gareth remarked with a smile upon noticing Alleyn standing in the door, ¡°May I come in?¡±


    Alleyn responded with a nod as he stepped aside, holding the door open allowing Gareth to step inside with his leather satchel before he closed the door. While it was odd for Gareth to come by early, it was a welcome visit nonetheless. ¡°Well,¡± Gareth said as he sat himself down on one of the empty chairs, ¡°I thought I¡¯d check up on you since I felt you were troubled last we parted. Anything changed?¡± he asked, his voice laden with concern.


    Alleyn shook his head with a smile to relay that he was fine before he turned to the well-room to get a fresh bucket of water, the only thing he could offer the old man. It didn¡¯t feel right to not tell Gareth about what was going on, he didn¡¯t quite have the means to share his burdens with him, not that he would even if he had the option; while it certainly made Alleyn feel as if he was betraying the bond between to some extent, it seemed unfair to push his problems unto him, especially after how Gareth had vouched for him, promising to take the risk of exposing himself to whatever plagued Alleyn in exchange for the latter being allowed to stay in Trudid. No, it would be better if he didn¡¯t trouble the man any further and just did whatever he could to repay Gareth in the future.


    Walking back into the kitchen Alleyn filled two unremarkable ceramic cups and offered one to Gareth which he accepted with a polite nod, ¡°Are you completely sure you¡¯re ok?¡± he asked, motioning towards the splintered bowl Alleyn had thrown earlier. In response, Alleyn just shrugged with a somewhat forced smile on his face.


    ¡°Hmm. Well, help me prepare some herbs, will you?¡± Gareth said with slightly squinted eyes, obviously believing that there was ¡®something¡¯ wrong but ultimately decided not to pry; the boy had some of the biggest issues in the village after all, so it would be more concerning if Alleyn had simply accepted it.


    In response to Gareth''s request, Alleyn sat down opposite the man and began grinding the herbs that had been laid out before him. This was yet another reason why Alleyn had always looked forward to Gareth¡¯s visits as, besides being his only source of meaningful interaction, the deceptively young-looking Elder had been teaching him some basic Herbalism, a profession Alleyn greatly respected since it couldn¡¯t only help in treating illnesses and such, it could also help in prolonging the life of yourself and others, albeit to a lesser extent; Gareth had explained that, while he would¡¯ve loved to help ¡®preserve¡¯ the other Elders, prolonging longevity was a never-ending process that needed an extreme amount of information about the individual¡¯s body, something he simply couldn¡¯t get on anyone but himself. Even then, the fact that there hadn¡¯t been even a single illness-related death in Trudid in the last couple of centuries was more than enough for everyone in the village to respect the old man.


    Alleyn wasn¡¯t anywhere near Gareth¡¯s level obviously, mostly due to the fact that Gareth couldn¡¯t ever stay for long. But, despite that, the simple act of contributing something at all had become one of the things he looked forward to the most, although Alleyn was quite sure that the Trudid people would be less than happy should they realise that he had a hand in preparing the salves and remedies that helped keep them healthy.


    ¡°Ah, right,¡± Gareth suddenly said, bringing Alleyn¡¯s attention back to the real world as he paused his thoughtless grinding of the herbs, ¡°The Spring Festival is next week, and I¡¯ll see if I can¡¯t get you something nice to eat; how does that sound?¡± he asked and, seeing the radiantly smiling Alleyn, he couldn¡¯t help but smile himself.


    Alleyn, now in an even better mood than before, changed the herb-mush in the mortar out for another batch, as he came to a sudden realisation: the Spring Festival would likely be his best chance at completing his Quest, especially if Powell was as sociable as Gareth complained he was. In addition, since the Spring Festival was something of a ritual meant to pray for a good harvest, something everyone in the village depended on, it was uncommon for anyone besides Alleyn to not attend, leaving the Overseer¡¯s house completely unattended...

 Chapter 6 — Spring Festival

    ¡°There you are: some meat, fresh fruit, and something sweet to drink,¡± Gareth said as he set a woven basket on the small table.


    It was always a hard-fought battle to convince the others to give up some of their food, although his reputation and flawless track record when it came to curing the ill had always been enough to sway the minds of the Trudid-people, and this year was no different. It had taken him well over twenty minutes of harsh bickering to get the villagers to give in and pack what could only be seen as a meagre amount of celebratory food, at least compared to the feast everyone but Alleyn would participate in.


    It had, however, been much easier today than it had been earlier; he still dourly remembered how he had to threaten the obstinate villagers with moving away just to get them to hand him something to share with Alleyn back when the boy first got ¡®diagnosed¡¯. Gareth didn¡¯t for a moment believe the boy to be cursed but, since he wasn¡¯t sick either, he had to come up with some other explanation since, with the way the uneducated behaved in this Realm, he was concerned about what they would do if there was nothing to explain Alleyn¡¯s muteness.


    Alleyn¡¯s living conditions had been less than human ten years ago, but Gareth had slowly managed to change that, largely due to Alleyn becoming more of an after-thought as the years went by. It had even gotten to a point where he could spend upwards of half an hour with the boy without anyone asking questions, an opportunity Gareth had used to make sure that Alleyn¡¯s mental health never took ¡®too much¡¯ damage, all while teaching Alleyn the basics of Herbalism; he was hopeful that he could prepare Alleyn for moving away from Trudid and towards one of the larger cities in the coming years. He was a strong-willed and clever boy, soaking up knowledge like a sponge and, despite the circumstances, had always managed a genuine smile, so he had little concern that he wouldn¡¯t be able to handle himself in the future, even with his condition. Something he wouldn¡¯t teach him, however, was how to read and write due to the sad fact that it could bring Alleyn even more problems; it was only those on the highest seats of power that had the ability to read, so people could start asking unnecessary questions or, even worse, kidnap him in the hopes of ransoming him to a Noble family that simply didn¡¯t exist.


    Gareth had, on numerous occasions, considered adopting Alleyn, and he would have done it if not for the fear that, while the people of Trudid did largely ignore Alleyn¡¯s existence at this point, it would spark uncontrollable outrage, should the existence of Alleyn be brought to the forefront of everyone¡¯s mind. So, instead, it would be better for the boy if things continued as they had for the last decade, as he did his best to give Alleyn the tools necessary to make a life for himself elsewhere¡­


    ¡°Ah, sorry, I just got lost in my own thoughts,¡± Gareth said as he noticed the concerned look Alleyn gave him. ¡°Well, I should get going; I still have a few things to prepare before the celebrations begin. Will you be alright?¡± he asked as he sent a worried look of his own towards Alleyn; while the boy did feel more alive than he had for the last couple of years, the sudden spark of ambition in his eyes did perturb Gareth a slight bit. He had a feeling that something was about to happen, although he had no idea what that something might be. The reassuring smile that Alleyn gave in response to his question did manage to ease his guilty conscience somewhat, even if he did find the smile on Alleyn¡¯s lips to be slightly forced...


    ***


    It had been a couple of hours since Gareth left, and the celebrations of the Spring Festival were well underway; the sound of laughter and shouting were accompanied by the steady beating of drums and flute music while, above the low rooftops, Alleyn could see the tell-tale signs of a roaring fire lighting up the night sky.


    Now would be the best time to go about completing his quest to break into the Overseer¡¯s house and steal the pendant since, rather than when the festival was about to die down and people would return home, Powell¡¯s house was likely to be empty¡­ He hoped; if by some off chance Powell turned out to be at home rather than celebrating with the rest, then today could very well be his last day in Trudid. If Gareth¡¯s description about Powell being very sociable were to be trusted, however, Alleyn believed his chances to be heavily weighted in his favour.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    [I recommend that you get going,] the monotone voice said, breaking Alleyn out of his thoughts, [Every second you delay will increase the odds that the Overseer will return home.]


    The voice was right, and Alleyn knew he was simply stalling, redirecting his thoughts to keep the creeping fear that something would go wrong at bay. Opening the door, he looked out at the front yard; it was well lit, allowing him to see the overgrown weeds and grass, only broken up by a thin path of downtrodden grass that lead to the dilapidated fence gate. While Alleyn was fully capable of cleaning the inside of his house, this would be the first time he would leave in ten years, resulting in the outside of the small building accumulating a decade worth of decay. Someday, he would finally manage to clean it all, or even build an entirely new house for himself.


    He was stalling again, he realised. Alleyn saw his yard just about every day and yet, now that he was finally about to step into it, it suddenly felt foreign. But there was no way around what he had to do unless he decided to give up. So, with a deep breath, Alleyn stepped onto the trail and breathed a sigh of relief. Closing the door behind him he walked towards the gate; there was no point in locking it since no one would come by anyway, not to mention that it could get him into trouble if he was caught outside as he struggled to get the door unlocked.


    Beyond the gate, Alleyn stepped onto the more well-travelled path of compacted dirt and winced. A sharp rock had managed to cut the sole of his right foot through his shoe, one that was made of very thin leather, yet another of the ¡®benefits¡¯ he enjoyed: free clothes. All the clothes he had were, obviously, of worse make than what Gareth wore, but he, presumably along with all the other villagers, had to contribute to the village in order to get clothes; so, with Alleyn not having contributed anything the villagers knew of, it was natural that they would be unwilling to make good clothes for free. Even then, and despite knowing that the majority of what he owned was second-hand, it all contributed to his earlier self-loathing; now, it reaffirmed his resolve to do something meaningful to repay the people of Trudid.


    Now, stepping gingerly, both as to not get a repeat of what had just happened as well as to not step on the wound, Alleyn crouched down and made his way towards the back of his house; his plan was to move along the outskirts of the village, away from the fire blazing in the centre square in order to avoid the other villagers, before making his way back inwards once he had made it to the other end of the village. He didn¡¯t know exactly what Powell¡¯s house was located, but it was supposed to be the best one in Trudid, yet another thing Gareth had complained about to no end.


    A sudden change in lighting brought Alleyn back to reality; he stood completely still, crouched down low to the ground, paralyzed. The change was caused by a shadow, likely from one of the Trudid people. The thought of being caught outside and the consequences that would follow made his heart race; he couldn¡¯t hear it, but felt as if it was about to break out of his ribcage. It wasn¡¯t until he found himself out of breath that he finally managed to calm himself enough to look around, heaving for breath. Complete silence did have some benefits he thought with mixed emotion; it was the first time ever that Alleyn was actually thankful for whatever ailed him.


    Looking around, Alleyn saw several stretched shadows dance across the ground, all originating from people dancing merrily around the fire. It was quite envious, the almost tangible feelings of hope and happiness radiating off of them; to think that they could behave in such a way, all while they had forced him to live the last ten years alone. Every year, they would feel this way, not even a shred of guilt present to taint the festive atmosphere. No, Gareth felt guilty, Alleyn was sure of that; at times, it even felt emotionally crushing to stand next to the man, resulting in Alleyn having been overwhelmed on a few occasions. He really should do something to repay the old man¡­ That was weird; he hadn¡¯t ever resented the Trudid people for their actions and, despite now knowing that he had the [Heightened Empathy] Skill, he had always required physical contact to actually intuit their feelings. And now when he looked at the dancing group of people, he felt nothing of what he did previously...


    It didn¡¯t take him more than twenty minutes to find Powell¡¯s house, and it was surprisingly easy, especially since it was the only house in the village that had a second storey. Not only that, rather than having been made of rocks and clay, as was customary in Trudid, this house was built with fired bricks painted white, supported by wooden beams; even the windows were ornate. All-in-all, the two-storey house seemed terribly misplaced as it towered above the other houses in the village.


    Now that he had found it, all he had to do was sneak inside, find the Traveller¡¯s Pendant, and get out without being seen, all things that could prove to be monstrously difficult; all entrances could be locked forcing him to break one of the windows, he didn¡¯t actually know what the Pendant looked like, and, perhaps the worst possible outcome, Powell could return at any moment. If he wasn¡¯t home already. Alleyn shook his head vigorously as he set his sights on the house once more; the windows were dark, reflecting the full moon and the light of the blazing fire, so he was hopeful that Powell was out, allowing him to go about completing his Quest unnoticed¡­

 Chapter 7 — The First

    To his luck, the front door was, for whatever reason, unlocked, and all it took was an experimental twist of the doorknob to make the door swing open. It was rather confusing to Alleyn that Powell would leave his house without locking the door, as the house almost screamed wealth, inviting people to just waltz in and take whatever they wanted, although he rationalised that, since Trudid was small enough that just about everyone knew everyone, it would be rather foolish to try stealing from each other, since it would quickly be made apparent who had stolen what.


    Alleyn, meanwhile, had the advantage of not being supposed to leave his own home, let alone get inside anyone else¡¯s, so he didn¡¯t expect anyone would even so much as think that he had been the one to do it.


    Quickly stepping inside Powell¡¯s house while silently closing the door behind him, Alleyn paused to let his eyes adjust to the shadowed inside; while the larger than ordinary windows let plenty of moonlight in, the spacious interior meant that there were places that even the full-moon couldn¡¯t illuminate. A few tens of seconds of blinking and waiting were, thankfully, enough for Alleyn to adjust so that he could see well enough to begin exploring the house, although the majority of the finer details were still indistinguishable.


    But where should he start looking? Where would someone keep a pendant? The bedroom seemed like the most likely candidate, so Alleyn set out looking for just that. The house was made up of two floors: the first one contained a kitchen, dining room, and a small room obviously meant for more ¡®private¡¯ affairs. With nothing even remotely looking like a bedroom on the first floor, that left only the second floor. With this thought, Alleyn made his way up the stairs as he ran his hand along the rail, once more remarking on the ¡®polished¡¯ feel to the house; everything he¡¯d touched so far felt smooth and well-made, without even a single wood-grain being out of place, a far cry from his decade long experience with splinter-inducing furniture.


    Standing atop the stairs, Alleyn saw three doors placed parallel to the stairs, only separated by a guardrail and some flooring to allow one to traverse. He started with opening the door closest to the stairs and found himself in a room dimly lit by a small lamp of sorts, with a large basin, a drain, bathing utensils, and a large shiny metallic plate, leading him to believe that he had stumbled upon Powell¡¯s bathroom, which was puzzling since it made little sense to have a bathroom on the second floor, since that would mean you had to walk all the way downstairs just to get water. Looking around, Alleyn saw a metal pipe with a handle in one corner of the room and, upon moving the handle, water came out of the pipe. He did not, however, see any way of actually heating the water, although Powell could just prefer cold baths to warm ones.


    It didn¡¯t take Alleyn many minutes to conclude that the pendant was unlikely to be inside this room since there was simply no place to store jewellery; no small boxes, no cupboards, no drawers. Just a single shelf that was filled up with various bottles and knives. Turning around, Alleyn saw something moving out of the corner of his eye. Turning, swiftly, towards the source, he calmed his erratic heart when he realised what it was: himself. He had spotted his own movements reflected in the large plate that was positioned up against one of the walls. It was a beautiful thing, this slab of metal, as it reflected the room to an almost impossible degree, including himself.


    Alleyn hadn¡¯t ever seen his own reflection, at least not completely. He had only ever seen bits of himself reflected in water and such, and never in his entirety. Now that he had, he almost wished he hadn¡¯t. He felt disheartened and shameful as he observed himself. His dark hair was unruly and cut unevenly, the result of his amateurish attempts at grooming it; his arms were scrawny and thin-looking as they poked out of the sleeves of a rough, brown tunic, entirely too big for his small frame. The pants he wore were almost more patches than the original fabric, and his thin leather shoes were mismatched and different in size; he had noticed this when he first got them, but it almost seemed like the boots weren¡¯t actually a pair. Looking back up, Alleyn found his eyes, clear and determined. He didn¡¯t want to continue to look like this, and he wouldn¡¯t. He finally had a chance to become better than the boy that was simply locked away and forgotten by most. He could change.


    And he would.


    ***


    Alleyn opened the middle door with newfound determination and saw what he was looking for: the bedroom. Stepping inside, however, made it almost immediately apparent that the pendant wouldn¡¯t be here. He saw two things: a bed that took up the vast majority of the available space, and a large wardrobe. Alleyn quickly ruled out the bed, especially since the bottom part of it seemed to be made from one solid block of wood, making it impossible for him to even look under it. That left the wardrobe which, upon looking inside of it, revealed to have nothing but clothes and a couple of pairs of boots. It made little sense to Alleyn; pendants and other jewellery could, technically, be classified as clothing, right? Wouldn¡¯t it then make sense to put one¡¯s jewellery with the rest of one¡¯s clothes?Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Feeling a slight twinge of desperation, Alleyn rummaged through the bedding, moving the blanket and pillows aside he found nothing but a few articles of clothing that wouldn¡¯t suit a man; perhaps there was some merit to Gareth¡¯s complaints, after all? Putting everything back as he found them, Alleyn was certain that, even if he didn¡¯t find the pendant, at least Powell wouldn¡¯t think anyone had been here, and so, with that done, he moved on to the last door.


    This room was entirely different as, in addition to being very well lit and the largest of the three rooms, it felt the most enclosed. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled to the brim with books of various colours, or other objects such as knives, staves, bottles, jars, and so on. In addition, there was a rather large desk pushed against the far wall and a single cushioned chair that looked way more comfortable than what he was used to and, on the table itself, Alleyn found yet more books. He likely would¡¯ve felt tempted to look through them, if not for the fact that he wouldn¡¯t be able to make sense of even a single letter. All in all, the room made him feel hopeful that he would be able to complete his Quest.


    Browsing through the shelves he found several items of interest, but no pendant. Making his way back to the desk, Alleyn once more found himself questioning the sanity of Powell as, despite the desk¡¯s drawer obviously being able to be locked, he could just tug them open, revealing the insides; one single book, an ornate looking dagger, a metallic disc with an elaborate engraving, and a small wooden box. The book was useless to him, the dagger, while it certainly looked like it could sell for a small fortune, was also useless, the engravings on the disc told him nothing, leaving the small box.


    Picking it up, Alleyn opened it, revealing two black cracked crystals, each attached to a thin, metallic, string. Just looking at them, Alleyn knew he¡¯d found them: the Traveller¡¯s Pendants. Curiously, however, there was no new panel telling him that he had completed the quest, although this could be due to him still being inside of Powell¡¯s house, and therefore not technically having fully ¡®reclaimed¡¯ the pendants yet. Pocketing the pendants, Alleyn closed the box and put it back into the drawer. At this point, he couldn¡¯t really do much more than hope that Powell didn¡¯t have a habit of opening the box¡­


    ¡°The hell are you?!¡± his heart was suddenly in his throat, as he spun around with a jump and wide-eyes. Alleyn didn¡¯t know the owner of the gruff voice coming from the doorway, considering where he was, it was obvious who it was. Powell stood there, blocking the door with his large frame. Looking into the man¡¯s face, Alleyn saw what he believed to be the briefest look of realisation before it transitioned into fear, and then into wrath. He knew; Alleyn knew that Powell had recognised him. This was it; he was done. The worst-case scenario had happened. What could he do now? Nothing, right? There was nowhere to run, not with Powell standing in the doorway. Then what?


    Breaking Alleyn out his thoughts, Powell didn¡¯t seem intent on letting Alleyn think of something, as he drunkenly stomped his way towards Alleyn.


    [Use the dagger,] a cold voice tore through his fear-clouded mind.


    (¡°The dagger?¡±) Alleyn thought back, only now remembering the ornate dagger laying in the desk drawer, (¡°For what?!¡±)


    He felt the leatherbound handle grasped tightly in his hand, then, in the next moment, he saw Powell¡¯s widened eyes as the Overseer collapsed. He felt a warm liquid coating his hand and clothes. Alleyn had no idea ¡®how¡¯ he had done it, but he had. He had killed him; he had somehow managed to cut the man¡¯s throat.


    Blinking, Alleyn continued and failed to comprehend how he, in the panicked state he was in, managed to kill Powell. He hadn¡¯t been actively trying to do it, either; instead, his body had moved completely on its own, somehow grabbing the dagger and swinging it at the charging man. Alleyn didn¡¯t get long to think, however, as something happened on Powell¡¯s quickly cooling body: a necklace he had worn on the outside of his clothes had lit up with an almost glaring red, before it cracked, releasing what loosely resembled an eye formed out of red mist. The eye spun once around the room before ultimately focusing on Alleyn and then, in the next second, it disappeared into thin air.


    Despite Alleyn not understanding what had just happened, the event did give him the impression that he had been found out, and not just by the now-dead Powell. Since the eye had been released shortly after Powell fell, it didn¡¯t take much of an imagination to think that it was some magical means of finding out who had killed whoever wore the necklace, and idea the man being a mage made seem infinitely more plausible. This did, however, mean that he couldn¡¯t stay in Trudid. He had to run. But where to he didn¡¯t know¡­


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    [Quest received: Fate¡¯s Guidance II]


    Objective: Make it to the city of Battsek alive.


    Rewards: Minor increase in any one Skill or Racial Trait.


    Failure Condition(s): Death.


    Penalty: Death.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª

 Chapter 8 — Leave, Rest

    Alleyn slammed the door closed with perhaps a bit too much force than he should have, although now was hardly the time to worry about such a thing. His mind was still reeling from the thought of having killed someone, and so instinctually; while he was still questioning why the voice would mention the dagger, his body had already managed to kill a man. The sprint back to his house had only made it worse as, with the night¡¯s wind still having the cold bite of winter, it had done ¡®wonders¡¯ for bringing clarity to his mind.


    Thinking back to what had happened shortly after Powell died, Alleyn remembered the floating eye that gave the distinct impression that it had somehow imprinted his features and sent them off to somewhere else as a way of sealing his fate, something his instincts were screaming to be the correct idea.


    Letting his eyes wander over the darkened interior of his own, more modest, home, Alleyn thought about what to do; it seemed almost counterintuitive for him to travel to Battsek, considering that was likely where Powell had been sent from. Although, whoever would be looking for him wouldn¡¯t expect him to be hiding so close to them, right? It was a desperate idea, and a crazy one, but his newly obtained Quest did appease the majority of his concerns, especially with how ¡®lenient¡¯ the Quest was. The failure condition and penalty were one and the same: death, not at all mentioning anything about what would happen should he not go to Battsek, leaving him to believe that it was ultimately his own choice; very much unlike the first Quest he got.


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    [Quest completed: Fate¡¯s Guidance]


    Objective: Reclaim at least one Traveller¡¯s Pendant from the Overseer (2/1).


    Rewards: 1x[Unique Skill], Title: [Fate¡¯s Chosen], Restoration of System¡¯s Quest function.


    Unique Skill acquired: [Unveil]


    Title acquired: [Fate¡¯s Chosen]


    System¡¯s Quest function has been restored


    [Fate¡¯s Chosen:


    Let the hand of Fate guide you to greatness.]


    ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª


    Alleyn suddenly remembering his first Quest seemed to have triggered the completion of it, although, now having read through it, it felt strangely anti-climatic. His new Skill, [Unveil], had no explanation about what it did leaving him completely in the dark as to its use, although the explanation tagged on to his new Title, despite being meagre, did help him to make up his mind. Both of the Quests he¡¯d gotten had been called ¡®Fate¡¯s Guidance¡¯ and, now with the description of the [Fate¡¯s Chosen] Title, he felt it safe to assume that it truly was ¡®Fate¡¯ guiding him. That being the case, why wouldn¡¯t he follow along? The System, or perhaps Fate itself, had promised him ¡®greatness¡¯, which would undoubtedly help him on his road to finding the entity that had pulled him from the void.


    With that in mind, Alleyn quickly set about filling a burlap sack with whatever he thought he¡¯d need on his travel. Once more mentally thanking Gareth for all he¡¯d done, Alleyn packed what should be enough dried meat for three or four days, or a little more than a week if he ate sparingly, as well as the fruit he¡¯d gotten just a couple of hours ago, along with a couple of jars of water; the jars would be heavy once filled but, since he didn¡¯t know what to expect along the road, they were a necessity.


    Rolling up the few blankets he had, Alleyn tied them together with a small length of rope. They were thin and coarse, the latter of which he¡¯d grown used to over the years, but it was all he had as preparation for keeping the night¡¯s cold at bay when he inevitably had to sleep. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Sorting through the clothes he had, Alleyn couldn¡¯t help but lament the fact that he didn¡¯t have any shoes besides the ones already on his feet. He¡¯d have to watch his every step so as to avoid a repeat of him cutting his feet on an ill-placed and sharp stone. Something he did have, however, was a cloak; he hadn¡¯t ever used it for anything outside, for obvious reasons, but it had kept him warm during the winter months. It had been one of Gareth¡¯s own, so it was the highest quality of clothing he had, being made out of wool instead of linen. There wasn¡¯t really any point in packing extra clothes since all it would take was one rainy day and everything he¡¯d packed would be soaked, although this was unlikely to happen; the early spring had always been dry, and he hoped that this year wouldn¡¯t be different.


    Hoisting the sack over his shoulder, Alleyn set out. It didn¡¯t feel safe staying in Trudid throughout the night; with every passing moment, the odds of someone finding Powell¡¯s corpse increased, which could lead to drastic consequences. Even if no one in the village would realistically make the assumption that it was Alleyn that had killed Powell, the village could erupt in chaos, perhaps leading to a village-wide search for the murderer. Alleyn didn¡¯t think for a single second that he would be exempt from this should it happen, resulting in whoever came to search his house finding the still blood-stained clothes as well as the¡­


    Why did he still have the dagger? Was he truly that big of an idiot, that he take the murder-weapon with him back home? What would he even do with it? Bury it inside the house? It would leave very obvious marks if he were to dig up the dirt floor since it was hardened from years of walking on it, so that wasn¡¯t even an option. Must have been the fact that his mind wasn¡¯t quite in the right place, Alleyn rationalised. It still wasn¡¯t. Perhaps it was better if he brought it with him, that way he could dump it along the road, or even bury it where no one would find it¡­


    ***


    It had been a few hours since the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon when Alleyn thought to pause. He¡¯d found the road leading to Battsek with ease, as it was the largest of the paths connecting to Trudid, the rest leading to the various farmlands surrounding the village, and he¡¯d been walking for what he thought to be a couple of hours. Now, about two hours past the most remote farmland, Alleyn was out of energy; he hadn¡¯t eaten since lunch of yesterday, as he was simply too nervous to have an appetite. Not only that, he hadn¡¯t slept since the previous morning, either, something that had hit him quite brutally now that he had calmed down.


    And so, hoping that people wouldn¡¯t be awake for another couple of hours following a night of festivities, Alleyn made his way into the forest, wanting to use the shrubbery for hiding as he slept. Thankful that the morning dew was gone, he set about untying and setting out his blankets before he sat down and bit into one of the apples Gareth had given him. While it hadn¡¯t set in yet, Alleyn was sure that he¡¯d miss the young-looking Elder in a few weeks time. It was surreal to think that he wouldn¡¯t see him as he had greatly enjoyed the bi-weekly visits, although that wasn¡¯t much of a surprise since Gareth was literally the only source of interaction Alleyn had. Now, he may very well never see him again¡­


    Alleyn swallowed a mouthful of water in an attempt at trying to push away the creeping feelings of homesickness. With that proving to be useless, he instead thought to focus his mind on something more important: his new Skill. Bringing up his Status, he confirmed that there was, indeed, no explanation tagged onto the Skill, unlike his [Heightened Empathy], which he could still see the description of if he wanted. So, with no other choice, Alleyn asked the one entity that could, hopefully, shine some light on the matter.


    (¡°Why is there no description for [Unveil]?¡±) he asked the voice, (¡°How do I use it?¡±)


    [The lack of description is likely due to its nature as a Unique Skill] the voice replied, its voice the same calming cold as ever, [And it would appear that you are lacking some requirements to activate it.]


    The answer wasn¡¯t exactly what Alleyn had hoped for, even if it did annoy him to some degree. Not only had he gotten a Skill that he couldn¡¯t use, but he also didn¡¯t even know what it did had he been able to activate it. He had killed a man and been forced to flee his home of sixteen years, all for what basically amounted to nothing.


    It took Alleyn a handful of moments to calm down but, likely due to his lingering anger, he found himself to be remarkably less tired than before. So, with nothing better to do, he thought about his immediate future. Gareth had told him in passing that some villagers made the trek to Battsek every now and again, and it usually only took them a little over a week to make the trip and return, so he was optimistic that, despite his less than stellar physique, he would be able to make it before his food and water ran dry.


    That not being much of a concern meant that he should be able to complete his second Quest, too, one that looked to give him a more immediately useful reward: a ¡®Minor increase in any one Skill or Racial Trait¡¯. It made little sense to use it on his [Unveil], considering he couldn¡¯t even use the damn skill, leaving [Heightened Empathy] and [Human Adaptability] as his only choices. Thinking about it, Alleyn couldn¡¯t find a real reason to use it on the former of the two, since the only thing he could think of happening would be him being able to better intuit what others felt. The latter, meanwhile, would boost his comprehensive ability based on his age, something that seemed much better in the short term, as well as the long term. Even if he didn¡¯t know how many years a ¡®minor increase¡¯ would equate to, he was hopeful that it would give him an edge in whatever situation he might find himself in.


    With his mind made up, Alleyn brought his attention to the final of his rewards: the Quest function. Having no idea how to access it, he briefly thought about asking the voice, but ultimately decided to experiment. It didn¡¯t take long for him to realise that all it took was a single thought for it to appear, much like his Status, resulting in a new panel floating in his vision with the caption ¡®Quest List¡¯ at the top. Unlike his Status, and its name as a ¡®list¡¯, the panel was very much empty, with the name of the function being the only sentence on the entire pane...

 Chapter 9 — A Taciturn Companion

    Alleyn sat up with a yawn. He didn¡¯t remember when he¡¯d fallen asleep, but looking through the forest canopy made it clear that he had slept longer than intended. The sky was tinged with the warm colours of evening. He had obviously overtaxed himself greatly recently, so he wasn¡¯t surprised that he¡¯d from late morning until late afternoon. Alleyn hadn¡¯t realised how much he had needed that sleep until now; his mind felt clearer than before, and his body didn¡¯t ache anymore, so any would-be feelings of regret were quickly snuffed out.


    He should get a move on. The faster he got to Battsek the faster he could figure out what to do next. Or, perhaps the smarter choice, he could think about it while walking. Packing up what little he¡¯d set out, Alleyn slung the sack over his shoulder. He hadn¡¯t taken more than a couple of steps towards the road, however, when a feeling that he¡¯d forgotten something struck him. The dagger, he thought. Turning back, he quickly found it in the high shrubbery, the polished blade having caught a bit of light.


    Alleyn reached for it but hesitated. Should he still bring it with him? It was obvious to anyone who saw it, and him, that he wouldn¡¯t own anything of such high quality, not that he expected to run into anyone on this road. Bury it, then? That felt¡­ wrong, somehow, although Alleyn wasn¡¯t sure why. He was too close to the village, he reasoned. It was a plausible explanation for why he felt the way he did, even if he knew it was incorrect. Still, it was a valid point, and there wouldn¡¯t be any harm in burying it later.


    He¡¯d do that, Alleyn decided. He¡¯d bury it tomorrow. Now, he really should go. He didn¡¯t know how long he had to walk before he reached Battsek, but night was on its way. Yesterday was a full moon, so that wouldn¡¯t be an issue. The moonlight should be more than enough to illuminate the road ahead, allowing him to walk throughout the night. Then, he could hopefully fix his schedule and wake up with the sun as he was used to. It would get chilly as night came, sure, but he had Gareth¡¯s old cloak to help stave off the worst of it.


    Alleyn picked up the bladed weapon and made for the road. He¡¯d walk until he was tired and then a bit more. It shouldn¡¯t take many days before he reached Battsek in that manner.


    Setting foot on the dirt road, he looked back towards the direction of Trudid, and couldn¡¯t help the nostalgia welling up inside of him; it had been his home for sixteen years, and now he was about to leave it behind. Maybe that¡¯s for the better. The vast majority of the Trudid people didn¡¯t like him but still had to provide for him, something he had often thought of as unfair, even if he knew he couldn¡¯t live without what they gave him. He¡¯d live his own life from now on...


    He noticed something, looking back down the road: there was nothing but forest. He didn¡¯t think he¡¯d walked so far past the last bit of farmland that he would be unable to see the forest¡¯s end if even just as a slight difference in colour. He shook his head and turned away, rationalising that, since he had walked during nighttime, it would¡¯ve been easy for him to miss judged for how long he¡¯d travelled. In the end, it was a good thing if he had walked further than expected; that just meant he would arrive sooner, if even by a little.


    Now finally on his way, Alleyn thought about what he would do upon making it to Battsek. He didn¡¯t have anything to offer back in Trudid, much less a larger city like where he was going. His most remarkable skill would be what little he had been taught by Gareth when it came to herbalism, but even that ¡®skill¡¯ wasn¡¯t an actual ¡®Skill¡¯. Alleyn was confident that, even if he hadn¡¯t done it before, he could make a couple of salves, even if their efficacy wouldn¡¯t be anywhere near what Gareth could manage, so why wasn¡¯t it recognised as a Skill?


    Tens of seconds passed, but Alleyn still couldn¡¯t come up with an answer. So, he turned to the one entity that could, hopefully, enlighten him. (¡°Why don¡¯t I have a Skill related to herbalism listed on my Status?¡±) he asked the voice.


    The voice answered almost the moment his thought had faded, its tone the same inhuman cold as always, [It seems that you¡¯re missing one or more requirements.]


    Great. Then he truly had nothing to offer. Well, he had killed a man, so that was something. For a moment, he humoured the thought that he could somehow make a living off of killing people. It was a chilling thought, one that sent a shiver up his spine. Thinking back, it was obvious that Powell hadn¡¯t been sober. The only explanation for how he had even managed to live through that event was that Powell had drunkenly stumbled into Alleyn¡¯s dagger. Realistically, he didn¡¯t even know how to kill someone without getting himself killed along the way, although he didn¡¯t want to live by killing, even if he could.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Bringing his straying train of thought back to the start, Alleyn came to a simple conclusion: he had no idea what to do. Letting a silent sigh past his lips, he shook his head and forced a smile on his face. He had to make it to Battsek before anything else, so why even think about the future before then? It was his first time outside in too long, and Alleyn wanted to enjoy it as best he could. The sounds of the forest, the birdsong and the leaves¡¯ rustling, was a novel experience. Yes, he could hear the same sounds from his home back in Trudid, but the surroundings made it something else. And, come to think of it, ¡®Fate¡¯ did seem to have plans for him, right?


    He would manage just fine.


    Despite his positivity, it didn¡¯t take long for boredom to set in. (¡°So uh¡­ what do I call you?¡±) Alleyn asked. He had been referring to it as nothing more than a voice, but it was obviously more than that, so it seemed somewhat unfair to not treat it as such.


    [As I have already told you, my name is Project: Cleanse] the voice responded.


    Of course, Alleyn could remember that; such a name was almost too weird to forget. But that was the issue on Alleyn¡¯s mind: (¡°That just doesn¡¯t sound very human.¡±)


    [I¡¯m not human.] Alleyn shook his head; he knew that even if he didn¡¯t know exactly what it was. He wanted to somehow connect with the voice, something he felt the ¡®very¡¯ uncommon name stood in the way of, to some extent. And, having a conversational partner would surely help when it came to passing time.


    (¡°Can I call you ¡®Cleanse¡¯, instead?¡±) Even if the name was still ¡®inhuman¡¯ to some degree, it felt more natural, if only slightly. Who knew, perhaps being called Cleanse was actually commonplace somewhere else?


    [Yes.] Alleyn smiled. That was one issue out of the way. Now he just had to somehow make Cleanse ¡®sound¡¯ more human.


    Perhaps being friendly would help? (¡°Let¡¯s get along.¡±)


    [Naturally.]


    Apparently not. The taciturn nature of Cleanse wasn¡¯t something he could deal with, not with his own crippled conversational skills. Maybe he should work on himself first, then. Alleyn cleared his throat awkwardly and brought his attention to something else: the dagger.


    He didn¡¯t have a sheath for it, and nowhere else to put it, so he had been carrying it in his free hand since he woke up. Adjusting his grip, Alleyn experimentally ran his thumb over the blade, gently, leaving a thin trail of red while getting an itchy cut. The edge was sharp, almost impossibly so, he couldn¡¯t help but remark, sharper than anyone of the knives he¡¯d ever owned. Relief washed over him when he thought of what would¡¯ve happened had he pressed down on the blade.


    Turning it over, he examined the engravings on the flat of the blade: there were patterns, symbols, he realised, that gave him the vague impression that they served some use other than just being pretty. He counted three symbols in total. Alleyn felt a slight ache at the back of his eyes, although it disappeared the moment he stopped studying the symbols. The momentary pain was enough for his interest to wane, at least for the moment; right now didn¡¯t seem like the best moment to cultivate a headache.


    Alleyn dropped his arm down to his side and adjusted the sack slung over his shoulder. He winced. It was getting heavy, mostly due to the water jars, and it had been digging into the same spot on his shoulder for the last couple of hours. Pausing for a moment to swap shoulder, he continued on his way. Battsek was still a ways away¡­


    ***


    Night had fallen, and his surroundings had grown quiet; the only sound present was the occasional night¡¯s breeze blowing past the tree-tops, rustling the light branches at the top.


    Alleyn continued walking, largely unimpeded by the darkness. It had been as he had hoped: the sky was clear, letting the waning full moonlight up his path in a gentle glow. That was, however, all he could see; the forest¡¯s undergrowth was sheltered from the light, covered in the canopy¡¯s shadow.


    He was tired and ready to rest, but that wasn¡¯t the plan. The path was lit well enough tonight, yes, but it would only get progressively worse as the moon waned. He would have to fix his sleeping schedule unless he wanted to fumble his way along a dark and unfamiliar road. No, he would have to continue walking until the afternoon or, at the very least, late morning. That would hopefully be enough to tire him out so he could sleep until morning. He could¡¯ve tried to sleep through the night, but he had a feeling that he¡¯d be unable to fall asleep.


    At this rate, however, that seemed unlikely. Alleyn stifled his umpteenth yawn while rubbing his eyes. Letting his eyes wander along the forest-line Alleyn thought about what to do; he¡¯d have to somehow stay awake for another eight or so hours. A glimpse of light from the shrubbery caught his attention. With another step, it was gone. Likely the moonlight reflected in a puddle.


    Or something else. Who knew who, or what, called the forest home? It could¡¯ve been a Beast, one of those Gareth had told him of. Alleyn suddenly found himself to be very awake, every sound magnified in his ears. The sound of rustling vegetation from the left made him jump, his heart racing erratically. He¡¯d only been fantasising to keep himself entertained, but what if it was true? What if, the moment he turned around, he¡¯d be face to face with the gaping maw of some unspeakable creature? A cold breeze flew past him, making it clear what the sound was: the wind. There was nothing out there; just his fantasy.


    A calm settled over Alleyn, and with it came weariness; both in body and mind. His legs were just as sore as they had been yesterday, if not more so, and the travel had drained him. It shouldn¡¯t hurt, resting for a moment. Just to rest his body and fill his stomach. He could feel his stomach grumble at the thought of food, even if he couldn¡¯t hear it. So be it. He¡¯d rest, eat until he wasn¡¯t hungry and wet his parched throat, then continue onwards.