ã€ŠShitposting in Another Worldã€‹


 Post 1

    I arrived home late at night after a long day¡¯s drive and walked into my house. A familiar mutt scampers up to me, its tail wagging. After petting Jackie for a while, I put food and water in her bowls, then fill a glass for myself with ice and water. I sit down in my room where my computer is. Jackie jumps onto my bed and curls up like usual. I turn on the PC and plug in my phone to recharge. It¡¯s my backup GPS when I¡¯m doing deliveries, after all. Getting lost while driving a semi-truck has happened to me before, and it¡¯s awful. I open up my internet browser.

    The heavy shitposting begins. I¡¯ve always been a filthy omniboarder, continually honing my skills in (You) collection across the map of 4chan, the place I frequent every day. Today is 4/20, so ¡°dude weed¡± posting is rampant. Cycling between boards, I mock waifus in threads on /a/, create ¡°subtle¡± /pol/ threads on /v/, and praise the Powerpuff Girls remake on /co/. I derail the actual discussion with post number roulettes, and execute the classic ¡°reply to literally every post in the thread with one post and call them fanciful young lads.¡± It¡¯s like a game to me, as I fulfill my deep desire to be the most obnoxious piece of shit possible.

    /co/ is particularly active right now because we¡¯re fast approaching its 100m GET, a landmark any aspiring shitposter would love to acquire and ruin for everyone. I spot a fellow shitposter trying to derail a Cal-arts thread with a ¡°reply to this and¡± image, and obviously, I humor this brother in arms with a reply to his cheap post in an awful thread. Just as I hit submit, I hear a noise like an engine starting in my yard.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    While I typically waste time online, my one real hobby is renovating cars and trucks. I¡¯m primarily an /o/ poster when I¡¯m actually contributing to the discussion. This house is an old farmhouse, and I use the barn to store my projects. The engine noise sounded like it came from my barn, and I¡¯m the only one that lives here, so I¡¯m immediately put on edge. I grab my shotgun, turn on the mounted light, and head out into the yard. If someone is actually here and is armed, I¡¯d really rather they not shoot my dog, so I close the door, so Jackie can¡¯t get out.

    Nobody has ever tried to do anything to my property before, so I¡¯m not really sure how to handle this. Anyone can read a self-defense story, but living it is another issue. If I were acting intelligently, I¡¯d lock my doors and call the police, but those are MY cars. The starting of an engine means that someone could be hotwiring one of them, but hasn¡¯t driven out yet. The main barn door is still closed, which is already strange. I enter through the side door of my barn and begin quickly checking the interior of the building without coming entirely into the room.

    None of them are on, but he could have turned it off to go to check another car. I take a risk I shouldn¡¯t take, and shout into the barn.

    >Get the fuck out of my barn!

    I then pump the shotgun audibly and get as ready as can be¡­ nothing happens. There¡¯s no noise or movement in the barn. The only sound I hear is my own breathing and heartbeat. He could be hiding inside one of the cars or trucks, waiting for me to give up and leave. Unfortunately for him, I¡¯m a dumbass. I begin checking the insides of the cars one by one. I¡¯m interrupted when a car on the opposite side of the building turns on, shining its light in the dark barn. I point the gun and cross through the middle of the barn towards the car.

    Suddenly, the cars and trucks in the barn start turning on one by one, the sound of their engines growing louder. I begin desperately shining the light on my gun into the cars, but I can¡¯t see anyone in any of the driver¡¯s seats. Their high-beams turn on simultaneously, and quickly grow brighter and brighter, with me in the middle. Before I know it, everything is white, and everything is quiet.

 Post 2

    Those fuckers on /x/ lied, you can¡¯t do SHIT when you¡¯re lucid dreaming. I¡¯m currently floating naked in a white void-like space. I¡¯ve attempted to ¡°swim¡± in various directions, but I can¡¯t even discern the landscape to tell whether or not I¡¯m actually heading anywhere. It¡¯s been about ten minutes, and I¡¯m starting to get restless. After the light in the barn blinded me, I appeared here completely naked without anything I was carrying. Maybe this is one of those dreams where you think you know you¡¯re dreaming, but you still can¡¯t exert control? I decide to pull a page right out of Yume Nikki, and I pinch myself really hard on the cheek.

    >Ah.

    I let out a noise as I feel the pain of the excessive pinch I just gave myself. It¡¯s not a dream? Then am I dead? Do the dead feel pain? I don¡¯t think the light actually killed me, so what the hell is this? Purgatory? I begin thinking to myself for a while. A long while. Even if I took my cell phone with me to the barn, everything I had disappeared, so I can¡¯t track the time. An hour? Two hours? I start to feel hungry. I should have eaten when I got home. Wait, I¡¯m hungry? Am I fucked?This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    I get hungrier as time passes. I¡¯m also very bored. I can¡¯t seem to go anywhere in this place. Do I cross that line? Are you a bad enough dude to do this in an endless void? Nobody seems to be coming to save me from here anyway. After thinking about the consequences, of which I can think of many, I resolve myself to start fapping since I have nothing better to do. My pants are already gone. I really wish I had my phone. What ended up being /co/¡¯s 100m GET anyway?

    Everyone knows the best way to scare off ghosts is to whip out your dick and jerk off in front of them. It¡¯s only logical. Therefore, to dispel what appears to be a magical space, I do just that and begin tugging at my junk. It¡¯s a gamble I¡¯m willing to take because I¡¯ve run out of options as far as I¡¯m aware. I¡¯m finding it difficult to fap without material though, so I¡¯m focusing as best I can on remembering what doujins I read last night. God, I hope this works.

    I didn¡¯t have to wait long, because after touching myself for a little while I noticed an area in front of me started to turn hazy. I was utterly convinced that masturbating was tearing open a rip in space-time, so I upped my pace. Before I knew it, the world was engulfed in darkness, and I couldn¡¯t see anymore. Suddenly, I started to feel gravity¡¯s pull once again. Panicking that I might land directly on my erect member, I try to right myself despite being unable to see anything. The ground rushes up to meet me, and I pray not to break my legs.

 Post 3

    Luckily, I seem to stop in midair before crashing into what appears to be a stone floor. It looks like there¡¯s a large blood red magical circle drawn out beneath me. I somehow slowly descend to touch the ground, and finally look up. It seems like things are about to get hectic because I¡¯m not alone in the dimly lit room and I am also still naked with a hard-on. Surrounding me on all sides are a few dozen child-sized humanoid creatures in white metal armor. Their open helmets reveal soot-colored noseless faces with two amber eyes apiece. Each of them seems to have a weapon sheathed either on their hip or their back, such as swords, axes, and maces. They watch me closely as I look around the room, but otherwise do nothing. I don¡¯t really know what to do, so I try to speak to them.

    >Hello? I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m naked, but where am I?

    Unfortunately for me, this immediately puts them on edge, and in tandem, their oversized gauntlets reach for their respective weapons. As for myself, my only weapon is quickly shrinking, and I don¡¯t really see a good way out of this situation. It doesn¡¯t seem like they understand me. The only exit from the room is a large wooden door behind the group of knights. I begin to look around in a panic for something I could use in defense, but I really am just naked here. Just as they appear to start unsheathing, the door opens up, and a figure walks through.

    A woman begins speaking in a language I¡¯ve never heard in my entire life, and the knights make way for her to walk through, their armor clinking together as they move. I finally realize that I¡¯m unsightly, and begin covering my crotch with my hands. The woman comes into view and recoils a little bit presumably because she realizes that I¡¯m naked, then composes herself, arms crossed. A little shorter than me, she¡¯s wearing what appears to be a white lab coat, brown work shoes, a blouse, and a formal black skirt. Her hair is a striking silver but doesn¡¯t appear dyed. Sticking out a few inches through her hair on the top of her head are two horns. The red horns form a lightning bolt shape before pointing backward. They don¡¯t seem to be accessories. She adjusts her wire-rim glasses and speaks once more. Is this where I make a joke about ¡°sizing me up¡±?Stolen novel; please report.

    She asks something in a questioning tone and stops to wait for my response. I¡¯ve heard virtually every spoken language on Earth via the internet, but I¡¯ve never heard this one before. The mystical nature of everything that¡¯s happened in the past few hours means that I¡¯m obviously no longer on Earth or maybe even the same dimension. How awful.

    >Hello, I¡¯m sorry for showing up uninvited, but I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on or where I am.

    I would shrug, but my hands are preoccupied covering my junk. Her fantasy-like blood red eyes open wide for a second, and then she puts her hand on her chin. I don¡¯t think she understands English. A little while passes in silence, but she eventually makes a frustrated noise and begins speaking again while making elaborate motions with her hands. I think she¡¯s doing something magical. Maybe she¡¯s using Conjure Clothes? That would be nice. I¡¯m worried, but the fact that she didn¡¯t just sic her knights on me means she¡¯s probably not about to melt my flesh. Maybe. It¡¯s not like I can fight back anyway.

    Exhaustion kicks in as she finishes casting her spell. I never did rest after that day at work. I¡¯ve been awake for a long time today. Something inside me begins to scream out that I should resist whatever is happening. A bad feeling wells up. I open my mouth and try to call out, but I produce no noise. I fall to the ground with a thud, and before my eyes close I see the knights approaching. Before I fall unconscious, I feel like I lose something important. I hope Jackie is alright¡­

 Post 4

    This ceiling is white like mine back home but remains an unfamiliar ceiling. I stare upward for some time after I awake. Shifting a little, I feel clothing on my body. The texture of the clothes and the bedding is relieving after several hours floating in a void, followed by collapsing face first into a stone floor. After the spell hit and I passed out, they must have had me dressed before placing me here. It¡¯s nice to know that they don¡¯t plan on killing me for the time being. I¡¯m pretty happy not being dead.

    I get out of the bed and check myself over. There appears to be no issue with my physical body, but it feels like something is wrong. I can¡¯t quite tell what that is yet, though. The clothes are rather bland, and appear to be handmade. Not gonna win any praise on /fa/. The walls have a simple floral pattern, and the hardwood floor is cool to the touch. It¡¯s dark in the room, but there¡¯s light streaming in through the curtains of a window. I open the curtains and look outside.

    I appear to be in a stronghold of sorts, a fortress. The window looks out into a large courtyard surrounded on four sides by tall stone walls. What immediately catches my attention are the grounds of the courtyard. It¡¯s filled with flowers and plants of countless colors and shapes, many of them I¡¯ve never seen posted on /an/. Never seen those before, and I¡¯ve seen a lot of crazy plants. What kind of alien world is this? I see organized fencing and signage accompanying the flora, making it clear that they¡¯re being taken care of by the residents of this place. I open the window and feel the fresh air. I¡¯m greeted by a cool spring morning. Is it April here as well? I look up into the sky and see normal looking clouds, but the sun is out of sight. It might be behind me, or it might be too early to have risen above the walls.

    Closing the window and leaving the curtains parted, light streams into the room. The furniture here is sparse, and what pieces are actually here are modest. There¡¯s the bed, an end-table next to it, a dresser across from the bed, and a small mirror atop the dresser. There¡¯s one door leading out of the room, and at the foot of the door are a pair of sandals. I check the dresser, and there are more clothes like the ones I¡¯m wearing. I look into the mirror. The me in the mirror, who is neither dead nor a ghost, looks back at me. What did I get myself into?

    Slipping into the sandals, I leave the room. A hallway greets me, heading left or right and turning a corner at each end. I don¡¯t see anyone, so I just pick left and start walking. Suddenly, one of the doors in the hall opens up, and one of the small knights walks out carrying a crate above its head. The crate is rather large for the creature, about the same size as the one carrying it. It notices me and leisurely walks over, placing the crate on the ground near the wall before facing me. Its helmet is open, and I get a good look at what these things look like up close. The same amber eyes, no nose, and a tiny lipless slit where a mouth would be. It¡¯s wearing the same full body white armor covering everything, ending each limb in an oversized gauntlet or oversized sabaton. The armor itself has nothing striking about it other than its pure white color. It opens its mouth and begins speaking in an energetic and confident tone unlike that of a child, and doesn¡¯t stop talking.

    >You must be the newbie! Master sure summoned a weird one. No armor, no clothes. Atypical of what she usually pulls out of there, which has until now always been another one of us. Sometimes we get wild ones that flail about before being subdued by the binding. The worst was when a new arrival knocked out ten of our number before we could hold him down long enough to solidify his existence. You¡¯ll have to forgive us for our caution when you were summoned. We¡¯d never seen anything like you come out of there before and weren¡¯t sure if you were just going to run wild. You looked confused as any would be though. That¡¯s how it usually plays out, not knowing your purpose for being and all. Master fixed you right up though, right as rain. Glad to have you with us, though I don¡¯t know what you¡¯ll be doing exactly. The others seem to think you¡¯re a real Yusur, but I¡¯m not really sure that¡¯s possible. I mean, Yusurs live in their towns and cities and never come this far up the mountain. They definitely don¡¯t get summoned. Hey, what¡¯s your talent? You sound like you have a singing voice, from when I heard you speak in that weird language last night. You didn¡¯t appear with any instruments or tools, and when we¡¯re summoned, we typically appear with anything we¡¯d need to exercise our skills. That¡¯s why I think you¡¯re a singer. Oh if you¡¯re wondering, my talent is sleight of hand. Master says there¡¯s merit in being able to use ¡°magic¡± without consuming any energy, but it feels like cheating. The Yusurs seem to enjoy my tricks though. Hey, do you want to see one of my tricks?The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The language he speaks feels natural as if I¡¯ve known it my entire life. Despite the speed at which he spoke just now, I easily digested all of it. Surprised by this, it takes me a little bit to realize he¡¯s waiting for a response. Somehow, as if second nature, I manage to respond to him in the same language.

    >Uh, sure. Let¡¯s see a trick.

    He clanks his gauntlets together a few times before the show begins. With a smile on his face, he pulls his left gauntlet off and starts shaking it exaggeratedly as if getting the dirt out of it. I notice that his skin is the same soot color as his face, and his hands are just as oversized as the gauntlets but have no fingernails. Amazingly, a box containing a deck of cards falls out, and he catches it with his exposed hand. After relieving himself of the other gauntlet, he begins skillfully shuffling the deck. He reveals the cards to me and asks me to pick one, explaining that he¡¯ll guess the card. Like a cheeky piece of shit, I choose one of the Jokers, which I assume he left in the deck by accident. With a flourish, he makes the cards disappear entirely as if he performed real magic, and claps his hands together. He then reaches up, and pulls a card out from behind my ear, and flips it around. It¡¯s a Joker. Impressed, I start clapping.

    >Very nice, how did you know?

    The little knight smiles, almost glowing. Actually, literally glowing. He¡¯s giving off light. What the hell?

    >Haha, a magician never reveals his secrets¡­ But you, you¡¯re¡­ a real Yusur? I feel so much energy¡­ How did master pull a real Yusur out of there? You need to talk to her right away! I¡¯ll lead you to her!

    He picks up the box, this time with one hand, and holds it above his head. With his free hand, he motions for me to follow him. And so I do just that. Periodically we meet other knights in the halls, and the talkative one gleefully reveals that I¡¯m a ¡°Yusur¡± before having whoever we meet show me their respective performance ¡°to prove it.¡± Juggling, playing an instrument, dancing. It seems that every knight so far has a skill unique to them, and they¡¯re all rather impressive at performing said skill. Applauding each one makes them glow just like the first time, which causes the knight in question to join our growing retinue as we head to wherever the Master is.

 Post 5

    After traveling for a time we head down to a basement area, and end up in front of large wooden double doors. The word ¡°workshop¡± is on a placard to the side of the doors. Yet, it¡¯s written in some scrawl I¡¯ve never seen in my entire life. I know it says ¡°workshop¡± somehow. The meaning of the characters fills my head by merely looking at them. Just like being able to understand and speak the language of the knights earlier, it seems that I can also read whatever language this is. I can only assume that this is a direct result of the spell cast upon me last night because the language the woman spoke then sounded the same as the language that I¡¯m able to speak now. The talkative one speaks up while I¡¯m mulling about the placard.

    >This is where Master is working! We¡¯ve got other things to work on. Don¡¯t forget to be polite!

    The dozens of knights begin to wander off waving goodbye with their giant gauntlets. I wave goodbye as well, then turn to the door. The only thing I can do is gather more information, so I open the door and walk inside. Tools and machinery riddle the floor and walls of the room. Definitely a workshop. Heading further in, I hear a familiar metal tinkering noise and am overcome with the nostalgia of my first car project. At the far wall, the knights¡¯ master is standing over a workbench, doing this and that to what looks like a metal tube on a stand. I didn¡¯t make an effort to hide my entry, so I¡¯m not surprised when a calm and cool sounding voice speaks to me.

    >You¡¯re finally awake, wonderful.

    I hear the sound of the wrench being placed on the table as she turns to face me. She looks the part of a real mechanic, currently donning overalls, boots and a toolbelt. Her face and hands are covered in oil and grime. Is this the same person as last night? She begins speaking again.

    >So, what do you remember? You¡¯ve been incapacitated for several days, and I¡¯m sure you have questions. I have some for you as well; we can trade.

    >Uh sure. Days, huh? So from what I¡¯ve gathered we¡¯re either in another dimension, or I¡¯ve been placed inside an elaborate simulation, and you¡¯re all not real. Are you real?

    She shrugs before replying.

    >Magic to move oneself through dimensional boundaries is currently in the realm of fiction, or perhaps the gods, modern magic can only pull minor entities from the other planes, but not travel to them directly. Well, at least until I pulled you out of the spiritual plane. You¡¯re not what I usually retrieve from there. And as for us being whatever a ¡°simulation¡± is I can assure you we are very real. If you¡¯re talking about illusion magic, there isn¡¯t a Yusur alive that can accurately fake reality for as long as you¡¯ve been walking around this morning. How did you get stuck in the spiritual plane in the first place?

    >In my world, the idea of magic and spirits is fictional itself. I¡¯ve consumed plenty of said fiction involving the supernatural, but I¡¯m still having trouble coming to terms with what¡¯s happened so far. I was chasing after a thief near my house when a light blinded me, and I ended up naked floating in a white void. I was starting to get hungry when you ¡°pulled me out¡± of there. From what the creatures following me explained, you typically only summon copies of them, and they¡¯ve never seen a ¡°Yusur¡± being summoned before. What is that? A ¡°Yusur¡±? And why can I suddenly understand you, unlike last night?

    She opens her eyes wide during my explanation and adjusts her glasses before continuing.

    >Another world where magic doesn¡¯t exist¡­ Intriguing, but it also sounds dull. ¡°Yusur¡± as defined in the holy scriptures is ¡°Any life blessed by the loving embrace of the Four Great Channels of existence.¡± The church¡¯s full explanation is long-winded, but it¡¯s essentially anyone that can think or reason, and isn¡¯t a spirit or summon. You are technically summoned, but based on how your ¡°colleagues¡± out there were obsessing over you, you seem to have all the traits of a true Yusur. You can understand me precisely because you are a summon. When I bind a creature to this plane of existence, I confer upon it all of my language comprehension so that it can adequately understand and carry out orders. The spell I cast on you bound you to my will, and also gave you the ability to speak and understand every tongue I know. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    The Four Great Channels¡­? Are those this culture¡¯s deities? It¡¯s useful that I can speak the language now, but if ¡°bound to her will¡± is anything like fiction¡­

    >So what does being bound to your will mean? If what you¡¯ve said is correct, I¡¯m no longer on Earth, and the only way for me to return home is to use magic that doesn¡¯t exist or beg your gods for a trip back. I¡¯ve got stuff that I need to do. I don¡¯t mean to reject your hospitality, or to sound rude, but am I essentially your slave?

    >No offense taken. If I found myself in a similar predicament torn from my work, concerned is the least I¡¯d be. I too, have plenty I need to accomplish. If situations identical to this one are so very prevalent in your works of fiction that would explain how well you¡¯re acknowledging what¡¯s happening to you. As far as your will being bound¡­ an experiment. Submit: Shake my hand.

    Before I know it I¡¯ve already walked up to, and am eagerly shaking her hand. I¡¯m conscious during the process, but I feel like my mind went blank during it. Unpleasant. She releases my hand and begins to speak.

    >So either you played along skillfully, or you¡¯re subject to the same commands as my other summons. Sorry about the grease.

    She hands me a towel, which I wipe my hand with.

    >Well my body moved on its own, and it felt like I was watching myself from the third person. So I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s the latter. I don¡¯t suppose I could ask you to not do that?

    >I will refrain from doing so. I¡¯d instead we have an amicable relationship, and the very act of giving bound summons commands consumes power I need to conserve for more important applications. So, we know you¡¯re quite far from home and desire to return. Unfortunately, I do not know a spell capable of dimensional travel, nor do I know of anyone who might know. I live a relatively secluded life here with my minions and do not know much of Yusur society. I¡¯d send you off to simply go investigate a means of return, but several things make me hesitant to do so immediately. For one, you stated your home has no form of magic, correct? How do you defend from enemies?

    >That¡¯s right, no magic. Normal life where I live is pretty peaceful, and there aren¡¯t really enemies to defend from in the first place. I was trying to chase a thief before I ended up here, and was carrying a shotgun. I¡¯m not sure you know what that is.

    >A gun? Yes, we have those too. They¡¯re not very effective, however. It sounds like they¡¯re prevalent in your world, is that correct?

    A gun, ineffective? Even if they were just shitty muskets or flintlocks, guns are anything but ineffective. This place must have some strange gimmick that I don¡¯t get.

    >Yeah, when we fight, guns or explosives are what we use to kill each other. We don¡¯t really fight anyone but ourselves. I¡¯m guessing since you have magic, you also have monsters or something? We don¡¯t have monsters, just animals.

    >The people themselves, killing each other? Perish the thought. Your home sounds anything but peaceful to me. Correct, we have ¡°monsters.¡± Which leads to my next point. I can¡¯t really allow you to leave here if you do not know how to fight. I also believe we can come to a mutually beneficial agreement. Binding you drained an unusually large portion of my power, and I¡¯d like to recover it. I have the means to do just that if you¡¯re willing to cooperate, and as a result, I will be able to assist you in your endeavors to return home.

    She points upward in a matter-of-fact way. There¡¯s plenty I don¡¯t know, and I¡¯m not sure what this person is hiding from me. She doesn¡¯t seem to want to force me to do anything, so it looks like my best bet is to ingratiate myself with my only contact so far. I have no other options right now.

    >Well, you haven¡¯t tried killing me, and I appreciate the help not being stuck in a void forever. I don¡¯t really have any leads on getting home, so I¡¯ll gladly help.

    She extends her hand once again, and I exchange another handshake not minding the grease. Maybe she just forgot already?

    >Wonderful, I¡¯m glad to be working with you. My minions don¡¯t really offer much constructive criticism on my experiments, so I¡¯ll be pleased for your help. My name is Janice Torgrimm. You may call me Jani. What is your name?

    >Good to be working with you. My name is¡­ huh?

    I stop talking suddenly, and a sudden despair creeps up from within. The piece that was lost to me that night makes itself known.

    I do not remember my name.

 Post 6

    >I¡­ don¡¯t remember.

    I drop the towel I¡¯m holding in shock. Not only do I not recall my own name, but I had a dog. I don¡¯t remember her name either. My boss¡¯ name is also missing, as are any of my extended family and all of my acquaintances.

    >I don¡¯t remember my own name or the names of anyone I¡¯ve ever met in my life. What the hell?

    Janice¡¯s eyes narrow and she puts her hand on her chin, cupping her elbow with her other hand. She thinks for a time while my thoughts jumble around, before speaking resolutely.

    >That was probably my doing. I had no choice. In order to complete the binding of a summon, an aspect of the spirit¡¯s ego is sacrificed to help compel them to serve their master. It was an unavoidable risk, as I wasn¡¯t certain if you would have disappeared into the aether if I didn¡¯t immediately bind you. Summoned spirits are only temporary unless bound, and if I chose to leave you be there was no telling if you would have vanished entirely, or been sent back to the spiritual plane. I had to gamble with your memories, and it seems I lost the bet.

    Silence fills the room before I open my mouth again. I laugh in a defeated way before speaking softly to myself.

    >Fuck, man. Can I never catch a fucking break with this shit?

    Janice waits for me to continue.

    >Well, this sucks. Based on your silence you don¡¯t know a way to return my memories either. This¡¯ll just have to be another thing I ask your gods for I guess. I¡¯ll just have to deal.

    I exhale as if exhausted before picking up the towel I dropped. Janice speaks up.

    >You¡¯re taking this rather well, for someone ripped from his home and family, with not even their names to remember them by. I was certain you would either be stricken with grief or angered beyond belief at myself for stealing your memories.

    >Let¡¯s just say that I¡¯ve dealt with a long history of bad circumstances, and this is just another notch on the rifle. So, let¡¯s get started then. You say we can work out an agreement, but what would you have me be doing?

    >First I need to assess what you¡¯re capable of. We¡¯ll head to the training grounds where I can get a read on your abilities, and we¡¯ll go from there.

    Janice has me place the towel on a nearby worktable, and we head out into the halls together. Periodically one of her minions will appear carrying something or doing cleaning work in the building. Sometimes noise is heard in rooms we pass by, presumably caused by more of the creatures.

    >What are these guys anyway? They¡¯re all the same looking, but are they the only thing you can summon? Do they have names?

    >They are called White Knights and are the most common being I successfully summon from the spiritual plane. Each individual knight doesn¡¯t have a name, but each possesses a unique skill brought with them when they are summoned with which I use to differentiate them.

    >So you can summon other things? Is summoning rare or will I be seeing guys like these everywhere?

    >Summoning magic is more or less a lost art, and I would be surprised to see other practitioners out in the world, but as I do not leave here often it¡¯s possible that there are other summoners out there. I can summon things like mounts, or I can temporarily summon powerful beings specifically tailored for combat. My experiments have only gone so far because my power is limited.

    >You¡¯ve said before that you don¡¯t leave home. Is there a reason?

    We continue walking, and Janice waits a bit before replying.

    >I¡¯ve said that you¡¯re more than likely a Yusur, but I¡¯m not actually a Yusur myself. If your world lacks magic, it¡¯s likely you¡¯ve never seen horns like these on another person before. Let¡¯s just say that my kind aren¡¯t welcome in most places.

    Janice motions to her crimson red horns as we continue down the halls. I begin speaking again.

    >I don¡¯t know if your language considers this a negative term, but in my home, we call horned people ¡°demons.¡± They only exist in fiction, but there are just as many stories of good demons as bad ones. You haven¡¯t tried dragging me into hell yet, so I¡¯d consider you the former at the moment.

    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The word ¡°demon¡± comes out of my mouth in English, because my mind doesn¡¯t conjure up an equivalent in the new tongue I¡¯m using. So I guess I can only automatically speak words that have similar meanings in this worlds language? Janice pronounces it slowly before giving her opinion.

    >¡±Demon,¡± huh. It sounds foreboding, like a being of disaster and suffering.

    She sighs dejectedly. I get the feeling that my own definition of what an evil demon is matches this world¡¯s perception of Janice and her people.

    >Sorry, it was just an observation. For the record, demons don¡¯t usually save peoples lives and offer to help them return safely home. You seem to be doing just that, so far.

    Janice nods her head then collects herself, before beginning her lengthy explanation of what it means to fight. She seems to enjoy talking about magic. A White Knight waves energetically to us as we pass by, and I wave back while listening.

    >I don¡¯t know how your culture sees magic, but since it truly exists here, there isn¡¯t much in the means of ¡°fictional portrayals¡± of magical systems that don¡¯t exist. Tention Magic is the art of using energy gathered from attention, and performing before the gods themselves to conjure miracles. The weaker your performance, the lower the output. The Four Great Channels are constantly observing the Yusurs and grant them a boon when their art and talent entertain the always vigilant, always disgustingly bored gods. ¡°Tention¡± can be gathered from any living being that can fulfill the act of observing. Animals give a minimal amount of tention as they cannot properly appreciate most performances, and Yusurs that can comprehend the meaning behind a dance or a song grant the most tention. Some scholars have found that even plants can give tention via touch, though minuscule.

    I get the feeling if I could shitpost like back home, I¡¯d be the most powerful mage in the universe. Janice hands me a simple looking bronze dagger with a small blood red gem embedded in the grip before speaking again.

    >This stone is made of Yuminium and is the primary conduit with which tention users cast their spells. The purity of a piece of Yuminium determines how much tention it can hold, and any excess energy dissipates and is wasted. This dagger is rather weak but works as a tool to figure out your strength. Have you ever seen a gem like this before?

    I study the embedded gem. It looks kind of like cinnabar. Thanks, geologybro, I miss your angry rants about how bismuth is fake heretical shit. I¡¯d like to say it¡¯s otherworldly, but it¡¯s literally otherworldly. After a second, I realize that I have actually seen this material before.

    >Are your horns in any way related to this mineral?

    >Ah, very observant. My horns are indeed pure Yuminium. One of the many reasons I do not approach Yusur settlements is because of this. I could be targeted by brigands who would easily attempt to kill me for my horns to sell off.

    >If your horns are that powerful, I¡¯d assume the difference between them and this dagger is enormous.

    >Yes, I build up all the tention I need once a year all at the same time, which is stored in my horns to sustain my livelihood and the knights until I need to perform again.

    >If you don¡¯t go to Yusur towns, how do you gather tention?

    It seems like I¡¯m really good at hitting touchy subjects because Janice pauses for a bit before replying.

    >I¡¯m technically a ¡°rogue performer,¡± one who does public performances illegally. Every year around the same time I sneak out at night with the White Knights and execute a massive fireworks show near the city of Boarding. This unsolicited spectacle gathers enough tention to last me about a year before I do it all over again. I have to do it at a different time and place every year as to not be caught, and I abscond as soon as the final rocket fires. I was working on a fireworks launcher when you came to see me. I¡¯ll explain more later, we¡¯ve arrived.

    We come to what appears to be the fort¡¯s barracks, equipped with a section devoted to training. There are archery targets and training dummies, all of them quite worn by repeated use. Against the walls are armor and weapon racks which hold damaged and rusted equipment. There are a few White Knights doing practice swings, and there¡¯s one juggling colored balls in the corner. They notice our entry and stop what they¡¯re doing to approach. The juggler speaks excitedly to us in a surprisingly gruff tone.

    >Master, you¡¯ve brought the Yusur! Is he going to show us his skill?

    >Yes that¡¯s right, he¡¯s here to learn tention.

    Janice turns to me.

    >Ah, yes, you were summoned without any tools. That¡¯s contrary to what usually happens when I summon a White Knight. Do you have any talents? Can you sing or dance?

    I think for a bit, but nothing comes to mind. I can¡¯t fix a car that isn¡¯t here, I don¡¯t have a gun, and my dog isn¡¯t present to do a trick. None of these seem like skills that would be worth ¡°performing¡± anyway.

    >Not really, I could dance a little, but I¡¯m not practiced. I don¡¯t know about my singing voice.

    >This is quite the predicament. Even though the White Knights nor I can provide you with tention, if you perform for the gods they can grant you enough power to cast a weak spell. What to do¡­

    My true talent lies in the degenerate act of shitposting on the internet. Obviously, that will do me no service here. God, I¡¯m going to miss it. Nothing beats riling up idiots on 4chan. As I bemoan my current circumstance, I fail to notice that time slows down to a crawl before eventually stopping. Soon I realize that nobody in the room is moving except for me. What? In my mind¡¯s eye, I see it. A computer monitor bleeds into existence in front of me. A keyboard manifests itself underneath the monitor. My right-hand rests naturally where a mouse would be and is greeted by the familiar plastic texture. The monitor turns on, and on the screen is an old version of internet explorer on a website called 4chan.net.

 Post 7

    Am I going fucking insane? If I can beg for a computer and get it, can I beg to go home instead? I navigate around the browser on the screen. There¡¯s only one board. /b/ ¨C Anime/Random. This is¡­ this is literally launch 4chan. God, it looks so fucking ancient. What the hell is this? Did I also travel back in time? I head to the infantile /b/ and check the threads. These post numbers are literally in the thousands, it¡¯s as if the website was created today. Strangely, the board proper looks like modern 4chan, though the style of the posts match the era it¡¯s from. A fake? Suddenly, an echo sounds through my head. A piece of ancient history. Someone sends me a message on AIM.

    >WHAT.

    I speak out loud accidentally, though nobody can hear me. Before I can collect my thoughts, the messages continue, and I type to reply to them.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    The moment after I read that message, extreme pain wracks my body as electricity runs through the keyboard into my fingers. Try as I might, I can¡¯t pull my hands off the keyboard, and I struggle to stay conscious. During the pain, information fills my mind. Profoundly useless information. Information that no sane man would want in almost any circumstance. I learn every single meme, every single shitposting trick, every last bit of (You) collecting tech developed over the past 15 years beyond what I already mastered. Then, the pain hits me again. Knowledge of futuristic and even more esoteric memetry fills my brain whether I want it or not. Shitposting techniques from the future. The pain stops, and I hear the AIM message sound again.

    Before the feeling in my arms comes back so I could type a reply, Master T goes offline on AIM. I get the feeling that time won¡¯t resume until I use my new powers, so I go back on /b/, and click to start a new thread.

 Post 8

    I¡¯ve been posting on 4chan for a long time, but the most I¡¯ve ever practiced ¡°posting like you¡¯re from 2003¡± is from the periodic nostalgia threads on various boards. I¡¯ve evolved with shitposting throughout history, so I struggle to remember how posting was like so long ago. Luckily, it looks like I¡¯m still able to browse the other ¡°current¡± threads. This helps because I can emulate how the other ¡°users¡± are posting, to an extent. There¡¯s always the chance I could type something stupid or unusual for 2003 4chan.

    Like I noticed before, the actual board looks and functions like 2018 4chan. It even has 4chanx installed in the browser, which shouldn¡¯t be possible. I¡¯ve tried navigating off of 4chan itself, but the page looks like what happens when you hit F11 and hide the address bar. It doesn¡¯t slide down when I mouse over the top either. It was worth a shot. I hazard a guess that Master T made this fake 4chan act like modern 4chan to make it easier for me to actively post. He was very clear in his hatred for me, so I have my doubts as well. It¡¯s also possible it was an accident. This shit is pretty much magic after all.

    I still can¡¯t move my legs. Only my upper body seems to be capable of movement. If I can activate this ¡°cheat power¡± at will, this is likely to prevent me from literally teleporting. I¡¯m not sure to what extent T can interfere with me either, I¡¯ll have to do some experimentation later. For now, I decide to make a relatively neutral post. I remember that Yotsuba&! Came out in the same year as 4chan, and the central character was chosen as the mascot of 4chan, so I choose that as my topic. However, I realize something immediately.

    You need an image to start a thread, and I have no idea what¡¯s on this ¡°computer.¡± I click to upload an image anyway, and I¡¯m greeted by a Windows XP window. The folder I¡¯m in begins to rapidly fill up with Yotsuba&! images as if it can read my intent. That¡¯s useful I guess. The window is in thumbnail view, so I scroll down and just pick an image that seems right. I craft the body and hit submit.

    A safe and unsuspecting experimental post. Not even a real shitpost, but sufficient enough to test my new power. This is the stupidest fucking thing I¡¯ve ever experienced in my life. As the thread loads, I notice something strange. My ability to reply disappears, and the thread starts automatically reloading itself at a rapid pace. Replies to the thread appear instantly as if time has sped up a hundredfold. The monitor, keyboard, and mouse start to fade away. The real world¡¯s time begins to resume, and I realize I¡¯m holding the dagger again, the embedded red gem glowing. Janice continues to talk as if nothing strange happened.

    >Well, I suppose you could attempt to recite a ballad from your home, however amateur it may be. It¡¯s possible the gods will be pleased with music from another world¡­ are you alright? You look as if a specter has graced you with a visit.

    >Did any of you notice what just happened?

    The White Knights look confused for a moment, but then shake their heads. Janice shrugs before responding.

    >I¡¯m not quite sure what you¡¯re talking about, did something occur while I was in thought?

    I hesitate on how to explain the magical computer and the contact with T. I don¡¯t know if such devices exist here, or if she will believe me at all.

    >Well, you see¡­

    For now, I settle for explaining that I was contacted by a seemingly hostile being who also granted me a strange power that allows me to generate tention without a performance. I then hold up the dagger to show that energy has indeed filled the Yuminium core.

    >How peculiar¡­ I¡¯d say that you¡¯re spouting nonsense, but your circumstances are already extremely unorthodox. Do you understand how to properly utilize your newfound power?

    >Vaguely. I¡¯m not sure how often I can do it and how effective it is compared to a real performance. As far as I can tell it can be done instantly. I¡¯ll have to do some testing.

    >As for this ¡°Master T,¡± I doubt that I need to explain that fully trusting someone you can¡¯t even see who forced upon you a dubious ability with no warning is not something I would recommend in the slightest.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    >Yeah. He did say he¡¯d speak to me again, so I¡¯ll have to be cautious. I don¡¯t really know what his goals are. He outright stated that he wishes I were dead but is helping me anyway. I¡¯ll trust him as far as I can throw him¡­ which is nowhere.

    >Keep on your toes. As for the test, it seems you have enough power to cast a spell or two. The energy coming from the dagger is weak but serviceable. Let me demonstrate for you. Since I need to conserve energy, I¡¯ll be using a simple cantrip. The casting of spells is simple to grasp, but exceptionally difficult to master. A spell is anything you can possibly imagine given form. However, the effectiveness of the spell and whether or not it is successfully cast is entirely dependent on several things. First is the amount of energy you channel from whatever you¡¯re utilizing as a focus for your spell. More elaborate sorcery requires a higher output or the spell will fizzle. Second is any associated somatic, verbal, or material components necessary for the spell. The act of spellcasting is a performance itself, which astounds those affected and is watched by the gods themselves. The more gracious your movements, or commanding your voice is can profoundly influence the outcome of a spell. The third and final detail is one difficult to skillfully use. The origin of the energy you use to cast affects the nature of the final product. For example, gathered energy from an energetic dance is typically suitable for physical attributed spells, while a speech¡¯s power might better be used for illusion magic. Furthermore, tention is divided into two categories: White and Black magic. The emotional energy of the attention you receive is either white for positive emotions or black for negative emotions. A child staring in wonder at a puppet show, or a bandit giving terrifying speeches before cutting down his victims. Black is associated with offensive or dangerous magic, while White is associated with positive or support magic. While using the associated emotional energy with a related spell type isn¡¯t necessary to successfully cast, the greatest of masters command total control over the various kinds of power they absorb and assign it to the proper magic to further augment their strength¡­ Do you comprehend so far?

    I listen as best I can to her elaborate explanation. This appears to be her element because whenever magic has come up in discussion she gets really energetic.

    >Yeah. Use related energy for related spells, and be stylish when casting. Don¡¯t skimp on how much power you put into a spell, either.

    >Wonderful. Now, observe.

    Janice heads over to the archery targets and readies herself. A few seconds pass before she spreads her arms wide and looks up as if she were about to willingly fall forward. Bringing both her arms slowly together above her head, she takes a step back and pulls her arm behind her as if she¡¯s winding up for a throw. Her voice rings out with purpose.

    >A blooming flower acts as a shameless thief that pilfers the night of darkness itself: Peony!

    With her pointer finger, she turns her body and thrusts her arm forward at the target, and from her hand surges forward a small fiery orb. It collides with the target and explodes like a real firework, sound and all, and sprays sparks everywhere, singing the wooden target. As if they knew this was going to happen from the start, the three knights rush over with filled buckets of water and douse the flames before they fully destroy the target. Conservative aren¡¯t they? So this is real magic.

    >Note that I could have cut the chant short, or forgone the movements entirely, but the outcome would have been weakened considerably. You¡¯ll also notice that I chose a spell stylized after a firework because the energy that I¡¯ve amassed was from the fireworks display I put on last year. This choice has a genuine effect on the result. I don¡¯t expect you to do anything elaborate, but give it a try. Spellcasting is like painting a picture or composing a song. The time, effort and energy create the story.

    I step up to the archery range and begin to consider what kind of spell I should cast. I really just make up whatever the hell I want, huh? So if the type of energy I received was from /b/, does that mean I should just make the spell random as well and hope for something cool? I don¡¯t know how much tention this dagger holds yet, but Janice said I have enough for ¡°one or two spells,¡± so I opt for something weak. Assuming that spellcrafting can more or less understand the caster¡¯s intent, I decide to append a phrase to the end of my spell that I hope will make the random effect purely of the attacking sort. I don¡¯t want a truly random spell that could just melt my eyeballs or something. I get a feeling of stage fright, but shrug it off best I can. Imagining energy collecting in my fingertips, I make a gun with my hand before speaking confidently.

    >Arbitrary Code Execution: Attack Vector

    I exaggeratedly fire my finger pistol, shooting a small white sphere from my hand. The target instantaneously freezes in ice, before it explodes from a sudden electric shock, shattering the ice. The ice lands and melts rapidly. Janice walks over while clapping. She looks out at the target, which is still giving off sparks.

    >Wonderful, you¡¯re quite the natural. An unusual effect as well, you¡¯ll have to explain how you composed the¡­ Are you alright?

    I¡¯m crouched down, covering my face with my hands. If this is how everyone in this world fights I don¡¯t know how long I¡¯ll last. That was the most embarrassing thing I¡¯ve ever done in my entire life.

 Post 9

    >Is all spellcasting like this? Is this normal?

    >Why, yes. If enough effort isn¡¯t applied to a spell, it won¡¯t form at all. The absence of necessary components will cause no more than a tickle to your opponents.

    >I¡­ see.

    >I apologize, but I¡¯m not quite sure what¡¯s the matter. You stated that your home lacks the arcane entirely. I know that I would be jumping for joy if such a world ope-

    >That¡¯s¡­ not what¡¯s wrong.

    I interrupt her before she starts gushing about magic. The magic itself is amazing, and I¡¯m genuinely astounded that it was so easy to exert such a power with no practice. However, a deep resentment has built up within. This is the exact kind of shit I would do at recess in middle school, or get in trouble for doing in the middle of class. I¡¯m stuck in a world where my juvenile and incredibly embarrassing antics would have been a source of absolute power. Have I been forced into a situation where I have to reconcile with my edgy teenage years? The memories I¡¯ve buried deep inside my mind? Thou art I, I art thou I guess. I imagine myself shaking hands with a younger version of myself in my head. For now, I¡¯ll have to unleash the sleeping beast to return home. Only then will I be able to lock the past in a safe and drop it into the ocean. I stand up straight and continue speaking.

    >It¡¯s fine, just some old and painful memories. The way people here cast spells is like something a kid would do in a playground. Something you grow out of and forget eventually. It¡¯ll take a while for me to get used to this.

    I try to force a smile. Janice waits a bit before responding.

    >I suppose that if you live in a world with no magic, performing a spell with no result would make passersby question your sanity. Your people sound too eager to discard their spirit, however. I find it difficult to be envious of such a world. Regardless, this is how it is done here. In order to survive, you must be as a child in a playground. Now that I¡¯ve seen that you have grasped magic, I¡¯ll explain what our plans are. I burned a considerable amount of tention in binding you to this realm, enough that I will run dry before I am prepared for another fireworks display. I constantly spend minute amounts of tention to maintain each of my summons, and if I exhaust my stores both the White Knights and you will fade from existence. I presume that you agree that we should avoid such an outcome.

    >Not dying would be nice, yeah.

    >I already made clear that my kind are not received kindly in yusur society. So we¡¯re heading to the nearby city of Boarding to register you as a Bard.

    >A Bard? I can¡¯t play any instruments or sing though. Is a Bard something different in this world?

    >A Bard might indeed play the strings or recite ballads, but that¡¯s not all they are limited to. The cities maintain what are known as Bardic Guilds, which serve as the primary gatherings where licensed performers take on requests that require a magical touch. Any person that can spellcast and pass the entrance examination can become a Bard. The other route we could take is to have you become a government-sanctioned Troubadour, but that would tighten our sphere of influence unnecessarily. In addition, you and I would undergo an undesirable background investigation. I¡¯m sure you understand how that would play out.

    >Yeah, I¡¯m not exactly from around here. So you say your kind are not well received but are still allowed inside cities? What¡¯s preventing you from becoming a Bard regardless, instead of having me do it?

    Janice thinks for a moment before responding.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    >Indeed. My people call ourselves Drators, and we are disliked by yusur society. It is unheard of for a drator to be acknowledged as a citizen, let alone a Bard. They would not allow one into their ranks, for they believe it would stain their honor. Once you become officially recognized, I will be able to act freely as your support. Bards are well-respected, so I¡¯ll have to ask for your forgiveness in me using you as a shield.

    >It¡¯s fine, so will it just be us two?

    >No, we will bring with us a few White Knights. I always take them with me when I venture from the bastion for supplies. Spellcasters are best when combined with a strong front-line that can keep the enemy preoccupied while chanting. We can also have them act as your own summons, which will expedite the examination process.

    >Which ones are we taking with us? How do you even tell the difference?

    Janice snaps her fingers before reciting a spell.

    >Ping Command: Three, Fourteen

    She then closes her eyes as if deep in thought for several seconds before speaking again.

    >I¡¯ve called them to us, they¡¯re on their way. The third will be Fifteen, who¡¯s already here.

    >Is that some sort of telepathy?

    >More or less. I have a special bond with my summons that allows me to speak to them in such a way.

    Shortly, two White Knights arrive in the training room. One of the knights who was already with us moves to stand beside them. They start to introduce themselves to me.

    >I¡¯m Three, we¡¯ve already met! My specialty is magic tricks, but my love is for cards in particular! I¡¯m so happy we¡¯ll be traveling together, we¡¯re gonna have so much fun! Ican¡¯twaittoshowoffmymagicforarealaudienceitgetskindofboringonlybeingabletopracticewiththeotherknightsandthere¡¯snothinglikeperformingforrealYusursIhopewecanbethebestoffriendseventhoughmasteriskindenoughtowatchshedoesn¡¯trea-

    He¡¯s interrupted loudly by the knight next to him.

    >I¡¯m Fourteen. I do fencing. That¡¯s all.

    >I¡¯m Fifteen, you might have seen me juggling earlier. I¡¯m pretty good at juggling just about anything as long as I can get a handle for the object¡¯s weight. I¡¯ve even juggled the other knights once.

    I take a look at the weaponry the three are carrying. My time on /k/ gives me an edge in identifying their kit. Three has a morning-star and what appears to be a buckler, but amounts to a heater shield size-wise in the hands of the diminutive knight. Fourteen has a rapier and what looks like a main-gauche. Fifteen has a stiletto, and about a dozen throwing knives adorning his waist. He probably juggles them too. Janice begins to speak.

    >These three are my best front-line summons. They will be the ones joining us on our journey.

    >Will the fortress be alright without them?

    Three replies before Janice can.

    >Don¡¯t worry, the Bastion of the Banned has more than just us! There are the 29 other super strong knights still on guard! Everything will be okay!

    The Bastion of the Banned? That¡¯s quite the name.

    >Ahem. Yes, we will be quite alright. I will have the knights put together traveling supplies. Luckily for us, the knights do not have to eat, but I believe you do¡­ Hold on.

    Janice looks like she just realized something.

    >You were robbed of your name, and you will need one in order to successfully register as a Bard. You are the 33rd summon I¡¯ve successfully bound to this world, but I highly doubt that you desire to be ¡°Thirty-Three.¡± Do you have any thoughts on how you wish to be addressed?

    Shit, I guess that¡¯s really important. I ponder for a moment but settle on something pretty quickly.

    >Just call me Anon.

    >Anon? As in, ¡°soon?¡±

    >No, it¡¯s short for Anonymous. Isn¡¯t it fitting for a man with no name? It¡¯s a little hard to describe, but it¡¯s also what my friends and I called each other. We considered ¡°Anon¡± a term of endearment for the most part.

    I sigh. If /a/ knew that one of their own got trucked for real, would they be jealous, or would they be laughing their asses off? I¡¯m sure plenty of them would have been happy to trade places with me, but I¡¯m not sure if a lighthearted romcom with a harem of cliches awaits me in Boarding. I need to get home. It feels like it¡¯s only been a day, but I already miss you reprobates.

    >If it¡¯s a meaningful name to you, then I support you taking it upon yourself. I would imagine bearing a name significant to you and your friends will give you strength. I¡¯m glad to make your acquaintance, Anon.

    Once again, I shake her hand.

    >Thanks.

 Post 10

    It was about ten in the morning after being shown magic for the first time. At least, I guessed as much based on the timestamp of the post I made. We decided that we would set out in a couple days to a nearby trading outpost as an in-between on the way to Boarding. Janice said she has a merchant contact we need to meet, on top of procuring more supplies for the rest of the trip. She left the training hall to set the fortress¡¯ affairs in order and to have the knights prepare the equipment we need. I requested a knight to stay to help me investigate the fake 4chan power, and Fourteen volunteered to stay behind. If this magic can feel intent, it¡¯s likely I just have to desire to post on 4chan for it to appear.

    >Could you stand next to me? There¡¯s something I need to test.

    Fourteen moves over and stands within arm¡¯s reach without saying a word. Quite the talker. Well, let¡¯s give it a shot. I imagine the computer setup appearing before me, and it does just that. Time freezes and the ghostly desktop bleeds into existence once again. Convenient. I take this opportunity to do a few things. First of all, I reach out and attempt to touch Fourteen, but my hand phases right through his body. Not surprised. Then, I try to take off my shirt, but my fingers just pass right through the cloth. So I can¡¯t interact with anything other than the computer, and I can¡¯t move from the spot that I summon it¡­ It seems that T really covered all the bases with which I could exploit this time freeze, he¡¯s quite prepared. After doing these tests, I check the meta 4chan.

    In the directory is a new board, /h/ ¨C Hentai. That was quick. I assume that the sudden fast-forward wasn¡¯t just for show, and the fake 4chan went forward in history after I made my post. Purely because of my natural curiosity, I check the new arrival. ¡­Some of these artists don¡¯t even draw anymore, what a shame. Adolescent nostalgia fills me. I¡¯m not quite sure what use shitposting on this board will bring, and I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to use the energy type for anything useful anyway. But this will be useful for other reasons. I smile to myself, then head back to /b/.

    It appears to be October 2nd on the meta 4chan. The post timestamps match what seems like the hourly time where I am, however. Being able to tell time whenever is pretty cool, I guess. I decide to make another post, this time inside an already existing thread. Opting to go for a simple derail, I search the explorer for an old 8-ball image. The person replying applies the final number in their post to a particular result in the image, which is the answer to whatever nonsense question they ask it. Classic thread derailment. My unfortunate victim is a Full Metal Panic: Fumoffu thread. It looks like the season was mostly over when 4chan was made, so they¡¯re in hot discussion. I submit my reply, the thread speeds up, the computer fades, and time resumes. I speak to Fourteen.

    >I tried touching you when I used my power. Did you feel anything?

    >No.

    >Alright. Thanks.

    I head over to the targeting range, while Fourteen follows behind. The dagger is full of tention. I decide to test the variability of the random attack spell. Only Fourteen is here, so my stage fright is lessened. With the dagger in my left hand, I make another finger pistol with my right and cast the spell.

    >Arbitrary Code Execution: Attack Vector

    Then I fire the pistol once again exaggeratedly. More of my dignity fades away. A bucket manifests above the target and dumps its contents onto the target before disappearing in a cloud of smoke¡­ I hear sizzling. Acid, huh. The wooden target falls apart.

    >Sorry about the target.

    Fourteen shrugs. I examine the dagger. Intuitively, I comprehend that I have slightly over half of the dagger¡¯s tention left. It¡¯s just fucking magic, I guess. This time, I make up a new spell designed for support. The effect remains random. I doubt the usefulness of a support spell that you can¡¯t control, but I imagine a purely positive Deck of Many Things.

    >I¡¯m going to cast a support spell on you.

    >Okay.

    Fourteen seems unconcerned despite witnessing my attack bucket just now. Admirable. I make a prayer motion with my empty hand and close my eyes. As confident as I can, I recite the new spell.

    >Arbitrary Code Execution: Firewall

    I place my open hand on Fourteen¡¯s shoulder as I say the final word, and the spell activates on him. A thin fiery haze surrounds his body, but he doesn¡¯t react as if in pain. A literal firewall? That seems more precise than it is ¡°random.¡±

    >Does it hurt? Do you feel any heat?

    >No.

    I reach over and touch his flaming helmet, but it feels cool. I put my hand in front of him.

    >Touch me.

    His gauntlet contacts my skin, but nothing happens. I uh, really don¡¯t know what the hell this is. Maybe it¡¯s another situation where intent matters. Perhaps if something hostile touched him, it would burn them? I take this opportunity to attempt to dispel what I¡¯ve cast. I imagine the spell ending¡­ and nothing happens. I still have a minuscule amount of tention left in the dagger, so I make something up that might work.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    >Command Prompt: ¡°Slash¡± Release

    I snap my fingers, and the haze around Fourteen dissipates instantaneously. God this is so embarrassing to do unironically. I bet these gods are losing it watching me fumble around with this shit. So I can¡¯t just will a spell effect away, it has to be another spell.

    >Were you able to tell what that effect that the fire had on you?

    >No.

    Great. Intuition kicks in again, and I¡¯m able to discern that the tention left in the dagger isn¡¯t enough to cast anything of note. I¡¯ll probably take for granted how easy it is to gauge my remaining tention. Not finished testing the ability, I grab a nearby crate and place it in the middle of the room. Fourteen silently watches. I climb up onto the crate, and hop off of it, attempting to activate the power in midair.

    Time slows, and I decelerate rapidly while feeling none of the recoil you would typically feel when having your momentum abruptly stopped. I¡¯m floating in midair but feel no great discomfort other than my legs being frozen in place. I pull up /b/ once again. I head into a Kino no Tabi thread and type up a long diatribe about how awful the show is. Lying to myself in pursuit of the perfect shitpost no longer causes me pain. I submit the reply, and the thread reloads. This time something else happens, however.

    >WHAT.

    I¡¯m instantly messaged by T.

    T goes offline. So, three strikes and I¡¯m out, huh. That IP¡­ it was a loopback address. So there¡¯s no actual connection to anything? Is it really all in my head? I¡¯m not sure what kind of information I can even get out of T. Time resumes, and I land on the ground next to the crate. Fourteen watches me silently. It must have looked like I just got on a crate only to jump off of it. This must seem really dumb. After confirming that my dagger is fully charged, I speak to Fourteen.

    >So why did you wanna help me figure out my power?

    >¡­

    >You¡¯ve been really helpful, but you don¡¯t seem very happy about something.

    Fourteen doesn¡¯t respond immediately, but I decide to wait for him to do so.

    >¡­I don¡¯t trust you. Master is always thinking miles ahead of us and has never driven us down the wrong path, but I fear her eagerness in sheltering and providing companionship for an anomaly like you. She sees something we cannot but is showcasing a lack of prudence that is unlike her. Be mindful of your situation and the degree of hospitality she is offering you. Understand?

    I was wondering if any of them would be suspicious. As far as Janice explained they¡¯ve never seen anything like me before. I nod my head.

    >I don¡¯t plan on any betrayal. I¡¯ll be on my best behavior. Besides, Janice can still use a spell to compel me if I were to do anything stupid. We tested that earlier.

    >¡­Right.

    Fourteen seems unconvinced. It¡¯ll probably take some time for him to trust me. There¡¯s one final test I decide to make. Being able to use that telepathy spell would be useful. I mimic Janice¡¯s magic by snapping my fingers and reciting the same words with the same intent.

    >Ping Command: Janice

    I do my best Metal Gear codec call impersonation, and Janice¡¯s voice fills my head.

    >Anon? Is that you?

    >Yeah, I gave it a shot, and it turns out I can use the same telepathy. Does this work between the knights as well?

    >Correct, the White Knights are capable of the same magic. The physical distance and duration of the connection affect the consumed tention however, so be mindful. I applaud your initiative, I hadn¡¯t considered testing this spell.

    >Yeah, I figured it¡¯d be useful if I could do it too. I¡¯m gonna have Fourteen show me around. Talk to you later.

    >Right. If you need anything, don¡¯t hesitate to contact me.

    The transmission terminates, and I speak to Fourteen again.

    >Could you show me the layout of the fort?

    >¡­Sure.

    <hr>

    I spend the rest of the day touring the bastion. Now I know where mostly everything is located. Most of the rooms are barracks or offices repurposed for various magical experiments that Janice does or for general storage. The kitchen is still maintained so cooking can be done. I get a good look outside the walls as well. We¡¯re surrounded by a sea of trees at the top of a mountain. The path to the gates is overgrown, and likely sees little use other than when the knights head out to hunt for Janice or gather supplies. For lunch, a knight brings me some jerky. For dinner, another knight brings me to the kitchen and cooks for me with the flourish of someone out of a cooking manga or a /ck/ related television show. A different knight leads me back to the same room I woke up in, where a change of clothes and a made bed awaits me. ¡­This is already getting tiresome. I decide to solve my self-made problem tomorrow and go to sleep.

    The next day I wake up, put on a new set of clothes, eat some fruit I snagged from the kitchen, and check 4chan. I¡¯m no longer banned and new boards have appeared, as time has seemingly sped up to October 6th, 2003. /c/ ¨C Anime/Cute, /d/ ¨C Hentai/Alternative, /w/ ¨C Wallpapers/Anime, /y/ ¨C Yaoi, and /i/ ¨C Oekaki are now present. I smile to myself. Most of these are ¡°useless.¡± However, /i/ catches my attention. It¡¯s an old BBS which was only meant for art, but I can use this for my plan for sure. I head to an unused office and begin to act.

    I realized very quickly that Janice and the knights have some sort of invisible bond that lets them differentiate between themselves easily. I, however, can only tell the difference depending on the weapons they¡¯re carrying. Also, if we head into Boarding and start doing bardic work for real, it would be better if other people could tell the difference as well. I start calling in the knights one by one. The knights continued to eagerly show their skills while I was wandering around yesterday, so I¡¯ve seen all of their performances.

    I begin assigning each of them a name based on their talents or their weapons. Usually, they have a preference when I give them an option, and all of them save for Fourteen are ecstatic to be given this much attention from a yusur. After I decide on their names, I use a very weak spell and paint a small, simple symbol on each of their helmets using magic. It takes me three separate posts on /i/ to gather enough tention to use for these painting spells, but it¡¯s just enough to finish the job and is empowered by the artistic energy from the board. The day before our journey begins passes by rapidly as I name all 32 White Knights and bestow upon them each a unique symbol.

 Post 11

    It was time to begin the journey to Boarding. Janice had spent the past two days finishing up experiments and preparing supplies. A backpack was given to me containing a personal tent, rations, and various other camping supplies. I was also wearing proper shoes, and clothes sturdy enough for travel. The style was old-fashioned, but I didn¡¯t mind. The Knights gathered several changes of clothes from the fort¡¯s previous residents, and I chose a few sets from among them. Janice is also dressed in similar clothing, typically worn by men; though she doesn¡¯t seem to mind this. Must be what she wears when leaving the fortress anyway. She speaks to me as we walk toward the main gate.

    >The Knights are incredibly pleased with the names you thought to give them. It makes me ashamed that I¡¯ve neglected to do so myself.

    >Sorry for not asking first. I got tired of trying to memorize their numbers.

    >It¡¯s quite alright. If anything this will make ingratiating ourselves with the people of Boarding an easier task, as a simple number is impersonal. Though it will take me time to unlearn calling them by their summon order and to begin addressing them by their newly assigned monikers. The symbols you¡¯ve applied to their helmets will further add to their identities.

    Beside us are the three knights joining us. I feel ashamed that I couldn¡¯t come up with anything more interesting than simple handles for them, but typically they were delighted. I doubt any obscure references to Earth¡¯s culture or history would be appreciated here. They are Joker (Three), Duelist (Fourteen), and Juggler (Fifteen). Joker¡¯s helmet has a spade, Duelist¡¯s helmet has two crossed swords, and Juggler¡¯s helmet has three solid circles forming the points of a triangle. Thanks to /i/ the new insignia looks perfect as if they were meant to be there all along. The knights aren¡¯t carrying any equipment besides their weapons because they don¡¯t need sustenance or sleep. They¡¯re purely maintained by the tention that Janice feeds them.

    >Unfortunately, we will be proceeding on foot to the trading post. In an optimal situation, I would summon temporary mounts, but I lack the tention to do so safely. Enough transportation for this distance would drain me severely.

    >That¡¯s fine, I¡¯ve been camping. Though I¡¯ve never traveled this far on foot before.

    I wasn¡¯t really a devoted /fit/izen, but I kept in good enough shape. Wasn¡¯t expecting to ever actually have to go innawoods though. I give a silent thanks to /out/ and /k/ before speaking again.

    >So what kind of monsters live in the forest?

    >The most we ever encounter nearby are wolves, boar, or the occasional goblin. It is unusual to traverse these woods completely unmolested, however. We should proceed with all due caution.

    >Alright.

    Before we leave, I decide to make a quick shitpost in a Green Green thread on /b/, fully charging the dagger. Some knights on the walls raise the gate, and we pass under it, starting our trek down the mountain. The knights above wave at us below as we leave. I wave back. Time passes as we hike, and to make it go faster I ask Janice to teach me about the local fauna. When I first woke up, I saw the garden kept in the fortress, and eventually had Duelist lead me to it. The knight tending to the courtyard, now named Gardener, explained as much as he could about the plants but was only versed in their cultivation and arrangement. I assumed Janice could explain their practical use, so I made it our travel topic. She reveals that the garden is a keepsake from her older brother, but she also maintains it for the plants she includes in her experiments. She speaks of the garden in a lonely, reminiscent tone, but doesn¡¯t elaborate further. There must be circumstances with her family. I can relate, though I¡¯ve forgotten the names of mine.

    Many of the plants had similar uses to common herbs found on Earth but differed in shape and color. I assume that it¡¯s probable that the scent differs as well. She makes a point of showing me some samples of edible mushrooms and grass as we pass by them. We run out of herbs to identify and eventually the topic turns towards me and Earth. She¡¯s already aware that I¡¯m from a wildly different place, so I¡¯m not too concerned about revealing generic information. However, a dark part of me boils up, my old friend distrust. I briefly consider the possibility that she could use a spell to compel me to disclose information I keep secret or any weaknesses I have. I feel ashamed and push back against the thoughts. It¡¯s alright. I settle for talking about entertainment I enjoy, with a focus on media with different types of magical systems, figuring that she would appreciate hearing about how a world without magic views the arcane. She listens with great interest as I speak, injecting her own thoughts as I describe different concepts of mana, spell formulation, and elemental types found in fiction.

    We take several rests throughout the day, but not as many as I expected. I ask, and Janice explains that she makes this same hike every year for her fireworks display. The large detachment of knights escorting the fireworks is too many to summon mounts for, and instead of calling forth beasts of burden, the knights simply pull carts carrying the payload. I recall seeing the aforementioned carts in one of the buildings attached to the courtyard. Eventually, we make camp for the night. Thanks to my knowledge from camping threads on /out/, and some help from Janice, I get my own tent set up with no issue. We gather some kindling and set up a campfire. Opting to help conserve Janice¡¯s tention, I snap, and a tiny flame sprouts out of the end of my pointer finger, like a human gas lighter. I guess you can cast without a verbal component if it¡¯s simple enough and your intention is clear? Eventually, we go to sleep, the tireless knights keeping watch all night.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    When we wake up, I check the dagger¡¯s tention. No decay, huh. I¡¯m surprised because I expected the quality of the focus to determine something like expiration. Janice¡¯s horns are apparently pure, so I was pretty sure my weak dagger would lose charge throughout yesterday and last night. Yuminium must be pretty resilient regardless of its purity I guess. Useful. We pack up and begin the hike again. Janice states that we¡¯re about five or six hours from the trading post.

    >So in the setting you¡¯re describing, these wizards suffer from a hard limitation on the number of spells they may invoke in a given day, but merely sleeping allows them to do it all over again?

    >Yeah, but they also have to decide which spells they want to be available to cast after waking up, and can¡¯t change again without going back to sleep.

    >That sounds rather troublesome. You would need exceptional foresight to predict which spells you would need every day.

    >The wizards always found a way. In the same books, there are sorcerers, who can freely cast any spell they know, but they have access to a much smaller variety.

    Janice sighs as we enter a clearing in the woods.

    >My life would be so much easier if I could just dream myself to maximum tention every night.

    >Unfortunately the very same spellcasters can¡¯t just cast any spell they can imagine, and can o-

    >We have company! In the front!

    Duelist brandishes his weapons as he calls out. Joker and Juggler immediately adopt a battle ready stance, and I start looking around in a panic. Janice scans the clearing as well. Five¡­ no, six figures exit the cover of the forest, two of them dashing out. Before I know it a wolf lunges at Duelist and another at Joker. Duelist blocks with his off-handed dagger, and the wolf bites down on it. Joker receives the other wolf with his shield. I hear a whistling, followed by a *thunk* nearby. I jump back, startled. An arrow is embedded in the dirt.

    >HOLY SHIT.

    The source is a warty, small, green creature at the edge of the trees holding a makeshift bow. Is that a Goblin!? He¡¯s accompanied by two other similar figures and what looks like an animated wolf¡¯s skeleton. IS THAT A SKELETON?! One of the shapes carrying what looks like a plank shield moves towards Juggler. Juggler throws a knife at the approaching figure, but it¡¯s blocked. It¡¯s another goblin, and it laughs behind its shield as it comes closer. The final goblin reveals itself and raises two wooden clubs to the air, one of which has a crude red stone as a head¡­ and begins drumming the ribcage of the skeleton wolf like a xylophone. Janice calls out.

    >A skald?!? Here?!?

    She immediately starts the motions of the spell she showed me in the training hall, chanting while she winds up her cast. At the same time, the goblin¡¯s short song finishes, and he yells out. I somehow understand him perfectly.

    >Embiggify, making huge. Mean, giant and nasty too!

    >A blooming flower acts as a shameless thief that pilfers the night of darkness itself: Peony!

    The small fireball shoots out and makes contact with the skeleton, exploding it and sending its bones flying out, piercing the goblin musician. He falls over. Another arrow flies by me. I break free from my daze and take aim at the archer. Clumsily, I aim my finger gun and shout out my spell as quickly as I can.

    >Arbitrary Code Execution: Attack Vector!

    The root of a tree near the marksman comes to life, and swipes at the goblin, tripping him. THAT¡¯S ALL?! Meanwhile, it looked like Duelist has already defeated his adversary and moved to back up Joker. Astonishingly, the wolf Joker is keeping at bay with his shield is now twice as large as it was before. The shield goblin has already discarded his shield, now riddled with knives, and is grappling with Juggler. Janice calls out to me.

    >Behind us!

    I turn around, and two additional goblins are charging at us. The one on the left quickly throws something, and I feel a burning pain enter my right leg. A knife. I go down on one knee. Janice goes through the same fluid motions but shortens her incantation and fires at the goblins.

    >Peony!

    One of them bursts into flames as the firework spell strikes him. The other rapidly approaches me with a dagger raised. FUCK. I panic and make up some bullshit before screaming it at him.

    >POWER WORD: KILL

    I feel every last ounce of tention in my weapon empty in an instant. The goblin freezes in its tracks as if a video was paused¡­ then continues striding towards me. FUCK! Just as it swings down, a throwing knife slices through the air by my ear and impales the attacker in the skull. Stunned, relief washes over me, but only for a moment. A solid *thunk* sounds out. Something has entered my back, and a searing sensation spreads throughout my body. I collapse on the ground.

    >ANON!

    Someone shouts, then I black out.

 Post 12

    Once again, I wake up in someone else¡¯s bed. Haha, still not dead. This ceiling is a pleasing pastel green. I lie awake for a time recounting the events of the ambush to myself. I¡¯ll ask Janice about it later. Smirking, I move to leave the bed. Checking myself for damage, I find that the wound on my leg is gone and I feel no pain. I look around, the room is sparsely furnished, just like the room I used at the fort. There¡¯s a standing mirror in the corner, which I use to check my back where I was struck. It¡¯s as if I was never hurt; not even a scar remains. More magic. There¡¯s no one else here.

    >Ping Command: Janice

    ¡­Huh? Oh. After nothing happens, I realize that I can¡¯t sense my tention levels anymore. I don¡¯t see the dagger anywhere in the room. It¡¯s possible that I lost my connection to it when I fell unconscious. I check my backpack that¡¯s in here with me, but the dagger is missing among its contents. Putting on the shoes conveniently left for me, and bringing the backpack, I leave the room. I appear to be on the second floor of what I presume to be an inn or a guest house. I guess we made it to the trading post? Heading downstairs, a homely woman behind a desk notices me and calls out.

    >Ah! You¡¯re awake. We prepared a room for you after you arrived in that sorry state. Poison, it was apparently. You¡¯ve been out for a day recovering. Must be hungry, have some bread. On the house.

    She grabs a biscuit from a basket on a table behind her and holds it out to me. I thank her and take it. I just keep losing days being unconscious. It¡¯s not stale nor particularly flavorful, but it satisfies nonetheless.

    >So I take it we¡¯re at the trading post?

    >Aye, this is the guest house at Echo Bay¡¯s trading post between Boarding and Signature.

    So they managed to carry me the rest of the way and kept me alive as well.

    >Thanks for your hospitality. Do you know where my companions are?

    A look of disgust flashes on her face, but quickly subsides before she speaks up.

    >Ah, yes. The little ones were given permission to perform, and are likely out and about¡­ The drator woman is truly with you? She brought you to us last night and begged me to take her coin; just for you, that is. Apparently she¡¯s off meeting with the master, provided the receptionist doesn¡¯t shoo her away. Can¡¯t imagine what for. It¡¯s the building out and to the left near the center of the post. Has a big sign with our logo. Can¡¯t miss it.

    When she spoke of Janice, it was with a mixture of derision and pity. Janice wasn¡¯t kidding, huh.

    >Thanks, I¡¯m gonna see if I can find them.

    >Do be careful, now! You already escaped death once!

    Leaving the guest house, I¡¯m greeted with the first sign of civilization I¡¯ve seen in about half a week. It¡¯s not as bustling as a city center back home, but the people are plenty enough. Several stalls are set up in a plaza adjacent to the gravel road cutting through the trading post proper. Various sorts are walking about either conducting business or continuing down the main street in either direction. There are horse-drawn carts with goods and carriages with people in transit. Very rarely, to my disbelief, I see what appear to be old-fashioned vehicles. Small flatbed trucks carrying secured cargo effortlessly glide down the street. As if they literally exited a silent film, the old looking trucks move without noise save for the sound created by displacing the road itself. They¡¯re not combustion engines¡­? When I do happen to see a truck, it usually has what look like guards in hot seats on the sides, or sitting with the goods on the back of the vehicle.

    Looking across the plaza, I spot a couple of familiar figures. Juggler and Joker are performing for a group of children. I head over to meet them. Juggler is expertly flipping about his knives, and Joker is showing off simple magic tricks. Joker is completely focused on his art and doesn¡¯t react. Juggler notices me as I approach, but continues his routine unperturbed. He speaks up when I reach the small crowd, juggling all the while.

    >Good, you¡¯re awake. It¡¯s been about a day. We¡¯ve been about gathering tention for the master, while she¡¯s been bartering and making all kinds of deals or whatnot. She burned quite a bit of energy healing you. You should go see her, she¡¯s in the building behind us.

    Juggler motions with his head, and I look to see a sign with yellow, blue, green and red letters spelling out ¡°Echo Bay¡± above what could only be the headquarters mentioned by the innkeep.

    >Got it, I¡¯ll go see what¡¯s up. Have fun.

    Juggler nods his head before skillfully grabbing and throwing an additional dagger from his waist into his cycle. I hear children laughing in delight, and turn to see that Joker has manifested a bouquet of flowers out of thin air. Smiling, I head to the building and open the well-used door. Inside, a receptionist greets me. She speaks in an even and polite tone, showcasing her expertise.

    >Welcome to Echo Bay, how may we assist you today?

    >Hello. My companion Janice is apparently here?

    >Ah, yes. Through the door on my left. The young woman insisted that you join them if you managed to arrive before their talks finished.

    >Thanks.

    I knock on the aforementioned door. An unknown man¡¯s voice greets me.

    >Yes, yes. Come in!

    Entering, I see Janice and a middle-aged man sitting across one another at a large ornate desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Duelist is leaned up against the wall next to the door. The office exudes a sense of wealth. On the walls are many shelves holding various antiquities, books, and artifacts of makes each wildly different from its neighbor. A painting of a woman with a calm expression carrying a child hangs behind the man¡¯s seat. I¡¯m briefly overwhelmed by the storied collection in front of me and feel slight remorse at having to step on the exotic carpet underneath. The man stands up and speaks with life and energy.

    >Aha! You must be the fledgling bard. Do come in, we just finished our business here. Shall we fill you in on the details? But where are my manners?

    He approaches me, and we shake hands. A firm, practiced handshake befitting who I presume to be the company president. Dressed in a business suit straight out of the 1800s, he¡¯s got a full head of brown hair, a curly mustache just like a Pringles can, and a pair of spectacles.

    >Parviz Morad, proprietor of the illustrious Echo Bay. A collector of both mundane and arcane, prosaic, and exotic, humdrum and etcetera. Young Jani tells me that you¡¯ll be taking the bardic examination in Boarding, exquisite! Glad to be working with you. Anon, is it? Come, please sit down. Let¡¯s talk.

    He returns to his seat while motioning towards the chair next to Janice, which I sit down in. He continues to speak.

    >Jani informs me that she found you collapsed in the forest near her home. It¡¯s a pity about the amnesia bit, but I¡¯m sure a rousing career as a bard will reawaken your lost memories; One could only hope. Young Jani tells me you offered to assist after she saved you from the wilds. Good man! I wish I could have provided a similar act of kindness to her, as Jani¡¯s family and Echo Bay have close ties. Alas, my duties as a businessman interfere excessively. However, Echo Bay would be proud to act as your sponsor once you inevitably trounce the exams. We have nothing but faith in you!

    Immediately after he stops speaking, Janice¡¯s voice fills my head for a split second. Parviz doesn¡¯t react to this.

    >Sorry, play along.

    Ah. Trying to act the part, I respond earnestly to Parviz.

    >Yeah, I figured that if I do some traveling, I might have a decent shot at remembering who I am. A familiar sight or person might remind me of my past. Janice explained that if I help her by becoming a bard, it¡¯d make it easier to move about.

    >Rightly so! A bard is a natural go-getter. You could even say they typically go somewhere and get something! We¡¯ll be glad to support you in your endeavors as a go-getter, especially since Echo Bay specializes in having their bards execute the act of getting something by going somewhere!

    Right.

    >I¡¯ll do my best to earn your trust.

    Janice finally speaks up.

    >We will finish our business here at the post, then tomorrow morning we set off for the city itself. Parviz has generously offered to shepherd us the rest of the way in his company car. He has also provided us with a letter of recommendation that you may present to the guild, in the event that they question your origin, as you ¡°have no recollection of your past.¡±

    >I¡¯m glad to offer the service of my car, meager as it may be. Though, you¡¯ll not find another piece of technology as advanced as my personal vehicle this side of Cyberia! That I can assure you!

    Hold the fuck up. Did he just say ¡°Siberia?¡± Have they shipped me off to the gulags?

    >Sorry, is that our planet¡¯s name?¡­ My memory is a bit foggy. Can you spell that for me?

    >Ah? Why certainly, C-Y-B-E-R-I-A. Goodness, your amnesia is quite thorough. To forget your very home¡¯s name must be a distressing experience, to say the least!

    >Yeah, you could say that. I¡¯ll be sure to not forget it again.

    Janice stands up from her seat before speaking in turn.

    >We must be going, as Anon and I have some business to finalize while we¡¯re still here.

    I stand up as well, and Parviz responds.

    >Right, right. Do get some rest. Though traveling by car will expedite your journey, it¡¯s still quite the distance to Boarding. Covering such a length as your very first trip in an automobile would be a daunting experience to anyone. We will meet in the morning. A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Anon.

    Parviz puts his hand on his chin and smiles, nodding knowingly to himself. I guess traveling by car is something of a rarity here. I don¡¯t know whether to be insulted or not. Janice and I excuse ourselves, and Duelist silently follows us out of the building. Janice begins to talk as Duelist, and I follow behind her.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    >My apologies for that circumstance. I realized while I was speaking with him earlier that it would be unwise to disclose your full origin needlessly, and came up with a vague cover story. My ping message appears to have given you enough information to play the part. I doubt I need to explain that no yusur alive would give credence to such an outlandish backstory as yours.

    >Well, nobody on my planet would believe any of this either. I don¡¯t blame you.

    >Right. Let us do some shopping.

    We arrive at the edge of where the stalls are. Janice stops abruptly, turns around, and hands me a jingling pouch. Reaching inside, I pull out several different denominations of coins.

    >These are ¡°Yuze.¡± Parviz would explain that they¡¯re the common currency, backed by yuminium. Feel free to count them, as being familiar will undoubtedly be influential in our success.

    The coins each sport a minimalist design, and are a dull silver. In the center is a slightly curled character with a number to the right of the letter. This character has the same pronunciation as the ¡°Y¡± in ¡°Yuze.¡± In my possession, I have 14 coins with ¡°Y1,¡± 6 coins with ¡°Y5,¡± 9 coins with ¡°Y10,¡± 2 coins with ¡°Y50¡±, and 1 coin with ¡°Y100.¡± 334, huh. Janice waits for me to finish counting, and hands me the yuminium dagger I was using during the ambush. I can sense its tention again after touching it; empty. Janice speaks again.

    >I suggest we should acquire for you a better yuminium focus, as this dagger was truly an offhand purchase I made years ago to test some ideas I had. It was never meant for anything more than that, as it¡¯s a particularly weak weapon even a housewife might deign from utilizing.

    Janice stares off into the distance for a moment. People are giving us looks as they walk by us.

    >I¡­ will remain here. Duelist will accompany me.

    >Do these merchants not treat you the same way as Parviz?

    >Parviz and my family share a long and storied connection. A man of his influence might merely ignore the stigma associated with dealing with a drator, but a lesser man might risk his business were he to deal with one openly. I attempted to barter on my own but was soundly rebuked. Eventually, I settled on having the ever stoic Duelist act as my liaison¡­ It did not go as planned. Now that you¡¯re here we can simply have you move about as our representative. Think of it as practice for dealing with the populace of this world. Go on.

    >¡­Right. I¡¯ll try not to get ripped off.

    I set out to investigate prices. The value of a single yuze is clearly much, much higher than a single United States cent. Making an effort to gather as much information as I can, I figure out a few things. Visiting food stalls, I find that a loaf of bread is 4 yuze, while a week¡¯s worth of dried meat rations is 7 yuze. I see what is advertised as a yuminium lamp lasting three weeks before needing a recharge. It¡¯s priced at 82 yuze. A bundle of rope is 14 yuze. Always carry some rope, you might need it for anything. I head towards a weapon and armor peddler, and he speaks up as I approach.

    >Welcome sir! Precharged for your convenience! Feel free to synchronize to gauge the tention levels. An informed purchase is one made without regret!

    Opting for something lightweight to defend myself with, I choose a small leather buckler; 42 yuze. Purchase made. Something catches my eye, a gauntlet with a yuminium core embedded in the back of the hand. The gauntlet is leather, the back of the hand and fingers are protected by metal.

    >May I try on this gauntlet?

    >Go right ahead, sir!

    Equipping the gauntlet, and securing the strap, I move my right hand about and wiggle my fingers. It¡¯s like it was made for me. I feel my link to the dagger disappear, and a new connection in my mind forms with the gauntlet. Is this ¡°syncing?¡± Looks like you can only use one focus at a time. The gauntlet is fully charged, and compared to the dagger which had two or three casts, the gauntlet feels as if I could throw out ten ¡°Attack Vectors¡± before it diminishes completely. I like it.

    >How much is this gauntlet?

    >190 yuze! I can vouch for its quality, as I¡¯ve never had a complaint about equipment from that particular smithy. Well worth the price. On my honor as a merchant!

    This is one of the most expensive things I¡¯ve seen so far. Decent yuminium must go for a good price if it¡¯s valuable enough to be the backing for currency. Eventually, I settle on getting the gauntlet, as I have no real training with actual melee weapons. Shitposting is my power after all. I backtrack and make several purchases at the stalls, before counting the spoils. 74 yuze remains. I feel as if my purchases were careful enough, and that I wasn¡¯t taken for a ride. Rations, some rope, a new weapon, a shield, and some other minor things. Not too shabby. I return to where I left Janice and Duelist.

    Standing there is Duelist, and someone wearing a beige cloak and hood. The cloak is embroidered with black thread, creating a crisscross pattern along the edges of the cloth leading up the mantle and around the hood. Something about the person is off like they¡¯re blurred or indistinct. I cautiously approach and speak out, confused at where Janice went while leaving Duelist behind.

    >Hello?

    The person turns towards me, and I see their face. It¡¯s Janice.

    >You¡¯ve returned, wonderful. Ah, yes, this. Your visage speaks that you¡¯re confused about this raiment.

    Janice spins around to show me the cloak fully. On its back is a design: four black squares forming the corners of a single larger square, connected by lines in-between.

    >This is the one thing I was actually able to acquire. It¡¯s an enchanted cloak typically worn by practitioners of the Invisible Status faith.

    >Invisible Status?

    >Yes. I¡¯ve only but read of them myself, but they¡¯re an odd religious sect that believes only the gods themselves are truly worthy of their fervent worship. In order to shield their very being from all but the omniscient deities of the Four Channels, they don these cloaks. They have the effect of masking tention completely, and subtly warping the air to make the wearer more discreet. Parviz provided it to me. It is quite the rarity, and yet he was willing to give it to me. ¡°Unfortunately, you may be looked at as a loon.¡± He said. It is most welcome, as it will allow me to move about without suspicion.

    A loon huh. I guess it¡¯s better than being harassed. Maybe when I become a Bard, it won¡¯t be necessary?

    >Were there strings attached?

    >Do you mean on the cloak? On the neck, there are strings to tighten the hood.

    Janice shows off tightening the strings.

    >No. I mean, what did Parviz ask for in return? He said this thing was incredibly valuable, right? Did you pay for it?

    >I did not. He insisted that it was a gift.

    Suspicious. Are the ties between Parviz and Janice¡¯s family really that strong? I¡¯ll have to be careful about accepting favors from him.

    >Alright, well I¡¯m all finished shopping. I¡¯ve also picked us up some rations in case we need them.

    I show her the gauntlet and buckler.

    >I don¡¯t have any weapon expertise, so I opted for something lightweight suitable for my unusual power.

    >Wonderful. Keep the dagger as an emergency backup, as I no longer need it. Let us return to the guesthouse. As unkind as it may sound, we must commit to a debriefing of the ambush. A lot went wrong in that clearing.

    >Yeah, I have plenty of questions and theories too.

    We head back to the guesthouse.

    <hr>

    That night, we entered Janice¡¯s room to discuss the encounter in the forest. Duelist decides to remain outside the room to keep watch in case we discuss something sensitive. Janice sits down in a chair. I sit on the edge of her bed. We begin going over the events of the fight the moment we¡¯re settled. I speak first.

    >So let me go over what I think I realized first, then you can correct me. My first spell was useless because I rushed the ¡°performance.¡± That last spell I tried to cast definitely needed a lot more tention than I had at the time. I could feel the dagger empty itself immediately, and it only managed to stop him for a split second.

    >Correct. The effort and energy that you put into your two casts did not tip the scales enough to outweigh or even meet your desired outcome. Unfortunately, you have a distinct lack of combat experience owing itself to your generally peaceful life.

    >Yeah, that¡¯s something that I¡¯ll just have to work on.

    I shrug defeatedly to myself.

    >So, those were ¡°goblins,¡± right. What was with that one with the bone wolf. What did you call it?

    >A skald. Unlike a yusur, monsters or fauna that can utilize tention are typically hostile. Black magic is usually the only thing they¡¯re capable of. The populace refers to them as ¡°skalds¡± to differentiate them from a true bard. The one we encountered was attempting to cast support magic and managed to enhance one of the wolves attacking our frontline.

    >Yeah, so what happened at the end? I was hit in the back.

    >Ah, yes. That archer you only managed to trip at the beginning of the encounter recollected itself and shot you with a poisoned arrow. It knocked you out instantly.

    Damn, he sure had his revenge. I almost kicked it back there.

    >The innkeep said I was out for the night. I woke up without any wounds. I assume you did that?

    >Quite. It burned an excessive amount of tention, but I was able to heal your wounds and cleanse the poison. Unfortunately, it left you unconscious and unable to move. The knights carried you the remainder of the way, and we deposited you to rest.

    >That¡¯s¡­ not good. How much tention do you think you have left.

    Janice pauses.

    >¡­Less than a month, perhaps even only a couple of weeks¡­ provided that I do not cast a single spell.

    Damn.

    >I¡¯m sorry I¡¯ve put you in this situation. First, you save me from disappearing, then you save me a second time from dying.

    Janice thinks to herself, her face filled with frustration. She speaks again but looks away from me.

    >It is quite fine¡­ I could not simply leave you to die after already saving you once. It¡¯s not as if I revived you out of pure altruism, for if you had been killed in that forest, I would have been left without a means to recover any energy at all.

    >But still, thank you for saving me.

    Janice doesn¡¯t respond. Silence fills the room as I think to myself for a possible solution. I¡¯ve yet to take off the gauntlet. Flexing my fingers, I decide to take a closer look at the embedded gem. Yuminium really is pretty¡­ Wait. That might work. Kinda lewd though. I break the silence.

    >¡­What if I charge your horns directly?

    Janice doesn¡¯t react, as if she didn¡¯t hear me. After a little bit, she responds.

    >Pardon? Charge my horns?

    >Yeah, when I bought the gauntlet I learned how syncing to a yumnium focus actually works. What if I sync to your horns, then use my power to give you tention?

    >I¡­

    Janice hesitates but continues.

    >That would be extremely convenient if it works as you intend, but¡­

    She looks visibly uncomfortable at this suggestion.

    >I¡¯ll¡­ have to unsynchronize with my own horns. I¡¯ve never done that before. Unlike a regular yusur, when I sleep my connection to my focus remains intact¡­ I don¡¯t know what will happen. Only one person can be synced to a focus at a time.

    Hmm. It¡¯s possible this might be dangerous. Our time frame is really short though.

    >If you think it¡¯s risky, we don¡¯t have to try it. It¡¯s just a thought I had. It¡¯s possible we won¡¯t need to do it and can finish the bardic exam in time to gather tention for you naturally with the knights.

    >No, I believe it will work. I won¡¯t die or anything outrageous, probably, but it might be discomforting.

    Janice stands up, and takes off the cloak and places it on the chair. She walks to the center of the room. I get up, set the gauntlet on the bed, head over to her, then ask:

    >Are you ready? Let¡¯s give it a shot.

    >I¡¯ve resolved myself. As this might remedy our dilemma, it¡¯s worth the attempt.

    She closes her eyes for a while, then groans.

    >Ugh¡­

    She puts her hand on her head, then stumbles a bit before falling forward. I manage to catch her.

    >Oof, sorry. We should have just had you lie down first.

    >I¡­ can¡¯t¡­

    Janice seems to lose her ability to stand completely. As to not let her fall on the floor, I pick her up and lie her down on the bed. She¡¯s light.

    >I¡¯m going to do this as quickly as possible.

    Janice doesn¡¯t respond. Without hesitating, I grasp one of her horns. I feel myself synchronize, and¡­ Oh my god. It¡¯s¡­ so vast. I¡¯m briefly stunned by the extreme capacity that her horns have. It feels endless. Trying not to get overwhelmed, I activate my power. The desktop appears. Letting go of her horn, I realize that I still maintain the connection without constantly touching it. I make three separate shitposts, garnering as much tention as I can, and am immediately banned from 4chan. After exiting my power, I try and fail to grasp how much time we have left. I probably can¡¯t get a sense of how much that actually did because of how huge her power stores can get. It must come naturally to a drator. I cut my connection to her horns.

    >Janice, if you can hear me, sync back to your horns. I¡¯m done.

    >Ughhh¡­ B-Brother...

    Janice groans again but soon begins to regain some of her color. Deciding to leave her to rest, I take my gauntlet and my other belongings and leave the room. Duelist speaks to me as I exit.

    >¡­Done talking?

    >Yeah, but Janice is exhausted from today. She went to bed. Keep an eye on her, okay?

    >¡­Right.

    I head back to my own room and retire for the night.

 A Blooming Flower Acts as a Shameless Thief

    It was two years ago, it seems. In one of the bastion¡¯s rooms dedicated to my experiments, it occurred. Three had recently insisted yet again¡­ no, Joker had insisted on the celebration of my birthday. I turned twenty-three that year and would have easily just forgotten had it not been for his persistence. The knights are anything but blank slates, and though their memories are largely wiped clean upon calling them to this realm, they always manifest the strong aspects of the personalities they had in their previous lives. Joker retained all of his outgoing demeanor and love for others. Perhaps I should make an effort to show gratitude to Joker for reminding me of my age; for it also serves to remind me of how long it has been since my family left that fateful day. His childish innocence, and eagerness to make one smile; another motivator for my research. I would surely see their smiles once again.

    The short birthday gathering had just ended, and the knights had dispersed to resume their assigned duties. Who is now known as Duelist was assisting me with this experiment. When I met with Parviz for our annual trade at the start of the season, I had been given the usual supplies but also requested a specific item. The item itself had no outstanding or unique quality, as it was a simple yuminium bronze dagger crafted as practice by some apprentice from some workshop or some smithy somewhere. Parviz stated that he was glad to be rid of something of so little value, as it was just clogging space.

    I handed the dagger to Duelist and began formulating the spell which was the centerpiece of my experiment. There was no documentation of a summoned being successfully utilizing a focus, and I had intended to change that. Halfway through my long incantation, Duelist began glowing with an otherworldly light. Noticing this, I ceased chanting as this outcome was not intended. He, however, remained alight. Unlike the afterglow a knight gives off when they successfully finish a performance and are applauded by a yusur, this was a strange form of incandescence. He opened his eyes, now glowing a bright and unrelenting white, and began to speak; though it was not Duelist who¡¯s words escaped his mouth.

    >In several years time, the catalyst for change which you seek will make itself visible to you. An unfortunate soul cast into that very same plane you reach into to call forth beings like this one. I HavEn¡¯T QuiTE FiGuRed OuT WhO THe heLL i¡¯M bRinGing OvER sO JuST SIt TIgHT FoR A yeAr oR TwO. oKaY???

    ¡°He¡± then coughed exaggeratedly before mumbling to himself.

    >Uh, when the fuck should I¡­ That works.

    Again, he spoke in that foreboding tone as earlier, loud and confident.

    >Once every thirty days starting this next morn, spread your net. Fish wide and deep in the aether; seek an anomalous spirit unlike any other. Grasp it and pull it forward; do not hesitate to draw it into this world. ThEY¡¯ll PrOBaBLy bE A WorThLEsS sACK oF ShIt BuT jUst TrUSt mE, GoT iT?

    Duelist ceased glowing and stood there looking at me as if nothing had changed. Not quite sure what to make of this event, I first inquired to him if he realized what just happened. Duelist shook his head. As a precaution, I cast a spell for detecting cursed objects on the dagger, but it yielded a negative response. The voice wanted me to search the spiritual plane every month for ¡°an anomalous spirit unlike any other.¡± I deliberated long and hard but eventually settled on simply doing as asked. Merely scanning the plane itself was no difficult task, and consumed a meager amount of tention. If anything, I could just not bind what I found. The day after, I began a new monthly ritual.

    <hr>

    I could scarcely believe what I was sensing that night. Around two years had passed since that day, and I could finally see a result. Something was in the spiritual plane, something I had never encountered before in my life. I¡¯ve summoned all manner of things, but as the voice stated, this was truly an anomaly. Quickly, I went to work beginning the summoning process and sent all available knights to the reception room to await the spirit¡¯s arrival. The spirit could have been anything, and it could have been hostile. Using as much tention as needed, I called our new visitor to this world, and after the knights telepathically informed me that whatever it was wasn¡¯t thrashing about, I entered the room.

    Initially, I wasn¡¯t sure if what I was witnessing was some elaborate ruse. As I called for the knights to make way, a naked yusur man entered my sight. Taken aback, I demanded an explanation, and he began speaking in an alien tongue. My eyes went wide in shock. This is the catalyst promised to me? I thought. A yusur? As my mind began to race, I realized the predicament I found myself in. Time was running short. I had to decide whether or not to bind this man to my will in order to solidify his form or allow him to dissipate into nothingness. Not once in known history had a real yusur been called for a summoning. Their souls always took the form of a White Knight. Believing this man to be the key to my salvation, I made the choice to bind him; consequences be damned.

    <hr>

    The man awoke several days later and managed to immediately befriend my White Knights. Undoubtedly they were ecstatic to perform for a real yusur face to face, as they had never had the chance before. He found his way to my workshop, escorted by the enthused knights. I could hear the clamor outside the door, and he made no effort to conceal himself as he approached.

    Thus, we began exchanging information. I did not quite know what, exactly, he was, but I knew one thing¡­ No matter what, I had to convince this man to assist me. Parviz and I maintained a business-like relationship, and it¡¯s been over two decades since I¡¯ve spoken to anyone but him or the knights. I needed this yusur. The past couple of days while he slept, I spent almost every waking moment in deep rumination. The eerie voice spoke of this man as my ¡°catalyst for change,¡± and he was a real yusur. My available avenues of research were running thin, but I could not easily leave the bastion to expand my horizons. With this man as my representative¡­ my shield, I could venture forth and finally carve a path to my goal.

    He spoke of his situation with a large degree of confusion. As that voice stated, it needed about two years to find a suitable candidate. It¡¯s likely this man was merely a victim of fate, torn from his life by that voice. I couldn¡¯t reveal this information, for it would most surely shatter any semblance of trust this man might have for me. I managed to persuade him to assist me, on the provision that I help him return home. He mistakenly believes me to be his rescuer, his salvation¡­ when I¡¯ve been cast into the role of accomplice, kidnapper¡­ perpetrator.

    <hr>

    The binding was successful but had adverse effects. For one, he had forgotten his own name, and the names of every single person he had ever known; The difference between a White Knight binding and this unusual situation made apparent. Secondly, the amount of tention I expended in the process was massive. I did not have much time left. The fastest method of regaining my energy source available was to have my new retainer become a Bard so that I could have the knights legally perform.

    We traveled to the training room in the bastion, where I would give an introductory course on spellcasting. I handed the man the yuminium dagger from that day, to act as his first focus. Perhaps the voice would appear once again? I thought¡­ Yet, it did not. When questioned about his talents, the man woefully explained his lack thereof. This might prove more difficult an undertaking than I anticipated. I had thought. While I was thinking of a remedy, the man suddenly spoke. He had been contacted by an unknown being and was bestowed upon an unusual power. He held up the dagger, which I immediately noticed was fully charged. Instantaneously, with no audience or performance?! It took everything I had to resist exclaiming at this preposterous, world-changing ability. I understood that this was more than likely the machination of that voice. Caution was due if that same voice were to become an enemy.

    I explained magic to the man and had him attempt to cast. Luckily, though he lacked artistic talent, he was a natural spell-slinger. Unfortunately, he reacted with extreme embarrassment at the act of spellcasting itself. I needed him to learn how to withstand that nonsensical shame, and fast. I explained our main goal from that point forward; having him become a bard. Introducing our main lineup, and going over our course of action, I realized that since his name was taken in the binding process, he needed a new one. He chose the name ¡°Anon,¡± as it was a nickname of incredible importance to both him and his beloved companions back home; though he could not remember any of their names. I felt more self-disgust.

    <hr>

    On the day of our journey to Boarding, we exited via the main fortress gate. Anon had taken it upon himself to name each and every one of my knights and apply a symbol upon their helmets. Perhaps it was a method of coping with the loss of his own name? I had thought. I might never know, but the knights having actual handles would definitely be a boon to us in greater society.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    We began our trek down the mountain, and Anon managed to keep the conversation going as we walked. Somehow, the topic turned to plants, and then to the bastion¡¯s vast gardens. I explained that the garden was the pride of my brother, but spoke no further despite the memories welling up. I could not accidentally reveal my primary goal then and there. It was not time; our priority at that moment was the trading post.

    I asked Anon about his home, and he began to speak at length about magic in his world¡¯s works of fiction. Without rest, he earnestly talked about the arcane. Perhaps he sensed my melancholy? I wondered at the time. We conversed for hours, and I found myself enjoying the chat thoroughly. The knights could only offer so much in the form of companionship, and I felt as if I wanted that hike to never end. Though, unfortunately, things don¡¯t always execute in the fashion that we please. We were ambushed in the forest the next day.

    The knights managed as best they could, but Anon was a man who lived a peaceful life. He stood there in a daze, and even though he eventually regained his senses, he fumbled all of his spells catastrophically, and was shot by a poisoned arrow. Cursing my luck, I burned an absurd amount of tention tending to his wounds after the battle. I managed to stabilize him, we had to transport his unconscious body the remainder of the way to Echo Bay.

    <hr>

    >Jani¡­ Jani¡­ I understand your desire, but¡­ they¡¯re gone. You have to accept that.

    Parviz twirled his curly mustache about, a sad countenance betraying the jubilance he was known for. He picked up a portrait on his desk and stared at it for a time before placing it back down.

    >Parviz, you¡¯ve known me all my life. ¡°Not one to falter, even under the weight of the world.¡± That¡¯s what you said yourself¡­ about me.

    >I know, lass¡­ but it¡¯s been twenty years. I swore to your father and mother on the day that they left that I would keep you out of trouble if anything were to happen, and just look at you! Getting into trouble.

    Parviz chuckled softly to himself before continuing.

    >I was under the impression you were content researching up in the bastion, but now you¡¯re talking about heading to Boarding? Though the Accord protects drator by law, who knows what could happen in an alley or even on the streets themselves. They¡¯ll stone you to death, Accord be damned! Your knights can only do so much against a mob. Why now?

    In that office, I had to convince Parviz to offer me his support. I found difficulty in displaying mendacity in front of the man I affectionately called ¡°uncle¡± as a child. Fighting back against my shame; To who amounted to the only family I had left, I spoke untruths for the first time.

    >I¡­ found a yusur who was willing to offer his assistance to me.

    Parviz perked up upon hearing these words.

    >Pardon?

    >¡­In the forest near the bastion, my knights found him while they were hunting. He was unconscious. When they contacted me telepathically, I ordered them to give solace by bearing him to the fortress, where I healed his wounds. Unfortunately, he lacks the memory of his past; amnesia. He insisted that he repay his debt to me for saving him. I decided to accept and suggested that he become a bard on my behalf so that I might further my research and that he might regain his lost memories.

    >Truly?

    >Truly.

    Parviz thought to himself for a spell, twirling his mustache all the while. Was I convincing enough? I thought at the time.

    >I see that there are yet people of caliber in this country. I also see that there¡¯s no stopping you. ¡°Not one to falter¡± indeed. Very well. I will offer as much assistance as I can. What is the man¡¯s name?

    >Anon

    >Anon? As in ¡°soon?¡±

    >No, he told me that it was short for ¡°Anonymous.¡± Fitting for a man with no name, is it not?

    >Ah, he forgot even his own name? A shame.

    Parviz took out some parchment after saying this and began writing. He folded it neatly after finishing and placed it in an envelope before pushing it across the desk.

    >This is a letter of recommendation for an ¡°Anon.¡± Have him hand it to the bard¡¯s guild upon your arrival. It states that he has the full backing of Echo Bay in all his endeavors. You two might find difficulty trying to have him become officially recognized without any memories, but this should help. Tomorrow, I have business in Boarding myself. You¡¯re more than welcome to ride with me in my car the rest of the way¡­ One more thing.

    Parviz stood up from his chair and walked over to the wardrobe on his right. Opening it, he fetched a beige cloak. Handing it to me, he began to explain.

    >You might recognize the emblem on the back from your studies.

    Turning it over, I saw the distinct symbol of the Invisible Status faith.

    >A cloak of the Invisible Status? How on Cyberia did you acquire this?

    Parviz wagged his finger knowingly.

    >I¡¯m not just a mere collector. I¡¯m the greatest collector. As you know this cloak will hide your existence as a drator. It¡¯s the best gesture I could offer in protecting you; as I cannot be there personally¡­ Unfortunately, you may be looked at as a loon.

    I smiled and stowed the cloak away with my belongings. I spoke softly to myself.

    >Thank you¡­ Uncle Parviz.

    Several knocks sounded out on the door. Parviz responded to the knocks.

    >Yes, yes. Come in!

    <hr>

    Anon and I had just gone over the events of the fight. Due to his comfortable life, the fight went poorly, but he exhibits the desire to improve. For this, I¡¯m thankful, as Cyberia is fraught with peril outside of civilization. It would not do for him to perish needlessly. I revealed the effect the encounter had on my tention stores to him, to make known our urgency.

    >I¡¯m sorry I¡¯ve put you in this situation. First, you save me from disappearing, then you save me a second time from dying.

    Please, do not think of me so highly. Not bearing to look at him, I fashioned an excuse. But, was it an excuse for him, or for me?

    >It is quite fine¡­ I could not simply leave you to die after already saving you once. It¡¯s not as if I revived you out of pure altruism, for if you had been killed in that forest, I would have been left without a means to recover any energy at all.

    >But still, thank you for saving me.

    The genuine gratitude he showed shamed me. Quiet soon followed but was just as quickly broken.

    >¡­What if I charge your horns directly?

    It took me a moment to process his suggestion.

    >Pardon? Charge my horns?

    >Yeah, when I bought the gauntlet I learned how syncing to a yumnium focus actually works. What if I sync to your horns, then use my power to give you tention?

    >I¡­

    That thought hadn¡¯t occurred to me at the time, but with his outlandish power, it was indeed possible. Though there had been documentation of drator unsynching from their own horns for various reasons, the after-effects were mostly dreadful. There were cases of unwitting drator going unconscious for weeks, or even going comatose after unsuccessfully resynching.

    >I¡¯ll¡­ have to unsynchronize with my own horns. I¡¯ve never done that before. Unlike a regular yusur, when I sleep my connection to my focus remains intact¡­ I don¡¯t know what will happen. Only one person can be synced to a focus at a time.

    Is there another option? I had thought. Though, I came to the conclusion that were we to fail in Boarding I had no other method of recharging prepared. I was willing to risk everything for my goal, and utilizing Anon¡¯s power in this way would be a great boon to us.

    >If you think it¡¯s risky, we don¡¯t have to try it. It¡¯s just a thought I had. It¡¯s possible we won¡¯t need to do it and can finish the bardic exam in time to gather tention for you naturally with the knights.

    >No, I believe it will work. I won¡¯t die or anything outrageous, probably, but it might be discomforting.

    I removed my cloak and took my place in the center of the room. Anon came up to me before speaking.

    >Are you ready? Let¡¯s give it a shot.

    >I¡¯ve resolved myself. As this might remedy our dilemma, it¡¯s worth the attempt.

    Shutting my eyes, I began figuring out how to unsynch with my horns. It really did amount to a taboo, after all. No drator in their right mind would do this. Half a minute went by, perhaps more. I was not counting. Combing the very recesses of my mind¡­ probing with all that I had, I uncovered the link. I must struggle to stay conscious with all my being. I remember thinking. Then, I severed the thread.

    >Ugh¡­

    My sight and hearing went dim, and a pain I¡¯d never experienced before thrashed about in my head. Unable to stand, I leaned forward. Something stopped me before I fell. I mumbled a little, but the words were strained. I briefly lost the feeling of standing but was soon placed on my back. The thoughts flew about as I endeavored with all my might to remain awake. Something touched one of my horns; it felt comforting¡­ like he was there with me. I heard a voice. Brother¡­? I thought, deluding myself. Calmness spread, and the pain subsided. I began to reminisce about the past and the journey so far, before falling into slumber.

 Post 13

    >How are you feeling?

    Janice stretches as we walk towards Echo Bay¡¯s headquarters. She¡¯s wearing the cloak, so people aren¡¯t paying us much mind.

    >Better. As far as the effect of the charging¡­ we¡¯ve managed to stagnate the loss.

    >Good, but that¡¯s provided I don¡¯t use my power for anything but charging you, probably.

    >Indeed, but as long as we act conservatively our time is extended tremendously.

    I realize something odd, but since I¡¯m not dead, there must be an explanation.

    >Why didn¡¯t I disappear when you unsynched with your horns?

    Janice immediately takes this chance to speak at length about magic.

    >Aha, an astute observation. Summoning magic creates a special link between the summon itself and the focus used for the binding spell. It¡¯s one of the reasons summoning is primarily practiced by drator, as anyone using a cheap focus will experience a more difficult time maintaining their summons. So, when I unsynched from my horns, it did not sever the ties between you and the other White Knights to my horns themselves. They would have to completely run out of tention for you or the knights to fade.

    That¡¯s good. I assumed there was some gimmick because she didn¡¯t refuse outright to attempt my idea. At least it wasn¡¯t ¡°you have three minutes before you disappear.¡± We soon arrive at the headquarters where two vehicles await us. Parviz waves us over.

    >Good morning, friends! Are you ready to experience the joys of modern technology?

    I¡¯m not really looking forward to a road trip on these poor dirt roads in these old cars, but I¡¯m really curious about the technology itself. Parviz continues speaking.

    >Your guardians will ride with our escort in front of us. Jani, and Anon will join me in my vehicle. I will be your driver for today.

    Parviz looks ecstatic. It¡¯s like he¡¯s a sixteen-year-old kid just getting his license; extremely eager to show off to his friends. Joker, Duelist, and Juggler get up on the back of the truck in front. Immediately, Joker begins introductions between them and Parviz¡¯s personal guards. Have fun with that one. Janice and I get in the backseats of Parviz¡¯s vehicle and settle in. I reach behind myself¡­ No seat-belts. Right. I¡¯m so used to them.

    >Are you young¡¯uns ready for the experience of a lifetime? Do not fear, for I am an expert driver!

    >I think we¡¯ll be fine. ¡°Though this is my first time in a car,¡± I¡¯m not really scared. I¡¯m sure Janice is o-

    I look over, and Janice¡¯s hands are gripping her seat tightly. She looks visibly shaken. Parviz begins speaking to one of his employees standing outside of the car. I lean over and whisper to her.

    >Are you okay? Didn¡¯t you tell me you¡¯ve summoned and ridden on magic horses and beasts?

    >Correct, but I can speak to those! A car can¡¯t reassure me of my safety.

    On Earth, at least in the first world, children ride in cars as early as infancy. They learn as soon as they are born. A recluse like Janice hasn¡¯t experienced something like this in her whole life. I attempt to console her.

    >It¡¯ll be fine. As far as I¡¯ve seen, this planet¡¯s vehicles are virtually silent. The massive trucks I drive every day are twenty times as large as this car, and a hundred times as loud. You¡¯ll be okay.

    >A-alright. I¡¯ll try to calm down.

    >Are you both ready? Our escort is clear to go!

    Parviz doesn¡¯t wait for our response. He takes out a medal-like object and holds it up to a dull metal plate on the steering column. Janice jumps a little bit when the car begins to hum at a low frequency. The truck ahead of us pulls ahead, and soon Parviz ¡°steps on the gas.¡± We start moving quietly along the road. Eventually, we hit a steady top speed of what feels like around ~30mph. The road is wide, but is still just dirt and gravel, anything faster, and we¡¯d be bouncing around. Janice begins to calm down.

    >Splendid, isn¡¯t it? Technology truly is a beautiful thing. Nothing like it.

    Using the hand-crank and rolling down the window, I see endless plains around us. Blue paints the sky; nary a single cloud tarnishing the expanse above. The earth and grass pass us by steadily. I realize something and turn to talk to Janice.

    >Carsickness is common for people who don¡¯t ride often. Try not to look out the window for too long, or it¡¯ll make you nauseous.

    Janice nods her head and looks down. Parviz speaks up, surprised.

    >Anon, you know of carsickness? Have you ridden before?

    Whoops.

    >Ah, I¡¯m not sure. It sort of just came to me. Maybe I¡¯ve done it in the past, but my amnesia caused me to forget?

    Slipped a little bit.

    >Not entirely a shame, because you have the pleasure of experiencing your first car ride not once, but twice!

    ¡°Thrice.¡±

    >So what¡¯s this technology called? Does it have a name?

    >A name? This is simply a ¡°car¡± or an ¡°automobile.¡±Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    >No, I mean what do you call technology in general?

    Parviz seems confused.

    >You¡¯ve lost me, boy, technology is just technology. I¡¯ll be happy to explain more about cars, though.

    Uhuh. Let¡¯s ask something else.

    >What powers this car?

    >Why, a yuminium battery, what else would? Have you honestly forgotten that much? I will have to give you a crash course; otherwise you won¡¯t know your head from your feet when we arrive in Boarding!

    >Yuminium can be used for things other than spells? I saw a lamp at the market, but I just assumed that it was an oddity on its own.

    Janice speaks up, her voice a little shaky.

    >Y-yes, I neglected to mention. Yuminium is not o-only used to facilitate spellcasting¡­ but is also used to power vehicles¡­ a-and other technology. This¡­ is my first time seeing it up close¡­

    >Rightly so! Yuminium is the backbone of our society. The streetlights lining our streets, the trolleys, cars, stoves, our factories¡­ It¡¯s the great mover, and powers the light of yusurdom itself! There¡¯s a reason the yuze is backed by yuminium, as nothing on Cyberia is more valuable!

    Factories¡­ So the world must be undergoing something like an industrial era. Magitek?¡­ Tention powered tech. Heh, ¡°Tentek.¡±

    >Before we set off, you waved something on the side of the steering wheel to start the car. Was that a ¡°key?¡±

    >Yes, that was my personal key for my baby here. Almost impossible to duplicate! Unless you held a knife to my throat! Contains my ¡°password¡± for starting the vehicle. I don¡¯t quite know the intricacies, but it functions without fail!

    Interesting.

    >How common is owning a car?

    >Not very, as their price out-ranges the purse of the common yusur. Though, more and more vehicles are rolling out of factories to greet the streets every day! It won¡¯t be long until everyone that breathes owns one of these glorious examples of the triumph of society!

    Janice is just looking down with her eyes closed. I spot Joker waving at us from the back of the truck ahead. Reaching my arm out the window, I wave back. Many hours pass as I make idle talk with Parviz. Every hour or so, Parviz honks the horn of the car, and we take a ten-minute break. Janice eagerly welcomes the chance to leave the vehicle and walk around.

    It soon becomes dusk, and eventually, we hit farmland. The road splits off periodically, and sometimes I see trucks in the distance just patrolling the edges of the fields. Parviz informs me that they¡¯re city-funded patrols, a mixture of bards working for cheap and city personnel meant to protect the farms from monsters and bandits. Rarely, I see the odd tractor pulling this or that. Parviz informs us that the city is soon approaching. The edge of Boarding comes into view.

    The road eventually becomes sturdier, slowly turning to cobblestone as we approach. Buildings like these still stand in cities on Earth, but not to this scale. It¡¯s a little overwhelming to see a city this old, but I¡¯m not too worried. More and more vehicles pass us by as we cross the threshold and come onto the main street. A trolley passes by in front of us. It¡¯s the evening, so I assume that these roads are ¡°sparsely populated¡± compared to mid-day. Eventually, we park in a small lot near a building with the familiar Echo Bay above the entrance. Parviz speaks excitedly.

    >We¡¯re here, we¡¯re here! Well? How was it? A long, calming road-trip would ignite anyone¡¯s soul!

    >It was great, I appreciate you taking us the rest of the way. We owe you one.

    Janice slumps in her seat, exhausted.

    >It was nothing that great, I had business here regardless, and was going to make the trip by myself. The company is always pleasant; if anything you were doing me a favor!

    >Do you know of a place we can stay while we¡¯re in Boarding?

    >I do, I do! One of Echo Bay¡¯s finest hotels is near here in the city center a few blocks down from the Bardic Guild headquarters.

    Parviz turns off the car and gets out; Janice and I follow. The knights jump off of the truck and come to meet us. Joker speaks up.

    >That was really neat! Can we get ourselves a car, Master?

    Janice responds with a tired voice.

    >I think¡­ we will abstain for now.

    Parviz gives me directions to their hotel. It¡¯s not too far from here; about a five minute walk. I ask, and Janice confirms that she¡¯s capable of making the trip. If this is the industrial era, there are definitely at least horse-drawn carriage taxi services available, but she insists that she¡¯s alright. We begin to make the trek. People pass us by, but give us no mind, luckily. They really do look like people from the industrial era. The streetlights nearby all light up simultaneously. I wonder if this ¡°tentek¡± can detect low-light? Shit is magic after all. Eventually, we find the hotel. It¡¯s not difficult to spot, because its sign uses the same color scheme as Echo Bay¡¯s other buildings. A male receptionist greets us inside.

    >Welcome to the Log-Out. Will you be staying with us?

    >Yeah, Mr. Parviz said to show this to you.

    Parviz explained that I should just show the letter of recommendation at the hotel as well, to prove that I¡¯m not just claiming to be associated with him. The receptionist mostly just glances over the letter, presumably checking for the seal at the bottom. He hands it back to me.

    >Guests of the president himself, welcome. We¡¯re proud to offer you the family rate. How many beds do you need?

    >The knights are my summons and don¡¯t need sleep. We need two beds.

    He looks at me, then the knights, then at Janice, who is still wearing the cloak. Smiling all the while, he doesn¡¯t seem to break character or act as if anything is out of place.

    >Understood, one room will be 8 yuze per night. We also accept Karmics.

    Must be another currency. I hand over a 10 yuze coin, and he makes change. An eager bellboy in his lower teens leads us to our room on the second floor. Janice takes off her cloak and places it on the coat rack at the door. She takes a moment to explain the charging process to the knights, who each nod their head. She must not want to alarm them. The knights, ever full of energy, all sit at the table present in the room. Joker pulls out a deck of cards and begins to shuffle it. I wonder what they¡¯re going to play? Janice speaks to me.

    >I¡¯m utterly drained, but we must not neglect to charge my horns. Might we get started so that I may rest?

    >No problem. Lay down this time, because last night you collapsed the moment you unsynched.

    Janice lies down on one of the two beds, pulling the covers over herself. She¡¯s already about to fall asleep. I stand over her.

    >Ready?

    >Right.

    Janice concentrates for a bit but seems to unsynch faster than before. She¡¯s not really that used to it yet, though.

    >Ugh¡­

    Not wasting any time, I grab one of her horns, synch, make three shitposts, and unsynch.

    >Done. Good night.

    She doesn¡¯t say anything, but nods. I turn off the lamp in the room and eventually lie down on my own bed. It feels like it¡¯s been a long journey so far. I was taken from home, ended up with this strange crew on a strange planet. Magic is real, and I can cast it. Now I¡¯m about to become what amounts to a mercenary in an unknown country. It¡¯d be an understatement to say that I¡¯m worried, but I have to pull through, for the people back home; though their names escape me. However, there¡¯s one thing that bothers me. It keeps popping up in my mind, a nagging insect mocking me, but out of reach to swat. Nobody else seems to notice the elephant in the room, the not-so-subtle monster.

    You think I wouldn¡¯t fucking notice? White Knights, Boarding, Signature, ¡°yuze,¡± Cyberia¡­ This hotel is fucking called the Log-Out. E-Bay? ¡°The Four Great Channels?¡± Invisible Status? My power is shitposting on a fake magic computer. How many other things are named after internet terms? That piece of shit T has been offline since he last messaged me. I haven¡¯t gotten the chance to interrogate him yet. Am I actually comatose? Is this all some fever dream? It all feels real as it can be. I did get shot with an arrow after all. My mind swims for a while, but I eventually fall asleep.

 Post 14

    The knights were apparently playing all night, and as I rose out of bed, they began finishing up their game. How many rounds did they go for?

    >What did you play? And who won?

    Juggler responded first.

    >We played a basic iteration of Bards And Skalds. I won the most.

    Joker chimed in.

    >Duelist won the least! He sucks at cards!

    A scathing remark. Duelist said nothing in response and looked away, arms crossed. He might be genuinely frustrated. I decided not to press further. Janice began to stir at the noise. Wondering what time it is, I look around and realize there¡¯s a grandfather clock in the room with us. It follows the 12-hour format, just like Earth. It¡¯s eight in the morning. I don¡¯t really know if the time similarity is a coincidence or not. I speak to Janice as she awakens.

    >Good morning.

    She yawns and stretches before getting out of the bed. She then responds in kind.

    >Yes, good morning.

    >Do you know if inns like these have places to bathe? It¡¯s¡­ been a while since I¡¯ve showered.

    At home, I¡¯m used to showering every day. It¡¯s uncomfortable feeling unclean like this.

    >Ah, that¡¯s a good question. I¡¯m not quite sure¡­ you might ask the receptionist if they offer such services.

    >Yeah, that makes sense. I¡¯ll go and ask. Be back in a jiffy.

    >¡­What¡¯s a ¡°jiffy¡±?

    Ah, that colloquialism came out in English.

    >In a little bit, sorry.

    >Right.

    I head to the reception desk in the foyer and am unsurprised to find a different worker for the morning shift. Asking her about bathing facilities, she looks up my name in the guestbook to confirm I¡¯m not a walk-in before handing me two red cards with the word ¡°bathkey¡± on each of them. They¡¯re surprisingly hefty. Inquiring further, she explains that they¡¯re charged yuminium batteries that power the heating of the baths, then gives me a rundown on how to use them. Extremely convenient. Thanking her, I return to the room to find Janice patiently waiting.

    >Here.

    I hand her one of the keys and repeat the explanation I was given. The baths are private rooms, so Janice won¡¯t have an issue. Heading down to where I was told the bathrooms were, we find and each enter an unoccupied room. The bathtub is simple and white, and its piping is exposed. In the same room is what appears to be an actual flush toilet, though its design is dated. My knowledge of plumbing in the industrial era isn¡¯t really up to snuff, but I assume this to be a luxury. Very nice.

    At the base away from the tub is the receptacle described to me by the receptionist. I insert the bathkey, and the device immediately sounds a low continuous humming. Turning the faucet, water begins spraying out of the shower-head. It was explained that it takes a short while to heat up, so I undress and place my clothes on the nearby counter. Testing the water with my hand, it eventually reaches an acceptable temperature, and I step in the shower. Warm. Veeery nice. It¡¯s surprising to see heated facilities in what appears to be an industrial age, but magic ain¡¯t gotta ¡®splain shit.

    After cleaning up and getting dressed, I meet up with Janice back in the room. She starts speaking.

    >We should head to the guild earlier rather than later. Applying to be examined should be our first priority.

    >Right. We¡¯ll ask the receptionist for directions.

    Janice dons the hooded robe. And thus, we went downstairs, turned in the bathkeys, asked for directions, and went out into the sun. We are greeted by the cool spring air and the noise associated with the hustle and bustle of a lively city. Cars pass to and fro in the street, and I hear the sound of music in the distance. The lack of true combustion engines prevents the vehicles from drowning out the cheerful song. The trip shouldn¡¯t be very long, according to Parviz. We begin casually walking down the sidewalk. The knights keep behind us as to not take up too much space.

    Now that I can see the city in the sunlight, and without exhaustion from a car ride, I take the opportunity to soak in the sights. The vibrancy, activity, and color of the buildings, roads, and people betray the drab black and white photography that gave us a vision of the industrial era. Cars of various colors roll down the streets. In front of me, a window opens on the third floor of a brown brick building. A paperboy heckles passersby with the latest news as a woman nearby sweeps outside a bakery to start the day. Birds unknown to me fly above in the clear blue sky. Janice begins speaking to me as we walk.

    >According to my studies, the Invisible Status practitioners typically keep to themselves, so I suggest we concoct a cover story explaining our companionship.

    >Ah, that makes sense. They do sound pretty reclusive. What should we say if asked?

    >The most straightforward excuse is that you are merely acting as a bodyguard for me, as sisters of this faith are not usually trained to fight. The sect generally hires outside help as escorts if the need arises.

    >Sure. What happens if we meet a real Invisible Status member?

    >¡­I put on an act, and we pray they do not discover our ruse.

    Encouraging. I¡¯ll just hope that it doesn¡¯t happen.

    >Works for me.

    After several blocks and a right turn, a large plaza comes into view. The music is more pronounced now, as is the sound of the pedestrians crowding the square. I naturally approach the edge of the sidewalk at the crosswalk, but Janice expresses confusion.

    >How do we safely cross?

    I¡¯m surprised by this question, but only briefly before I remember that Janice lives in a secluded castle on a mountain.

    >See that guy on that box?Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    I motion towards the traffic conductor waving his arms around. Other people are already gathering next to us to wait as well.

    >He directs the flow of traffic and determines when it¡¯s safe to cross the street.

    Just as I finish, the man blows a shrill note into his whistle, does a few movements, and the cars stop for us. I begin walking with the crowd. Janice lags behind for a second but eventually catches up. There are a lot of people in this plaza browsing the plethora of stalls, enjoying the numerous performances, and just being generally lively. I feel overwhelmed by the vibrant colors of the various stalls and the clothes worn by passersby. Is there a festival going on? Joker begins speaking excitedly.

    >Wow, there are so many yusurs here! And they all look so different! Look at that one dance!

    Joker claps energetically as we pass through the plaza. Off in the distance, I can see what was described to me as the Guild Hall. Juggler starts talking to Joker.

    >Remember, we can¡¯t perform here until Anon becomes a Bard, or we might run into trouble with the authorities.

    The notion of street performances being banned isn¡¯t wholly outlandish to me, as depending on where you are in a town or city on Earth, you can¡¯t simply set up shop with your guitar and put out an empty hat anywhere you want. Though in this world, unchecked performers can do much more than simply gather spare change. Just as I¡¯m thinking of such things, a man in uniform passes us by. His attire is an eye-catching red, clean, and proper. The best way to describe it is a mix between an 1800s policeman and a stage performer. He sports a beret with a brown feather sticking out of it. Strapped on his back is a light brown lute. Is that a Troubadour? We pass through the crowds Janice stops outside the guild building.

    >I will remain out here with Duelist, as my entering the building with you might raise questions.

    >Got it, I¡¯ll try not to take too long.

    Hopefully, this isn¡¯t like a DMV, I pray to myself as I enter with Joker and Juggler in tow. The guildhall is just as active as the outside, as people of various builds dressed in various outfits and armors are scattered about, talking about this or that. A sizable group is patiently waiting in front of a large billboard, while others laze about. There¡¯s a stage across from the entrance, though no actor or singer stands upon it at this moment. People pay me no mind as I walk up and place myself in the short line in front of the counter, as the knights follow close by. Not even a minute later, I¡¯m speaking to the receptionist.

    >Welcome to Boarding¡¯s Bardic Guild, are you here to place a request?

    >Good morning. I¡¯m here to learn about becoming a Bard, and if possible, to begin the application process.

    >New faces are always welcome, do you have a residence in the city? Or are you from out of town?

    >I¡¯m currently staying at an inn nearby. I¡¯ve been scouted by Echo Bay and was told to present this letter when I applied to prove as such.

    I take out and place Parviz¡¯s letter of recommendation on the counter. She begins reading the letter and finishes rather quickly before speaking once again.

    >Not even official and you¡¯ve already got a sponsor, you¡¯re certainly on your way! The morning hours of operation are reserved for request submission, request acceptance, and other busywork. Are you available this afternoon to return for your performance, ¡°Anon¡±?

    As expected, it seems a live performance is required as a test for fledgling bards. We¡¯ll have to make use of the knights here.

    >Yes, I am. I¡¯m free any time in the afternoon.

    She begins jotting down something on a piece of paper in front of her before speaking again.

    >Wonderful. Your time slot is 2:15 PM. Come at least ten minutes early so we can confirm your arrival. Do you need any provisions or equipment for your performance in question?

    >No, I¡¯m a summoner. I¡¯m fully prepared.

    >A summoner? That¡¯s quite the rarity indeed! I¡¯ll be praying for your success, and I am looking forward to your performance. One second while I copy this letter for documentation.

    She takes what looks like a weird paint roller with a yuminium core in its handle out of the desk, along with a sheet of paper. Placing the page over the letter of recommendation, she does something I can¡¯t see to activate the roller and presses it across the paper, creating a duplicate copy. She then folds the original letter and places it back in the envelope before handing it back to me. Like magic.

    >Thanks. I¡¯ll be back around 2PM.

    Turning away from the counter, I begin to make my way towards the exit, but someone blocks the way.

    >Hey there, buddy, did I hear right that you were a bonafide summoner? Are these dudes your guys?

    In front of me is a well-built man, younger than me but not by much. At around my height, he sports a faded red shirt, forest green pants. and mustard brown boots. He flicks a comb smoothly through his short, spiky blonde hair before looking straight at me with blue eyes. Confidence seems to exude from him based on the way he carries himself. Strapped on his back is what appears to be a strange guitar, but I can¡¯t make out its features from this angle.

    >What¡¯s say you and I have a go? Test your mettle? I¡¯ve never fought a summoner before.

    What the hell is this?

    >I¡¯m not really looking for a fight, and I¡¯m not into hazing either.

    He grins, before cracking his knuckles audibly.

    >C¡¯mon man, live a little. Let¡¯s have a go.

    Before I can open my mouth to protest, Joker steps in front of me and speaks with a severe tone, addressing the man.

    >You¡¯re a Wordsmith.

    >Ohhhhhhh, the little guy has good eyes. How could you tell little man?

    >It¡¯s all in your eyes, there¡¯s no mistaking it. Anon, let me take this guy on.

    Joker points at the man, and he chuckles in response. Wordsmith?

    >I like your gumption, little dude. Try not to get knocked out too quick, right?

    __________________________________________________________________________________

    The young man doesn¡¯t let up, as a flurry of blows from a battleaxe swings at Joker. Blocking it with a shield, Joker leaps back, gaining distance. Before the assault begins again, Joker calls forth his trusty steed, a riding wolf, and starts running circles around the arena. The man reaches up into the air, and seemingly tears from the sky: lightning itself, before hurling it at Joker. It pierces the wolf, but not before Joker leaps off and produces two explosives that he sends flying in the youth¡¯s direction. The explosion sounds out, and smoke fills the area. Joker waits with his shield raised, but the smokescreen remains. It appears as though the fight has ended, but out from the smoke charges the man. He no longer carries an axe, but now sports two cesti, one on each hand, which he proceeds to pummel Joker¡¯s shield with. The assault is short-lived, as Joker is quickly overwhelmed. His guard broken, Joker is struck soundly and is sent back a few paces, thus ending the fight.

    The youth begins gathering up his cards as the match ends.

    >Gods, nothing beats a good round of Wordsmith.

    Joker, who¡¯s sitting across from the man, is completely devastated. He pounds the table in frustration, contrary to his usual demeanor. He was really into that game, huh.

    >I¡¯m sorry Anon, I¡¯ve failed you.

    >I-it¡¯s alright. You did your best. I¡¯m proud of you.

    That was a rather deep game of cards. Wordsmith, huh. The youth speaks to Joker.

    >You did good little man, where did you learn to play? It¡¯s not every day I play cards with a summon.

    >I only ever got to practice with the other knights. You¡¯re the first yusur I¡¯ve dueled with.

    >You¡¯re pretty practiced for someone who¡¯s never played a yusur before. I hope we can play again sometime. What¡¯s your name, guy?

    >I¡¯m Joker, this is Anon.

    >A pleasure exchanging blows with you, Joker. Anon, you¡¯ve got a good guy here watching your back. A game of Wordsmith lets men speak with their hearts. You¡¯re in good hands.

    He gets up and approaches me as Joker cleans up his deck.

    >Thanks.

    >My name is Jaddian Thunderrock. I¡¯m a Bard if you couldn¡¯t tell. I heard you¡¯re on for your trial performance in the afternoon? Unfortunately, I¡¯ll be out of the hall at that time, but you¡¯ll smash the exam if you¡¯ve got guys like Joker on your side.

    We exchange a firm handshake.

    >I won¡¯t disappoint. I¡¯ve got an acquaintance waiting for me, I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll see each other again, Jaddian.

    >Call me Jadd.

    >Got it.

    Jaddian heads over to the bulletin board to peruse the new postings the employees put up during the card game. Joker, Juggler and I head out into the plaza to meet up with Janice. What to do while we wait¡­