《Skyhome》 Chapter 1: Vertigo Simon awoke to an unfamiliar sensation. Warm sunlight on his face, creeping in through the narrow slit in the curtains. His drowsy mind compelled his eyes to open to narrow slits, immediately turning his head away from the accursed brightness, turning over in his comfy bed. Then the fog of sleep started to lift a little, and he came to a slow realization: the sunlight would only enter his room once it had crept over the houses across the street. He would often be working by then. He was not right now, even though he had an early appointment. Simon had forgotten to set his alarm. His stomach sank, and he jumped out of bed in a panic. He picked up the clothes that were the least dirty from his bedroom floor, wiggled his way into them, and quickly made his way out into the upstairs hall of his home, turning right past his ''office'' to his bathroom. A cold splash of water on his face and some extra deodorant would have to do for a shower. He quickly brushed his teeth, then ran down the curving stairs. Shit, my phone. He ran back up, got the phone from beside his bed, and made his way downstairs while checking the screen. Halfway down the stairs, he stopped. 06:09 AM, his phone displayed. His appointment was at 07:30 AM, so he had all the time in the world. So how did the sun shine into my room? He walked the rest of the way down the stairs, an unsettling feeling slowly rising with every step. Once down, he walked to the front door to his right, reached for the knob, and opened it. Sunlight poured in, and he shielded his face from the overwhelming radiance. Once his eyes had adjusted, he just stood there in the opening, mouth agape. A narrow path of ground stone made its way through the neatly-trimmed green grass of his garden. Any other day, the path would connect to the pavement of his suburban street. His house was on the smaller side compared to his neighbours¡¯, two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs connected by a hallway, where one of the rooms housed his computer and some supplies for an emergency assignment. Downstairs, a similar hallway with a broom closet under the stairs with stuff he could find no other place for, a simple bathroom at the end of the hallway, and a large combined living room and kitchen, divided by the kitchen counter. The yard in front of him was neat, but simple. Just green grass going around both sides of his house, finding its way around to the backdoor into his kitchen. It wasn¡¯t much, but about as much as he could expect from his location fairly close to the city center. Except, there was no city. Where the gravelly path was supposed to meet the pavement of the street, it just stopped in mid-air. The short brown picket fence surrounding his garden no longer seemed to be a border between his property and his neighbours¡¯, but rather between his property and clear blue sky. ¡°What the fuck?¡±, Simon muttered. Very slowly, he stepped out, placing his bare feet on the gravel. Ignoring the occasional sharp pebble, he cautiously walked to the edge of the path, got down on all fours, and peeked over it. Aside from the earthen foundation of his home, there was nothing but clouds, with the occasional stretch of green through the odd break in the cloud cover. He thought of two things that both terrified him. One, he was up very high. So high in fact, that he wasn¡¯t sure if the stretches of green he saw were grass, trees or perhaps even water. What really scared him was what he didn¡¯t see: a support. He¡¯d expected, or at least hoped, that there was something underneath his home that kept it there, supported it. Instead, it seemed it was just¡­ floating? A sensation of vertigo came over him, and he crawled away from the edge. What if his house wasn¡¯t actually floating, but in freefall? He¡¯d know if that were the case right? There was still gravity here after all. But could it suddenly decide to no longer float? Why was it floating in the first place? Would the ground suddenly drop out underneath him, making him fall to his death? Deep breaths Simon. At least it¡¯s a decent excuse to miss my appointment. After he had calmed down a little, he went back inside, shut the door and got his phone out of his pocket. The fact that he had no reception did not surprise him, but aside from that it seemed to be working just fine. So had the lights and water in the bathroom. How did he still have working utilities when there was clearly no real access to it? He walked to the living room to check what more still worked, but noticed something odd in the room. Where previously his TV had hung on the wall in front of him, there was now a large, oddly glowing ring, with in its centre something that looked like a gem, seemingly suspended there in mid-air. He carefully approached it. The ring and gem were gently pulsing with a bluish light, but it suddenly seemed to grow in frequency as he approached. It¡¯s not gonna explode right? He stepped back, nearly tripping over his coffee table, and landed on his couch. The ring returned to its gentle pulse. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°I need coffee¡±, Simon declared, and he got up and walked to his kitchen counter on his left. He walked around it to his coffee machine, and got to work. Thinking he was somewhat hungry too, regardless of what was happening, he also opened the fridge, only to behold a fridge that was far more fully stocked than he remembered. Everything was. He had enough food to hold himself over for weeks, and whenever he took something out, closed, and reopened his fridge, the missing item was replaced. Simon had food, utilities, pretty much everything ad infinitum. I¡¯m not gonna get billed for this suddenly at the end of the week, am I? He took his coffee and toast back to his couch, and plopped down on it. The ring had remained unchanged. As he ate breakfast, Simon thought of what to do. Simply living here for the rest of his life didn¡¯t seem impossible. Sure, he¡¯d go insane out of loneliness since this was basically a fancy prison, but he wouldn¡¯t die in the short term. Secondly, he wondered what had happened. Did his house and the yard around it just magically teleport to some place high in the sky? Was there just a hole left where his house had been? Could he go back there? Was he at risk of being hit by an airplane? He tried to connect his phone to the internet, but even though he had a wifi signal, there was no connection to any website. Am I going to be imprisoned without Mugbook? No Nile? No Porn?? Why me? There were many questions to be answered, but Simon realized he wasn¡¯t going to get anything answered by simply sitting around. He had a lead, and he was looking right at it. The ring, and the little diamond floating in its centre, the sunlight from the window on his right suppressing its glow only marginally. He was very certain he hadn¡¯t had that before. No drunk late-night purchase or gift from a client would ever result in something that could float. In air that is. He drank the last of his coffee, and got up to try again. He approached, and again the ring began to pulse faster and faster. And then Simon touched the ring. It was horribly anticlimactic. It just remained pulsing at a frequency similar to his own heartbeat right now, but aside from that, nothing of interest happened. The ring itself felt like a block of smooth marble, with a soft warmth radiating from it. Maybe it was just a fancy radiator? He hadn¡¯t tested that yet after all. His thumb barely touched his fingers when he closed his hand around the ring. It had a diameter similar to an arm¡¯s length, and as far as he could tell was completely immovable. The little diamond seemed a lot more mobile, so he grabbed it, and suddenly the ring flashed a bright blue, and a searing pain traveled up his right arm. Dazed, blinded and in pain, he jumped back, and fell over the coffee table, landing with his ass between the couch and the table. He barely registered the fall, and was clutching his right hand tightly with his left. Like the pulse had transferred into his arm, there was a throbbing, burning pain that radiated throughout his entire body from the palm of his right hand. Tears welled up in his eyes, and just when he was about to scream out in pain, it suddenly stopped. He blinked away his tears, and took a deep breath. ¡°That hurt. That was a stupid thing to do Simon. Never mess with what you don¡¯t fully understand,¡± he chastised himself. The ring had stopped pulsing, and was now a cold blue. The palm of Simon¡¯s hand was a little red, but nothing else. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me I just short-circuited my food supply,¡± Simon groaned. That would be bad. If the ring actually was powering all the conveniences left in his home, and the pulse had been some sort of warning, then he was screwed right now. He noticed the little diamond was missing from the ring, and looked around on the floor in hopes of being able to put it back and restore power to the ring. However, he did not see it. He got back up, and walked to the kitchen. To his relief, everything still seemed to work, but he didn¡¯t know for how long. Let¡¯s just hope it didn¡¯t screw anything up. Feeling somewhat fatigued from the whole ordeal, Simon left the room and went back upstairs. He was still supposed to get properly washed, and figured he had all the time in the world right now. He certainly wasn¡¯t going anywhere. Right when he wanted to get in the shower however, he noticed something in the mirror. The little diamond from before now seemed to be firmly embedded into his chest, like he was some sort of Metal Man. He looked down at the little rhombus, and gingerly touched it. It felt cool to the touch, but not necessarily odd. Aside from there suddenly being a weird gem entrenched in his sternum, he didn¡¯t feel anything out of the ordinary. Strangely enough, he even felt the touch of his own fingers through the gem, as if it were a part of him. This day keeps getting weirder and weirder. At least this had taken his mind off the fact that 10 meters below him there was nothing but kilometers of air before a sudden hard ground. He elected to keep his focus on the gem instead while he took his warm shower. When he was done, Simon dressed in clean clothes and went back downstairs. The ring still seemed his best option of figuring out what was up, so he returned there. Once again, he cautiously approached it, but it did not seem to have any reaction to his approach this time. However, when he grabbed it again, a weak glow returned to it. He stood in front of it, and grabbed the opposite end of the ring with his other hand. Suddenly, the ring grew bright, and the wall that he saw through the ring was replaced by a swirling blue mist. Simon let go, and the mist evaporated. Then he grabbed it again, and held it as the mist returned. He could feel a connection to it. It was impossible to describe, but he felt the gem in his sternum being drawn towards that mist, and Simon felt as if he was holding on to a force that wanted to move through the gem into the mist. And he let the force go. Chapter 2: Avatar The force from Simon¡¯s chest was drawn into the blue mist, and he felt it beyond that mist. Like an appendage he had never used before, he felt that he could control it, and move it around, like a sensitive fishing line that he had control over. So he tried to move it. As he did, he became aware of different sensations, as if there were distinct forces within that mist, that he could call out to. He could make out... four? No, five. ¡°This is SO weird¡± Simon told himself. He figured he must look pretty silly, standing in front of a floating ring with mist in it, a white-knuckled grip on opposite sides of it. He went nearer to one of the forces he sensed within, and felt himself being filled by a sense of strength. Like he was a boulder tumbling down a mountain, crushing all in its path. Or perhaps the mountain itself, unassailable. The feeling grew stronger and stronger, until he suddenly felt a connection. The billowing mist in front of him turned to a dark red color, like old blood, and symbols seemed to form from it. That¡¯s not good. At first he was unable to read these symbols, but the longer he looked at each of them, the more it began to make sense, until something suddenly clicked, and he was gazing upon the following: The Hammer The Hammer is the unbroken Archon of controlled fury. A master of close combat, he is skilled at wielding any melee weaponry, and has the ability to wield it with deadly consequences. While less menacing from a very large distance, when he is encountered in enclosed space, it is only fit that one kneels and offers their neck.
SKILL DESCRIPTION
Armsmaster (Unique) You are master and possessor of any armor and melee weapons you conquer.
Impressive I Lesser beings are less inclined to mess with you.
Lesser Strength You are stronger than ordinary beings.
Lesser Vitality Your body is tougher than that of ordinary beings.
Lesser Endurance You can exert yourself longer than ordinary beings.
Current level: 1 Progress: 0% Would you like to adopt this Archon for now? ¡°Hunh, so I can like, pick this class or something?¡± Simon wondered. It all felt like some sort of game. Save the world and all after you learn how to play as a certain character. However, it offered him to adopt it for now. Did that mean it would not be a permanent thing? He was unsure, but just in case this was a permanent thing, and out of pure curiosity, he decided to look at the other forces, or apparently Archons, as well. Let¡¯s just hope the rest don¡¯t want any more necks than necessary. Next, Simon withdrew from this force, and the mist returned to a swirling blue. He approached one of the other forces, this one filling him with a breath of fresh air, like a sip of water for a man in the desert. ¡°I like this one a lot more already.¡± He connected with it, and the mist was turned a sunny yellow, like evaporated gold. The Pillar The Pillar is the radiant Archon of chained stability. A highly charismatic master of deception and support, he wields many Weaves that enhance or disable friend or foe. While no great threat when encountered on his own, he is an unbreakable shackle in any army, and a fearsome leader to oppose.
SKILL DESCRIPTION
Strength in Numbers (Unique) Enhancing or disabling Weaves come easy to you and are undetectable until they come into effect, their effectiveness is greatly enhanced by the target¡¯s acceptance of the Weave
Radiant I You are charismatic and inspire trust and confidence. Others are more easily inclined to believe you
Lesser Healer Your Weaves directed at healing are more efficient and easier to control
Lesser Enhancer Your Weaves directed at enhancing are more efficient and easier to control
Lesser Disabler Your Weaves directed at disabling are more efficient and easier to control
Current level: 1 Progress: 0% Would you like to adopt this Archon for now?The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. This one is pretty neat, and would actually be quite useful in a civilized society. Simon felt a little more hope that he would not just be thrust into some sort of toxic post-nuclear wasteland. Still, even Insane Mike had its tribal societies, so it wasn¡¯t any guarantee for something better. He wondered what these Weaves were, but guessing from the description it was likely what spells were called by this ring. The next force he encountered was the one he did not detect at first. Sure, he was by no means an expert at this yet, but it was definitely harder to connect to it than the previous ones were. When he did connect to it, he saw why in the dark grey mist that appeared. The Whisper The Whisper is the hidden Archon of dark shadows. A silent master of stealth and infiltration, he wields darkness and daggers to get what he wants. If uncovered, he is no more capable at direct combat than the average fighter, but when he remains in the shadows, the Whisper is the last thing one hears.
SKILL DESCRIPTION
Shadowborne (Unique) You are part of the shadows, and they are part of you. You can move unseen in the darkness, and Blink between dark areas.
Featherweight I You can increase and decrease your weight a small degree.
Dagger Mastery I You are more talented with a dagger than ordinary beings.
Lesser Agility You are more agile than ordinary beings.
Lesser Perception Your senses are more sensitive than those of ordinary beings.
Current level: 1 Progress: 0% Would you like to adopt this Archon for now? This one offered a chance. While he wasn¡¯t terribly excited at the prospect of being an edgelord shadowlurker, the fact that it possessed featherweight might be a way for him to get down out of this prison. He was not looking forward to simply jumping down and breaking his legs, but if the weight decrease was significant enough, it might offer a chance at survival. Also, if he trained some with it he might actually be able to decrease his weight to near zero! The level thing hinted at that possibility at least. Still, it might not be too realistic to do this on a short term. After all, he did not even know the requirements for gaining these levels. Would he simply have to be this Archon for a certain period of time? Or would it be more like a game system, gaining levels by killing stuff? If that were the case, he would be up here for eternity anyway. Deciding to see if there was anything better still, Simon disconnected from the Archon of shadows, and made his way to the next one. The next one felt oddly familiar however. It was like seeing an old friend, and he could swear he smelled baked apple pie as he connected to this Archon. A welcoming light green mist billowed up, replacing the blue, and when Simon read it he nearly jumped for joy. The Housecarl The Housecarl is the welcoming Archon of the Skyhome. While he possesses no strength in battle or leadership, he can be relied upon to take care of you in his Skyhome. As master of the Skyhome, he has absolute control over its contents and its movements, and decides who is welcome and who is not.
SKILL DESCRIPTION
Skyhome Steward (Unique) You control the Skyhome and its features, and are familiar with all its contents.
Cozy Caretaker I You are able to affect the status of beings within the Skyhome to a small degree.
Cook New recipes come more easily to you, you are more creative.
Lesser Endurance You can exert yourself longer than ordinary beings.
Lesser Charisma You are more likeable than ordinary beings.
Current level: 1 Progress: 0% Would you like to adopt this Archon for now? This had to be the one that might get him back down! If he could control the house, then he could simply float it back down to the ground, and safely leave. If he could then just figure out where in the world he was right now, then maybe he could find a way back to his hometown. If that was even a thing in this world. Hell, he didn¡¯t even know if this world was still Earth. Considering the weird shit that had happened in the last few hours, it was no stretch to assume he was now in a place where Weaves or Skyhomes were a recognized thing. Still, his curiosity compelled Simon to look at the last Archon in the ring, so he once again disconnected his fishing line and felt for the final force. It reminded him of the first, as it too gave him a sensation of power, but this time it felt less ominous and more¡­ Joyful? Perhaps energetic was the word, Simon thought as he connected to it. Blue was substituted for a deep orange this time, and Simon read. The Dancer The Dancer is the destructive Archon of combat Weaves. An agile master of quick yet punishing abilities that allow him to decimate foes at range, and evade foes up close. If you somehow manage to limit his movements and fight him up close, you have a decent chance at bringing him down. If.
SKILL DESCRIPTION
Born Ready (Unique) You can cast and read most Weaves near-instantaneously, and form Weaves with greater efficiency. Combat Weaves are mastered with greater ease.
Deadly Dancer I You are more limber and agile than ordinary beings, and can form Weaves from most positions.
Lesser Endurance You can exert yourself longer than ordinary beings.
Lesser Vitality Your body is tougher than that of ordinary beings.
Lesser Perception Your senses are more sensitive than those of ordinary beings.
Current level: 1 Progress: 0% Would you like to adopt this Archon for now? This one seemed pretty cool. To be able to shoot fireballs or something as you run around a battlefield was straight from a comic book. Still, it was not more useful to Simon right now than the Housecarl. So, Simon switched back to the green mist, and stared at the symbols in front of him. A few questions came up. First, how did he adopt an Archon? Should he simply say yes or something? Before he even tried something however, he was held back by the fact that he had made an assumption that may very well be incorrect. He had assumed that he would become this Archon or whatever. But perhaps that would not be the case. What if instead he summoned something by adopting it? Sure, the skill descriptions seemed to suggest he would take on those powers, but he wasn¡¯t certain of that. Also, would he change? Or would the old Simon die and be replaced by a lunatic with axes who demanded people kneel and offer their necks? Would he turn into a Goth who refused to leave the shadows? There were a lot of unknowns here. However, Simon saw few other ways of improving his situation, and if any of those scenarios came to pass, he supposed he could live with or as a kind old Housecarl. So Simon focused on the fishing line connected to the Housecarl, and tried to go deeper. Something seemed to give, and a rush of force came in over the connection, followed by green mist billowing out of the ring, blinding Simon to his surroundings and covering the surface wherever he looked. He tried to let go of the ring, but he found that he couldn¡¯t move at all. The rush seemed to go on and on, and then just stopped. Simon finally let go of the ring, and looked around him. ¡°Woah¡±. Chapter 3: Thank You For Smoking Simon¡¯s home looked different. Everything seemed a little cleaner, a little more comfortable, softer. His old couch, bathing in the morning sun, was begging him to lie down on it and take a nap, and there was a smell of freshly baked bread in the air. The wall behind the ring suddenly had a hearth with a grate in it, with wooden blocks ready to be lit. It felt like a home, rather than a place to stay. Simon looked down at himself, and noticed he was wearing a comfortable green vest, with a green shirt underneath it and black trousers made of a soft cloth. As he inspected the rest of the house, he noticed everything had had a similar treatment. It radiated comfort. One major change was that when he went back to the ring, he noticed he knew how to use it. He had done so many times before after all. It was part of his home, and thus part of him. Or at least, that was how it felt. He grabbed the ring, and found he could twist it clockwise. Then, the ring was able to move. It was still suspended in the air, but it was mobile now. He moved it to the wall behind his couch, next to the doorframe, where it wouldn¡¯t be in the way of the hearth anymore. Then he twisted it counterclockwise again, and it was locked in place. He thought of something he wanted to try out. It felt as if he had done it before, but he could not recall actually doing it. He moved to one of the four chairs at his square kitchen table. With a touch and a thought, the chair turned into blue smoke that sank into the floor. ¡°Hah, up in smoke,¡± Simon chuckled to himself at his bad pun. Then, he tried to bring it back, and the smoke reappeared and formed the same chair. He tried it again, but with a different chair design in mind, and to his surprise it worked. He tried creating an extra chair, but found it was more difficult, as if it placed a strain on him. He got rid of one of the chairs, and tried something complex, yet useful. A second later, blue smoke cleared over a gun, placed on the table. Simon picked it up, feeling the heavy steel in his palm, but quickly noticed it seemed to have no moving parts at all, more like a convincing prop. It seemed that the ring held a reserve, converting items within his home to smoke and storing it as some form of power. Like a weird battery. However, drawing more energy from that battery than he had put in fatigued him. Not necessarily his mind, but rather his body as a whole, as if he had run up the stairs. It wasn¡¯t by much, but noticeable nonetheless. Also, more intricate items that contained moving parts were not very functional. He left his furniture-experiments be for now, and focused on what was necessary. The ring also powered the movement of the Skyhome, and needed power to do so. If he just converted the items he deemed unnecessary for now, he could perhaps make his home move towards the ground. He started out small. He converted silverware, garbage, clothes that didn¡¯t fit anymore. He tried to convert some of his infinite supply of water, but it seemed it did not add anything. Rather, he felt it diminished the rings power some if he did not let it go down the drain or smoke it and kept it in a bucket. When Simon had smoked everything he didn¡¯t feel was useful, and felt that the rings power had definitely increased, he went outside. If I¡¯m going to move the house, I need some sort of reference point to see if I am actually moving. Simon looked around, however there was nothing but blue sky and clouds beyond the wooden pickets of his fence. If he was going to move, he would need to move a pretty large distance to see any difference. And so he did. He directed the Skyhome to move downwards at walking speed, and promptly dropped to his knees, taking heaving breaths and feeling every muscle and bone in his body ache as if he had just run a marathon. It seemed that moving the home was costly. Very costly. If moving at walking pace for even half a second completely drained the ring and him, then he had to smoke more objects than he currently had in order to get even halfway to the ground. Simon slowly got up, trudged back into his home, and dropped onto the couch, where he fell asleep immediately. When Simon woke up, the sun had passed its zenith. He sacrificed a kitchen chair to the Ring God to restore some power and regain use of his utilities, then had a lunch of bacon and eggs on toast -so much for creative cooking- and went back to thinking on his predicament. Moving the house to the ground was not possible right now. Which maybe meant that the Whisper¡¯s Featherweight skill was his best option of getting down after all. However, the ring felt like it had more uses than it had shown so far. He went to it, and while it was already locked in place, he rotated it 90 degrees counterclockwise once more. A thin, transparent blue film appeared in the ring, with symbols on it that seemed to show him a menu.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Archon Mirror Available items
ITEM DESCRIPTION
Skybeacon A single-use Charm that transports the user to the Skyhome
Impact Counter A single-use Totem that returns any damaging impact to its wielder in the direction it came from
Allpower Gauge Measures and quantifies the amount of Allpower in an object
Available functions Currently no available functions General skills Currently no available general skills Level: 1 Charge: 1% Upgrade currently unavailable Simon palmed his face. He should have checked this first. The combination of an Impact Counter and a Skybeacon were clearly what he required to make his way down and back up. If he hadn¡¯t let himself get carried away by the possibility of floating his house to the ground, he wouldn¡¯t be having this ache in his muscles. Well, live and learn. The percentage drew his attention. So far he had only seen 0% with the Archons, but clearly he had done something here to increase the ring¡¯s -or Mirror¡¯s- power. The obvious answer was that he had some smoked chair left in the Mirror from his lunch. To test it out, he summoned a small stool next to him, and watched the counter tick down to zero again. He smoked the stool, and the percentage returned. Then he tried to summon this Skybeacon from the Mirror, but he could feel a resistance that he felt indicated he lacked power. Lacked Allpower? Was that the name for whatever powered this Skyhome? Whatever it was, he needed more if he was going anywhere. This time around on his way throughout his home, Simon smoked objects that may have some use, but were more of a luxury than anything. His kitchen table and chairs were smoked, some paintings in the hallway were smoked, a flower vase and its contents were smoked, and so on. When he returned to the Mirror, he was happy to see he had 8% to ¡°spend¡±. He withdrew the Skybeacon for 3%, the Impact Counter for 2%, and had to smoke his nightstand to withdraw the Allpower Gauge for 4%, which left him with just 1% again. Out of curiosity, he took the Gauge which looked like a meat thermometer and held the end against the Mirror. The needle of the dial went up by a small amount, indicating it currently held 5 SU. Whatever that meant, at least he now knew he needed to collect at least 495 SU more to fill up the Mirror and maybe gain more options, hopefully ones that included a way back to a semblance of normal life. He placed the Gauge against various household objects, and noticed that the bigger they were, the more SU they typically contained. He smoked the vacuum cleaner -everything was cleaner than ever anyways- and other cleaning items, and took out one more Skybeacon and another Impact Counter. He needed to test this after all. He was not going to gamble on dropping down and simply turning into mush because he used it incorrectly. He went upstairs to his bedroom, and opened the window. The way down to his front yard wasn''t long, certainly not fatal, but it would definitely count as an impact if one landed poorly. The Impact Counter looked like a pin with the image of a shield. He pinned it to his vest, and made ready to jump out of the window. He left the two Skybeacons, little green jade plates with the carving of a house in it, and the remaining Impact Counter on his bed. Simon looked down at the grass beneath him, sat in the windowsill, and jumped, landing on both feet and touching the ground with the tips of his fingers for balance. When he got up, he noticed that nothing seemed off about the Impact Counter. It was not a damaging impact after all. Resolved to hurt himself this time, he made his way back up the stairs, into his room, walked to the window, and dove out head first. This was going to be a far more awkward landing, and when his outstretched arm hit the ground, Simon heard the sound of glass fracturing, and felt his momentum leave him through his arm into the ground. The rest of his body made a fairly soft impact with the ground, and he got up, unhurt. There was a very shallow dimple in the ground where his arm had made first contact with it. Other than that, the little shield on his jacket had a dent in it. It was a very odd sensation to simply lose all momentum without injury or even a feeling of deceleration. He went back into the house, smoked what was left of the used Impact Counter, and returned to the Mirror. There was really only one course of action left to him now. No excuses. He was going to jump off the edge and see what lay beyond. Chapter 4: Falling Down If Simon was going to jump down and risk hostilities with whatever it was that lived beneath him, he needed to be prepared. As such, he returned to the Mirror, and selected the Archon he felt offered the best chance of survival for someone with no experience with magic thingamajigs. That basically ruled out the Archons with a Weave dependence, which left either the Hammer or the Whisper. While he was drawn to the Lesser Vitality the Hammer seemed to have -being able to take a hit might be useful after all- he chose the Whisper, since he felt that hiding required less skill, and being unseen in the darkness might be very useful if he would encounter something more powerful than him. He connected to the dark grey mist, and dug deeper within in an attempt to adopt the Archon of darkness. The force flooded his body through his sternum once again with a sharp ache, accompanied by the dark grey mist that obscured his vision. When he opened his eyes, he looked around for new changes, and found that his home felt ordinary again, the way it had before he¡¯d adopted the Housecarl. His clothes had been replaced by a black short-sleeved vest with a grey shirt underneath, and black boots underneath black pants. Yup, he''d turned into an angsty teen. He also noted a difference in height. Where first his eyes had been level with the top part of the ring, they were now slightly lower. He wondered what else had changed, and noticed he seemed to have less fat on him, and more lean muscle, strong arms sticking out of his shirt with calloused hands. Also, where there had first been a welcoming hearth now stood a small, simple wooden table with some items on it. He approached it, and smiled at the fact he would not jump completely unprepared. On the table was a utility belt with a holstered dagger and room to store small items. There was also a warm long overcoat, that surprisingly was not a sunny yellow. It was black as night aside from a dark red inner lining. Of course. He almost expected to find a fedora and a katana somewhere, but was glad those were not part of the costume. He donned the belt and coat, and stored both Skybeacons in separate places to ensure he would be able to return. One in his belt, and the other he tucked into his right boot. His remaining Impact Counter was once again pinned to his chest, and the Gauge got a spot opposite to his dagger, on his left hip. Before jumping, he wanted to familiarize himself with his new body. He went out the front door, turned around, and tried climbing into his bedroom window. Which actually wasn''t all that difficult. Simon hadn''t been out of shape before, but the lean muscle and smaller size of this body made his previous body seem sluggish and unrefined. He climbed around his house a bit more, wincing at the weathered roof tiles, then eagerly turned to testing out his abilities. The scale in his bathroom had fortunately survived the previous purges, as he had luckily had the foresight to use it as a test for his Featherweight ability. When he got on, he noticed he weighed only 70kg compared to his previous 84kg. He then focused on his weight, and willed the little needle on the dial to go down. Nothing happened. He closed his eyes and tried to feel for his weight, and to draw it into him like taking a breath of mass. Something worked. He looked down, and saw he now weighed 60kg. He tried to draw in more, but it would not go much further. If he focused he managed 58kg, but when he lost that focus he quickly gained a few extra kilos. It was definitely not too consistent in the amount he lost, but he couldn''t help being amazed. ¡®Doctors don''t want you to know this amazing trick to lose weight!'' Simon chuckled to himself. When he got off the scale, he felt a notable increase in the lightness of his movements, as if he had just dropped a sack of potatoes. However, he also felt some strain on his muscles. Changing his mass or whatever it was, it required some of his energy. He looked at himself in the mirror. He didn¡¯t seem thinner. Just regular Simon, except a little shorter and more muscular, hair perhaps a shade darker than it was. Next, Simon shut off the light in the bathroom, plunging the windowless chamber into darkness. It felt¡­ kind of nice. Cosy. At home. While there was no light source, he was still able to see what was around him in clear shades of grey. His hands however were a little harder to make out. It almost seemed to be the color of whatever was behind it, and while he could see his hands when he moved them it was quite a bit harder when he did not. This was worth the lack of coloured clothes, he mused.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He then tried if this Blinking thing was possible. He knew he should be able to do it. He simply had to let himself sink into the darkness around him while focusing on a different spot of darkness. But that was a lot easier theorized than done. The Whisper may know how to do it, but to Simon it felt unnatural to simply sink into a solid surface. He tried it for some time, before he got the notion to think of the darkness as water, and he would just take a dive. He let himself fall back while focusing on a spot a meter in front of him, and felt a cool sensation spread out from his back, quickly engulfing his body. And then he fell through it, the sensation once again retreating from his back while he emerged from the spot he had focused on. I just motherfucking teleported! Holy hell! Simon tried a few more times, and quickly grew more accustomed to the odd feeling, to the point where he even tried to run into a wall and come out on the opposite end of the bathroom. However, the strain on his body was building rapidly, and by his sixth Blink he was taking deep breaths with his hands on his head. He wouldn''t quite call it ''mastery'', but he at least seemed able to consistently do it, and even change his orientation on emergence. Satisfied with his quick progress, Simon left the bathroom and went back downstairs. He had dinner, packed a small, dark blue backpack with food and water, and had a short nap after an exhausting day. He set his alarm for in a few hours. When it went off, he was quickly awakened at the prospect of his next move. He pocketed the phone, grabbed his backpack, and went outside. Just this morning he had woken up thinking he still had a job to do, and now, as the sun had long been replaced by a full moon that lit his yard and wisps of cloud beyond, he was preparing to jump down several kilometers without a parachute. He reconsidered the whole thing. When thinking of his current abilities, landing in the dark was definitely the way to go. But it was not the timing that bothered him so much. It was the fact that he simply did not know what awaited him down there. His Beacons would definitely help him out if something unexpected happened, but his fear of the unknown remained. Would the Impact Counter work with this large an impact? Would the Counter simply absorb the blow against the highest tree branch he hit, dooming him to fall the rest of the way without it? Would he land in the middle of Times Square? Simon peeked over the edge once more, and while the cloud cover seemed to have diminished, he still could not see what the surface consisted of despite the fairly bright moonlight. It didn''t matter, he had prepared as much as he could, Simon concluded. He stepped back from the edge, took one more deep breath, sprinted at the dark sky and jumped. The first thing he noticed was how cold it suddenly became. Stinging winds rushed past him, forcing his eyes to close. He was falling blind now, and a mild panic began to set in, animal instincts of his hairy ancestors struggling against his rational mindset. Deep breaths, Simon. But to his dismay, he found that was near impossible. The freezing, rushing wind fought him every step of the way, and every breath he took was spent by the time he could take another one. The simple act of breathing he''d taken for granted was a struggle now, and it only increased his panic. I was way higher up than I thought! If I pass out right now, I will be done for if I land in water! Simon kept up the struggle, wresting away as many breaths as he could from the quickening air, but he felt the cold spread through his lungs, impairing his muscles, stacking the fight against him even further. His chest seemed to tighten, thoughts came more sluggish and a subtle ache started building in his head. He felt freezing droplets clinging to his face, and Simon tried opening his eyes to slits once more. All he saw was clouds tumbling around him rapidly. In a desperate effort, he tried to pull his coat up over his face and breathe the air trapped within. It seemed to work, but only briefly, as the feeling of suffocation quickly returned. He searched his pocket for the Beacon, but his vision was poor, his fingers numb, and his mind too clouded by panic and oxygen-deprivation to remember he¡¯d put it in his belt. He felt himself rapidly growing weaker, dark spots appearing in his vision, just as he got a glimpse of where he was headed. Well, at least it''s not wate... Chapter 5: Contact Jotar hated guard duty at the shrine to Havo, praised be her Mind. Jotar hated guard duty at night. Jotar especially hated guard duty with the haughty Giso. Tonight was the trifecta of misery for Jotar. While he did not have a particular dislike for the shrine itself, the fact that it was utterly useless to guard it was what irked him so. No sane Havoyan would even think of blaspheming the shrine, and travelers or immigrants knew better than to piss off the well-armed and zealous Havoyans, so the chances of it being vandalised were close to nil. That, along with it being closed at night, ensured it would be a long, uneventful waste of time. Normally, he would take the opportunity to sit down with his fellow guard and play a game of Urm, but the stuck-up Giso would likely report him to their superior for disregarding his duty. Jotar snuck a glance to his right at the other guardsman. Even now while no one was paying attention, he stood straight as the stick in his ass, watching the approach to the gate like a hawk. Well, he does have something to prove, Jotar conceded. Giso needed to show his worth as third-born of his Noble house, and could not afford anything less than stellar performance. If he performed well, he would rise through the ranks more quickly than any lowborn ever could. Sadly, Jotar had to acknowledge that part of his enmity towards Giso was out of envy. Jotar too worked hard every day, honing his skills with the glaive and shield, but would probably not be recognized for it. Giso also just did his best. Yet Jotar simply couldn''t make himself like his fellow Havoyan. Jotar looked behind them at the object of his duty. Beyond the open gate in the high brick wall, in the middle of the spotless white square, stood the shrine to Havo. Every Havoyan man, woman, and child in the city made a trek outside the city gates over the paved road at least once a month to pay their respects to the statue of the woman underneath the red tiled roof, supported at its corners by intricately carved wooden pillars. The offerings of the day had been collected, most of it supposedly going to the maintenance of the shrine and the Shrine Path, least of it to the livelihood of its monks. He envied those monks at times. Sure, a life of celibacy wasn''t something to look forward to, but being paid to just chant all day and bless people didn''t seem too bad. Then Jotar would think of how bored he would be, and the feeling would be dismissed quickly. Jotar could sometimes get lost in the object of the monks'' worship, though. The statue of Havo sometimes almost felt alive, with how realistic the marble looked. Even the hair had been carved out, and the hand resting on her naked hip actually seemed to press into flesh. Her eyes genuinely looked caring, as she reached out to her praying followers. The scar on her exposed chest, imitated in some way by every Havoyan family with their own version, seemed as if it was recently carved into it, though Jotar knew the original sculptor was long dead. "We should be watching the road", Giso declared without even looking at Jotar. Ass. "I know, just checking to see if she is still there", Jotar mocked, turning back. Giso scoffed at the remark. "You can still look at her for the rest of your life whenever you''re on guard duty. There''s no need to take it all in at once." Jotar silently ground his teeth at that. "Perhaps it''s you who should regard her more. You know, before your uncle promotes you somewhere else." Giso ignored that, but the uncomfortable silence only grew. Jotar refused to be the one to break it, and was relieved when Giso conceded after a few minutes. "I''m making another round. Keep your eyes on the road, and watch the edge of the forest." Giso stiffly turned, and walked through the gate, keeping close to the wall and beginning an overly meticulous inspection of the shrine grounds. Jotar was thinking of something to annoy him with for when he returned, when both guards were suddenly alerted by the sound of something violently shattering. They both quickly assumed a stance with their glaive and shield, ready to attack, but the moonlight only shone upon a splintered object marring the surface of the floor in front of the statue of Havo. Giso was closer, and quickly inspected what it was. He knelt down at the object.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. "What the hell is thi-" Giso began, before the body of a man suddenly but violently impacted with the top of his head. What resulted was a sickening wet crunch and a sticky red dye being spread over the formerly pristine shrine grounds. Jotar reeled back in shock, the force of the impact not sparing his sandaled feet from the crimson splatter. Where there had been his fellow guardsman but a moment ago, was now a figure clad in black and blood, motionless amidst the Noble''s gory remains. "By Havo," Jotar couldn''t help but call out to the bloodstained Goddess, as he cautiously approached the figure. ¡­ As warm air made its way back into Simon¡¯s lungs, he regained consciousness. An awful smell was the first thing that hit him, and his face rested in something warm and sticky. He was alive at least. He slowly opened his eyes to a sideways world, where the white wall was bathed in moonlight and what looked like blood. Simon groaned and slowly pushed himself up. He looked in front of him, straight at a naked white-skinned woman. He was startled for a brief second before he realized he was looking at an incredibly lifelike statue. ¡°Ochari musen! Ochari musen! Istan hola eral!¡± A voice yelled behind him. Simon froze in place. Slowly, realization dawned on him. In all of the possibilities he¡¯d considered of where he might land, on top of some unfortunate soul was one he had discarded as highly unlikely almost immediately. The Impact Counter had reduced the poor thing to mush, but judging by the shield and the pole with a sharp blade attached to one end lying next to him, he figured it might be a soldier of sorts. The panicked voice behind him continued in its unintelligible tongue, and he slowly raised his hands over his head as he got up to his knees. As far as Simon could see, this was definitely bad. He did not know how far the voice behind him was, but judged it to be a few meters at most. He was kneeling in the moonlight, with the closest shadow under the roof over the statue in front of him. From what he could tell, he had a few options, and little time to act on one. While he stalled by slowly getting up with his hands raised, he thought of what to do. Communicating seemed right out. He did not understand what the voice was saying, and tempting the panicked man into a game of charades seemed unlikely. A fight was possible. His dagger was still at his waist, and if his Dagger Mastery would be of any help it might offer a way out. But if the voice was another armed soldier holding a glaive, he did not like his odds considering he hadn¡¯t actually fought with the dagger yet. Fleeing seemed like the way to go. If he could get among the trees he saw towering over the walls of the little square, he would be gone in a flash. However, he would likely be a wanted man. Someone covered in blood and dressed in all-black was easily recognizable as a murderer, he figured. Damn it! Simon made his decision. He leapt for the statue, aiming for the shadow so he could Blink towards the equally shadowy wall on his left and climb over it. The plan was foiled immediately as his slick sole slipped out from underneath him and he nearly fell back on his face, barely catching himself. The voice behind him acted on his escape attempt, and a sharp blade appeared over his right shoulder, firmly pressed against his neck. Simon froze. The voice spat some more gibberish at him, the panic in it having made way for resolve. A hand reached around him, feeling for the clasp on his belt, and taking it off him. ¡°I¡¯m not your enemy. This is all just a mistake.¡± Simon spoke in the hopes that his language was known to his captor. Slowly, his captor turned around Simon, his blade constantly poised to strike. When the young man came in sight, Simon was relieved to confirm that he was at least somewhat human. He¡¯d hoped as much after seeing the statue, but it was nice to have some definitive proof. However, there were two things that were very different from where he came from. The man in front of him was about as tall as the Whisper, with curly blonde hair and a sharp nose. He might be considered handsome back on Earth, if not for the second pair of arms growing out from behind the first pair. His right pair of arms firmly held the glaive in place, while his left held a kite shield and Simon¡¯s belt. Now that Simon took a better look at the statue behind the weird hexa-human, he noticed that her rear pair was clasped behind her, with the front pair resting on her left hip and holding out a hand in a gesture of aid. Good thing I didn¡¯t try to fight. No way I could fight four fucking arms. He reminded Simon of a Roman soldier, but in a blue and brown outfit of sandals, skirt and cuirass with a shirt underneath. The soldier gestured Simon to get up with his glaive, and Simon did. Then, Simon was pointed in the direction of a gate, so he turned around, and started walking down the white flagstone road into the forest.