《Progenitors: Isles of Genesis》


 An Unexpected Awakening

    Morgan woke naked, sputtering a mouthful of sand and sea water as he tried to get his bearings. The last thing he recalled was collapsing into bed, which wasn''t particularly congruent with the beach he was currently coming to grips with. Groaning from a mounting headache he took to his age old strategy of muttering to himself.


    ¡°Alright-naked and afraid on a strange beach, yeah this is fine. Fine-fine-fine, don¡¯t panic-big bold, friendly letters we can do this.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t particularly prone to panic, so while he wasn''t hyperventilating he could feel his heart pounding like a very enthusiastic drummer had taken up residence in his chest. Focusing on some old breathing exercises he''d picked up in an online employment assistance program of all places, Morgan trudged out of the knee deep surf, renewing his efforts in figuring out exactly where he was. It wasn''t very effective. Granted, that was in large part due to him being half-blind without glasses but he did notice a few details. First of all the beach he was on was beautiful, with glittering golden sand and the shimmering surf fell into a rich blue ocean that sparkled under the mid-day sun. The only flaw to mar the view was the vast storm that blackening the horizon, lit only by flares of lightning the produced a distant drone of rolling thunder. Morgan unconsciously gulped as he mouth went dry and croaked out


    ¡°Yeah that not ominous at all¡±


    Looking back inland he tried to get a lay of the land, he didn''t know if that storm was heading his way, but he did not want to be out in the open in low ground if it did. The few things he picked up from his initial scan was that the flora of the forest looked Mediterranean, where it met the edge of the beach were shrubs and bushes that transitioned into loosely packed trees. In the distance behind the forest were large hills, mountains and much to his chagrin, an active volcano releasing faint plooms of black smoke in this distance behind the forest.


    ¡°and isn''t that just bloody peachy¡± Morgan mumbled to himself. Escape inland would be of limited help, because if his guess from what he could see was right he was on an island- a large island yes, but an island with an active volcano nonetheless. Unless there was a hidden landbridge on the other side somewhere, he was well and truly trapped.


    It occurred to Morgan that it was in a particularly perplexing pickle of a situation. On top of that he was on a Mediterranean island despite the fact that last he checked, he was from Australia and unless someone had drugged him and thrown him on a plane to get him here, then the list of plausible explanations for why he was here was getting smaller by the minute. Morgan squinted into the line of trees. They were not particularly dense which would hopefully make them easier to navigate, but if there was anyone else who had been taken here as well he felt his best chance to meet them was to walk the beech line. Making up his mind, Morgan swivelled away from the forest and circling his arm as if still deciding which way to go, he finally settled on the left. It ended with a white rocky cliff and with any luck he could find some shelter there. Morgan took a deep breath and with nothing else too it began his journey across the glittering sand. With more than a bit of hope Morgan thought to himself, he would find people and looking down he cringed inwardly. Hopefully they would have spare clothes with them too.


    Morgan was making good time as his feet slapped through the cool surf. He had shifted back to the edge of the water after a while as the hot sand was growing uncomfortable on his feet. That did nothing for the rest of him however. He could feel the sun searing his back and given his pale complexion he was already starting to resemble a cooked lobster. Though the sun was still high in the sky he could tell he''d been walking, his legs developing a small burning ache that promised to hurt even more the moment he stopped. Luckily he had recently started to get at least a little fit as he''d been working as a labourer at a construction company, he''d always figured he''d end up in an office job with the godsend that is air conditioning. So while the experience was steadily transforming from a pleasant stroll on the beach to a massive pain in the rear, it was far from his limits.


    Finally reaching the rocky outcropping he ran the final stretch and collapsed in the cool shade. The beginnings of an early afternoon sun were showing as Morgan gulped down deep lungfuls for air. Between breaths Morgan blustered


    ¡°Yeah, I really¡­should not¡­ not have run¡±


    Disrupting the rhythm he had falling into while walking, Morgan found himself beginning to crash. He had shade and soft green grass, despite the sun burns that stung his whole body, the ache in his muscles and the jackhammer that had apparently taken up residence in his skull, he felt his eyelids getting heavy. He didn''t know if he could actually get a nap in, especially since he felt his stomach protesting the lack of food-but he was in no state to do much of anything at that moment. So lacking anything better he closed his eyes and hoped he could at least take the edge off of things.


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    In lue of sleep Morgan found himself stuck in thought. Even though it felt like a leap in logic Morgan had a growing suspicion that he wasn''t even on Earth any more. It felt ridiculous even as he considered it but there was something he couldn¡¯t quite place about where he was that felt different. It was in the quiet moment between breaths where he felt like he was vibrating with potential that was just out of reach. The sensation passed as quickly as it came and passed from his thoughts as his mind turned to other concerns. Like how in hell was he going to get back? It wasn''t as if he was really missing much though.He had spent the majority of his 20s unemployed, playing video games and reading books. The only exception was the time he spent in university studying architecture. He had never found work in the field due to falling into a depression and his complete lack of talent when it came to networking. The lack of work and social isolation only drove him deeper into himself. As the years ticked on the few skills he had left were rusted and forgotten, which only made matters worse. Over time what little motivation was eaten away by drudgery. In all that time he''d only had 3 jobs, the first was door to door sales where he ended up with less money than when he''d started. The second job was seasonal and inevitably ended and the last¡­ He felt anxiety welling in his chest just thinking about it. Now he was 32, the labourer work he''d end up being thrust into out of desperation was going on for about a year and a half. It was the longest he''d ever worked a single job. For all that he loathed his life and himself for how he''d made it, he did still have some friends and family. Though maybe they''re better off and this is best for everyone he thought. Maybe it would be a relief that I was gone, always being looked after and looked out for-they¡¯re happy this way. As Morgan''s thoughts began to spiral he felt a rush of wind and the distinct feeling of something narrowly missing his face. Jolting up in startlement and a string of expletives, Morgan looked around wildly, a fresh dose of adrenaline filling his aching legs as he scrambled to his feet. Just ahead of him, perched atop a lone olive tree atop the rocky outcropping was a little owl with fluffy grey and dark brown feathers. A little owl that was staring right at him. It might have been intimidating if it weren''t so adorable.


    ¡°Hey there little fella how are you on this fine afternoon?¡± Morgan cooed. The little obviously didn''t respond, its piercing eyes bored into him with an almost assessing quality and seemed to have uncanny cunning within them. Stranger still was that despite the distance he could see the owl with perfect clarity, in spite of the distance and horrid capacity for sight his mole eyes seemed to have. The little owl was still staring at him, cocking its head to the side expectantly as a sea breeze rustled its feathers. As he was working through his puzzlement he noticed something odd. There was a strange protrusion behind the olive tree where the owl was perched. It had stood out to him as even though he couldn''t make out details it didn''t entirely fit with the natural shapes around it. Slowly, as not to disturb his new friend-Morgan crept around the rocky formation to get a better look, the owl''s head following him all the way around as its body remained motionless. His eyes widened as he rounded the bend. Following the protrusion, which now that he could see it clearly was the mast of a ship that lay crashed upon the shore. He guessed they must have been aiming for the clear beach but didn''t quite make it as the rest of the coast he could see was a steadily climbing sheer white cliff, girded by jagged reefs and rocky shoals. The ship itself was strange as well. It had a design not so dissimilar to one of the Ancient Greek triremes but seemed more advanced, with larger and more numerous sails and lacking the gaps that would support a large group of oars.


    "Mediterranean island with a weird Ancient Greek ship¡± he mused to himself.


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to sense a theme here¡±


    Looking over it he couldn''t see much rot or wear that would happen with time, so he guessed it must have happened quite recently. Hoping there would be supplies in there Morgan started to work up the courage to explore.


    ¡°Alright let''s go through this. I don''t see any bodies so they likely took any food and easy to carry supplies with them. Up side could be friends¡±


    Morgan furrowed his eyebrows as he frowned.


    ¡°Or more than likely not friends, stranger danger and all that¡±.


    He looked intently at the ship with a spark of hope in his eyes as he glanced back down at his naked, burnt and sand-caked body.


    ¡°But they may have left clothes and hopefully, shoes¡±


    He wasn''t particularly optimistic about the shoes though, as his feet were on the larger side of average so he felt his chances were slim. Morgan took one last look at the little owl still watching him.


    ¡°Wish me luck my fine, feathery friend!¡± He called out.


    ¡°And even if it wasn''t intentional, thank you for pointing out this ship¡±.


    The little owl bobbed its head, which drew out a croaking chuckle from his dry throat. He was starting to suspect there was more to that owl, but even though his day had been rather strange he wasn''t quite ready yet to embrace all of his superstitions. Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts he focused on the task ahead and began to clumsily clammer over wicked rocks and sharp stones, small foaming waves crashing against his legs the whole way.

 Concerning Shipwreck

    It was surprisingly exhausting work Morgan thought to himself letting out a sharp breath as he nearly slipped off one of the jagged rocks he had been balancing on. He had started off fairly well, having both the rocks beneath him and the small cliff face to steady himself. As he continued though he inevitably had to move further out. Morgan squinted with a tight lipped frown towards the vessel, trying to keep the stinging water from his eyes and mouth as seawater dribbled down from his drenched beard. Luckily his thinning, receding hair didn''t catch much of the water, he thought with an utter lack of sincerity as his frown deepened slightly. The wrecked ship that had seemed so close before now felt as if each step forward stretched out like a mile. It was also an odd wreck he noticed now he was closer. It hadn''t broken in half when it was smashed against the rocks and now he could see behind it, he noticed a line of rocks behind it that had crumbled to pieces. While Morgan wasn''t an expert in physics, he was still fairly certain that had the ship really smashed forwards with enough force to pulverise rock it should have been in a far worse condition. A wave crashed into his side, interrupting his thoughts. Cursing his lack of attention as his feet slipped, he felt a powerful force start to drag him away as he lost his balance and the water withdrew.


    ¡°OH FU-SH-CRaaawwwpll¡± Morgan found himself being dragged uncontrollably through the rocks. He managed to shield his head from smashing into a nearby rock, an impact that he felt in his bones as his forearms took the hit and lit up with a pain he felt through to his gut that made him feel sick. As his arms and legs flailed around like panicking worms in the rain, he managed to catch himself on one of the larger rocks. Not wasting the chance he desperately clung to it with all of his strength. However the pain in his body was only growing from the accumulated bruises and cuts across his whole body, piling onto the pounding pain in his arms and salt water searing his lungs. Morgan felt his vision dimming, growing lightheaded as unconsciousness beckoned. Though he had and well, was struggling with depression, he didn''t want to die, not truely. At times he certainly felt like he didn''t want to be himself, he didn''t want to exist anymore and at times death seemed like a way of achieving it. He didn''t want to die, he wanted to be better and stronger and smarter but he always felt so exhausted on the journey there that the destination felt impossible. Perhaps on another day he may have simply let go, but today had been a strange day full of new experiences and even though it was difficult Morgan knew he had a bit of fight in him yet. As the thoughts resolved themselves in his head he felt almost by instinct to reach inside of himself, although it was a completely new experience it felt almost as natural as breathing. There he found what seemed to him a small, yet mighty and precious well of strength.


    Although it had felt longer, only the bearest of moments had passed, as if time has been stretched thin for him at that moment. Willing the strength he felt into him, a warm rush spread out from his heart and through his body. The pain of his injuries seemed insignificant, they hadn''t healed, they still hurt like hell-but in that moment he was stronger than the pain. Pulling with all his might Morgan dragged himself up the side of the rock. Only when he had pulled himself fully to the top did he break into uncomfortable coughing and spluttering as he choked out the last of the salt water. As he laid there the strength that had come to him faded and the burning in his nostrils and throat were joined by the rest of the injuries on his battered body. The last of that power left his body and while he could still feel that strength inside him, it seemed lesser to him now, diminished. It was a feeling he felt echoed in his mind as the pain he had conquered returned with a vengeance and he felt small and helpless at its onslaught.


    Morgan laid on the rock holding back whimpers of pain as he groaned, breathing in uneven and ragged breaths. The waves still crashed against him and it took some time for Morgan to muster the courage to move again. Looking up around, Morgan took the first genuine sigh of relief in ages.


    ¡°As much as that was a horrible experience I never wish to repeat¡­¡± Morgan glanced up as he croaked


    ¡°At least it brought me closer to the ship¡±


    Keeping a low profile on the rock for balance, Morgan scanned his eyes across the ship''s hull, looking for a way up. Thankfully he thought to himself, my eyesight isn''t so bad when what I''m looking for is large and right in front of me. It wasn''t a particularly high bar to meet, but he was glad he met it all the same. Nearby, he spied a small rope ladder which considering the conditions was suspiciously intact. Carefully, he slipped down onto a smaller rock and stepped across another couple which he definitely didn''t slip on, he was close enough that he managed to grab the rope before he fell into the water again. Instantly, his palms burned with pain. The cuts and scrapes they''d suffered protested against the rope and brine as he heaved himself up. Adrenaline, while not on the level of whatever mystical spirit juju he''d tapped into before, was still a hell of a drug. Bar by bar, Morgan dragged himself up out of the rocks and wave, until finally he heaved himself onto the boat and collapsed on his back. Heaving in a few deep breaths he felt almost euphoric from the effort and let out a triumphant whoop.


    ¡°I DON''T KNOW IF ANYONE IS LISTENING, BUT IF THEY ARE I''M ON A BOAT!¡±


    Maybe it was the hunger and dehydration setting in but he wasn''t quite sure where he was going with that one. A manic giggle escaped his lips as he tried to right himself, using his relatively undamaged right knuckles to balance himself as he drew himself from the ground.


    ¡°Urrgh my back, why is it always the back¡± Morgan croaked as he tried to soothe his back to no avail. Bleary eyed from the pain which he was only starting to get used to he checked himself over for any serious injuries. From head to toe he found himself covered in cuts, scrapes and a growing number of bruises. Luckily the few gashes he did were relatively minor, none having hit anything serious like an artery. He did note that unless he could find something to help soon, the high risk of infection would mean it was all likely to get much, much worse. Morgan shook his head as he forced himself not to think about it, shifting his mind to the contents of the ship before his anxieties got the better of him.


    Looking around Morgan took note of a few points of interest. First was the cabin he saw to the top and back of the ship. If there was anything particularly valuable here it would likely be there. The second was a hatch below deck which he hoped hadn''t been completely cleaned out for supplies, even if the stored food had gone bad there should at least be a few tools there. Lastly and the point he felt equal parts relief, bitterness and stupid for was a series of large rocks on the other side of the ship which while still treacherous, formed a far safer path back than the one he''d taken to the ship. Grumbling under his breath he turned to the back of the ship, his battered feet stinging with each step. The ship started groaning as he approached the cabin door and built to an unpleasant and reproachful crescendo that culminated as he tried to tug and then push it open. He had already started moving more carefully, fearing the otherwise very solid looking ship would give way under him. That feeling was soon overcome by a sense of trespass that pervaded him. He tried to rationalise it away but as hard as he tried he couldn''t quite shake the feeling, nor the sense that he was being watched. Morgan took a few steady steps back from the cabin and the growing anxiety that dominated his thoughts eased into a subtle tension in his muscles. It had felt suspiciously like a large growling guard dog, teeth bared and hackles up had just plopped itself back down and was now giving him the ¡°Don¡¯t try anything pal I''m watching ya¡± look. Trying to calm his nerves Morgan looked to see if his little owl friend was still there and sure enough he could see it still perched on the olive tree. Still with perfect clarity despite being even further away.


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    ¡°Okay, funky owl friend was not a calming influence, I should jus-¡± he voice stuttered to a stop as the hatch to the lower deck opened on its own and he took a reflective step back, only for the ship to groan at him until he took a step forward. He could see directly down into the darkness and there was no one who could have opened it. Down below a couple of wall lanterns lit on their own, their light far too steady for flames revealed a couple of inches of murky water as their light refracted along the surface. Morgan had been flatly rejecting it every time his mind mentioned the idea that what he was seeing was magic. The sceptical, scientific and rational part of his mind insisting on a mundane explanation was hanging on by a thread.


    ¡°This is probably just a big prank right? I mean it couldn''t be a magic boat, it''s probably just some ill-timed wind or some movement of the waves.¡±


    He heard another groan and this time he could feel it in the wood as it subtly shuddered in a swirling pattern around him before shifting down the hatch and causing faint ripples in the water below. He felt a strange mix of outrage and impatience. Morgan quickly thought over what he could have done wrong when his mind latched onto a piece of seaman etiquette he''d picked up from his dad from one of the few holidays they''d spent together.


    ¡°Ship! Sorry magic-ship I meant to say you''re a magnificent magic ship¡± Morgan quickly blurted out his correction, stumbling over only a couple of words. Another creaking groan, softer this time had swirled around him in a much gentler fashion, though still beckoning him to the hatch. He''d received a feeling of calm pride and acceptance this time and the last vestiges duct tape and bubblegum holding his world-view together lost the fight as he decided he was going to have a conversation with a ship. Gathering his wits Morgan asked in what he thought was a conversation tone


    ¡°So, uh, look I know you want me to go down that hatch but I gotta ask is it safe?¡±


    The ship replied with a feeling of reassurance and warmth that he felt reverberating to his core. He got the impression it was an honest ship somehow, so he couldn''t help but ask


    ¡°So I don''t mean anything by this, ah-what I mean is that I don''t mean to offend you but are you perchance a ghost ship?¡±


    There was a long pause where nothing happened, he was starting to fear for the worst when a chilling breeze enveloped him and the groaning of the ship shifted into a higher pitch.


    ¡°OoooooOoOooooooooOooOooo¡±


    The wooden imitation of the classical ghostly sound, which honestly could have been spooky if it were not undercut but the clear sensations of mocking whimsy and joy as the creaking slowly shifted into a strange clackering and clicking sound that Morgan soon realised was laughter. Of all the things it could have done to disarm him, he had to admit that was pretty effective. He snorted a short laugh as the first genuine smile in a long while, from before all the strangeness had even started crept across his lips and crinkled the corner of his eyes.


    Morgan tried to scowl but ultimately couldn¡¯t hold the laughter building in his chest.


    ¡°Alright, laugh it up you overgrown bucket I''m going in¡± the mirth in his voice overriding any edge his words might have otherwise had. His laughter teetered off as he entered the bowels of the ship. Morgan was rather good at taking things in stride. Well a big part of that was a lack of anything worthwhile and meaningful in his life that such strangeness could seriously threaten, but still. The cool water wasn''t particularly deep and more of the strange lanterns lit up to guide him. He still couldn''t quite shake his nerves however, as he crept through the water. The lights lead him around the back of the hatches stairway. One of the lights ahead lit up from within a large and he carefully made his way in, sliding each foot to make sure they didn''t see something spikey he couldn''t see, the cuts and scrapes on his legs were already stinging from the briny water and he wasn''t eager to add any more injuries to the list. He was lucky he did as he felt the solid wood beneath his right foot suddenly slip away.


    Morgan''s heart felt like it did a flip in his chest as he shot back to the inner hull of the ship, letting out a long string of particularly impolite language that would have done any sailor proud, had one been present. Breathlessly Morgan addressed the ship.


    ¡°Could you please warn me if there are any other dangers here before I step in them?¡±


    He tried to keep the edge from his voice but the constant pain from all the battery he''d sustained along with the sun burns and exhaustion were stretching the limits of his control. A softer, apologetic grinding shifting through the ship as lights began to shine in the deep. Shifting past the drop, the lights within it revealed a completely flooded lower deck. Within he saw a number of fish swimming about and at least one crab. But the most surprising thing was that aside from barnacles, there was a large mass of colourful coral lining the base of the ship. A dawning realisation hit Morgan as he reevaluated the age of the ship.


    ¡°Sorry for the attitude before¡­ mate, I''ve had a bit of a rough day¡± It always sounded a little forced he thought when he spoke even remotely like a normal Aussie. He''d been drilled on ¡°proper speech¡± when he was young and with an interest in fantasy literature and a number of other nerdy things, his normal mode of speech often sounded a little strange. Carefully making his way into what he now recognised as a cargo hold, he spoke with the ship again.


    ¡°Hey, uhh, Ship, how long have you been here and where is your crew?¡±


    Morgan had a good idea about what the answer would be to his question and he felt his heart drop and shoulders sag when he received impressions of sorrow and loss. The lights around him subtly started shifting and a vague distorted image played across the surface of the water. He saw a swirling storm full of monsters, he saw the sailors holding fast and brave. They were making it through the storm and were almost out the other side when a colossal scaled mass rose from the depths and clipped the back of the ship.The force of the collision propelled the ship forward breakneck speeds. The captain and ship tried to change course but they were moving too fast, already too close to avert disaster. Though he couldn''t hear the crash he felt it as his heart skipped a beat and his whole body tensed up, bringing with it a fresh spike of pain from his injuries. As the shimmer light faded from the water he saw for the first time real damage on the ship. The wooden panels on the rear of the ship splintered in places, but worse was how they had warped; planks of wood bent inwards as if a giant fist had smacked the back of them, bending slightly inwards-more like metal than wood. He stood there with the ship for what felt like a long few minutes in silence with the ship, nothing but the sloshing of water from within the hold, the muffled whistling of wind and crashing of waves filling the gap. In spite of the chaos of the sea, the ship itself didn''t make so much as a squeak, whether through some passive strength it possessed or an act of stubborn rebellion against the sea, the elements outside were not enough to move the ship event he barest fraction of an inch.


    In the muted hold, Morgan stood, the dripping of water all around him and for a brief moment - it sounded like tears.

 Friend-Ship

    The silence slowly went from sombre respect to being kind of awkward. Sensing that the ship''s past crew and current predicament were a soft point Morgan tried to shift the conversation.


    ¡°Hey ahh, Ship. I''ve kinda been thinking of you as an it this whole time, which is starting to feel a little rude, with you being sentient and all.¡±


    The creaking clicks that he recognized as the ship''s laughter echoed around him. It was softer than before, it felt like a slight chuckle people sometimes make to ease built-up tension, even if what was said wasn''t particularly funny. Morgan felt a slight smile touch his lips as well, he wasn''t super in touch with the cultural trend of asking for people''s pronouns, especially since he''d lost touch with many of his old friends. The people he worked with as a construction labourer certainly didn''t help the matter either. Still being a ship he didn''t really have much to go on.


    ¡°So people in my culture have a tendency to refer to a ship, well all ships- but we uh, we tend to refer to them like women. That feels slightly better than calling you an it, is that alright with you or do you have another preference?¡±


    He stuttered a little bit and his voice squeaked in a way he found deeply embarrassing. He found himself cursing his lacklustre social skills as a slight blush hit his cheeks over talking to a bloody ship of all things. There was a short pause and he could feel that the Ship was considering the question, which apparently it hadn''t been asked before. A kind of warbling creak that almost sounded like a ¡°hmmmm¡± before a small rumble shuddered up and down the ship.


    ¡°Did¡­ did you just shrug?¡±


    The ship did it again, although this time accompanied by its clicking laughter. Though the reply was mainly a sense of light mirth, he felt it accompanied by a sense of affirmation. Okay well she it is then he thought. One of the lanterns'' lights started to glow brighter than the others. Recognising it as a signal from her, Morgan made his way over to inspect the area. Much of the cargo hold was empty, the few remaining crates pried open and empty, the jugs, pots and amphoras mostly broken. But underneath the light he saw one crate that was still completely sealed. With excitement building he couldn''t help grinning as he rung his hands while doing small hops on the balls of his feet. He stopped when he felt his junk bouncing around though. For some reason thinking of the sentient ship as female had made the keen reminder of his nakedness bring a fresh flush to his cheeks. Morgan cleared his throat a couple of time and gulped, trying to clear his dry throat.


    ¡°Alright lass is this one for me? Can I open it?¡± A note of ascent rose from the ship and he eagerly began prying the lid open. Without a crowbar it took him a couple of tries, but on his last attempt after getting into a decent position and small shudder came from the ship and vibrated through the crate as the lid came off with a ¡°thhwwoopp¡±.


    Catching himself quickly, taking care not to step on any broken shards of pottery as he righted himself, Morgan took his first look into his loot crate. There wasn''t a magic sword in there, there was however something else which was arguably of far greater value to him at the moment. Fresh. Food. Morgan didn''t know how the bundles of it were fresh and at this point with all the other weird juju he didn''t really care. He grabbed a loaf of bread from the top and immediately began greedily scarfing it down. A satisfied grumble came from the ship as he couldn''t help moaning in delight from the food. The contents of the crate were sorted into two sacks, as well as a few loose items. Chief among them were what he recognised from some RPGs he''d played to be water skins. There were six large water skins in total. Four of them were dark grey and the last two were a dark, rosey red. Taking one of the grey ones he opened it up and to his relief found them filled with water. He took a grateful sip of it, though he did indulge a little he refrained from drinking too much, afterall he didn''t know when he would get more. The red ones, much to his delight, had the rich, fruity scent of wine. Savouring the rich scent, Morgan reluctantly resealed the skin. Those he thought to himself, he will save for later. Opening up the second sack he found it filled with a number of fruit that Morgan later recognised as a kind of pomegranate. After he gathered up the supplies, splitting the water skins and wine between the two sacks Morgan decided he would see if he could solve another issue while he was here.


    ¡°Hey lass¡± he called to the ship.


    ¡°I can''t thank you enough for the food and water, you may well have just saved my hide here¡± he said, gesturing with the sacks for emphasis. A groan shuddered past him, leaving a sense of pride and pleasure in its wake. He almost bit down his next question, but he had to ask.


    ¡°So I was wondering by any chance¡­ would you have any spare clothes?¡±


    There was a long pause before she spoke again. Even though she wasn''t making sounds to convey her thoughts, somehow he still got an impression from her. It was a complex thing, a mix of emotions that blurred together. The only clear thing he picked up was that she was conflicted about something. Finally she spoke, a complex series of grating groans, clicking, popping and plopping from the water that had flooded in. He didn''t feel any impulse directed at him though, only the vague sense of concentration. Morgan listened intently to the strange sounds and slowly, they resolved into words.


    ¡°PRrWwwOMmiisse¡± The sounds resolved themselves with an impression of trust and uncertainty.


    ¡°Promise? You want me to promise something?¡±


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    A note of agreement passed through him.


    ¡°Sure, you''ve been nothing but help so what would you like me to promise?¡±


    Morgan received a series of emotions wrapped up in consecutive cacophonous noises as the ship attempted to convey feelings. A sense of deep belonging hit him first, it was tinged with hints of something sentimental or possibly sacred. Next was a desire to protect, followed by a desire to help and a sense that the two conflicted. Morgan mulled the sensations over in the silence that followed, there was something familiar about the sensations. That was when it hit him. The captain''s cabin. The only time he''d sensed that protectiveness was when he approached it. With the dawning realisation he spoke.


    ¡°You want to help me, but in order to do that you need to let me into the captain''s cabin, that''s where the clothes are, aren''t they?¡±


    She grumbled her confirmation.


    ¡°And you need me to promise not to take anything more than what is offered?¡±


    Another chime of approval came from her. Well that was easy enough, Morgan thought, he was growing to like this ship anyway and had no desire to betray her trust.


    ¡°Alright well if that''s all you need I''m happy to give it. I promise you I won''t take any more from you than is offered.¡±


    There was a short pause and the impression of approval never came. I thought over his words, trying to find an unintended loophole that she might have picked up on, but he thought the promise was pretty air tight.


    ¡°It''s okay if you don''t want to, you''ve done so much for me already. If my assurance isn''t enough for you I understand, we''re still basically strangers¡±.


    Finally, she replied-a frustrated creak echoing around him. Thinking for a moment Morgan pressed.


    ¡°Is there anything I could do to persuade you then?¡±


    He heard a clicking, like the tapping of a foot as the ship thought. After a moment he got a number of impressions. Unlike his previous method of creaky communication, these had pressed directly into his mind and not the slightest peep or squeak was needed.


    ¡°Warn this hurt. Trust me¡±


    He got the message loud and clear as his headache, which had subsided somewhat with a drink of water, suddenly flared up again. Wincing at the pain Morgan nodded his head mumbling his consent. He didn''t know if it was the strange honesty he felt from the ship that made him trust it, or if he just really, really wanted some pants but had agreed and so he started to brace himself for whatever was coming. There was a short calm before the storm and then it hit him. He knew the power the moment it hit him, it was the same thing he''d used to push himself up onto the rock and pull himself onto the ship''s deck.


    Will. He still didn''t know exactly what it was but that was the best word he could find to describe it. To call his Will and the Will of the ship the same however would be laughable. If his was a pool, then hers was a deep lake. It was a lake that had suffered a long drought, slowly depleting year after year with no reprieve. But it was more than merely a greater reserve as her Will had a strength and certainty to it, an integrity that his Will simply lacked. It felt like a giant had gently rested their hand on his shoulder, it wasn''t aggressive but there was a clear display of strength that told him that if she wanted to,she could squash him like a bug.


    Gradually and tenderly, he felt her Will withdraw and he knew what he had to do. It was to some degree, the same thing she was doing every time she ¡®spoke¡¯. Using what he remembered from when she had pressed her Will against him, he gained a better idea of where that power was inside him. He honed in on it, pulling it forth and focusing on his words and intent.


    ¡°I promise you, I will take nothing more from you than what you offer.¡±


    As the words left his mouth he felt another chunk of his Will exhaust itself as a weight settled on his chest. Morgan still didn''t entirely understand what he''d done, but he knew that breaking his oath would come with some very painful consequences. After that she went back to her usual method of communication, with a thankful, conciliatory groan. It wasn''t as clear as when she spoke more directly, but at least he didn''t feel like someone had started playing pinball with his head. Rising out from the bowels of the ship, Morgan stopped at the top of the hatch, smiling as he swiped some of the grime away to reveal a lightly scuffed, but otherwise untarnished deck. Standing up, Morgan huffed a laugh, almost facepalming as he realised he''d forgotten some important.


    ¡°I just realised I never did any properly introduced myself, or asked your name.¡±


    Morgan took a couple of steps forward and steadily made his way up the stairs, intricate carvings on the wooden handrails still slightly visible beneath the salty debris.


    ¡°My name is Morgan Harris, I''m from Australia and it is my pleasure to meet you.¡±


    Hopping his way over the last couple of steps, cleaning off some of the wooden railing as he went, the muck sliding cleanly off with ease. Approaching the door between him and some long awaiting clothes and tried to give the ship his warmest smile.


    ¡°May I ask your name?¡±


    There was a long pause where Morgan could have sworn the ship was holding back just to keep him in suspense. Then he heard the door crack open in front of him, revealing the warm light of the cabin. His eyes went wide as he took it all in. Aside from a small area at the back that was splintered and warped, the whole cabin was clean and intact. A lush and plump bed with soft grey-blue sheets that he longed to collapse into laid there; the rest of the cabin had fine, polished wooden and marble furniture artfully arranged around it.


    ¡°Gods it even has a bathroom!¡± Morgan couldn''t help but gasp as his jaw dropped.


    ¡°And is that indoor plumbing?!¡±


    Morgan was trying to figure out the logistics of that anachronistic bit of design as it tickled the little archetect in him from his Uni days. Morgan quickly found himself losing that line of thought as his jaw dropped for the second time. Intricate carvings inlaid with glittering golden thread swirled around the cabins domed ceiling. Each carving came together to depict countless journeys and all manner of outlandish adventures. Reliefs of deadly battles with sea monsters of all shapes and sizes, encounters with sirens, harpies dragons, man eating giants and a beautiful witch surrounded by pigs. Some of them were stories he recognised but many were ones he''d never heard of. But for every triumph he saw, there were countless tragedies too. Time after time the Ship had been destroyed. Time and time again she had been rebuilt, stronger then before. As Morgan''s eyes traced the golden threads to their centre, he felt a rumble from the ship, pride already beaming from he as the sounds settled into words. He had a pretty good idea of what that would be, as his eyes settled on the golden rams head at the centre of the domed ceiling, golden fleece stretching out to fill in the surrounding legends. He felt the name on his lips as creaking, groaning, clickering, clackering noise finally built to a peak.


    ¡°ARGO¡±

 Dressing for Success

    ¡°Argo? The Argo!?¡± Though Morgan wasn''t as hyped about it as he made himself out to be, he thought Argo would appreciate the recognition. He liked Greek myth due to a period of intense interest in it in his early teens, but as he got older he found it harder to feel strongly about anything. Regardless, it got the reaction he wanted as he felt Argo chime with pride, like a pony, prancing before an adoring audience. Unlike outside however, there was no groaning and creaking of wood. Instead the golden fleece shimmered slightly as it was plucked. The sounds of taught strings harmonized and conducted Argo¡¯s feelings with its music.


    ¡°I''m sure you get this from all your captain''s, but your voice is beautiful¡± in reply he received a tune of mocking reproach and he could almost imagine her saying:


    ¡°and my outside voice isn''t?¡±


    Morgan snorted as he started to settle into the cabin. A weariness came over him as his good humour slowly drained away. He just wanted to hide away in here, avoid all the troubles of the world for as long as he could. It was such a cosy space¡­ But he''d done that for too long already, spent most of his life doing that. Argo must have sensed the shift in mood as the music chimed to him again, this time in a low and constant melody of comfort.


    Morgan dried and cleaned himself off with a towel he found in the cabin''s bathroom, complete with toilet and a hybrid shower and bath. It was another of the strange anachronisms in the ship he had no way to explain, but he supposed a magic ship didn''t owe him an explanation on how exactly it managed indoor plumbing. The towel itself was not what he was used to, more like a towel shaped curtain in texture though he wasn''t about to complain. Finally dry, Morgan heard a click and a long last, set his eyes upon clothes. Glorious, glorious clothes.


    ¡°Argo you beautiful, magnificent dame!¡± Morgan said, only slightly exaggerating the reverent gratitude in his tone. Argo chimed back with glee, garnished with a sense of mock humility. Piece by piece Morgan relished the experience. There was underwear, though it had no elastic with a draw string on the wasteband to hold it instead. He found a light grey tunic to wear hanging up, around the hem and sleeves it had the blue patterns in the style of the linear art often found on ancient Greek pottery. Next was a pair of loose linen trousers, dark blue and plain. Finally a draw opened containing a pair of sandles that went up to just below the knees. Morgan knew they would be too small, but he knew he would likely need shoes given all the injuries he''d already got on his feet he would need them. As Morgan winced from the leather brushing against his wounds he had to blink the blurriness from his eyes, the shoes fit perfectly. Looking them over they surrounded his calves like boots, only opening up around his toes and the front of his foot. Morgan squinted at the sandles and called to Argo


    ¡°Do all the clothes here change size?¡±


    Argo chimed back with a series of impulses that Morgan had interpreted as: ¡°obviously, I''m a magic ship of course my captain''s clothes are magic¡±


    Morgan just shrugged, he trusted Argo not to give him cursed boots that would launch him halfway to the moon the moment he tried to jump or something. With the final touch of a rope belt around his waist and a short grey cloak cinched with a blank silver medallion around his shoulders, Morgan went to inspect himself in the mirror. He was quite glad with the outfit. It had elements of a number of historical garments he knew of, but combined in a way that never would have naturally occurred in history. It gave him a goofy-fun renaissance faire look that he didn''t mind. His own looks he thought left something to be desired. The sun burns-which had already started to peel turned his ordinarily pale face into a blotchy red mess. Not that he had a particularly high opinion of his looks on a good day anyway. He had luckily inherited the ashy-blond hair from his mom''s side along with his older sister. With his full beard and thick eyebrows, what was left of it could probably look fairly nice as well if he took care of it. He didn''t of course; he''d left his hair just a bit too long between visits to the barber and now it had grown just about long enough to be unflattering. Morgan took some time to groom his eyebrows and a futile attempt at fixing his hair which would inevitably look awful after the first stray breeze. His beard which he thought usually looked quite regal now just made him look like he was gearing up for a Castaway remake.


    ¡°I can''t even blame this on being stranded for years,¡± Morgan sighed.


    ¡°I literally just got here.¡±


    Argo tittered and with a grumble Morgan tidied himself up as best he could though the result still made him wince a bit. Morgan heard a rattling over at what looked like an intricately carved writing desk. As he approached one of its draws opened. Inside was not much, some old writing in letters and presumably a language, that Morgan did not understand. What he did recognise was the plain DC Abbottlooking compass and just above it, the fine knife, sheathed above it. Morgan eagerly wanted to pick them both up, though he felt his earlier promise come to mind as a tightness spread through his chest. Argo chimed at him encouragingly.


    ¡°Can I really take these? Morgan said, gesturing two the the knife and compass. Upon Argo''s insistence Morgan gingerly picked up the two items. The compass was a smooth polished bronze, largely plain save for some detailing around the narrow rim. Flicking it open he snorted a laugh as he still didn''t recognise the letters, though he guess if the design was anything like the ones on earth the big fancy letter at the top was north. It didn''t particularly matter though, as the direction hand was spinning around madly. He figured it was the storm - storms could do that right? Benching the question Morgan turned his eyes to the knife. It considered calling it a dagger for the cool factor, though from what little he knew it probably wasn''t long enough to qualify. The sheeth was made of lacquered wood with bronze reinforcements in the shape of waves. The knife had a small bronze pommel and a cloth wrapped grip. When Morgan drew the knife from its sheath he saw the blade, unlike the other metal on the knife was a bluish steel, golden light from the fleece above shimmered like sunlight glinting on waves as it bounced off the damascean blade.


    After he was done profusely thanking Argo for the gifts and taking an embarrassing amount of time figuring out how to secure them on his belt, Morgan started to dawdle around. He didn''t want to leave so he found himself indulging in idle thoughts, as he looked for things to fuss over. Eventually though he found himself just staring off into nowhere, desperately clinging to the isle of safety he found with Argo. He was thankful she had the grace to indulge him. But time wasn''t about to stop its show for his convenience and Argo nudged him with an encouraging chime. Reluctantly Morgan dragged himself back to reality. He blinked rapidly to moisten his eyes which had gone dry from staring. Morgan started on his way to the outside and with each step closer he felt every ache and wound with greater clarity. He knew this at least was no magic, it was the same thing he always felt pushing himself into anything uncomfortable. His mind would think of any reason not to and it shouldn''t or couldn''t go ahead and if it couldn''t find one, it would make one. It was a part of himself he hated, like trying to walk through quicksand it turned an otherwise simple descision into a herculean effort. As Morgan halted by the door staring at the handle to open it. He took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping back into the world outside.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Not wanting to lose his momentum and nerves Morgan made his way to the side of Argo closest to the large series of rocks that formed a steep, but manageable rocky path up to the side of the rocky outcroppings point. He squinted at it, partially from the steadily setting afternoon sun, but also because he was still sour about missing it. Morgan turned back to look at cabin. The habit of looking at someone you''re speaking to had to be repeatedly drilled into him when he was young was something he hadn''t quite figured out how to apply to a ship.


    ¡°Thank you again for all the help Argo, I''m not sure when, but I''ll come back and hopefully I can find a way to get you free as well¡±


    The now familiar creaking of wood and rustling of sails carried a complex mix of joy and caution. There was also a small lilting note of hope, faint and flickering, it was a feeling Morgan was uncomfortably familiar with. Morgan tried to give a reassuring smile, though it felt tight and strained. He would come back, he promised himself. He wasn''t sure how he could help but he was going to be damned sure he did something. With his goodbye said and done, Morgan gathered the two sacks of supplies and slowly, but surely made his way up the rocky slope.


    Morgan was rather proud of himself as he finally lugged the sacks over the last stoney hurdle to the flat grassy plane atop. He''d only nearly slipped to a horrid fate five times during the climb up the slick rocks; aside from a few new scrapes as well as sweat and sea water drenching his brand new clothes he was no worse for wear. Taking in the moment of peace, Morgan sighed as a warm breeze mingled with the afternoon sun. He decided to try and figure out what to do next while he caught his breath under the shade. Morgan groaned as he steadily plopped down beneath the olive tree. Idly, he wondered where the owl had gone, he was a little disappointed to see it go. The leaves of the lonely olive tree shined with an orange glow as the sun steadily set. Morgan peaked out from the shade and saw that same glow paint the ocean better than any artist. Morgan noted it, trying and failing to capture the wonder he was hoping for.


    ¡°Tis a beautiful view, wouldn''t you agree? A feminine lilting voice called to him.


    Morgan let out a very manly squeal of surprise as he nearly rolled down the grassy slope towards the trees. Morgan staggered to his feet, squinting his mole to try and see who spoke. Ahead a woman wearing a blue cloak, trimmed with white and gold stood by the olive tree, her face obscured by a halo of the setting sun. Morgan was left momentarily speechless, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find his words. She stepped out of the sun¡¯s path, picking some olives as she went. She was a tall woman with long, wavy black hair and a light olive complexion. As she finally came to rest fully in the shade of the olive tree, he saw that perhaps her most striking feature were her eyes, he could swear he saw light shimmering in their stormy grey depths. Not wanting to just stand there gaping any more than he already had, Morgan dusted himself as he stuttered out some half formed greetings and remembering she had asked a question, agreeing that it was a very nice view. Based on what he could see of her Morgan guessed she might have been local and a rising sense began to build in his chest.


    ¡°We haven''t met before, my name is Morgan, I''m not from around here and while I hate to admit it, I think I might be little lost¡±


    ¡°I am not surprised, given how you arrived here¡± She said with a subtle smile tugging at her lips.


    ¡°Though you are wrong about one thing, we have met before¡±


    ¡°I don''t know, I don''t think I could forget meeting someone as stunning as you¡± Morgan said with a chuckle. At that her smile widened into a grin that he swore had his heart skipping a beat.


    ¡°I see having clothes has inspired some confidence in you! That is good, you will have need of it in the times to come¡±


    Dawning horror came over Morgan''s face before settling into resigned acceptance.


    ¡°So you saw me naked huh? you have my condolences¡±


    She chuckled, waving at him dismissively.


    ¡°You do yourself a disservice, you are not so bad a sight as you believe¡±


    Morgan couldn''t help but straighten a little at the complement.


    ¡°Well coming from someone that looks like a goddess that''s quite the compliment¡± Morgan said with a lopsided smile.


    ¡°I''m making a bit of a poor habit of this but, I didn''t catch your name?¡±


    Slowly, a mischievous look formed on the woman''s face as she spoke.


    ¡°It is funny to me that you should mention that¡±


    ¡°That I didn''t ask your name?¡± Morgan said slowly, a growing suspicion starting to gnaw at him.


    ¡°That I look like a goddess¡±


    Morgan wasn''t in the habit of assuming every beautiful stranger he met was secretly a goddess, though given his recent encounter with a sentient mythical ship he was starting to reconsider that stance. He had tried to avoid staring at her before, but now he was paying attention, all the details were starting to come together. Her cloak had pulled back slightly as she ate the olives she had picked earlier. Beneath the ultramarine cloak, an intricate golden breastplate gleamed. Two small plates with rich, red tassels covered her shoulders and an armoured skirt in the Roman and Ancient Greek style covered her thighs. Below it, a white dress went down to her ankles, her sandles and the golden gleam of her armour only barely visible. Morgan glimpsed engravings of snakes lining the base of her breastplate, if she really was a god he thought, he had a pretty good guess about which one. His suspicions were all but confirmed as his eyes rested upon the small broach pinning her cloak in place. Upon it, a little owl was had been carefully engraved with intricate detail, detail that his feeble eyes should not have been able to make out, even at this distance.


    ¡°You were the cute little owl!¡± Morgan exclaimed.


    ¡°I prefer dignified and wise little owl, but yes¡±


    ¡°And if my knowledge of myth isn''t completely useless, that would make you the goddess Athena?¡±


    She paused for a moment, mulling over her reply. For a brief moment Morgan thought he might have gotten it wrong and wondered if he''d get smited over what he thought was a pretty damn good guess.


    ¡°, but for now, yes I am a god and my name is Athena. Though perhaps not Athena as you know her.¡±


    Morgan opened his mouth to speak but Athena raised her palm before he could finish.


    ¡°Your curiosity does you credit but I do not have the authority to grant you answers. If you want them you will need to find them yourself.¡±


    Athena demeanour shifted slightly, her serene face taking on a more severe expression.


    ¡°Now that we are introduced, we should move to more pressing issues. The hour grows late and you will need my help if you wish to survive.¡± Athena glanced over to the setting sun as she finished before looking back to Morgan, her eyes containing an intensity that wasn''t entirely natural. Hesitantly, Morgan spoke up carefully considering his words.


    ¡°I¡¯m honoured that you''re offering to help, though I''m not sure what I have done to earn it. What kind of dangers am I going to face?¡±


    ¡°The dangers you will face are too numerous for me to summarise here and my offer of help is not free.¡± Athena replied. Morgan''s mouth went dry again, this time however it had nothing to do with a lack of water. Morgan licked his lips as he tried to glean a bit more of what she wanted before he accepted anything.


    ¡°I''m flattered, really. But I''m not sure what I could do that would be of any value to you.¡±


    A thin smile formed across Athena¡¯s stern face.


    ¡°It is simple, though it will not be easy or safe, Morgan. I have a job for you.¡±

 Patron of Heroes

    ¡°I don''t have my resume with me¡±


    Morgan nearly facepalmed as he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Luckily it went down well, as Athena''s lips almost imperceptibly twitched upwards.


    ¡°I understand this must seem surreal to you, but you would do well to overcome that soon.¡± Morgan straightened up a bit and tried to get himself in the right headspace. He figured he should probably listen to her, being the goddess of wisdom and all. Taking a deep breath Morgan latched onto the familiar. He didn''t know anything about making deals with gods, but he did know job interviews. Granted, his long track record of unemployment wasn''t a ringing endorsement of his skill in that department but still. Clearing his throat Morgan spoke up.


    ¡°I admit I''m interested, but at the risk of looking a gift horse in the mouth, I''d like to know more before I agree to anything¡±


    Athena grinned.


    ¡°A wise course of action, if one has learnt anything from the old epics it is that caution is an oft undervalued virtue¡±


    Athena held up a finger to forestall the half-witted quip about a tragically named condom brand that Morgan was about to blurt out.


    ¡°My offer is this: there is a contest that is taking place on these Isles. In this you will act as my champion. If you do so I will be permitted the right to grant you three boons to aid you.¡±


    ¡°Wha-hmpfhh¡± Athena placed her finger over Morgan''s lips and shushed him with an aura of quiet command that any librarian would envy.


    ¡°Do not interrupt, questions will be at the end Morgan.¡±


    Maybe it was because he had been touched-starved for the better part of a decade or maybe he was just a pervert, but at that touch Morgan felt an embarrassing warmth flush through him as his heart picked up its pace. Trying desperately not to think about how much it turned him on, Morgan nodded numbly for her to continue. If her intention was to get him paying attention, it worked.


    ¡°No, I cannot elaborate more on the contest at this time-there are rules by which I must abide. Yes, there are other contestants and no, you will not be directly competing against all of them.¡±


    Athena finished by describing the boons she would grant if he accepted. The first she described was some kind of spiritual framework to help him channel his Will in certain ways. Apparently it was something everyone in the magical world developed to some extent, from high kings to lowly serfs. The second boon was a potent magical item she called a vestige. It would be unique to him and would likely act as an aide in utilising whatever abilities he got from his first blessing. Lastly, she offered to grant a unique ability of his choice. Morgan couldn''t help the giddy grin on his face. While not as flexible as the old ¡®you get 3 wishes¡¯ scenario he had back when he actually had friends to talk to, this was still pretty cool. He tried to keep a cool head and think about it however. He stilled had a few questions he needed answered. Morgan gradually raised his hand and some of the mirth Athena had when she introduced herself returned. She gestured for him to speak.


    ¡°Just a few quick questions.¡± Morgan said.


    ¡°First, what are the limits on the third boon- I''m guessing I can''t just ask for invincibility or the ability to stop time or something?¡±


    Athena nodded with approval.


    ¡°You can ask for anything, however there is a limit to both how much power I am allowed to invest in you as well as what you could physically and spiritually handle.¡±


    ¡°I figured as much,¡± Morgan replied.


    ¡°Alright second question, the ship Argo, she helped me and I''d like to return the favour-I figure you might have a better grasp on how I could do that?¡±


    Athena grimaced slightly as she glanced at the marooned ship


    ¡°It is good you wish to help, she is a noble spirit who has suffered much. If you truely wish to help, you will need to grow stronger. Accepting my offer would help you on that path.¡±


    Morgan nodded somberly, he had one last question. He felt he already knew the answerx but he had to ask.


    ¡°If I don''t participate, do I get to go back?¡± Morgan said in a low voice, head downcast. A look of pity crossed Athena''s face


    ¡°No, there is no easy way back. Even if you lack the sponsorship of a god, you will still need to progress with the chosen inwards and onwards¡±


    Athena glanced over her shoulder towards the sea.


    ¡°The storm will not remain still forever.¡±


    Morgan shivered. Well that was just bloody brilliant wasn''t it? Morgan couldn''t shake the feeling that he was inadequate, unworthy. On top of that he didn''t understand anything that was going on, he didn''t even know if he could trust this woman, good things didn''t just happen in his life. Beyond what little he assumed from the myths he knew, Morgan didn''t really know who the ¡®Athena¡¯ before him was. Still, she seemed trustworthy and he didn''t have a lot of options, so Morgan finally came to a decision.


    ¡°Alright Athena, I''m in your hands.¡±


    ¡°Good, before we discuss your third boon, I would like to learn more of you to decide how best to shape your first two boons.¡±


    Morgan let some of the tension he''d built up go. He had made a decision and there was no use in second guessing it now.


    ¡°What would you like to know?


    Athena hummed for a moment and spoke.


    ¡°Tell me, what do you wish you could be?¡±


    ¡°Aspire to be?¡± He replied, somewhat stunned.


    ¡°I suppose I originally wanted to be an architect and before that when I was a little kid I wanted to be a space wizard with a laser sword.¡±


    Athena gave him a puzzled look


    ¡°Space wizard?¡±


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Morgan barked out a laugh.


    ¡°Yeah you know, has cool robes, super wise, does magic and has a cool laser sword.¡±


    Athena drummed her index finger against her lips.


    ¡°I could arrange for that, although due to your limitations I could not create the pathways required for martial prowess without taking away from your other talents¡±


    As Morgan listened his eyes went wide and a stupid grin spread across his face.


    ¡°I could do magic!?¡± He exclaimed


    ¡°It would be a difficult path forward-¡± Athena began.


    ¡°I would like to be a wizard. Thank you.¡± Morgan said politely, before meekly apologising as he realised he had interrupted. Athena gave him a very effective look of stern reproach.


    ¡°I will ultimately decide what path I will set you on and the vestige to aid you. However, I will keep your preference in mind.¡±


    Athena sighed, Morgan wondered if she was already regretting her choice.


    ¡°I would know your final boon and remember I cannot advise you on it, that is beyond what I have told you already.¡±


    Morgan could see a keen interest in her eyes and he suddenly had the feeling that there was far more resting on this decision than he knew. Morgan licked his lips nervously.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about that ever since you mentioned it earlier and I think I have an idea or two.¡±


    Morgan''s voice gained in volume and pace as he got into the subject.


    ¡°First I was thinking about some of the obvious ones, all the usual superpowers you see from comic heroes or maybe something you''d wish from a genie. People always talk about how they''d game the rules or something.¡±


    ¡°But instead I''m going to make an assumption.¡± Morgan said as he stopped pacing back and forth. He looked at Athena for any hints but her face was impressively impassive.


    ¡°I''m going to assume the rules made to bind gods are a little too tight for some mortal with a big head to exploit. Off what you''ve told me if I try to push the boundaries too much I''m going to get lumped with some kind of drawback?¡± Morgan looked again, Athena nodded to confirm what she had already told him, but he couldn''t glean anything more. Morgan decided to wrap things up.


    ¡°I''ve been thinking about what I really need and I keep coming back to how lost and confused I am in all this, how new it is.¡±


    Morgan spoke out quickly before he could second guess himself.


    ¡°I think what I need most is guidance and given that you are the goddess of wisdom, that will be my third boon. I ask for wisdom¡±


    ¡°Is that your final answer?¡± Athena said, her face and voice still utterly unreadable.


    Morgan nearly changed his mind when swore he saw a twinkle of excitement breaking through the implacable poker face of the goddess. With trepidation, Morgan nodded.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Her twinkle in her eyes spread across her implacable face suddenly broke into the warmest face he had ever seen.


    ¡°That was an unexpected request, though for what it is worth, I think you have chosen wisely¡±


    Athena exploded with a corona of golden light and Morgan''s world was consumed in holy light.


    When he finally recovered whatever doubts that still lingered about her power were gone. A golden Corinthian helmet with a red crest rested atop her head, it bore a design that made him think of the face of an owl. Her hair flowed from beneath her helmet like a river of black mist, glittering with distant stars. Her cloak was swept back, her golden armour revealed in full. She wore an ornate breastplate with matching bracers and greaves over her tall sandals. Underneath the armour she wore a pure white chiton, rainbow light subtly shimmered in the shifting folds of the dress. She approached him, spear and gorgon shield in hand, her hair and dress gently flowing on invisible currents of power. The sharp aura of focus she seemed to always have was more intense. It left no room for doubt that what he was seeing was an illusion. It was as if the truth of her power had been thrust into his mind and it brokered no arguments. Faint plumes of glowing mist flowed from her lips as she spoke, distorting the space around it.


    ¡°Morgan Harris, I accept you as my champion, Step forth and accept my favour¡±


    Her voice resonated through the air like nothing he had ever heard before. It was as if it came from everywhere around him and from within him all at once. In that moment, standing in her glory the aches of his body and the weariness that fogged his thoughts cleared. Like the sun breaking through on a cool and cloudy day her aura warmed him to his bones. Morgan stepped forward and the world around him fell away, in its place he found himself standing in a pearlescent marble temple. Sconces of golden flames and gilded pillars lined the hall. Fine pottery of clay and bronze filled the spaces in-between, each one decorated with innumerable epic tales. Some were empty, but others were filled with scrolls and more still with a blue-white flower, the scent of which mingled pleasantly with the smell of oils and incense. Beneath his feet stretched out a crimson carpet and at its head Athena stood as a giant, at least ten times her human size. She raised her hand towards him and he felt himself starting to float off the ground as power flowed into him. For a brief instant, Morgan felt a divine sense of clarity rush through him. The whole world seemed like a song, he could feel its beat and rhythm. He felt like if he listened long enough he could probably figure out the patterns of it too, how one note led into another, how the instruments complemented one another. As quickly as it came, it faded. Though in its wake he was not left empty handed, even in the diminished state of knowing he could feel how the blessings were taking shape. He felt the connection to a warm power inside him that he now knew to be his soul. But he felt a distance to it that he desperately wanted to close, like closing the gap would solve every problem in the world. It was in the in-between that he found the blessings, a part of himself that bridged the gap between his mortal self and his soul. It was in this spirit that the blessings did their work. His spirit was like a formless blob, the power shaping it came from the light around him, pushing into him and moulding him like fresh clay. The first part of the power he could identify seemed to carved his formless spirit into something more human. It shaped it into channels and paths, veins and capillaries. The shapeless materials of his spirit that were left hardened in muscles, skin and bones. It was the touch upon the well of power from his soul though that he felt tug at him in the formless space. He saw it thread through the form like a nervous system that brought the whole thing to life and the source of power, his soul, sat in the head like a brain. He knew on some level this was just his mind trying to make sense of things, though he felt that like an analogy, there was some truth in it. The second boon came then, he saw the light around him pull something of itself and much in the same way as his spirit, it began to take shape. He was not tied to it as this happened so he had little insight into what it was, though soon it seemed to become more stable and solid. It shot towards him and lodged itself in his spirit as his soul sent tendrils of power into it. Morgan had expected it to hurt, but instead he simply felt¡­ heavier somehow, he suddenly became aware of something new inside him, like an extra limb that he had no idea how to really control or sense. He just knew it was there. At last the third boon came, though unlike the first two it seemed incomplete. It quickly made sense however as it started to merge with a power that was already in him and Morgan knew in an instant his awareness of this process was part of the boon. As the power pushed through him, he felt it compact and shrink, the awareness he had quickly fading with it. He felt it melding into his mind, the last insight he had was that it felt rather like someone trying to simplify something for a toddler, only he was the toddler. The light around Morgan began to recede and he felt his consciousness slipping in sleep. He got one last look at Athena''s face, standing before him in all her regalia. A sad smile was set on her face and worry filled her eyes and for a moment, she seemed to him a person like any other. Athena¡¯s words slid into his mind like a whisper as slumber slowly swept through him.


    ¡°Good luck my champion.¡±


    Morgan jolted awake to the haze of pain. His accumulated injuries apparently having felt slighted by the relief the goddess offered had returned like he owed them money. Blinking his eyes against the glaring light Morgan looked out at the ocean, lit up by the mid afternoon sun. Briefly, Morgan wondered what he was going to do next and what exactly had just happened to him. An answer came in the form of a  blue and white box  that appeared before him. Geometric decals lined the edges and a small icon of an owl head with spread wings was located in the top-centre edge of the box.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 100%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 95.0413%">


    Hello there!


    Welcome to the System


    New Quests have been added to your quest log.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>

 Welcome to the System!

    As the shock slowly wore off Morgan stared at the blue screen before his eyes. He tried to look around it, but it followed his vision as if painted onto his eyes. A few more attempts to figure it out, ranging from poking his hand through it to slapping himself in the face didn''t change anything. Deciding on a different approach Morgan studied the interface. The box didn''t seem to have anything to close or minimize, or anything that really looked like he could physically interact with it. Morgan decided that whatever force created this wouldn''t have been silly enough to create a user interface that you couldn''t actually interface with, so took what he felt was the next logical step. Focusing on the box he used his best commanding voice.


    "Close window"


    The box blinked out of view and his vision was left clear again. Morgan rolled over as he pushed himself up. With a groan belonging to a man at least twice his age, he heaved himself up so he could squat comfortably in the shade of the olive tree and away from the glare of the sun. Squinting against ache of his fatigue and injury, Morgan took a breath to focus before mumbling to himself.


    "Alright thingy''mc''jig you said you had a quest for me, show it to me"


    The interface shot up before Morgan could finish speaking. So it responded to intent and not verbal command? Morgan filed that away for later. The new window was larger than the notification box he had gotten before.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 30%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%; text-align: center">QUEST LOG</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%">


    WISDOM OF THE GODS: OBJECTIVE 0/1 Due to your current limitations, true wisdom yet lies beyond your grasp. Raise your level and core attributes to progress further. REWARDS: +100XP, +1 MYTHIC-RANK TALENT


    SECRETS OF THE ISLES: OBJECTIVE 0/1 Understanding is the key to wisdom. You are currently stranded on an unknown island brought by forces beyond your ken. Travel inland and search for clues about the contest of the gods and ascertain your true objective. REWARDS: +50XP, +2 NEW ENTRIES FOR YOUR GRIMOIRE


    FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC: OBJECTIVES 1/5 While one might survive alone, they will never thrive and the challenges ahead will necessitate you to find friends or allies if you wish to do either. Find a minimum of (5) friends or allies to help you on your journey. REWARDS: +15XP, +2 NEW ENTRIES FOR YOUR GRIMOIRE


    VIOLENCE IS SOMETIMES THE ANSWER: OBJECTIVE 0/1 Torn from the shelter of civilization you will now have to fend for yourself. Slay one of the many beasts on this island to reap its bounty. REWARD: +15XP, +1 NEW LINEAGE TRAIT +1 ITEM REWARD (RARITY SCALES WITH BEAST SLAIN)


    SYSTEM KNOWLEDGE!: OBJECTIVES 1/3 Great power has been bestowed upon you. it is now up to you to explore those gifts. Discover all of the functions of your new system and examine your boons. REWARDS +5XP, +1 NEW ENTRY FOR YOUR GRIMOIRE


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Morgan''s mind was reeling as he tried to process all of the new information. Some of what he saw made a kind of sense to him, though he never expected to see it anywhere beyond the bounds of a computer screen. A chill breeze briefly suppressed the remaining warmth of the sun reminding Morgan of the slowly setting sun and the ticking clock it now seemed to represent. He instead chose to focus on something he could do. The last quest on the list SYSTEM KNOWLEDGE! seemed like something he could immediately do something about, that and the repeated mention of a grimoire, which he guessed was the item or-Vestige as she called it he had received. Morgan quickly scanned around him, but there was not any new mysterious books lying about. As he thought about it however, he felt a tugging sensation inside himself. Almost by instinct, Morgan reached out and the air shimmered and warped above his open hand. A moment later and sure enough, a dark grey tome with pages of black vellum floated above his hand. On its cover the title read The Boundless Grimoire in reassuringly bold and friendly letters. It was framed with a similar pattern to his system windows with and owl symbol in the center-top of the boarder. Above the title were an array of moons in an arc, ranging from new, to crescent to a full moon in the middle. The last detail was below, a large key underlined the title and below it were a pair of crossed torches. All the details seemed to be inlayed with a dark gleaming silver. It would have been an awesome moment Morgan thought, save for the fact the title had him trying and failing to hum the theme of The Never Ending Story. Whatever grandeur remained in that moment was mercilessly crushed as a noise that sat awkwardly between a giggle and a cackle escaped him. Morgan summoned, dismissed and re-summoned the floating book all the while waving his hand about as it gracefully floated above.


    Cool I can make a book float Morgan thought to himself with a boyish grin.


    He made a few more whooshing noises, the excitement helping him ignore the stinging stiffness of his body though it soon dulled his enthusiasm. Morgan flicked through the various pages, although they all appeared to be blank. As his thoughts drifted to finding an index, the grimoire pages shifted of their own accord to the front of the book. There, Morgan saw a series of chapter headings. The first was the encyclopedia, Morgan checked and it was empty. Not a very good encyclopedia is it Morgan thought to himself. The next was the journal, which was predictably empty as well. What disappointed him the most though was that the Spells & Rituals section was empty as well. Morgan quickly glanced through the last two sections, Techniques & Arts and Enhancements but they were predictably empty as well. Morgan did a few practice swings with the book as he ruminated on the situation.


    Maybe I can just thwack things with it? It''s a pretty hefty tome after-all


    Morgan glanced back at his quest window and focused on SYSTEM KNOWLEDGE. It at least was something he could do for now, which was good because the adrenaline was wearing off and he was going to be hounded by decision paralysis if he had to start thinking. The Boundless Grimoire shimmered out of existence as Morgan dismissed it. Standing up from his crouch Morgan groaned at the tightness in his legs and the ache in his back, both of which only had a little to do with the horrid day he was having and everything to do with being over thirty. Morgan paced slowly around the olive tree as he thought on the best way to view the other functions of the System. Functions, Morgan focused on the word, he pictured the old black and green command prompt he''d always had and pictured himself typing /functions as he thought on the System. The response was immediate. His felt a strange sort of awareness spread in his mind that felt simultaneously naturally familiar and utterly alien at the same time. The first sensation he identified were his notifications. There was a number of them waiting that exerted a pressure on his mind that felt unerringly similar to when his eyes accidentally fell on the 107 unread messages on his phone. Don''t judge me Morgan thought bitterly to himself, not that it would do any good. Morgan resolved to be slightly more diligent with these messages, though he wanted to identify the other functions before opening that can of worms. The next section he knew instantly to be the Quest menu, he moved on to the last two. One he felt a connection driving inwards and got the sense of pulling at something that was tethered to every fibre of his being. The other felt like a pressure building behind his eyes, trying to reach out and latch onto the patterns of the world around him. Morgan glanced down at a nearby stick as he let the building pressure out.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 25%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%; text-align: center">IDENTIFY</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%; text-align: left">


    NAME: Stick


    TYPE: Mundane, Common, Wood


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    DESCRIPTION: It is a stick.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Morgan was starting to think that maybe he had been tricked and secretly his patron was actually some trickster deity like Hermes or Loki. With a sigh, he turned his attention to his notifications with a sigh. Hopefully something in there can enlighten me about what exactly is going on. With a thought, Morgan opened the flood gates and let the notifications fill his vision. There was a blur of notifications about sustaining injuries and running dangerously low on Willpower and surprisingly, a notification about gaining more. Morgan flicked through and dismissed them, leaving only the ones that caught his attention the most.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 30%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%; text-align: center">NOTIFICATION</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%; text-align: left">


    ALERT: SystemError/calc.SystemFailure!!!****


    ALERT: SystemError/calc.SystenFailure!!!**** your vessel has changed to PROGENITOR-HUMAN. Congratulations! You have 1 new lineage trait available.


    ALERT: You have made a soul-bound oath to Argo. Breaking this oath will result in the permanent loss of Willpower.


    ALERT: You have entered a soul compact with DIVINE-RANK Entity Athena, Goddess of Wisdom.


    ALERT: You have received the boon: Class Advancement-Mage from Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. Check your Status page for more information


    ALERT: You have received the boon: Divine Vestige-The Boundless Grimoire from Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. This item is now soul-bound.


    ALERT: You have received the boon: SystemError//calc.IncompatibleData/Port*********** You have received the boon: Divine Wisdom from Athena, Goddess of Wisdom. No further information available.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Morgan felt somewhat nervous with both the multiple mentions of soul-binding and the slew of error messages. Up until recently he had placed the concept of a soul in the ''pleasant wishful thinking'' category. Knowing that souls existed and that he was wholly uneducated on the subject made him at least a little concerned about tampering with it. Souls are important right? The other thing was concerning too, he was pretty sure he didn''t actually have a computer run system running in his brain, so the nature of the errors were unknown to him. I did make one thing clear at least, Morgan mused. The system isn''t infallible and if the identify function is anything to go by, it has some pretty big gaps in what it does know. Still, if the quests were anything to go by at, it probably still knew a lot more than him. Morgan was happy to concede that much at least. Morgan paused his pacing as he was starting to build up a sweat that was stinging against his wounds. He was also slightly out of breath, although that was probably because he kept forgetting to breath steadily. While Morgan didn''t consider himself fit by any measure, his most recent job at least forced out of his house and move a bit. Morgan leant carefully against his new favourite tree carefully avoid the temptation to sit down. He was fairly certain that if he did joints would lock up and he wouldn''t be going anywhere for at least a few hours. With a deep breath, Morgan focused on the last piece of the System. He felt the pulling sensation pulse through his body, unconsciously muttering the command as he thought it.


    Status


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 30.0081%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%; text-align: center">STATUS</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%">


    NAME: Morgan Ashley Harris


    LEVEL 1: 0/10XP


    VESSEL: Human Progenitor


    VESSEL TRAITS: <1 new lineage trait pending>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%">


    CORE ATTRIBUTES


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%">


    PRESENCE: 1


    AWARENESS: 1


    INTELLECT: 1


    WILLPOWER: 3/15


    UNKNOWN: N/A


    UNKNOWN: N/A


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%">


    FEATURES


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%">


    TITLES: Chosen of Athena


    TALENTS: Spell-craft, Oath-craft, Hyperfocus


    ARTS/TECHNIQUES:


    SOULBINDS: The Boundless Grimoire


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%">


    STATUS EFFECTS


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 100%">


    PERMANENT: Gloom, Unfocused, Impaired Vision, Impaired Hearing, Stiff Joints


    TEMPORARY: Inspired


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    A strange mix of emotions passed through Morgan as he read through his status sheet. First excitement, a new ability to pick rousing his inner gamer. That was immediately doused by the lousy looking stats, though he did later reflect that with no point of reference for what they represent or another to compare with he should withhold any judgements, but come on! Who would ever want to see one of their stats as a 1? Morgan didn''t quite know what to make of his features, so he made a note to himself to look into them later, although it all looked like pretty good stuff so far. As for the status effects he, well... He wasn''t exactly happy about it, but he was hardly surprised. It was probably to Gloom talking, but Morgan found he could only let someone down so many times before they lost faith in him-and more often than not the person he was letting down was himself. Still, Morgan found it relatively simply to shake himself out of it, with a day this chaotic and whimsical it was going to take a bit more than a few sour thoughts to ruin his mood. Especially, Morgan thought as he smiled to himself, when you have powers to pick and spells to learn! Just the thought of it made him giddy. Morgan still wasn''t sure what a


    was, well he what it was technically but he didn''t know exactly what it meant for him. At least he was still human though. Pushing his thoughts towards the lineage trait, Morgan felt a pulse of energy move through him, energising him as all the hairs on his arms and neck stood up. All the aches of his body seemed to be suspended and it almost felt as if he were suddenly lighter.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 20%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.0268%; text-align: center">


    LINEAGE TRAIT OPTIONS


    <Choose 1 Physical trait>


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.0268%">


    EFFICIENT MUSCLES: Your muscles become more efficient. Provides a mild increase to endurance and dexterity as well as a slight increase to overall strength


    THICK SKIN: You have naturally tough skin that makes you more resistant to physical damage.


    STRENGTHENED SKELETON: Tougher bones and ligaments provide a stronger base for your body to work with. Strongly resistant to physicals sources of bone damage and provides a mild increase to endurance and strength


    IMPROVED RECOVERY: Your body is capable of recovering faster from illness, infection and injury. Improves the bodies ability to self repair, allowing you to recover from injuries more perfectly.


    NIGHT EYES: Your eyes adapt well to the dark, you are better able to visually track moving targets and adapt quicker to sudden changes of light.


    SENSITIVE DERMIS: Your skin and hair is sensitive to subtle changes in the air, Greatly improving your situational awareness and slightly improving your reaction time.


    HIGHTENED SENSES: All of your senses are slightly improved and your ability to quickly process sensory information is mildly improved.


    RESILIANT SENSES: You adapt quickly to sudden changes in your environment and are highly resistant to sensory damage.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Morgan went over his options several times. <Efficient Muscles> seemed like it would be a great pick, being not just stronger but more precise and tire slower? What wasn''t to like. Much the same went for <Strengthened Skeleton> though admittedly he did prefer the former. The sensory options were also tempting, especially considering he didn''t have his glasses, also apparently he had poor hearing? He hadn''t even noticed. Despite that <Sensitive Dermis> did tickle the mischievous part of his mind that had him harming the theme for a certain spider-themed hero with a hard-on for responsibility. Morgan knew he had some very immediate concerns to deal with and the toughness from <Thick Skin> would help a lot... Provided he got medical attention of course and didn''t die because one of the numerous cuts covering his body got infected. No, Morgan knew there was only one sensible choice he could pick right now, even if it wasn''t super exciting. Morgan locked in <Improved Recovery> and the power that was thrumming through him finally settled in cool wave that spread through his body. Ever so subtly all the aches of his body lessened slightly. It wasn''t much but it was good to have a little feedback to know it was doing something at least. Morgan let a tired half-smile spread across his features as he saw the notification pop up.


    It was time for Morgan to learn a bit of magic.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 20%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.0268%; text-align: center">QUEST COMPLETED</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.0268%">


    Congratulations! You have complete the quest SYSTEM KNOWLEDGE!


    You have received +5xp


    Please select 1 new entry for The Boundless Grimoire


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>

 One small spell for Morgan

    Morgan found he couldn''t help but grin as he accepted the prompt and glanced over the options. It was the most excited he had ever been as far as he could remember, though his horrendous memory and generally dreadful demeanour did make that a rather short list. His newly acquired <improved recovery> trait was also working its magic. It wasn''t like he had a super healing factor, the change wasn''t even outwardly noticeable. However he did feel like more of his strength had returned as he stretched beneath his tree. With a flick of his wrist the spell book shimmered in existence, Morgan decided to indulge himself in a bite of bread and a sip of water as he considered his choices.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 30%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.0385%; text-align: center">


    You have <1> spell point for your Grimoire


    </td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.0385%">


    Tier 1 Ritual: Poise <3 Willpower>


    Connected Aspect: Heroism


    Attribute: Awareness


    Description: You gain a temporary increase to your composure and can move with a greater degree of agility and precision. Duration varies with ritual practice. Would you like to acquire for 1SP <Y/N>


    Tier 1 Technique: Meditate


    Connected Aspect: Wisdom


    Attribute: Intellect


    Description: Enter a state of deep spiritual connection to relax and centre yourself. Allows you to recuperate spiritual energy such as Willpower at an accelerated rate. Would you like to acquire this for 1SP <Y/N>


    Tier 1 Spell: True Strike <3 Willpower>


    Connected Aspect: Warfare


    Attribute: Intellect


    Description: Imbue an object you are holding or one of your limbs to strike a target with unerring accuracy and baleful force. Would you like to acquire this for 1SP <Y/N>


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Morgan looked over them and sighed, indulging in his exhaustion for a brief moment. They were all useful, but he already knew he would pick <True Strike>. <Meditate> sounded pretty universally useful and


    would likely help offset his natural clumsiness. Depending on the duration it could end up being something he benefitted from all day. Morgan stretched his back against the olive tree, trying to position his legs and take advantage of the soft grass creeping around the trees roots. He looked in the woods leading inland, his breath catching slightly as he remembered the quest description for <Violence is sometimes the answer>. As amusing as he found the sardonic name of it, it left in no uncertain terms that violence was in his near future. That and the contest with the Gods of which he was now a champion and thus, participant in. Somehow Morgan doubted he would be getting through that without a scuffle or two. No, he needed something more than a fancy book to slap things with if he was going to survive, he just had to hope the other options would come around again in another quest reward. Morgan mentally accepted <True Strike> and felt and odd sensation of energy moving between him and his spell book. For a brief moment it seemed to grow heavier and the Morgan felt the tether between him and the grimoire grow stronger before the the feeling faded. Morgan flipped the book open, its'' black pages lighting up with the index page and sure enough one new spell was there. As his excitement grew the pages flipped past, responding to his intent. The silvery ink resolved into a number of paragraphs, broken up by glyph circles layered with meaning he could decipher. Part of him had hoped it might just be uploaded into his head or something but he had no such luck. That was fine though Morgan thought, if there was anything he could immerse himself in, it was learning magic. Another fine feature was that despite the fact he normally needed his glasses to read, the writing on the pages was still in perfect focus for him. Each word and symbol felt like it echoed in his mind as he read. The initial introduction for the spell described its effect and the manner of casting. The effect was simple enough, it would imbue a single attack with supernatural force and accuracy, both factors would vary depending on the power of the caster. The casting however, was not entirely what he had expected. Morgan expected some prescribed movements and an incantation of sorts. Instead, it simply suggested a series of mental exercises to create the appropriate thoughtform. He would then need to employ spell-craft to create an internal leyline that would act as a pathway for the spell to be conjured into reality. The world around him slowly slipped away as he read, the words echoing in his mind with a growing intensity until the words stuck inside his head as if someone had used a generous dose of gorilla glue and stuck them there. Slowly, Morgan begun to understand. The thoughtforms were guidelines to forming some rough approximation of the spell in his mind. He didn''t need to work from scratch, the concept of the spell was already out there beyond the stricter confines of the physical world and all he needed was to give it something to connect to. The glyph, a mix of words, runes and geometry took that concept and transformed it. Some part of Morgan new that even with magic, reality demanded structure was structure and the glyph gathered the disparate notions of the spell and organised them into something a little more solid. Magic needed an inroad to reality, pure potential distilled and refined by a system of rules and whatever that glyph was, it was those rules. Morgan still didn''t know what all those rules were, who made them and why they resembled the mystic mumbo-jumbo typical of the fantasy genre but he was in no position to get answers so he would have to put those queries aside for the moment.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 20%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.0268%; text-align: center">Feat Accomplished!</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.0268%">


    You have memorized your first spell.


    Uncommon Feat + 4xp


    You have 9/10xp


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    Morgan groaned as he was caught between the excitement of almost levelling, the exhilaration of learning actual magic and the the frustration of almost levelling up. Seriously 1xp short? Morgan thought as he audibly exhaled his frustration, trying to clear the negativity from his thoughts. This was a good thing. He closer to seeing what a level up was like, Morgan chuckled to himself as he wondered whether he would get some shiny special effects when he levelled up. Hell maybe he would even get a cool sound effect, maybe a bit of his own personal theme music? The thought brought him back up to a lighter mood. Morgan pushed himself up in a stumble, stretching as a few of his joints cracked. It didn''t look like anyone was coming up the beach and the sun looked to have an hour at best before it ducked behind the storm and the myriad colours painting the sky would dim to darkness, lit only by the soft light of the moon and stars. Morgan wanted to test out his new spell because he was excited to have real, actual magic-it was still cool and he was not over that. On the more practical side of things he also wanted to test it to make sure it was real, make sure it worked. The thought of getting into a fight with some large and angry creature and having to bet his life on an untested power was not something that appealed to him. Morgan double check the cost. He would need 3 points of <Willpower> to activate the spell and so far he only had <4/15> left. The fact he had regained 1 point in the time it took him to learn the spell was reassuring at least, even if he didn''t know exactly how long that was. Normally checking the time was something he dreaded, either it meant dragging himself off to do something he despised or reminding himself of how much time he had wasted being unproductive or doing nothing. In this particular moment however, Morgan really wished he had a watch. With a sigh of resignation Morgan knew he had to keep going. He couldn''t go back to Argo, if he went back to that cabin the comfort of it would smother the meager drive that hat lit up inside him and he didn''t know if he when or if he could find the energy to reignite it. He couldn''t wait here either. He was growing fond of the gnarled olive tree with its thick trunk that looked to have grown over itself several times over, but out here he was exposed to the winds sweeping swipes stinging against his skin and howled in his ears. It was also getting a little bit chilly too. There was only one path forward and he wouldn''t be doing himself any good trying to put it off.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Looking inland the small amount of of shrubland quickly gave way to a vast forest. Morgan felt some familiarity to it, the trees bore some similarities to the native ones of Australia but were still noticeably unfamiliar. The trees were tall with course plates of thick bark, with high branches forming a canopy of small leaves that blurred into a pale mass of green that soaked up the sun. The few low hanging branches he would need to navigate around were mostly bereft of leaves. What little patches of light made it through to the forest floor were crowded with shrubs, bushes and long strands of thin grass. At this distance Morgan couldn''t make out any finer details such as nuts or berries, the occasion blurry spot of colours other than green and brown told him their were a few wild flowers out. He probably shouldn''t trust anything he found anyway, he was not a botanist had no survival training. In short his knowledge of flora was sparser than his hair. He could at least make out a path in at least. Weaving in-between all of the bushes were small but noticeable paths working through the forest that weaved inwards until the distant trees overlapped one another in the growing darkness. Morgan settled on walking those paths while staying close to the rocky grey slope that looked to become a cliff somewhere in the distance. It would at least provide a some sense of direction which he sorely lacked. With no more reasons to delay Morgan pushed himself onwards, his footfalls heavy dry twigs and dead leaves crunching underfoot as he made his way through the shrubland and into the shelter of the trees.


    Morgan trudged on ducking under the occasional bare branch. The sight of nature had made him to a sombre, the area was similar enough to remind him of the walks he used to take with his dad. Before he passed away he always tried to cheer him up, help him appreciate the little things in life. It made a certain amount of sense that it was something he should be able to do anyway. Morgan was an artist after all, emphasis on the past-tense of was. It was a little difficult to honestly call himself one when he hadn''t done more than a dozen sketches in the past five years. No, an artist would look at the trees, the symphony of birds going to roost for the night, the screeching of nocturnal creatures waking for the night shift amidst the creaking branches and rustling leaves. An artist would breathe in the faint odor of petrichor, the scent of the ocean carried by the wind and they would use it to paint their mind with the beauty around them. They would know techniques to get the beauty in their mind and draw it out into something real. But Morgan''s mind was quiet. He always made a token effort to look around, observe the details of the world around him, try to imagine how he would sketch them, how he could bring their colours to life on a page. He tried to pull at the fraying threads of knowledge from when he had studied architecture and managed to remember learning things but not what it was he had learnt beyond a few token bits of information he had pulled out in conversations over the years to prove he had in fact, learnt something. Deciding that leaving himself to his own thoughts wasn''t going to get him anywhere Morgan turned his focus to his <Status Screen>. There were a number of things he saw there that he didn''t have any information on beyond the names. Since he was just trudging along at the moment, he thought it would be a good time to clear things up first. He started with the status effects. Most of them while not surprising still weren''t good so he may as well get them out of the way. Focusing on the status effects Morgan felt resistance, like pressure building in his mind. He worried for a moment it would take more <Willpower> to force the system to cough up more information but luckily the pressure gave way after a moment revealing more information.


    <table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 30%" border="1">


    <tbody>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.0268%; text-align: center">STATUS EFFECTS</td>


    </tr>


    <tr>


    <td style="width: 99.0268%">


    PERMANENT:


    Gloom <Major> : Despair infects your mind and is reflected in your spirit. You regenerate Willpower at half the normal rate and have a minor resistance to emotion-based magical effects. <Suppressed>


    Unfocused <Major> : The chaos in your mind seeps into your spirit. While in a peaceful environment, spells, techniques, arts and rituals that require focus are harder to pull off and magic used to focus the mind costs and additional 2 <Willpower> <Suppressed>


    Impaired Vision <Major> : Your eyesight has degraded. You have trouble discerning details and picking up subtle movements at a distance.


    Impaired Hearing <Minor> : You have difficulty discerning the difference between similar sounds.


    Stiff Joints <Minor> : Suffer a decrease in agility and have a greater chance of gaining an injury when physically exerting yourself.


    TEMPORARY:


    Inspired <Major>: Hope emboldens you and strengthens your spirit. Increases the rate at which you learn and temporarily suppresses the metaphysical elements of any negative mental status effects that you are suffering from.


    </td>


    </tr>


    </tbody>


    </table>


    "Cool, somehow I made my soul depressed too" Morgan groaned out with a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pushed back the encroaching headache. He was a little surprised about the impaired hearing, he didn''t know anything was wrong but then again, it was only minor. He was also thankful the unfocused status effect probably wouldn''t affect him if he got into a fight. Inspired... was not all too surprising when he thought about it. Even he would be hard pressed not to feel a little giddy after getting divine assistance from a mythical goddess. The inspired status was temporary, so Morgan resolved to make the best of it while it lasted. From the description it probably didn''t do all that much to improve the mundane side of things aside from improving his ability to learn. He was a little curious about what that entailed. Was it improving memory retention, neuroplasticity, pattern recognition and all that science-y stuff or did he just have a magical gremlin etching knowledge into his brain? Morgan huffed out a silent laugh at the thought, he was leaning towards the former-recent events may have shattered his perception of what was possible but he wasn''t ready to abandon science to dive off the mystic deep end quite yet. His inspection of the interface was cut short as he nearly tripped over a stray root. The light had rapidly faded at some point he wasn''t paying attention to and almost dropped his sack of supplies. He had managed to shift them all into the one sack and heft it over his shoulder, but the weight of it was leaving him unbalanced. He had tried alternating which shoulder he heft the sack over but now both of his arms were getting tired, his muscles aching in protest. Morgan looked around and found a small clearing nearby, the stump of a fallen tree was lit by a ray of moonlight shining through the break in the canopy. Morgan paced over with an unsteady gait and dropped down with all the grace of a brick.


    "I knew I should have done stretches before getting teleported to a mystic island" Morgan muttered to the sky. It was pretty, the moon was far larger in the sky than he was used to, the dark blue canvas around it was clear of clouds and filled with the glittering of stars more numerous than he had ever seen before in his life. There in that clearing, he felt an ache in his heart and a longing he could not quite place. Morgan swallowed the lump in his throat, he still had to find out what all his features did. But moments of not just calm, but genuine peace were are rare thing for him. He would not begrudge himself indulging in it for a moment longer. The wind had been tempered to a pleasant breeze here, the otherwise warm night balancing out its chill. His cloak provided a comforting weight around his shoulders as he allowed himself to practice some breathing technique which was the only thing he remembered from some employability training course over half a decade ago. As he thought about the system and the things he was going to look over he started to feel the things the system showed him. It was like the indistinct shapes you get when you close your eyes after staring into a bright light. They started to swirl and shift as he kept his minds eye on them and for a moment he started to see patterns in the flow, pathways layered with meaning that sat at the tip of his tongue. A high pitch squeal, follow by some panicked shouting interrupted his tranquility as two figures charged into the clearing, an irate boar hot on their trail. Morgan sat dumbfounded as the mental whiplash of the situation hit him, a rave of thoughts and observations scrambling over each other for his attention.


    "People?People! I FINALLY FOUND PEOPLE! Wait is that a dwarf holding a torch? Wait is dwarf the proper term? Pretty sure midget is a slur is midget a slur I should look that up but I don''t have a phone-and is that a boarOH SHIT THAT IS A BOAR!! Why does it have arrows-oh wait that girl has a bow... Why is she dressed like a school-wait why is she shouting in German? Boars are larger than I expected-isitlookingatmeIthinkit''sloo-"


    The last thing Morgan heard as the boar barreled towards him was the dwarf''s voice shouting with a funny accent he could not quite place.


    "LOOOOOK OUUT!"