《Seven Strings: Fracture》


 Prologue

    Atop a twisted spire mimicking an impossibly large narwhal¡¯s horn, a man cloaked in a cyclone of ash and ember sat in a catcher''s position, arms resting on his knees. His expression was flinty and his eyes were alight with fire as he panned his view across the latest of many destroyed worlds. A small piece on his ear began to glow, and the man snorted.


    ¡°What is it?¡± he asked testily, still taking in the shattered world. It wasn¡¯t his responsibility to stop this, but it was his job to find the one who did hold that responsibility.


    A woman spoke through the earpiece, ¡°Is it another Shattering?¡± Her voice was domineering and curt, which reflected her position amongst their group well.0


    The man just grimaced, ¡°Mm. Another victim of Kosetsu¡¯s failure. Are you any closer to finding a solution?¡± He held back the tone of hope that had tried to infiltrate his voice. He wouldn¡¯t let Ruin know his pain at setting so many lives and worlds to ruin.


    The woman, Ruin, just sighed. After a pause, ¡°No¡­ The only two options we have are the two obvious ones. And if you can¡¯t find Kosetsu, Cinder, then I¡¯m afraid we must go with the second one.¡±


    Cinder felt shame, though he knew he was doing better than any others might have. ¡°I have a few leads, but the man has proven himself slippery beyond his position. I get close to finding him, then suddenly he is far away again. I nearly got him once, though, so we know he isn¡¯t infallible at least.¡±


    ¡°Keep looking. If you capture him and we are able to reseat his power, then the second course of action isn¡¯t necessary. If not, then it will be. I will begin to set things in motion in preparation. Hurry, Cinder. It will cost us all greatly if you do not succeed.¡± The glow receded from the piece Cinder wore, and the man took one last look at the devastation left behind by Kosetsu.


    The tower was the last thing on that planet. All else was shattered. Where once was dirt, water, and trees, there was now nothing but floating and spinning shards of green, blue, and brown. The sky was ominous, as nothing but a maelstrom of red shards were spinning in the sky, the only differences being the darker shades of red that swept through the sky, like ripples in a disturbed lake.


    Cinder just snorted before fire rose around him in a column, only lasting a bare moment before it faded, leaving nothing behind. Immediately following his departure, the tower he had perched upon began to grow glassy, until the entire thing began to splinter into shards of gray, starting at the bottom and spreading to the top. Soon, all that was left was a world of shattered glass.


    ¡­


    Ripley House was having fun. It had been a long time since he could claim such a thing, and he couldn¡¯t be happier about being able to say it again. He was alone. Well, more like away from his family. Anyway, he didn¡¯t have the shadow of his surname towering over him anymore. Now, it was just a tower that, while still casting its shadow over him, didn¡¯t threaten to crush him should he fail to match its grandeur.


    Ripley was in the air, sitting in a seat with a huge fan attached to the back, and a parachute holding him aloft. He had goggles and was enjoying the views of this new land he called home. Floating islands, vibrant teal grass and trees, with waterfalls that had a fifty-fifty chance of going up or down. Every so often, the landscape was sullied with a monster trundling about, and Ripley didn¡¯t tolerate them. He would sweep down, manifesting a sword looking to be made of crystal fragments, tied together by bits of cloth that would extend and retract. Each sweep brought the monsters low, hardly giving them time to fight back.


    Ripley enjoyed the feeling of both having fun and helping his community avoid damage from monsters. He stayed flying around for hours, though paying attention to the time piece on his wrist. He had an appointment with a prospective private mercenary later in the afternoon, and he was killing time by paragliding around, learning the land, slaying monsters and enjoying the life of a mercenary.


    Ripley smiled and continued his exploration.


    ¡­


    ¡°Alright, one more, and you should be presented with a Calamity Crown. We will know if you don¡¯t take it, and there will be consequences. Are we clear, 438?¡± A man in a white lab-coat said to the emaciated boy, who was panting and grimacing from the forceful method with which they had applied his last two facets. He nodded in spite of it, having learned since before he could speak that obedience meant less pain.


    The coated man turned to one of the many other identically garbed men and nodded, stepping back from 438. Another facet was placed on the ritual circle, and 438 struggled not to panic. His breathing went out of control and his heart felt like it was trying to explode. 438 felt his eyes grow wet, something that happened often for some reason, especially when it was his turn for testing.


    The facet the coated men sat on the circle was vastly different from the previous two. The first was a red facet, which contained a maelstrom of fire. Then second was gray, seemingly filled with dust, though about a quarter of that dust still glowed orange with fading heat.


    This one, though, was¡­ free of those concept-heavy factors. Even looking at it, 438 noticed his breathing slow, his heart calm, and his wet-eyes began to dry. It looked beautiful to him, like nothing he¡¯d ever seen. But, in a moment after the coated men receded behind the clear wall, it flashed then turned to dust, the power once inside of it now contained within the ritual circle surrounding him, flowing through the diagram and toward him.


    All the things the gem had once rid him of returned in force, his breathing restricted and his eyes pouring liquid. 438 tried to stop his voice from escaping again, but was unsuccessful as he let out a trawling moan.


    ¡°FOCUS, 438!¡± a coated man screamed over the voice boxes. 438 tried, and opened the eyes he had clenched shut to peer blearily at a row of three new facets floating in front of his face. One was like the last facet, only far stronger. 438 felt a strange sensation he had learned to refer to as hope from the gem. It was clear, unfettered, like freedom. 438 shrunk from it, knowing where freedom got the others. The coated men had freed many that 438 felt warm from, and they didn¡¯t look happy, staring at the ceiling until they began to stink and the coated men removed them.


    Looking to the next, it was deeper red than crimson, so rich in its depth that it halted 438¡¯s breath. It made him feel strong. It made him want to tear the coated men to pieces, drinking their blood and making them feel fear. Feel freedom. Return to them what they had given to 438 and all the other Numbers.


    438 flinched at that one, the feeling a fantasy. 438 had seen what happens when Numbers try to hurt coated men. They got freedom. He turned to the last one, and it was different from the others. It didn¡¯t make 438 feel anything. It was unlike any of the others. If anything, it felt wrong for it to exist.


    ¡°Yes, take that one! The one on the far right. Take it!¡± a coated man shouted, a strange emotion in his voice as his mouth formed a strange curve. 438 glanced at the other two one more time, then took the one he was directed to. He tentatively touched it with a finger, gasping when all the power inside the gem flooded into his digit, then throughout his entire body.


    438 began to spasm on the floor, unable to control his body as the feeling of wrongness grew and grew. The coated men were swarming him, and 438 felt calm. He felt freedom coming, this time not at the hands of the coated men. As the darkness encircled his vision, 438 felt like maybe¡­ freedom wasn¡¯t so bad. He closed his eyes, but only for a moment until a coated man slapped 438¡¯s chest, hands aglow with some energy. Everything changed in a moment. Pain like nothing 438 had ever felt erupted, and peace became turmoil. He was more alive in that moment than he¡¯d ever been before as he thrashed against the pain, swinging his arms.


    Those arms were now roiling ash, most of it still glowing hot. The arms ineffectually struck the coated men, turning their white coats grey and full of holes. But the men within the coats didn¡¯t even react as they looked on with their weird curved mouths, helping the man with glowing hands keep contact with 438¡¯s chest.


    After what felt like forever, 438 no longer felt pain. He lay there, exhausted, while the coated men did the same. They still curved their mouths upward for some reason, and talked to each other with that strange tone. Their speech was hurried and jumbling, but 438 didn¡¯t focus on it. The only words he heard were from a man that seemingly laid down on the ceiling, defying gravity and going unnoticed by the coated men. He looked relaxed as he curiously ran his eyes over 438.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°How horrible.¡± He said, a sad note in his voice. He then shook his head, ¡°But what¡¯s done is done. Do you know who I am?¡±


    438 barely shook his head.


    ¡°Hmm, that makes sense. You¡¯re a slave, and have been since birth. Well, let me tell you something. I am Cinder, Calamity born in both Ash and Fire. These people around you, they have been experimenting to copy my power. You are their first success. But that is against the law. Don¡¯t worry, though. You are not at fault. These men will be punished soon, and you will be free if you can survive the chaos.¡±


    438¡¯s eyes opened wide and he shook his head, his eyes becoming wet again.


    Cinder squinted, ¡°Freedom¡­ You don¡¯t know what that word means, do you? No, what you think of as freedom is really death. Freedom is¡­ well, it''s difficult to describe to someone who hasn¡¯t ever had even the barest taste of it. It is good, though. Well, I need to leave. I have a job to do, after all. Genuinely, I wish you luck. I hope you live, and prove to these pricks that you¡¯re more than a rat to be tested on. Bye now.¡± Cinder waved once and vanished in a flash of fire.


    438 closed his eyes, trying to escape to the quiet place others called sleep. A coated man spoke, interrupting him. ¡°Well, since it''s the first prototype, what should we call it?¡± He looked at the other coated men.


    One of them spoke with a bounce in his voice, ¡°One, I think. Since it is the first, there will be many to come. Hopefully better ones.¡±


    The man that had glowing hands shook his head, ¡°No. It will be named Zero. It was an experiment, thus a prototype. One is a designation reserved for the first product made with solid theory and a documented process.


    Zero fell asleep, not hating his new name.


    ¡­


    In a fortress bordering the Barrens, residing in the Holy Highlands, a girl sat in a room. Her father, the commander, was busy. He lived in the fort, and so did his daughter. She had lived since she was born, in fact. This was not what Brock, the commander, had wanted. Not to say he didn¡¯t love her. On the contrary, he cared for her too much to have her youthful days stuck in a gray, bleak fort, surrounded by grizzly and tired people. Brock trusted his men, but their manners left a lot to be desired, even if they tried to reign in the worst of it while Iridianna, his daughter, was around them.


    Inevitably, though, she was exposed to a lot of either inappropriate or harrowing talk. Brock hated that his wife had left them. She had washed her hands of her daughter, which was really the only reason Brock seethed at the mere thought of her. But that was neither here nor there.


    Iridianna sat in her room, the gray walls covered in so many paintings, drawings, and colorful pieces that it was difficult to see the wall. Her hair was the same brown as her father¡¯s, and everything else was her mother, which Iridianna would never know, seeing as she¡¯d never met the woman.


    She didn¡¯t care much though. Iridianna kept to herself mostly, sensing how stifled and awkward all the soldiers of the fort grew around her. She realized they were trying not to offend or make her uncomfortable, which she took to heart. Instead, she stayed in her room or on the ramparts, painting the fictions her mind so ceaselessly conjured. Fairies, flowers, nebulas, festivals, fireworks, dances, and parties were things she thought about constantly, her only source of inspiration coming from stories that the soldiers would tell her when she was little.


    Iridianna was older now, though. Time for her to leave and make her own way in life was approaching, faster than either her or her dad were ready for. That night, Iridianna sat at a simple table for two, her father rigid and controlled in how he ate his stew. All was silent for a few minutes, each simply sitting and eating, throwing an occasional glance at the other.


    Iridianna snorted at their cowardice. Or hesitation. ¡°I¡¯m leaving in a month.¡± She blurted out and went back to eating, ignoring the coughing fit it had sent her father into. She continued to cool a spoonful of stew while Brock looked to be dying.


    After a few breaths to regain control, Brock set his spoon down. ¡°No, you¡¯re not.¡± He looked her in the eyes, a protective instinct Iridianna had seen rise to the fore many times in her life. But she was nineteen now, three years older than when most moved out as adults. It was past time, in her mind.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t asking, daddy. I love you, but I want to go out and see the world. This fort has been my prison since birth, and it''s time I escape it. It''s difficult for me to find new inspiration now. That depresses me more than you can know.¡±


    Brock acted like he¡¯d been shot, ¡°Prison?... Iri, I¡¯ve tried my best for you. You know that! I¡¯ve tried my hardest to make this feel more like a home than a fort, and I¡¯ve spared no expense! That hurts¡­¡±


    Iridianna just held up a hand, ¡°Stop it, daddy. I know you¡¯ve tried, and that''s the only reason I didn¡¯t sneak out in the night at sixteen. But I can¡¯t tolerate it anymore. Also, I¡¯m older now. Most move out when they become ready for magic, and I¡¯ve been ready for three years. It''s time¡­¡±


    Brock just hung his head, wanting to think but unable to. Iridianna wanted to comfort him, but there were no words of comfort to offer. She still loved him, and she would visit, but she couldn¡¯t let herself continue to be stunted by her father¡¯s overprotective ways.


    Iridianna waited for a few minutes before she just patted her father¡¯s shoulder as she stood to leave, ¡°I¡¯ll still visit, daddy, and I still love you just as much as I did years ago. But I¡¯m a woman now. I have to take responsibility for my own life and actions. Goodnight.¡±


    Iridianna was one step away when a hand caught her forearm. She turned to see her father looking her in the eye, a complex dance of emotions within. But the strongest among them was resolve. ¡°I understand¡­ I don¡¯t like it, but I understand. I left home at 15, and I experienced a lot I wasn¡¯t ready for. I just didn¡¯t want the same for you. But, I learned a lot, and made many memories¡­ I won¡¯t force you to stay, but I also won¡¯t let you walk away from me unprepared. I¡¯ll give you some training and a facet.¡±


    Iridianna went to protest, but Brock simply held a firm, halting hand up, ¡°I know it''s tradition to gather your own facets, but I won¡¯t let you walk away with only a rough. You¡¯ll have one facet and two powers, and then I¡¯ll be as ready as I¡¯ll ever be for the day you leave on your own.¡±


    Iridianna just stared into her father¡¯s eyes for a minute, and she noticed this was not something he would be moved on. She sighed and smiled, her father¡¯s decision, however anti-tradition, made her feel loved. She hugged him and hurried back to her room, where there was a mannequin she had gotten one of the other soldiers to sneak in without her father knowing. On it, a half-made outfit was draping across it.


    Iridianna just smiled widely as she thought about the comments people were going to make about it, since anyone with a mind for ¡°normal¡± fashion would call it ¡°garish¡± or ¡°attention-seeking.¡± But Iridianna didn¡¯t care, as she gazed at the impressive spectrum of colors that even the incomplete piece displayed. There were reds, yellows, greens, blues, blacks, whites, and all the other colors that dye could be found in, and even some after that, only possible due to user¡¯s powers. She reached for another bolt of cloth sitting on the floor next to it, which was of a color yet to be added to the cloth. She chuckled as she got to work, finding ways to add more colors and design intricacies to the clothes.


    ¡­


    Kosetsu sat at a table in Tennessee, USA, eating a cheeseburger. Any who saw him were immediately uninterested, because absolutely nothing about him was unusual. He had a slight, but not horrible, slouch, plain clothes, unimpressive physique, and slightly tired eyes. But any who knew the man, if he could even be called that, would be on edge. He was not only one of the Calamities, but the Defector as well. That was a recent title, though, and one that didn¡¯t circulate in mortal dialect.


    A woman sat across from him, a polar opposite. She was a thing of beauty, style, and genes. She turned heads for more reasons than most would think possible, and that was when Kosetsu really got seen. Chuckling, Kosetsu put his half-eaten burger down and wiped his hands of the crumbs. ¡°Greetings, Sukun. I would never have expected you to be the first to reach me.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you did expect me. No games, Shatter. Why did you let me find you?¡± Sukun asked, keeping emotion from her voice. She wasn¡¯t going to give anything away until the Defector answered her.


    Kosetsu smiled ruefully and shook his head, ¡°Sharp as ever. Truthfully, I need you, Sukun¨C¡±


    ¡°Stillness. I¡¯ve never approved of your naming convention, Shatter.¡± She said testily.


    Kosetsu grinned, his asian features becoming more pronounced. ¡°Forgive me, Stillness. As I was saying, I need you. You won¡¯t need to do much more than your job to help me out, and I¡¯m sure there is something I can do for you in turn?¡±


    Sukun snorted and turned her nose up as the proposition, ¡°Why would, or should, I help you. You have abandoned your duties, and trillions have already died unduly for it. Why shouldn¡¯t I call Ruin here immediately, have you Scoured, and return the world to how it was before?¡±


    Kosetsu laughed, Sukun glaring sharper at him for it. ¡°Dear, you won¡¯t do that because you are about to hear why I¡¯m doing the things I¡¯ve done. Trust me, the lives spent in this endeavor will save many more in the future, I assure you.¡±


    Sukun eyed him warily, ¡°What is this lofty goal, then?¡±


    Kosetsu leaned in, ¡°Allow me to share in detail.¡±


    ¡­


    In a library hall that seemed to stretch forever in both directions, a humanoid figure stood in front of one of the two infinite shelves. The book they had strapped to their side shook, and the figure moved for the first time since the birth of the New Reality.


    ¡°Oh?¡± They said, setting the book they had been reading before back on the shelf, looking closer at the book on their hip. It vibrated, pulling against the simple leather straps that kept it bound to the figure. They simply reached down and undid each buckle, grabbing the book. The figure opened it, noticing all the writing having disappeared.


    The figure was surprised, something that had happened on three counts. This marked the fourth. All that they had ever learned was in that book, recorded meticulously. Now it was gone. But they weren¡¯t unhappy. In fact, they were pleased. Something unique was afoot, and this was just one of many echoes signaling a change in the Reality. They released their hold on the book, and it flew away faster than light itself.


    The figure looked after it for a moment, then returned to what they were doing before the Fourth Surprise.

 Chapter 1: Crazy

    Enoch yawned as he awoke, stretching in the light of the sun. The dew felt nice on his skin, and he rolled in it. The grass felt perfectly cut, as if trimmed with scissors every few hours.


    But something wasn¡¯t right. Enoch, eyes still closed, scrunched his eyebrows as he considered what could be wrong. Perhaps he¡¯d left the lights on in the kitchen? The power bill each month was inexorable in its growth towards breaking his bank account. But, Enoch shook his head lightly, remembering having turned the lights off before bed. What was wrong, then?


    Enoch yawned and tried to roll on his stomach in the cool grass, but his comfort was halted when he rolled onto what felt like a stone footpath. Blearily, Enoch opened his eyes, unprepared for the immediately wrong mental stimulus that blue grass gave him.


    ¡°What the¡­¡± He muttered, pushing himself to his knees, looking around. Alarm bells were starting to go off faster and more numerous than Enoch could handle. The grass is teal? The trees too? I¡¯m inside a courtyard? Who¡¯s? What¡¯s with the dual suns? What the hell is happening to me?!?!


    Enoch stumbled to his feet, his body not as torn from sleep as his mind. Enoch then noticed the crown jewel of his problems: he was naked as the day he was born, and balder than even then. Enoch let loose a whimper as he felt the lack of hair on his head and cloth on his hips. Whipping his head around to check for possible observers of his lack of modesty, Enoch noticed a few things that stood out, even from the already unique situation he found himself in. First, there were clearly humans around here, though maybe not at the moment. The designs of everything were, while alien to any culture Enoch had ever known, still human in intended use.


    Second was the location of the courtyard itself.  Enoch was in the dead center of it, and was surrounded by four walls, with shaded walkways along the entire perimeter. It had many flowers and shrubs, but the strangest thing was the color of everything. There were many different colors, but the only change from the normal of note was that all the stuff that would normally be green was now teal. Grass, leaves, stalks, and vines were all cyan and teal now. It was baffling to Enoch, and that was even after he¡¯d noticed the highly colorful flowers, which didn¡¯t seem possible to find in nature.


    Third, and arguably least important, was his condition. Enoch felt like he could lift a car, and not just from the adrenaline. It genuinely felt like he was superhuman. That was just his body though, as his mind was struggling to hold itself together.


    ¡°I need a game plan¡­¡± he muttered, looking around for a plan. Maybe the person that lived in the house would understand what was happening and help out? Enoch couldn¡¯t really think of much beyond that. The possibility he¡¯d been kidnapped crossed through his mind, but was quickly discarded. The area was just too unreal for it to be earth, which led to another point of contention in Enoch¡¯s mind: how the hell had he gotten where he was? It wasn¡¯t a dream, that much he was certain of.


    Enoch decided his best bet was to simply approach the resident of the house and ask for help and information. As he took the first step along the path, Enoch cringed at his nudity. Covering it with his hand, he simply walked up to the door and knocked on it three times. After several minutes, and several attempts, a voice came from the other side of the door, ¡°Yes? Is that you, Mr. Sharingway?¡±


    The source of the voice didn¡¯t get farther than that as they opened the door, freezing at the sight of a naked, bald man standing there. Enoch only stood still for a split second though, sent reeling by the appearance of his greeter. It was an otter. An honest-to-god otter, dressed in butler clothes and wearing a monocle, speaking perfect English. Enoch didn¡¯t know what to make of it, instead stumbling back and forgetting the image of modesty he had tried to maintain.


    With a shout, Enoch tripped over his own feet, landing hard and hitting his head. He blacked out.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡­


    Coulter stood in the doorway, still stunned. A stark naked man had somehow snuck into the courtyard, done something with Mr. Sharingway, then scared himself into unconsciousness by merely looking at Coulter. It was strange, and Coulter was thinking as hard as he could to determine what he should do. More importantly, how to treat this unintended guest. Perhaps Mr. Sharingway was a prankster? In that case, it would be wise to treat the man well.


    Coulter sighed and began to clean his face, a habit passed down through the family genes when they got nervous. He considered just leaving him there, washing his hands of the matter, but that seemed like a good way to be reprimanded by his employer.


    After another few moments of deliberation, Coulter looked back at the man and noticed for the first time a slowly-growing pool of blood under his head. Panicking, Coulter reached out, red energy flowing out from his hand and towards the prone man. The bleeding stopped, and the damage was healed, but he remained asleep. Coulter just raised his hand, causing Enoch to rise off the ground and start hovering after Coulter, who had begun to walk through the house again.


    ¡­


    Enoch stirred from sleep, only he was in a bed this time. The sheets were soft, the pillows supple, and the bed supportive. But the stress returned like the tide. Enoch sat up in the bed, looking around. He was in what seemed to be a guest room, only tasteful. There were paintings on the wall, the theme of the room was very natural, containing many earth tones and wood colors. The drapes were deep red, staining the room a dim crimson. The floor was hardwood, though many carpets were placed about.


    Enoch swung his feet off the bed, noticing his clothed form. They were linen pajamas, and a silk shirt. ¡°Who clothed me¡­ It couldn¡¯t have been the otter, right?¡± Enoch shook his head, walking over to the windows. Pulling aside a curtain, Enoch peered outside.


    Floating islands dotted the skyline, with some barely off the ground and others higher than some clouds. Enoch¡¯s breath was taken away at the view. There were waterfalls both falling and rising from some of the islands, the dual suns reflected by them. The flora was mostly of the cyan and teal that he¡¯d been introduced to in the garden, though far more abundant. For a brief moment, Enoch considered if maybe this was a dream. It certainly felt like a mix of reality and fantasy.


    Enoch was pulled from his reverie when a knock came from the door to the room. He walked over and pulled the door open, managing himself far better when the otter showed up a second time. He was standing there, one hand behind his back, the other at a ninety degree angle, a white towel draped over it. The jarring butler-look of the otter still had Enoch reeling internally.


    ¡°Good morning sir. I am glad to see you have returned to your senses. The master of the house wishes to take breakfast with you and discuss your presence here, and Mr. Sharingway¡¯s disappearance.¡± The otter spoke in a european accent, and Enoch nodded dumbly. ¡°Very good. If you would follow me?¡± He stepped aside, gesturing to turn left out the door.


    Enoch nearly began walking when he snapped back into reality. ¡°Whoa, whoa¡­ Sorry, everything¡¯s going so crazy I¡¯m having trouble even knowing what to do. What are you? And where am I?¡±


    The otter seemed taken aback, which made Enoch wonder how he could even read the expression of the otter so effortlessly. ¡°I am Coulter Pringleworth, sir. I am a proud member of the family, and I would ask you to not ask such rude questions again.¡± He did a little sniffle Enoch found adorable, but also knew to be a sign of an offense. ¡°And where are we, you ask? We are in the Fist of Aordia.¡±


    ¡°... Its probably best if I talk with the other guy. This seems like a discussion that needs chairs and time.¡± Enoch said while rubbing his forehead. Coulter nodded and gestured again to the left of the door. As Enoch was guided through the halls, he was impressed. The art was strangely comforting to look at, which was strange since he had always thought paintings were overpriced. But, now, he felt they had a lot of value. They spoke of both the differentiating and uniting factors of humanity. Things all found beautiful, and things only a select few favored.


    Coulter stopped at a door, opening it and gesturing inside. ¡°The master is inside. He likes to introduce himself. Please be as polite as you can, and enjoy your meal.¡± Coulter bowed shallowly and excused himself, returning back from where they came from. Enoch looked after him only for a moment, only now realizing a nascent connection he¡¯d formed to the otter-man.


    ¡°Well, time to meet another new-person.¡± Enoch walked into the room, trying to appear confident.

 chapter 2: Q&A

    Enoch was put on edge. Not like he was in danger or anything, but more akin to when one walked into a car dealership and a salesman of dubious intentions approached, all amiability and smiles.


    That was the kind of vibe he was getting from the man sitting on one side of the table he was walking towards. That stood out even more than the fact his skin had what looked like sapphires studded all about it, a larger one on his forehead.


    As Enoch got close to the table, the man stood and reached a hand out in a hand shake, his smile vibrant. It put Enoch off even more, though logic and morals told him to greet the man with respect for multiple reasons. He reached out and took the man¡¯s hand, noting the powerful grip. ¡°Greetings, I am Ripley House. What¡¯s your name, if I may?¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°I¡¯m Enoch Aadland, and I wish I could say it''s nice to meet you, though that would be a bold-faced lie. Coulter said we could talk about what¡¯s going on?¡± He looked at the table, where a far-too-great amount of food sat. Well, for two people it was too much, but it seemed inappropriate for this Ripley guy to invite others.


    Ripley gestured at the previously unoccupied seat while taking his own, ¡°Take a seat, Mr Aadland. I want to start with a string of questions of my own, since I still don¡¯t know if you¡¯re an intruder or a victim of some odd displacement incident.¡±


    Ruefully, Enoch nodded, ¡°Of course. I don¡¯t know how much I can answer though. I don¡¯t know too much.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s fine. To start, why are you here? Coulter found you naked in the courtyard, so I¡¯m at a loss as to your intentions.¡±


    Enoch chuckled, ¡°Intentions? I was¨Cam, trying to figure out what¡¯s going on. Last I remember, I was in my bed playing games and getting ready for bed. I fell asleep, then woke up in that courtyard, naked, bald, and surrounded by strange teal grass.¡±


    Ripley furrowed a brow, ¡°What¡¯s strange about teal grass?¡±


    Enoch looked incredulous, ¡°What isn¡¯t weird about teal grass? Where I come from, the standard color for plants is green. Something to do with absorbing a specific wavelength of light or something.¡±


    ¡°Well, you must be from far away then. Off-continent?¡±


    Enoch snorted, ¡°No, definitely not. I¡¯m no master at naming countries, but I know the shape of the world like the back of my hand. I also know physics and anatomy, and all of them are telling me I¡¯ve either gone loopy or I¡¯m on a different world. Speaking of that, what are you? Are you human?¡± Enoch figured it was rude to ask, but excused himself on account of circumstance.


    Ripley raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m no human, but a studkin. That¡¯s common knowledge.¡±


    Enoch chuckled mirthlessly, ¡°Not so common where I¡¯m from. Only humans are there.¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°I suppose you don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on then. You wouldn¡¯t happen to know a man named Ralkar Sharingway, would you? He was in the courtyard just before you were found, and now he is missing. I don¡¯t know if he ran away, summoned you, or was some alternate personality of yours that transformed untimely.¡±


    Enoch¡¯s eyes widened, ¡°Is that a thing that happens? I mean, it definitely isn¡¯t happening to me, because I¡¯ve lived on Earth my entire life. But that would be pretty crazy.¡±


    Ripley sighed, ¡°Not common, no. But it is a thing. Certain powers have effects like that, coming with equally powerful boons. But you don¡¯t seem to be in possession of any facets, let alone powers.¡±


    Enoch raised a hand, ¡°Sorry, did you say powers? Like, take off in flight, or gain super speed?¡±


    Ripley chuckled, ¡°You must truly be ignorant to ask a question like that. And to not lie either¡­ Well, powers are something most people have. Some folks who are very poor might not have any, and even then it is either a product of stubbornness or logic. Common facets can be found if one explores their local area enough. Might take a year or two, but they¡¯ll get one.¡±


    ¡°Right, what¡¯s a facet? And you didn¡¯t explain what powers are.¡±


    ¡°Ah, facets are the medium through which we sapient races gain brilliance and magic, progressing ourselves to the best we can be. Well, that¡¯s what I¡¯d like to believe. Most people simply use them like tools for power. And powers are the most common form of, well, power. I, for example, have a power that lets me conjure a sword.¡± He held out his hand, palm upward. Cloth ribbons came from his skin, all sorts of different colors, and bound themselves in the shape of a sword, knots every few inches or so along where a blade would be. Crystals developed around the knots, turning the weapon from a cloth mimic to an innovative design on a sword. Enoch stared in awe as the sword sat in Ripley¡¯s hand, unable to think about anything except how it might have been possible.


    Ripley waved his sword around, the whole thing acting like something between a ribbon and a whip, the crystal bits not behaving quite like they should have. ¡°It''s one of my better known powers. I like to keep most of them a secret, but this one isn¡¯t really feasible to hide. To answer your question, this is a power. There are more, like spells, passives, presence powers, flight, and all sorts of wacky things.¡±


    Pulled from his reverie, Enoch looked at Ripley with distracted eyes, ¡°Do I have powers too?¡±


    Ripley held up a hand, ¡°Easy there. I¡¯ll explain all you want later. Answer some of my questions first. What is earth, why are you here, and do you know who I am, by reputation?¡±


    ¡°Well, earth is the planet I¡¯m from, I have no clue why I¡¯m here, and all I know about you is that you¡¯re Ripley House, you own a big house, and you employ an odd butler. Oh! You¡¯re also a studkin.¡±


    Ripley looked relieved. ¡°Well, I  don¡¯t really have too many questions if you really don¡¯t know why you¡¯re here. Well, I have one. What¡¯s your plan? As in, what is your goal now? Find a way home, maybe?¡±


    Enoch paused at that. Thoughtfully, he turned his eyes up and considered it. Did he want to go home? Well, yeah, obviously. ¡°Yeah, I want to go home. I¡¯ve not really got anything crazy going on there, but I have family and friends that I care about. Now that I think about it, my family is probably going to get scared when they find me missing. I don¡¯t like the thought of that.¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°Aye, that isn¡¯t something I would wish on any parent. But crossing worlds, if that really is what you¡¯ve done, isn¡¯t something I¡¯m familiar with at all, and, not to be a braggart, I¡¯ve spoken with Diamonds. In my many conversations with high-grades, nothing about different worlds has ever come up. Finding a way back to your world might be difficult.¡±


    Enoch sighed. ¡°Well, that¡¯s just how it is, then¡­¡± Enoch had his mouth half-opened to ask for advice when the door opened, an entourage of serving staff entering the room, holding plates, bowls, and platters. Enoch stiffly waited as they all deposited the dishes with what could only be called a dancer¡¯s grace, Coulter seeming to direct them from his position at the door. The servers all left in a line, Coulter bowing and stepping out behind them and closing the door.


    ¡°Well,¡± Enoch said. ¡°That was something. You have servants?¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°Yes, that¡¯s normal. I pay them well, if that is what you are concerned with.¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Enoch shook his head, ¡°No, it just confuses me is all. The idea of serving someone else is pretty outdated where I¡¯m from. The idea is just uncomfortable to me.¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°Interesting. Well, I employ them at a fair wage, and they gain more than just money by serving me. While employees are the norm here, servants have their place. For example, most of my servants are fully faceted, but have reached their limit in terms of growth. I¡­ well, suffice it to say they gain more benefits with the position of a servant rather than employee. Coulter, for example, is something between a servant and employee. I would never treat him like a servant, but he treats me as his master. It''s a staple of the Pringleworth lineage, and it has served them all well.¡±


    ¡°Eh, I guess that¡¯s what happens when you visit a crazy new world. Anyways, I was about to ask, but where do I even start? I mean, I want to go home, and if what you said is true, then it might take a while to find my way back. Do I get a job? Am I even able to get magic powers? If I am, how will I be treated once I return to earth?¡±


    Ripley chuckled, ¡°You¡¯re thinking too far ahead.¡± He took a small bite of some egg-looking dish. Enoch tried the same thing, wary at first but quickly picking up the pace once he tasted the dish. It was like quail eggs with a deep, rich blend of spices. ¡°You need to find a way home, so you need to find a thread related to world travel. How do you think you should approach that problem?¡±


    Enoch finished his first plate, considering. He didn¡¯t know anything about the economy of this world, and money or goods was something all societies had in common, so a job of some sort was on the table in some fashion. He needed to get in touch with a wide variety of people, so maybe a contractor of sorts? ¡°I think I should take a job as some form of contractor, probably for something that caters more toward influential people. Easier said than done, though. That¡¯s got to be a small market.¡±


    Ripley grinned, the shiftiness on full display. ¡°Good reasoning, but you got one thing wrong.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡±


    ¡°It isn¡¯t a small market. In fact, it is one of the biggest markets in the entire world.¡± Ripley said, looking like he was enjoying himself.


    Enoch furrowed his brow, ¡°It can¡¯t be that easy. What are you talking about?¡±


    Ripley pulled something from inside his coat pocket. A badge was there, gold with a yellowish-orange gem studding the center of it. ¡°I¡¯m talking about state mercenary work, Mr. Aadland.¡±


    Enoch frowned, ¡°I don¡¯t mean to cast judgment too early here, but where I¡¯m from, mercenaries have always been real pieces of work, generically. They do the dirty work that governments can¡¯t do openly.¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°Yeah, that sounds like a private mercenary. There¡¯s a big difference between state and private mercenaries. PM¡¯s, as we call them, work for individuals, and there isn¡¯t much regulation on them. They have badges, like us state mercs, but there isn¡¯t a screening process, a ranking system, or even a regulatory law regarding levels of work assignment.¡±


    ¡°Why would anyone be a private mercenary then? It sounds like something only shady people with something to hide would do, if there isn¡¯t any screening going on.¡± Enoch asked, curious.


    ¡°Mm, well, the reason, Mr. Aadland¨C¡±


    ¡°Just call me Enoch.¡±


    ¡°Well, the reason, Enoch, is that PM¡¯s make a substantially larger amount of money than state mercs, on average. Good state mercs will still out-earn a middle-of-the-pack private mercenary, though.¡±


    Enoch tilted his head to the side, ¡°What do state mercenaries even do, though? Private wars? Bounty collection?¡±


    Ripley shook his head, sliding a platter of light pastries in front of him. He offered one to Enoch, ¡°Bounties isn¡¯t inaccurate. The state mercenary office has scouts who¡¯s whole job is to find monsters and criminals. The office posts these, as well as some other matters in their office, and state mercs go in and pick some jobs. In return for completion, you get money and sometimes more exotic or esoteric rewards.¡±


    ¡°Wait, monsters? Is Coulter a monster? That doesn¡¯t seem right. Strange as he looks, he seems like a good fella.¡±


    Ripley frowned, ¡°Coulter is a Pringleworth, one of the last remaining pure Animus Houses. They are famed and respected world-wide, so be careful how you talk about them in public. There is no shortage of fools who think that beating up someone who disrespects the Pringleworths will gain them favor. I know that you ask in ignorance, so this is just a friendly warning.¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Sorry. But I¡¯m right, though?¡±


    ¡°Yes. The Animus Houses are a highly guessed-about part of history. They aren¡¯t monsters, I can assure you of that. Monsters are beings formed of pure brilliance and magic. They have false souls, which gives them form. It''s complicated, but suffice it to say that they are a problem. Mercs like me take care of them. If you excel, it''s a great way to meet many powerful and interesting people. That could help you out.¡±


    Enoch shook his head, ¡°It sounds interesting, but I¡¯m not really a fighter at heart. Any other suggestions?¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°A few come to mind, but none are quite as good. You could become a scout, though that would take a fair bit of money to get facets and aspects suited to the work. The danger element wouldn¡¯t be gone entirely, but it would be greatly diminished. You could also try and become a local bigshot¡¯s assistant or something, though that avenue is almost more difficult than reaching diamond.¡±


    Enoch shook his head at the unfamiliar lingo, ¡°Scout work¡­ I don¡¯t know. Still sketched out by it. This all leads me to a very important question: how long until I have to leave? I would like to be polite and leave as soon as possible, but I have no clue where I am, what I¡¯m doing, and have not one cent to my name. I hope you understand why I want to stay here, around you, for as long as you¡¯ll let me. I need to learn some things.¡±


    Ripley chuckled, finishing his pastry. ¡°It depends. I¡¯ll let you stay for a few more days, and I¡¯ll teach you the basics when I have the time. After that, I¡¯ll need something in return.¡±


    Enoch smiled, ¡°Great, thanks. I don¡¯t really know what I can do for you, but I¡¯ll definitely be earnest. Thanks for breakfast, by the way.¡±


    ¡°Certainly. Now, Coulter will take you back to the guest room. I¡¯ll have some clothes sent for you, and you can chat with Coulter while I prepare some materials to help you out.¡± Ripley stood up and gestured for Enoch to do the same. ¡°Coulter isn¡¯t quite as adept a teacher as myself, but he certainly is knowledgeable. See what you can learn from him.¡± Ripley nodded and left through the door Enoch had come through. Coulter was silently standing there, looking at Enoch.


    ¡°Please follow me, Mr. Aadland. I will take you to your temporary lodgings and fetch your clothes.¡± The otter bowed slightly, and Enoch did the same, feeling awkward being bowed at. Coulter ignored the awkward atmosphere and turned on his little otter paw, walking back towards the room Enoch had woken up in.


    Enoch was silent the way back. What did he need to know that would help him gain his bearings? What was used as money here, and what was its value? Enoch was making a list of important questions, and its first victim would be Coulter.


    ¡°Here we are. The master has asked me to stay and answer your questions until the garments arrive. I await your queries.¡± Coulter said as he opened the door and stepped to the side of the doorframe, right outside the room.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Enoch said while going inside. ¡°You can come in here and take a seat. I have a lot of questions, and it¡¯ll probably take a while for the clothes to get here.¡±


    Coulter nodded, coming inside and taking a seat at one of the chairs. Enoch sat across from him. ¡°Well, Coulter, I have a pretty lengthy list of questions. Let¡¯s get started, huh? First up, what are facets and aspects? Ripley mentioned them a few times, and I know powers come from facets, but that still doesn¡¯t answer what they are. Also, what are diamonds? He spoke of them like they were people.¡±


    ¡°The master will show them to you when you meet him again. Preliminarily, though, facets are what determine the scope of one¡¯s abilities. For example, a common combination is fire, water, earth, and cycle. The people in possession of these facets possess those respective powers, and if done right, they all have excellent synergy. And diamonds are gem-users who have reached diamond rank, the highest rank.¡±


    ¡°What criteria are there for this ranking system? And what are the benefits?¡±


    Coulter chuckled, ¡°The criteria are quite simple: reach diamond rank. There are six ranks, 4 tones in each rank. People who first gain their facets are Jet rank, 1st tone. After progressing in power, they would become a Jet rank, 2nd tone. After the 4th tone, they would jump to Garnet rank, 1st tone. This repeats up to Diamond rank, 4th tone.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so it''s more just a name for the different ranks of strength? How does that work? Strength isn¡¯t exactly set and specifically rankable where I¡¯m from.¡±


    ¡°It''s a matter of quality of brilliance. As your rank increases, so too does the quality of your gem. This comes with a slew of benefits: greater capacity, more strength, significant negation of lower-ranked damage, and increased lifespan. Some people¨C¡±


    ¡°Did you say increased lifespan?¡± Enoch interrupted.


    Coulter nodded, ¡°Yes. Jet humans live to about 100, if they don¡¯t die to a monster or something. The increments by which lifespan increases are really only big after Topaz rank. Those people live upwards of a thousand years old. Then the Diamonds, they live forever. No lifespan.¡±


    Enoch leaned back in his chair, considering how that would work. ¡°Wow¡­ I know I¡¯ve seen flying islands and honest-to-goodness magic today, but that has got to be the biggest doozy of a discovery yet. I mean, power isn¡¯t a foreign concept to me, just fantastical. But immortality? I mean, that¡¯s the kind of thing that drove men to madness, some even starting wars over rumors of it.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t feel so ignorant then, because it is much the same here, only it is not fantasy, but fact they fight for. So much blood has been spilled in the name of immortality¡­ Well, that was long ago, and there are laws in place now that have properly powerful individuals to back them up. Small stuff still pops up, but that is simply the nature of man and life.¡±


    ¡°You know, that brings up another question. How powerful is a Diamond rank person?¡±


    Coulter shrugged, ¡°I have no clue. The most significant feat of power I¡¯ve ever seen was performed by a Ruby ranker. He was in the midst of a fight with a Kraken, when a stray meteorite was about to crash nearby. What was about to be a significant test to the Orbital Defense Array turned into the Ruby¡¯s fortune. He caught the meteor, swung it in a circle, then threw it at the Kraken. And since he had infused brilliance into the meteor, all the destructive power of the meteor was focused on the Kraken, rather than harming the planet. I¡¯d imagine Diamonds can stomp hard enough to shake the world. Some fools say that is the cause of earthquakes, but that is pure fiction.¡±


    Enoch turned an incredulous look on Coulter, ¡°A meteor? He caught a whole meteor? And used it?¡±


    ¡°Yes. It was quite something.¡±


    Enoch scoffed, ¡°Quite something? Man, that defies both common sense and what should be allowed by physics. I have so many questions.¡±


    Coulter sighed, Enoch sensing the personability of the otter coming through as they began to know each other more. ¡°Yes, well, I¡¯ve been tasked with answering them all. Ask away.¡±

 Chapter 3: Facets 101

    ¡°Did Coulter answer a lot of your more mundane questions?¡± Ripley asked while sitting in front of a table which housed a wide variety of wacky items. Enoch walked up to them, looking the menagerie over.


    A humongous gemstone sat at the fore, and Enoch gawked at it, ¡°It''s huge!¡± Enoch grabbed it and picked it up, looking it all over. It was sky blue, with white mist swirling about in the top of the gem. Enoch tipped it this way and that, the white mist always finding the top. It was mesmerizing.


    Ripley nodded, amused by Enoch¡¯s reaction, ¡°That, Mr. Aadland, is a facet. One of the more rare sky facets. Collecting them is something of a hobby of mine.¡±


    Enoch reluctantly tore his eyes from the gem, ¡°How much do these things cost? A fist sized gem like this¡­ I don¡¯t even know how expensive it would be where I come from.¡±


    Ripley held his hands like a scale, bobbing them up and down off-beat. ¡°Facets have recently become a commodity for sale, but up until about ten years ago, they were really without a price. The culture is that you should go out and gather your own facets. You know, earn them and know more about the environment that birthed them.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so these things, what, just spontaneously burst into existence? That sounds far-fetched, even with all I¡¯ve seen so far. I mean, would a sky facet like this just spawn in mid-air, conking whoever is unlucky enough to be underneath it?¡±


    Ripley laughed, ¡°Yes, actually. There have been a few cases of injuries due to fallen facets that take higher-elevated concepts.¡±


    Enoch shook his head disbelievingly, ¡°I actually want to see one form, now. Have you?¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°I have. There''s a flash, blinding even to a Topaz like me. The light dims, some swirly bits coalesce into a glowing orb, then a period of time passes where the phenomena inside is gaining form and concept. Sometimes it''s a facet, though it''s mostly either an aspect or a monster.¡±


    ¡°An aspect is what you use to gain powers, right? Outside of the one you gain from taking a facet.¡±


    ¡°Aye, and they are like Crown Facets in that they always embody ethereal concepts.¡±


    Enoch eyed Ripley suspiciously, ¡°Wouldn¡¯t the sky count as ethereal? I mean, you can¡¯t really touch it.¡±


    ¡°You might consider taking a job as a gemologist. Those are the questions they spend all day answering. For a layman like myself, I say it''s pretty simple to determine if something is ethereal or material: can you go to it, wield it, or touch it. If yes, then its material, if no, ethereal. You can go to the sky, and you can look at it. Even if you can¡¯t touch it, so to speak, it is something that exists with definition and location. Happiness is ethereal, which should explain itself.¡±


    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Enoch muttered while looking over the rest of the items. ¡°Is this an aspect?¡± He asked as he pointed at a disk with an emblem inside. It shifted between looking like a flexed arm, then a metal ingot, then an elephant.


    Ripley grabbed it and stared as he spoke, ¡°Yes. A strength aspect. What do you see inside it?¡± He held it up perpendicular to Enoch¡¯s eyes, and the emblems were on display again.


    ¡°I see a flexed arm, metal bar, and an elephant.¡± Enoch said. ¡°Don¡¯t you see the same?¡±


    Ripley grinned, ¡°Nope. That¡¯s one of the cooler parts of aspects, in my opinion. Everyone interprets them differently. When I look at this, I see a sword and shield, a dragon, and a diamond. I don¡¯t even know what an elephant is, but you associate it with strength.¡±


    Enoch smiled, the feeling refreshing. ¡°That is pretty neat. Do you have any more?¡±


    Ripley nodded, pulling a bag from his feet. ¡°Yeah, I do. I also collect aspects, and they make a great conversation piece in my opinion.¡± He pulled two more of the glossy disks from the bag. To Enoch they had emblems that looked like the symbol for wavelength and another for a foot in stride. ¡°They¡¯re vibe and stride aspects. They¡¯re pretty rare, and I think they offer some of the more interesting results for emblems.¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Yeah, those are pretty weird¡­ Say, where would an aspect like those even form? Nothing really comes to mind.¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Ripley held up the vibe aspect, ¡°This one I found in a drughouse I raided with my band some years ago,¡± he held up the stride aspect next, ¡°This one I found in Velocity, during the city¡¯s annual race. I was pretty close to having it snatched, but got it first, if barely. We had a bit of a wrestle, me and the guy who also tried to snag it, but I came out on top.¡±


    ¡°Huh, so the stride aspect just formed in front of you, from the concept of the event where everyone was running?¡± Enoch asked, intrigued.


    Ripley nodded, ¡°Yes. Brilliance manifestations aren¡¯t that rare in public. They are reduced, though, because most cities heavily control the ambient brilliance to not spawn monsters in the city.¡± He put the aspects back in the bag. ¡°Now, what do you want to know next?¡±


    ¡­


    Enoch had dragged a chair over not long after that started. He and Ripley sat there, talking about the world, which Enoch learned was called Praeda. He recalled from distant past lessons that was a latin word for quarry, which raised another question for him.


    As they sat there, the suns already having fallen over the edge of the world, replaced by a familiar-looking singular moon, Enoch breathed in the air already beginning to form dew. ¡°One last question before I¡¯m done bugging you for the night. Why is everything so focused on gems here? Facets, gems, roughs, brilliance, the ranks, tones, and all that. Is it a choice?¡±


    Ripley took a moment, breathing deep through his nose then letting it out slowly. ¡°Never thought about it. I suppose that¡¯s a perspective only an outsider can take. I mean, everything magical is related to gems, so they must be magical in concept, right?¡±


    Enoch was surprised. For the first time, Ripley was ignorant of something. Enoch shook his head, ¡°That can¡¯t be it. We have gems all over my world, and not one speck of magic. Is there anything that¡¯s particularly source-y sounding?¡±


    ¡°I suppose. There is the world-gem.¡± Ripley said off-handedly. Enoch gestured for him to go on. ¡°Ah, the world-gem. How could I forget? It is the core of our planet. All magic comes from it. Brilliance being the most recognized force, but there are others.¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Yep, that sounds like a source-of-all-magic type of thing. So how do you know it exists? There¡¯s no way people have dug that deep into the ground.¡±


    ¡°Actually, they have. Facets and powers made it pretty easy for a gracious Diamond to dig a shaft to the core. That happened long, long ago though. No records of it aside from the fact that that was how the Shaft got dug up.¡± Ripley shifted in his chair. ¡°It must be so strange for you here. The more I talk to you, the more I realize how little you know about this place. It probably seems obvious from an outside perspective, but I¡¯ve never thought to question a lot of the stuff you¡¯re asking about. Everyone has just grown up around it, not questioning it.¡±


    Enoch sighed, ¡°Well, I expect it would be the common reaction from people originating in another world. It¡¯d be pretty hard <i>not</i> to have an odd perspective, really.¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll bet. Anyways, that¡¯s enough for tonight. Tomorrow we¡¯ll go over local geography and a crash-course on making a living in this world. Coulter will show you to your room. You¡¯re free to roam the halls, but if a door is locked, do<i> not</i> try and check if the door is stuck or stubborn. The defense enchantments on some of them are likely to blow your hand off.¡±


    Enoch laughed despite the hefty warning, ¡°I¡¯m not nosy, so no worries. Do you think I could just stay in the courtyard for a while? Light pollution has made nights like these nearly impossible where I¡¯m from, and the added view of the island¡¯s waterfalls glimmering in the moonlight¡­ It brings me some peace.¡±


    Ripley stood and walked by Enoch, clapping a hand on his shoulder, ¡°No problem. Just have Coulter show you to your room so you don¡¯t need to keep him up so he can guide you there.¡±


    Enoch stood up, ¡°Fair enough. Where are we headed, Coulter?¡± He looked to the otter-man who seemed to appear out of the shadows.


    ¡°This way. We¡¯ll go slow so that you don¡¯t forget.¡± Coulter guided Enoch back to the guest room. When Coulter left, Enoch went back to the courtyard, where the only man-made object remaining was a chair. Somehow all the other stuff had disappeared. Enoch guessed it was the other servants.


    As he sat in the moonlight, Enoch reflected. His time on Praeda had been short so far, and not too action-packed, but it seemed so full of possibility. He considered if maybe this place wasn¡¯t so bad. The people he¡¯d met so far were friendly, and everything just seemed within grasp, with how Coulter and Ripley described the reaches personal power could make.


    As he stared up at the moon, Enoch felt moved. He placed a hand over his heart, feeling a hard lump press against his palm. Confused, he looked down and into his hand, where he had a small, uncut gem in his hand. If anything, it looked like glass, with a very slight green tint to it.


    But he was attached to it. Enoch curiously tumbled it around, looking at it from all angles. But there was no need in the end. Enoch could <i>feel</i> the stone. It was like how you could sense your limbs, only a lot stronger. There was nothing about the small gem he didn¡¯t understand, except for its origin. A little thought however dragged him back to the beginning of his talk with Ripley.


    ¡°A gem or rough, depending on if you have facets or not, is something all people possess. Well, maybe. I don¡¯t know if you have one. We¡¯ve never had a non-gem user appear from outside our world, so I don¡¯t even know if you have one. Regardless, a rough is what all people start with, and you add facets to it. Once you¡¯ve added three, a Crowning Facet will appear. Once you are fully faceted, you¡¯re rough is then called a gem. And don¡¯t be hasty when you choose facets; they aren¡¯t temporary.¡±


    Enoch smiled at the gem, a new line of thought birthed from the object which was an extension of his soul: Could he make this place his home?

 Chapter 4: Destiny?

    ¡°Well, I should probably get back¡­¡± Enoch muttered to himself. He¡¯d spent another couple of hours, just staring at the stars. They were so beautiful when there was no sprawling society full of lights to outshine their distant form.


    As he stood, Enoch nearly made it inside when he noticed it begin to grow bright. Confused, Enoch turned around, looking up. Streaks of golden light were gathering from all around in a vortex, high above the clouds. The energy, which was brilliance, as identified by Ripley earlier, spun into a progressively small vortex. As it formed, the courtyard was illuminated. He checked the windows and roof, but the light seemed to focus on the courtyard.


    ¡°Is it a manifestation? I thought he said those were rare¡­¡± Enoch said aloud. He walked to the center of the courtyard, directly underneath the vortex, which had become too small to see in the distance as anything but a tiny sun in the sky. As he watched, the stars in the backdrop of the orb seemed to grow brighter rather than dimmer, stars previously unseen glowing just bright enough that they appeared. More colors appeared in the sky, red, blue, white, gold, purple, green. Enoch¡¯s breath was taken away by the display.


    Enoch sat back down, simply staring at the sky, his previous sense of peace restored tenfold. He halfway expected Ripley to appear at the lightshow, but he either didn¡¯t notice or was watching from elsewhere.


    After around an hour, the moon struck its zenith, which seemed to be a trigger for the orb to implode. It disappeared, the stars retreating to their former brightness. Enoch laughed, quietly. Wonder was all he felt as the courtyard fell back into the moonlight. A moment later, a pinprick of gold appeared above. Rapidly, it was growing. Enoch blinked, then went wide-eyed as he dove to the right, remembering the seemingly ridiculous fact that people could get injured by spontaneously summoned magic rocks from the sky.


    Just in time, Enoch landed as he heard a tremendous clang from behind him. He got to his feet, turning to see the chair he¡¯d occupied having a molten hole in it. Beneath the chair, a small, dinner-plate sized crater had formed, a glowing rock inside. Well, gem. Wary of the heat, Enoch approached. Moving the chair aside, Enoch crouched next to it, holding a hand out for the heat. But it wasn¡¯t there.


    Enoch inched his hand forward, closer and closer to fell what had melted the iron chair. He got nothing. Taking a deep breath, Enoch decided to take a risk. He poked it. ¡°What the¡­¡± he said, grabbing the thing wholly. It was heavy, warm, and still bright, but nowhere near enough to melt metal. Enoch walked over to the chair and dropped the facet onto an undamaged part of the chair, which was pretty small considering the impact had warped it pretty good, making the whole thing look awkward. It melted right through.


    Enoch grabbed it again, this time getting a better look at it. What at first glance seemed like a solid golden gem was really like¡­ well, like gold glitter in golden liquid. It was strange. Within the golden light floated tiny white, purple, red, and blue motes, almost imperceptible. They were on the precipice of being completely outshone by the golden light.


    Lost in the gem, he jumped when a hand slapped his shoulder playfully. ¡°Whoa!¡± Enoch shouted, stumbling back from Ripley. The man just chuckled.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite a find. Do you know what it is?¡± Ripley asked, approaching as he looked the facet over. Enoch was stumped. Obviously it was a facet, but what kind? Light, maybe?


    Enoch shrugged, ¡°A light facet, maybe? Whatever it is, it''s pretty. And apparently destructive to things that aren¡¯t human.¡±


    Ripley shook his head, ¡°Wrong. That¡¯s a star facet. First one I¡¯ve ever seen, in fact. Also, it isn¡¯t just destructive to objects; people too.¡±


    Enoch furrowed his brow, looking from Ripley to the star facet. ¡°You¡¯re joking. It¡¯s warm, but not near enough to melt steel. Here, try holding it.¡± Enoch held it out.


    ¡°Hm, maybe¡­¡± He held out a finger, carefully poking out. When it touched the facet, a bright light flashed, causing Ripley to withdraw his finger with speed that caused Enoch¡¯s spine to go cold. Ripley was shaking the hurt hand, wincing, ¡°Holy¡­ Told you. Ah! That hurt¡­¡± Ripley stayed there nursing his wounded hand.


    Enoch blinked away the fear he felt, seeing the inhuman display of speed. He looked back at the facet, ¡°Why doesn¡¯t it burn me?¡±


    ¡°Any facet that comes from outside the atmosphere is strange. I didn¡¯t mention it, because cosmic facets are stupidly rare. I¡¯m almost certain this thing turning up has something to do with your appearance.¡± Ripley said, having gotten over the worst of the burn. He kept waving the finger slowly, cooling it down.


    ¡°Did it, like, choose me or something? Maybe because I¡¯m not from here?¡± Enoch asked.


    ¡°No, facets, however finicky, are not sentient. It might be that only people without a fully faceted gem can touch it. Maybe something to do with affinity. Whatever the reason, you can have it.¡± Ripley said.


    Enoch twisted his lips, ¡°... No, you should have it. Surely you have a way to store it, right? I mean, it spawned on your land, and I can¡¯t really offer anything else as payment. Besides, if I¡¯m not gonna be a mercenary, I don¡¯t really need it.¡±


    Ripley burst out laughing. It was genuine, which made Enoch frown. ¡°What¡¯s so funny? I want to show my appreciation, and you collect these, so surely its not that dumb.¡±


    Ripley shook his head, ¡°I appreciate the sentiment, but no. I won¡¯t take it. First off, I¡¯m a believer in destiny, and if a star facet that only you can touch, as far as we know, isn¡¯t a sign that you were destined for it, then I¡¯m clearly wrong about destiny. Also, facets are <i>far</i> from a ¡®mercenary¡¯s item.¡¯ They are used all across the board, by anyone who can get them. Most non-mercenaries who take facets use quartz dust, but they are certainly gem-users.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I guess I¡¯ll take it if that¡¯s the case.¡± Enoch nodded, staring at the facet. ¡°How do I use this thing? I mean, there isn¡¯t any downside to using it now, right?¡±


    Ripley shrugged, ¡°I can set up a ritual tomorrow. Until then, get some rest. And maybe thank the stars for their generosity!¡± He laughed during the last sentence. Enoch numbly nodded, heading back in the direction he¡¯d come from.


    He stuffed the facet in his pocket before he could stop himself, but the clothes didn¡¯t burst into flame. Sighing, Enoch took his time, meandering the halls as he made his way back to his room. The art was all similar, but never quite the same style. There were little emblems in the bottom right of each canvas, which seemed to be this world''s equivalent of signing it.


    Enoch eventually reached the foyer. He blinked, ¡°I must have passed my room.¡± Enoch walked over to the door, looking outside the two tall windows on either side of the doorframe. The moonlight was potent enough that Enoch could see the floating islands clearly. It was then that Enoch also realized Ripley¡¯s estate was, in fact, located on one of those floating islands. Just one of the lower ones.


    Enoch wanted to open the doors, but he didn¡¯t know if he was allowed to. ¡°He said if its locked don¡¯t touch it¡­ Well, it¡¯ll only be a moment.¡± Enoch easily convinced himself to try the door handle, and it opened without fanfare. Not even stopping Enoch walked outside, onto a small porch. Down the stairs and forward about thirty-five meters, the edge of the island ran to the left and right. Enoch walked over to the edge and looked down. He swooned, quickly stepping back. ¡°Woah,¡± he muttered, still shaking the unnerving feeling of looking down what had to be one-thousand meters.


    He felt good though, so Enoch sat down and scooched over to the ledge, dangling his feet off. After settling, Enoch faintly heard a rushing noise from the right. Over there was a waterfall, being fed by a small stream from the other side of Ripley¡¯s estate. Enoch smiled, turning back to the ground far beneath him. Far, far below, there were some lights all clustered in a circle. According to Ripley, that was Velocity, also known as Script City. It was interesting, seeing such a modern city from a fantastical point of view.


    Enoch pulled the star facet from his pocket, looking it over. ¡°I wonder if you¡¯d let me see the stars¡­¡± Enoch muttered. Unexpectedly, it answered. From the facet, a particular mote of light within began to grow. Enoch moved it closer to his eye, getting a better look at the growing light. It was golden, except somehow more golden than the light of the facet.


    ¡°Weird. Wait, is it coming towards me? Not again.¡± Enoch pulled his face away from the facet, where the golden light shot through the inner wall of the facet, stopping its mad dash. It just floated in front of the facet, bobbing.


    Enoch shook his head while staring at the light. How many times was he going to have something shot at his head? Since nothing had gone wrong so far, Enoch poked the light. As soon as he did, the thing popped up to the size of a book¡­ because it was a book. The golden light around it was sucked over the cover to the three open sides of the book, filtering between the pages and then remaining for a few seconds. Then, it faded, leaving Enoch holding an unchanged star facet in one hand, and a strange book sitting in his lap.Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°Could this day get any stranger? What¡¯s a book doing inside a facet?¡± Enoch put the facet back in his pocket, instead picking up the book. Flipping through the pages, Enoch squinted inconceivably at the blank pages. Not one bit of ink was inside.


    He flipped back to the front page, and noticed a line. Beneath the line were the words <i>Name?</i> Enoch wondered where he could get a pen from, and a golden quill poofed into existence next to the book.


    <i>Enoch Aadland</i>


    Enoch waited, assuming the magic book would react. After a moment, nothing changed. He flipped the page over and there was now a bunch of script there.


    <i>Enoch Aadland¡¯s Personal Journal.</i>


    <i>Facets: 0/4</i>


    <i>Powers: 0/24</i>


    <i>Inherent Powers: ?</i>


    <i>IP1: Spiritual Aegis</i>


    <i>IP2: Fate¡¯s Archive</i>


    Enoch stared at the book, uncomprehending. ¡°What are inherent powers?¡± He muttered.


    <i>Inherent powers are the three unique abilities all sapient users of magic have. All are different.</i>


    ¡°You answer questions? Sweet. What do my inherent powers do?¡±


    <i>Spiritual Aegis: You are immune to mind-altering effects. Extend the effect to others, though not retroactively, for a variable brilliance cost.</i>


    <i>Fate¡¯s Archive: The Book has found its second owner. It analyzes and consolidates information learned as well as information gleaned. One ritual can be saved within the Archive to be used at any time. Changing it requires you to go through a full time cycle. Note: ¡°I¡¯ve given you a few rituals to get you started. The first one you¡¯ll need is the Facet-Fusion ritual, which is ready to go. Yours truly, the prior owner of this book.¡±</i>


    Enoch frowned. A note was left for him, but by who? And how did they put a book inside a facet? And what were inherent powers? Enoch had so many more questions he knew he was going to need to ask Ripley to stay longer to learn more. Enoch decided to check one thing before he actually went to sleep for the night. He was about to go searching through the book for the ritual it spoke of, but the knowledge came to him easily. As simple as blinking, the Facet-Fusion ritual deployed like a net thrown by a pro fisherman from the book, going up in the air. Quickly it floated down, pressing itself into the ground, leaving a diagram on the ground looking to be made of liquid mercury.


    Enoch¡¯s power made him aware of what he needed to do. There were two obvious and empty circles on the ritual circle. One was in the middle, and Enoch was supposed to sit there. The other was at the front of the circle, on the very outer edge. Placing the star facet in that deposit, Enoch sat back in the spot for himself. He didn¡¯t need to do anything as the star facet shota few tendrils of golden energy to the circle it was within, then floated upwards to eye-level with Enoch. Enoch simply sat, uncomfortable at the building hum from the facet.


    Suddenly, the golden facet was drained of color, turning to gray dust moments later. Enoch nearly lunged to grab it, to see if it was broken. Before that, the golden energy traveled into the ritual circle, crawling along the diagram, splitting up and merging at odd intervals. It all slowly encroached on Enoch. When it reached him, Enoch felt it sink into his being. It crawled up his body and into his heart. Breaths came slow and shallow, and Enoch was gasping for breath. He clawed at his chest, and he tore his rough free, hoping that would solve the breathing problem.


    With the rough coming out of his chest, so too did a bundle of golden light surrounding it. It was swarming around the rough like a swarm of bees, and Enoch could breathe again. The light sunk fully into the rough, which looked different now. The bottom looked like one flat surface had been ground on the gem, and that one surface was golden with small motes of light within. The rest of the rough still looked like glass though.


    Enoch felt something from the Archive. He felt it gleaning information and storing it. Enoch nearly reached for the book sitting a few feet away from him when it poofed into his hand. The scene was jarring, but Enoch was learning to take it in stride. He opened the book to a new line of scrawl.


    <i>Star facet fused. First star power manifesting.</i>


    <i>SP1: Comet Steps.</i>


    <i>Jet: Step on the tails of comets once having passed there before you. Stepping on these tails makes you faster and enhances other movement abilities. These footholds can be called in the air for a significant brilliance expenditure.</i>


    Enoch read the description of the ability, but really it wasn¡¯t needed. Deep down, Enoch knew how to use the ability. It was like breathing, only completely different.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough for one day. Time for bed¡­¡± Enoch swung his feet back up and onto the island, turning and heading for the door. He tried to see if the door had a lock after he entered, but there wasn¡¯t a visible one. Figuring thievery wasn¡¯t a big problem, Enoch shrugged. As he made it back to his room, he took off his shoes and jumped into bed, throwing the Archive on the bedside table.


    ¡­


    Ripley shook his head, observing Enoch through his surveillance system. It wasn¡¯t often that something capable of blocking his perception came from someone without any facets. Not long after Enoch sat on the edge, Ripley¡¯s security went wacky, making him unable to observe Enoch. It wasn¡¯t anything creepy or malicious. In fact, Ripley¡¯s only selfish motivation was that maybe the man would unintentionally find or uncover clues about Sharingway¡¯s disappearance. Ripley decided the best decision to being cut off was to let it happen. Enoch wasn¡¯t aware, but Ripley was reading his emotions every time they had talked so far.


    ¡°Coulter, I don¡¯t know what happened specifically, but I imagine he¡¯ll want to tell us all about it tomorrow morning.¡±


    ¡­


    Bowen was at peace. He¡¯d already been up for a few hours by the time the dawn made itself known. Dew began to condense on his skin, and the fog in the air made the rays of the suns seem tangible. Bowen was seated on a fallen tree, a familiar seat he¡¯d been using for a year now. He sat and admired the beauty of his environs for a few more minutes, before he sighed and hopped to his feet.


    Walking over to a human-shaped collection of logs, held together by ritual magic and lots of nails. It was jabbed crudely into the ground. Bowen drew a wooden sword from a cloth ribbon tied around his waist. It had a small loop sewn in by his mother for his favorite practice sword.


    ¡°Hah!¡± Bowen struck the unsuspecting dummy with as much speed and suddenness as he could muster. Bowen had a hard time believing anyone could react to the attack. Well, anyone who didn¡¯t have facets. He stayed there for hours, his skin becoming wet with sweat after the dew had dried off of him. Bowen found that despite his violent practice, he found peace in his actions. It was strange, in Bowen¡¯s opinion. How could an art made for war and conflict bring a person peace?


    Bowen was about done, but he wanted to try something new. Stepping back, Bowen dropped to a knee, set the sword down, and began to draw a ritual circle around the ¡°blade.¡± Since it was dirt, rather than a more conductive material, the ritual would be inefficient, but it was a trial. Unabated, Bowen kept drawing. Nearly a minute later, the sword sat in a ritual circle containing flowing symbols that almost looked like fire. Bowen checked his work, finding no mistakes. He drew in the last little bit of the circle remaining, and the entire thing came to life.


    Bowen always found it interesting to see how a ritual circle acted. Without facets, Bowen couldn¡¯t infuse brilliance directly, but he¡¯d gotten quite good at adding self-fueling sub-rituals to his primary ritual circle. Bowen was pulled from his thoughts by a glow coming from the practice blade in the circle. A red, glossy barrier began to crawl around the blade, sheathing it in its entirety. As soon as the entire sword was covered, deep red flames coated the blade. Bowen laughed in awe as an experiment turned to a success before his eyes.


    Picking up the sword, which was covered in flame, even to the hilt, Bowen had faith he wouldn¡¯t be burned. As he grabbed the burning hilt quickly, the red, glossy barrier wrapped his hand like a glove all the way to his elbow. ¡°Sweet!¡± Bowen shouted, seeing his hand go alight. Turning to the dummy, Bowen smiled deviously. It wasn¡¯t long for this world. With a shout, Bowen dashed the small distance to the dummy, planting a foot and abandoning technique in favor of a telegraphed and brutish chop to the ribs. With startling ease, the blade burned through the wooden dummy, turning the wood to charcoal and then crushing it to dust.


    Bowen drew back his sword arm, noting the disappointingly mundane blade in his hands. The flames were gone from the blade, but not from the world. The dummy, in two pieces, was smoldering with the flames. Bowen stared at it, only slightly concerned the flames might spread. Bowen had designed the ritual flames to only burn the entity marked as the target. It shouldn¡¯t spread. Key word being ¡°shouldn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Bowen¡­ why is there fire?¡± A voice others might call pleasant and calm spoke. Bowen was not so naive, knowing the angry words of his father when he heard them. Chilled, Bowen turned slowly, putting on his best smile.


    ¡°Father! I was just about to come get you. You know that ritual I¡¯ve been working on for a few weeks? Well, I got it to work! It was much more effective than I thought it¡¯d be¡­¡± Bowen gulped.


    A man appeared from seemingly nothing, walking into the small clearing. He had a pleasant smile and closed eyes. His head was looking at the dummy, which was now just a pile of ash. The fire disappeared in a plume, leaving no trace of its existence aside from a pile of ash and a ritual circle of gray dirt. ¡°You were about to come get me, huh? What did I say about testing fire rituals in the forest?¡±


    Bowen couldn¡¯t keep up the act, fear and shame on his face. He muttered, ¡°... Not to.¡±


    Bowen¡¯s father nodded, ¡°Yes, Bowen. <i>Not to.</i> I think this is an offense worthy of a few laps, don¡¯t you?¡±


    Bowen paled, ¡°Father, surely Mother will be angry if I come home too late! Please, I¡¯m sorry!¡±


    A new sound came from the forest, and Bowen felt all hope vanish. ¡°No no, my sweet boy. I understand you wanting to train. Take all the time you need. Dinner will be waiting for you.¡± Bowen¡¯s mother walked from the opposite side his father had come from, and Bowen had a feeling this was a planned event.


    Bowen knew when to take a loss. ¡°Okay¡­ How many laps?¡± he hoped it was beneath three. Even one took nearly an hour¡­


    ¡°I think five should suffice. Have fun, Bowen. Christy, let¡¯s go. I believe we were expecting a package?¡± Bowen¡¯s father said. His eyes remained closed, like always, as he asked the second part to Bowen¡¯s mother, Christy.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be home in an hour or so, Tregzial. I need to make a trip to town for some ingredients!¡± Christy said, ignoring an increasingly defeated Bowen.


    Tregzial nodded, then simply disappeared. Christy followed him a moment later, vanishing. Bowen sighed, happy his mother had at least promised him dinner. Not thinking about it anymore, as it would only make him feel worse, Bowen set out on his first lap. As he set off, Bowen muttered, ¡°God, I hate running around the mountain¡­¡±

 Chapter 5: Ready as Ever

    Enoch had been received by Coulter soon after waking, where he was guided to the same room he¡¯d had breakfast and dinner in yesterday. He and Ripley idly chatted about things. Enoch didn¡¯t learn much, instead sharing many details of his world. Ripley found it especially odd that Earth had only one sun. That, of all the things, was his hangup.


    Enoch debated whether he should have told Ripley about the night¡¯s events asap, but he decided it could wait until they started actually interfacing about things of that nature.


    After breakfast, Ripley and Enoch went to a previously unseen area of the manor:  Ripley¡¯s study. Study, though, was a bit diminutive of its scale. The room was nearly the size of a library, with at least 500 books staged neatly on shelves. ¡°How long did it take you to build a collection like this?¡± Enoch asked, examining a smaller shelf, set separate from all the others. The books on it were garishly ornate, half as thick as a man, and the paper of the book around the edge looked to be made of gold.


    ¡°A few years, though most of them I took with me from home. This is one of the perks of excelling in my family¡¯s heritage: teaching.¡± Ripley noticed Enoch looking at the books on the smaller shelf. ¡°Ah, those? Those are skill guides.¡±


    Enoch looked away from them, ¡°What¡¯s written in them? I can¡¯t open them.¡±


    Ripley grabbed the book from Enoch, ¡°You don¡¯t read a skill guide. They¡¯re consumables. You set up a ritual and the guide does the rest.¡±


    Enoch blinked, ¡°Wait, these things just, what, directly implant the knowledge that¡¯s inside them? How does that even work?¡± He grabbed another one from the shelf, noticing common features. In fact, most of the books were identical except for the colors. Looking closer at the thing, it kind of looked a bit like a small section of a ritual circle.


    ¡°If you want to know exactly how they work, I am unfortunately not the man to ask. However, I do know that it¡¯s more like a graft. Your soul is inviolable, even by methods you want to happen and initiate. These guides just basically stick the information inside to the outside of your soul, and effectively make it your knowledge. Though I have hang ups about it. If you don¡¯t try and learn the knowledge you absorbed, then you never copy it inside of your soul. And if you don¡¯t do that, the ¡°graft¡± basically fades from your soul, leaving gaps in your knowledge and possible damage to your memory.¡±


    ¡°I think I get it. You¡¯re saying that the knowledge of the book is, no matter how much it seems like it, outside information. If you don¡¯t make an effort to actually copy the knowledge, then it kind of just disappears. That actually sounds pretty realistic, in spite of all this soul stuff. What kind of stuff do these things teach?¡±


    ¡°These ones here are for combat methodology as well as monster information. If you aren¡¯t a merc though, this stuff isn¡¯t for you. So many new mercs are trained everyday that it''s irresponsible to use them on someone who¡¯s job isn¡¯t culling monsters.¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Sounds fair. Anyways, I have something to talk to you about, before we go ahead with whatever lesson you had planned.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Do tell.¡± Ripley fell into the seat behind his desk, a mix of old style lounge chair and modern office chair.


    ¡°When I went to my room last night, I stepped outside to see the surroundings. It was beautiful, but then a glowing dot appeared in the star facet.¡±


    ¡°Oh? Can I see it?¡± Ripley asked, looking curious.


    ¡°Well, that dot flew out of the facet and actually turned out to be a book, which called itself one of my inherent powers. Which you never mentioned¡­¡± Enoch trailed off as Ripley¡¯s expression turned to grim realization. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°... I don¡¯t know anything exactly, but that sounds like someone sent that to you. That isn¡¯t really how inherent powers work, and I didn¡¯t explain them to you because they¡¯re intuitive to each individual. However, they almost never show up before someone is fully faceted, because inherent powers act like a sort of bridge between the personality of someone and the nature of their powers. It must be a <i>very </i>versatile or very powerful ability.¡±


    Enoch nodded, conjuring the book from thin air. It popped into existence with a flash of gold light and a few sparkles floating for a moment. It was a cream-colored cover, with golden filigree forming sweeping patterns and centralizing around an emblem embroidered into the center. The emblem was in the shape of a squinty eye, but sideways. The sclera was almost like a glossy vantablack, but there were faint notes of silver forming impossibly thin cracks all over it.


    Opening it up, Enoch showed Ripley the page with the abilities on it. Ripley got up from his seat, bewildered as he read. ¡°You have two?... Hmm.¡± Ripley checked the book over a few more times, then closed it and gazed absently ahead, thinking.


    Enoch had the book vanish, startling Ripley from his thoughts. Enoch summoned it to his hand and opened it to the back page, where there were all sorts of boxes filled with ritual diagrams. ¡°This is how I absorbed the star facet. It let me deploy a ritual circle.¡±


    Ripley sighed as he sat back down. ¡°I need to approach this differently. You don¡¯t have any comprehension of how powerful and versatile this is, do you? I mean, the mere aspect of cataloging and describing powers is something prized worldwide, as a <i>very</i> scant few people have had that power in the past. That¡¯s why not many powers have names. The fact that it lets you deploy rituals the way it does is, frankly, ludicrous. It has limitations on rank, I can sense that much. But still. Does it have a ritual size limit?¡±


    Enoch thoughtfully looked through the rituals he had available. None of them were combative, and all of them were versatile and useful. He noticed none of them really got bigger than twenty yards across. ¡°Maybe. It¡¯s hard to tell.¡± Enoch vanished the book, taking a seat at a chair opposite Ripley.


    ¡°That power stands out the most, but that second one is extraordinary in its own right. To be immune to mind-altering effects? There is no limitation to it. That¡¯s rare.¡± Ripley said, then he acted like he¡¯d just remembered something. ¡°Ah! Just so you know, don¡¯t go around sharing that book with just anyone. Knowing someone¡¯s powers is a pretty big sign of trust in another person. I won¡¯t do anything bad with the information, but others aren¡¯t so nice. They¡¯ll make your weaknesses public knowledge, and then any enemies you might have will probably take advantage of it.¡±


    ¡°Good, because I don¡¯t plan on oversharing or making enemies.¡± Enoch said.


    Ripley laughed heartily, ¡°Naivety at its purest. You¡¯ll learn that enemies are an inevitability in this world, no matter the profession. It''s just that some enemies don¡¯t try to kill you. They¡¯ll get you fired, make you lose business, or alienate you from your family.¡±


    ¡°I have a hard time believing that. Like, why would they bother? I just want to make some money, hire someone to help me get home, and maybe bring some stuff back to help people out. What kind of enemy am I?¡± Enoch asked. It was difficult to just take the man¡¯s words at face value, even with all the magic. Human nature was human nature, no matter how many fancy tools and gizmos you gave it. Extortion, selfishness, and prejudice were rampant among humanity, but only on the top. Underneath, where the people were stepped on, they all just tried to be as fair as was convenient and not make unnecessary conflict.


    Ripley shook his head again, ¡°If you don¡¯t believe me now, you will when you leave. It can only really be learned by being exposed to it, I suppose. Just don¡¯t show this to people without a large amount of trust in them, got it?¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Fair enough. Alright, what¡¯s on the agenda for today?¡±


    Ripley grinned, ¡°A fair bit. Before we go on, though, I have to ask again: You¡¯re sure you aren¡¯t interested in mercenary work? Inherent powers say a lot about a person, and yours so far detail a mentally sound man with a conviction to catalog the world. That might be reaching, but still.¡±


    Shaking his head, Enoch looked to his hands, ¡°Nope. Conflict isn¡¯t my forte. And even if it was, I wouldn¡¯t pursue it.¡±


    ¡°Fine. In that case, you have a fair bit to learn about the job market in Velocity.¡±


    ¡°Are there no smaller villages around the city? I¡¯d have thought satellite farming communities would be common there, especially after seeing its size. I know that magic exists and all, but I doubt this world has got mass-production down like my world does.¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°There are some smaller cities,¡± Ripley agreed, though he still looked reluctant. ¡°I would steer clear of them, though.¡±


    ¡°Why? I¡¯d imagine it would be easier for me to acclimate, as well as learn jobs with lower stakes. What¡¯s the hitch?¡± Enoch asked.


    ¡°Well, you said your world doesn¡¯t have monsters, right? Well, there are phenomena known as monster waves here. Random, large, and <i>very</i> deadly to anyone who isn¡¯t versed in survival and combat. If you were a merc, that¡¯s where I¡¯d start you, but the security of a place like Velocity is unmatched. Satellite villages are a thing of the long distant past, as it was too costly to keep rebuilding them every time they were razed by stampeding monster waves.¡±


    Enoch sighed and hung his head, ¡°Well, I started a career in a big city once, I can do it again. Say, how do I even get down to Velocity?¡± Enoch asked, noting that he probably should have thought of it sooner.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take you down there. Something to know, by the way, is that once you get your full suite of facets it is highly encouraged to get a flight power. There are a few others as well, but if you plan to work out of Aordia that is probably the most important.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Well, let''s get into the potatoes of the final lesson, shall we?¡± Enoch asked, settling into his chair as Ripley did the same. He nodded.


    ¡­


    On a small island floating over the sea, three people moved with snake-like consistency as they pursued an unaware target. Two of them looked younger, in their late teens, and the other looked older, like they were in their mid-twenties.


    The three were each dark-skinned, with tribal clothing and spears. Barefooted, they dashed through thickets, over roots, and on rocks. They lost sight of their quarry many times, though that never meant they were failing to track them. Their ears picked up the slack. Grey fur coated the wolfish ears that perked from their heads, as well as their tails that kept them balanced.


    One of them, a woman, hung behind the other two, keeping an eye on them. She was exerting less effort than them, keeping up with their juvenile pace. Eventually their prey found the edge of the island, turning and confronting its pursuers. The two younger people, two young men, gave a war-cry and formed into a pincer maneuver. The older woman hung back, but her face showed her disappointment in the youths decision. Their opponent was a two-headed Jackal Mamba. It was a rare creature, thus why the two ¡°most promising¡± warriors of the younger generation were sent to gain experience by fighting it.


    But, a particularly helpful thing to know when facing a two-headed monster is that you never try to pincer it. They evolved to combat that one specific tactic, as the warriors were about to find out. As they closed the final distance, the two dog-like snake heads twisted over each other, confusing the warriors'' targets. In that brief hesitation, each head swung low like a hammer, trying to sweep them to their backs. On the young man, it worked, though the woman hurdled it.


    The older woman grunted as she dashed forward with blinding speed, planting her spear through the snake head that was about to kill the downed man. ¡°Thank you, Storm. I am ashamed of my-¡±


    ¡°Silence, Blitz. Pay attention to Flow.¡± Surge of the Storm glared briefly at Blitz, focusing back on the young woman and her fight. Flow was in a dance with the lone snake-head, dodging its sweeps and snaps, then trying and failing to pierce its scales with her spear. Flow had always been weaker than most, making up for it in skill and technique. This brought that weakness into great focus, and Surge of the Storm could tell Flow was getting frustrated.


    Another minute of progressively more tired and desperate actions from Flow, Surge of the Storm snorted, doing the same thing she¡¯d done to the last head. ¡°Flow, where did you go wrong?¡± she barked at the woman who collapsed onto the ground.


    Flow waited a moment to catch her breath, ¡°... I was not strong enough.¡± Surge snarled.


    ¡°Foolish. No, you were not <i>smart</i> enough. You could have lured it to the edge and knocked it off, stabbed its eyes and mouth, used the blunt end of the spear, and many other things. Your technical prowess has put blinders on you. Your skill set does not include creativity.¡±


    Flow sat up and pointed accusingly at Blitz, ¡°Why are you on me so hard when he got taken out from the very beginning?! At least I could fight it!¡±


    Surge¡¯s eyes darkened and she glowered, lowering her face to Flow¡¯s. Fear took Flow¡¯s expression. ¡°Because his was a fault of skill. An easily fixable problem. Yours¡¯ is a problem of mindset and method. And if I hear you disparage a fellow clansman again, I¡¯ll see you hang by your belt over the edge of Skyplunge. Do you understand?¡±


    Flow nodded, and Surge snorted, turning to look at Blitz, who was ashamedly sitting down, looking at his feet accusingly. Surge whistled, getting his attention. ¡°You¡¯ll participate in three extra training sessions every day. Also, both of you will attend my tactics and assessment lecture in a week. Your decision to pincer a two-headed snake is a baffling failure of our current curriculum of tactical theory.¡±


    Blitz looked motivated when he nodded. ¡°I didn¡¯t really know the best tactic, so I just wanted to go with something lauded as one of the best tactics for single-monster hunting.¡±


    Surge of the Storm nodded, ¡°Pincer Attack is indeed highly effective in many scenarios. However, it is equally terrible in other, more niche circumstances. This was one of the more tame failures of this tactic. I¡¯ve seen entire team-wipes from a poorly-decided pincer.¡±


    When they made it back to the village, Surge left the younglings to go do some more training. She went to the largest hut in the center of their current dwelling. Pushing through the curtain of beads, Surge noticed she had intruded on a meeting of all the elders. Without stopping she found a seat and silently took part in the meeting. They discussed plans to move on to a new island, as the prey was growing wise to their hunting parties. Surge didn¡¯t ever take part in these decisions as her forte was very narrow. When someone wanted to move to a new topic, Surge halted the council.


    ¡°I¡¯ve just returned from a foray with a small group of the young ¡°elites.¡± I am sorely disappointed. One is a bumbling mess and the other is self-centered and narrow-minded. The curriculum needs to be changed. Drastically.¡±


    An older man slammed a fist down on the table in front of him. ¡°Surge of the Storm! Have you no sense of decency?! Should you have come to me with these concerns first, I would have explained these shortcomings. They are noted, and my curriculum is covering these things later!¡±


    Surge bared her teeth, standing and glaring at the man, ¡°You insult me? Be silent, soft codger. If your curriculum fails to teach proper tactical planning and creative combat measures in the first year, then it is a <i>failure</i>. We are at peace now, after reconciling with the main Lunaris house, but should more conflict arise, these younger warriors will be the first to step out and meet the enemy. If this is the level of training the front will have, then we will have a lot of dead warriors.¡± She walked up to the man, leaning over the table and staring him down, ¡°Or do you believe me unqualified to correct you?¡±


    The older man, now sweating, spoke tightly, ¡°No one can question your capability¡­¡± Surge stepped back, relaxing, when the old fool spoke up, ¡°But we can question your decision to retain only one facet. You are not strong enough to dictate how I do my job.¡±


    Most of the room stilled, the whispered conversations stalling. For the first time in a long time, Surge of the Storm smiled. It wasn¡¯t cute or pleasant. It was feral and bloodthirsty. ¡°Need I prove myself again? Fine. Bite of the Flame, you have sullied my name and spit on my capability. I have a right to a deathmatch with you.¡±


    Bite of the Flame looked around, noticing the pitying looks sent his way. He regretted his words. He¡¯d forgotten how merciless and bloodthirsty Surge of the Storm was. But Bite of the Flame had all four facets, even if he only had a few powers. He didn¡¯t think Surge could beat him with only one facet and one power.


    ¡°Fine. Your arrogance will be your end. Lets take this to the dueling gro-¡±


    Surge grabbed Bite by the collar, faster than he could react, and threw him through the beads, landing in the circular center of the village used for gatherings. He shouted angrily, standing up. A spear smacked him in the chest, and he saw Surge already at the spear racks, grabbing her own. Bite bit back his words: this was a deathmatch. He didn¡¯t want to take it that far, but Surge definitely would.


    Bite was about to enter a defensive stance when he suddenly felt deflated. Gasping, he blinked, wondering where Surge had gone. She was no longer at the spear rack, and Bite looked down at his chest. It didn¡¯t really make sense to him. Something was poking out, pulsating and dripping blood. Dropping his spear, Bite started to gain feeling again. A hand was lodged though his back and out his chest, holding his still-beating heart. Looking over his shoulder, Surge was looking at him with pure apathy. ¡°H- how?...¡± Bite croaked.


    ¡°I never took more facets or powers so that I could better use the one I have. But, the more relevant question I have for you: Do you resign?¡±


    Bite blinked, ¡°Wha-¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve not yet killed you. My condition for letting you live is that you resign as director of youth development. You¡¯ll get them all killed.¡±


    Bite nodded, and felt a cold sucking, the hand receding back into his chest. He fell to his knees, passing out. Surge walked over to the spear rack, grabbing a towel meant for cleaning weapons and using it to clean her arm of the blood. Turning around, she saw the many looks people were giving her. ¡°He¡¯s alive. It will take him a few weeks to recover. This is what happens to people who threaten our future by neutering our warrior youth. His curriculum would make us a paltry force to be reckoned with. How many here know that we would be wiped from existence if we weren¡¯t so hard to kill? If we show weakness, the pirate groups will come down on us. <i>Hard</i>. I will not let that happen as long as I live.¡±


    She walked back into the tent, taking Bite¡¯s old seat. None of the others had moved. The chief shook his head, ¡°I understand your concern, Surge. But if you¡¯d simply informed us all of your discovery, we would have removed Bite of the Flame from the council, letting him retain his dignity and not scare the people.¡±


    Surge nodded, ¡°Perhaps, but I feel they need to be reminded that our way of life is hard and requires strength. Our lack of official conflict has already been noticed by the pirates, and they are just waiting for our older generation to exit our prime, so that they only have to face soft, young warriors who are untested.¡±


    The chief sighed and shrugged, ¡°Fine. Try next time, though. Your direct methods are handy most of the time, but some matters require <i>some</i> finesse. Okay?¡±


    ¡°Mm.¡±


    ¡°Good. Also, you need to name a replacement for your position. We kind of need a scout leader.¡±

 Chapter 6: Free Fall

    Enoch wiped the last of dinner from his mouth, embarrassed by the spectacle he¡¯d made of himself. Ripley tried to hide his amusement, but Enoch just felt worse for it. It was the most familiar-tasting thing he¡¯d eaten yet: a hamburger.


    Enoch just sighed and leaned back in his seat, ¡°Wow¡­ I would have never guessed a fantastical world like this would have burgers. I guess you have cows then?¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°Aye. They are the second biggest food animal on the continent.¡±


    Enoch squinted, ¡°The first wouldn¡¯t happen to be chicken, would it?¡±


    ¡°No. They¡¯re third. The first is sky serpent.¡±


    Enoch frowned, ¡°What?¡± He leaned in, ¡°Tell me you¡¯re joking. No way you eat snakes. Also, what do you mean <i>¡®sky </i>serpent?¡¯¡±


    Ripley stood up and beckoned Enoch to follow, ¡°Yes, we eat snakes. It is really good and quite abundant.¡±


    Enoch caught up to Ripley, ¡°Okay?...¡± He looked at Ripley expectantly. Ripley just stared back at him. ¡°Well, why are they called sky serpents?¡±


    Ripley smirked, ¡°They have big wings they use to glide from sky island to sky island. When they need to go up, those wings help them climb the waterises.¡±


    Enoch shook his head, ¡°Snakes are just flying about and you act like it''s normal. And what¡¯s a waterise?¡±


    ¡°It <i>is</i> normal here, and a waterise is the opposite of a waterfall. Obviously.¡±


    Enoch shook his head, abandoning the topic. He¡¯d learned that his definition of common sense was in dire need of an update for this new world. Waterises? Why not. Flying snakes? Sure.


    When they stepped out the front door, Enoch felt stifled. He was about to go to Velocity with Ripley to chat with a few of his friends to see if he could get a job to start out in. Enoch felt nervous.


    Ripley noticed and set a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I can¡¯t really imagine what you¡¯re going through, but I do know that it will end well for you if you put in effort. I have good friends down in velocity, and they¡¯ll make sure that you get a good opportunity. It''s up to you to try and grasp it.¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Yeah¡­ Sorry, I don¡¯t mean to sound like a moocher, but I don¡¯t really want to leave here until I just know everything. I know that will never happen, but I would at least like to know what logic this world runs on. But I can¡¯t rightfully impose on you any longer.¡±


    Ripley laughed, ¡°If you¡¯re trying to figure out what logic this world follows, then you¡¯ll never find it.¡± He laughed again at Enoch¡¯s confused expression, ¡°What I mean is that this world doesn¡¯t <i>have</i> logic. Random encounters and wacky situations are omnipresent on South Bloom, and it gets worse in the Crawl. Instead of trying to find a logic to apply to everything, seek a methodology. For instance, as a merc, I never assume anything.¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°That isn¡¯t comforting. But there has to be <i>some</i> predictability, right? I mean, it doesn¡¯t seem like people are that different than where I come from.¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± Ripley conceded, ¡°But people of higher ranks get progressively more eccentric and odd. As a blossoming high-ranker myself, I can theorize why this happens. I think that the more power you get, the more you realize you don¡¯t <i>need</i> to fit in with those around you.¡±


    Enoch shook his head, ¡°I get it, maybe. But sitting here chatting is just gonna make me more of a nervous wreck. I just need to jump into it. That¡¯s the one thing I learned from football: if you hesitate to give it your all, you just get hurt more than if you had tackled the problem full-speed.¡±


    Ripley smiled, ¡°Fair enough. Next time we meet, tell me more about this ¡®football.¡¯ I don¡¯t know any sports where feet are the main element.¡±


    Enoch grinned, ¡°Nope. I¡¯m American. For some reason, we call our game football even though we don¡¯t use our feet for it except on some occasions.¡±


    Ripley guided Enoch to what looked like a pier, only it jutted out into empty air. ¡°You say that our world is crazy, yet you speak of a game called football that doesn¡¯t involve feet. I think you¡¯ll do just fine here.¡±


    ¡°I hope so¡­¡± Enoch muttered as they walked over to the edge. His stomach was going wacky at the dichotomy of feeling solid ground beneath his feet, yet clearly seeing the drop before him.


    They walked over to a humongous wicker basket with various weights hanging over the sides. A small door sat open and waiting, with a huge pile of canvas connected to it by strings. Over the basket was a brazier, and Enoch recognized the thing as a hot air balloon. He grinned in spite of himself, looking forward to the ride down. ¡°Are we going down in that?¡±


    ¡°Aye. I thought this would be your first flight, so I chose this device, as it is more approachable.¡±


    Enoch smiled, ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m no stranger to flying. I would love to ride a hot air balloon though.¡±


    Ripley looked surprised, ¡°Your world has flight? How? I thought you didn¡¯t have magic.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not really qualified to talk about it, but we have pretty advanced technology where I¡¯m from. Flight is one of the older technologies, though it has progressed by leaps and bounds over the years. Let me tell you, a fighter jet has no right to be a stable aircraft, and yet it is.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a fighter jet?¡±


    ¡°Something really cool that flies crazy fast and shoots big bombs.¡±


    Ripley frowned, ¡°Sounds like a monster I know.¡±


    Enoch shook his head, ¡°It isn¡¯t alive. We made it.¡±


    Ripley pointed to the basket, ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll take your word for it. Now let¡¯s go. It¡¯s getting late, and I want to have a surprise meeting with an acquaintance of mine before I drop you into the thick of things.¡±


    Enoch nodded and boarded the basket. Ripley followed and started moving bits and pieces about to get it ready to fly. Enoch was at a loss how it all functioned. Probably something to do with weight and wind. The only part Enoch recognized as definitely-not-how-they-do-it-on-Earth was when Ripley seemed to grab at the thin air between him and the balloon, then casting it upward. The empty balloon followed his gesture, and it held itself loosely up. Ripley reached up and snapped his fingers above what would be a torch for a balloon.


    Enoch smiled when the balloon lurched upward, the originally flimsy balloon snapping to perfect shape like a soldier to attention. Ripley set his hand on a crystal set into the center of the basket on a thin pedestal. As his hand danced around the device, the balloon behaved strangely and started moving toward Velocity.


    Enoch laughed and looked over the edge, enjoying the dichotomy between sense and logic that was riding a hot air balloon. His gut was telling him death was imminent while logic told him he was just fine. The strange feeling gut was exciting.


    Ripley just smiled, ¡°I thought you had these on your world? You seem like this is your first time riding one.¡±


    Enoch shook his head, still looking down as they passed the bottom of Ripley¡¯s sky island, ¡°I¡¯ve flown plenty, but it was always on a big commercial airliner. Hot air balloons are outdated and impractical, so they are more of a tourist event than practical mode of flight. This is my first time.¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Ripley shook his head, ¡°Your world is strange. These balloons are very practical. They use very little magic, are easy to produce, easy to fly, and can navigate sky islands superbly. They only really struggle with speed, stealth, and durability. I¡¯ll never forget the first time I was taken out of the sky by a wayward monster who seemed to have beef with my balloon.¡±


    Enoch stopped laughing immediately. ¡°Wait, what?! Monsters can take us down? Please tell me you have a solution¡­¡±


    Ripley smiled devilishly as he pointed at one of three small packs that were sitting in a small box on the ground. ¡°Do you happen to know what a parachute is?¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Yeah¡­ but, can¡¯t you stop them? I thought you hunted these monsters.¡±


    ¡°Aye. To both. But while I could fend them off, you cannot. It would be a good learning experience for you, since you will probably end up owning one of these, and won¡¯t have the capability to defend it. It is quite safe, as long as you use logic and don¡¯t panic too much.¡±


    Enoch set his hands on each of Ripley¡¯s shoulders as he stared intently at him, ¡°I think logic and calm demeanor go out the window when you begin to freefall.¡±


    Ripley smiled and took his hand from the crystal, ¡°The balloon will go to Velocity without further inputs.¡± He turned and poked his head over the edge of the basket.


    Enoch was confused, ¡°Why are you changing the topic? I want to know how to live!¡±


    Ripley¡¯s gaze lingered downward for a moment, then he nodded and turned back to Enoch with what he was beginning to realize was his natural shifty grin. ¡°What¡¯s so scary about a freefall?¡±


    Before Enoch could give him a great multitude of answers, Ripley snatched one of the three pouches and vaulted over the basket. Enoch gasped, lunging to try and catch him. He wasn¡¯t even close, Ripley¡¯s speed unnatural. Enoch stared down as Ripley was falling through the sky, doing wild flips, twirls and other obviously intentionally tricks. Enoch just now thought about what he considered ¡®high¡¯. He recalled looking down from planes at their zenith, and he felt like he was still a <i>lot</i> higher than he¡¯d been then. A stray thought invaded Enoch¡¯s mind, ¡®Why isn¡¯t the air thin?¡¯


    Enoch slowly backed himself into the center of the basket, the balloon not seeming so magical anymore. He looked up, barely seeing Ripley¡¯s island in the sky. It was equally as high up now. He was close to halfway down. Enoch grabbed one of the packs, stuffing it into his pocket in case he had to take a dive for some reason.


    Some time later, as Enoch was beginning to regain his confidence, he heard a small whistle. Blinking, Enoch looked around in the sky. It was toward the end of dusk now, and Enoch felt nearly blind. Before he could dismiss the sound as a small gust, he saw a streak in the sky passing close to the balloon, the same whistle following it. Enoch felt like he was beginning to choke. He refused to believe that he was about to be free falling. After a few more passes, each one making Enoch feel a hundred years older, the streak came straight for the basket. It stopped around ten feet from Enoch who was raising his arms to block whatever it was.


    When it stopped, Enoch got a good look at it. It was like a mix between a stork and a hawk. It had ridiculously long wings that were currently flapping to hold the creature aloft as it gazed into Enoch¡¯s eyes with its own. Enoch absently noted that it looked like a rather peaceful creature and that maybe he¡¯d just overreacted. Still wary, he held out a hand and tapped the basket, ¡°Come here. I promise, if you don¡¯t ever scare me again, I¡¯ll get you buckets of your favorite food. Deal?¡±


    The fact he¡¯d just attempted negotiations with a creature that looked to be lacking a brain made Enoch feel like perhaps a trip to the local equivalent of a therapist was needed, but now was time to wheel and deal.


    Or so he¡¯d thought. The bird just glided forward and landed gently on the basket¡¯s edge. It was the size of a stork, with a general body shape of a hawk and stupidly long wings.


    Enoch just stepped back, sighing internally. He gazed about the sky a minute longer but nothing else showed up. He turned back to the stork thing, ¡°Did you understand me, or are you just friendly? And what are you called?¡± As he noted that, Enoch felt like an idiot as he had an inherent power that was literally made for this. He summoned the book in a puff of sparkles and gold light. The creature squawked and blustered for a moment, but settled after a moment.


    Enoch opened the book, hoping it would give him an answer.


    <i>Ribbon-winged Stawk: A long-winged avian omnivore. They patrol the skies, often feeding by slicing off large vines with their incredibly sharp wings. They have been known to eat meat when forced to fight, though they are generally peaceful. One thing to note is that they are curious creatures in spite of their lack of intellect.</i>


    <i>Notable abilities: Flight, Blade-wings.</i>


    Enoch snapped the book shut, ¡°Well, you aren¡¯t so bad, are you? Just a curious little bird, eh?¡± He smiled and relaxed. The bird preened itself for a moment before looking up at the balloon. Perhaps then was the best time for Enoch to note that the whole outside of the balloon was covered in colorful ropes that were swinging in the wind. They were probably intended for telling wind, but all Enoch saw was probably the same thing the stawk was now fixated on: Colorful vines hanging out in the sky.


    ¡°No, NOOO!!!¡± Enoch screamed as he lunged at the bird, but it was too late. With one wingbeat, it launched upward to the center of the balloon, and time slowed as its wing seemed to stiffen and flexibly whip forward, slicing through both the ropes and balloon. Enoch gasped as the entire balloon seemed to jolt, then began to freefall in an odd trajectory due to the hole in the side.


    Enoch looked down, and saw that he wasn¡¯t too far from the city, and he knew what he had to do. He turned to the bird that was squawking as it chased his falling form and began to scream at it. Not even Enoch could understand what he was saying, but he intended it to be scathing. After a few more seconds, Enoch grasped the basket for dear life, and tried to endure. But he was not the first to give out. The tethers holding the balloon and the basket together snapped, one by one, until the basket was all that remained, and the basket was top heavy. It flipped, throwing Enoch out of it and away.


    Enoch screamed, his freefalling flips and twirls far less intentional than Ripley¡¯s. Enoch fumbled at his pockets, but found it difficult while being buffeted by the winds. He panicked more and more, until he finally got it. He undid the buckle on the pouch, which was thankfully easy, and grabbed the small handles. He cast the whole thing upward, gripping the handles tighter than he¡¯d ever gripped anything before. But apparently the parachute wasn¡¯t quite like they were on Earth.


    The handles slithered out of Enoch¡¯s grasp like live things and snaked around and down his arms, then his back, eventually wrapping his entire body. The parachute itself deployed into a fan of cloth, larger than any other parachute Enoch had ever seen. Curiously enough, it didn¡¯t jar him as it deployed. Defying physics, the thing slowed his descent slowly, then turned it into what nearly felt like no gravity. Enoch was still breathing heavily, but he was no longer inconsolable. He was nearly to the city, though he was now at the edge of it. After a minute or so, Enoch touched ground, and the parachute, somehow, began to do the exact opposite it had done to unfold, as it packed itself back up, snaking its way loose of holding his body to the parachute.


    Enoch barely registered that, though, as his legs turned to noodles and he collapsed to the grass, breathless. Tears streamed from his eyes, and he simply sat there and rested. Until some boots stepped in front of his face. Emotionless, Enoch looked up at Ripley, who was just smiling.


    Enoch clenched his teeth and found his feet in an instant as he hauled back and sent his fist straight to Ripley¡¯s jaw. It felt as if he¡¯d punched a mountain, and Enoch grimaced, though he leveled his glare at Ripley.


    Ripley looked surprised, and he hadn¡¯t even reacted to the punch. ¡°Why are you so upset?¡±


    Enoch looked disbelievingly at him, ¡°Are you serious?... You left me alone! I¡¯ve never fallen more than six feet, much less more than six miles! Are you stupid?!¡±


    Ripley looked slightly guilty, ¡°I was actually quite close by the entire time. And it isn¡¯t that scary- oh¡­ I believe my viewpoint was skewed.¡±


    Enoch, still furious, snorted, ¡°Skewed? What kind of prank is leaving someone alone in a skydive. How is that a prank?!¡±


    ¡°Humans are a magical race, so I forgot that a couple thousand years ago, the inherent fear of flight was bred out of man. I guess it wasn¡¯t for your world?¡±


    Enoch scoffed, ¡°Of course not. Fear of heights is completely understandable.¡± He looked around. They were around three-hundred yards from the city wall, but there was no gate in sight. There was a paved road running beside the wall though. Enoch shook his head, ¡°Whatever. Don¡¯t ever do something like that again, ok? Can we get on with this? I just want to forget what just happened.¡±


    Ripley cleared his throat and nodded. ¡°Sorry. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Silently, the two made their way to the wall and followed the road around to the southern entrance. When they made it to the checkpoint, the guard who was trying his best not to look bored spoke laconically, ¡°Reason for entry and have you been here before?¡±


    Ripley gestured at Enoch, ¡°I¡¯ve come to speak with the mayor about my friend here¡¯s new career. And I¡¯ve been here, but he has not.¡±


    The guard scoffed as he looked up from the checklist in his hands. He nearly let forth a snarky comment, then he recognized Ripley and snapped to attention. ¡°S-sir Ripley! I apologize, sincerely. I thought you were given an expedited entry pass?¡±


    Ripley shook his head, ¡°Aye, I was, but my friend wasn¡¯t and I didn¡¯t want to make a mess for the guardhouse.¡±


    The guard nodded, still wide-eyed and ramrod straight. He turned swiftly to Enoch, briefly looking confused, then snapped out of it. ¡°Since you¡¯ve never been to the city, I need to put your information in our system.¡±


    Enoch, long since out of his foul mood, nodded, ¡°My name¡¯s Enoch Aadland and I¡¯m twenty-two years old.¡±


    ¡°...Ok. And your facets? Or facet, I suppose?¡± He asked expectantly. Enoch, remembering something Ripley had said about privacy, turned to him expectantly.


    Ripley just nodded, so Enoch told him, ¡°I have a star facet.¡±


    As he wrote it down, the guard nodded, ¡°A rare one. Alright, you¡¯re all set. Enjoy your visit to Velocity. Next!¡±


    Neither Ripley or Enoch spared the busy gate another moment as they passed through and Enoch entered his first Praeda city.

 Chapter 7: Outfitting

    Enoch wandered through main thoroughfares and side alleys, the sights living up to their reputation. Velocity, also known as Script City, was known for making use of incredibly abundant but structurally lacking materials. But this city had withstood multiple sieges and monster waves for the same reason it had gained its rep: nearly every square inch of the city was covered in inscriptions and talismans. The inscriptions all did different things. Some strengthened, some protected from outside impacts, others prevented material degradation. There were detection, offense, barrier, utility and all sorts of other inscriptions that made life safer and easier for all the citizens.


    In Enoch¡¯s opinion, though, their best function was probably that they made the city look like a proper mixture of medieval architecture mixed with high-rise construction, sprinkled with a wizard¡¯s whimsy. The limestone buildings also looked rather exotic with glowing runes carved all over everything.


    After a lot more gawking and a little more actual notation of the city¡¯s layout, Enoch made it to his goal by way of a candy shop: a tailory. According to Ripley, Enoch ought to sort out his wardrobe before meeting the mayor. Ripley had wanted to guide Enoch to the best spots, but Enoch had declined, instead wanting to explore for himself. There was no question that a city this size was safer than one might be on Earth. Also, the fat bag of coins he¡¯d coaxed out of a guilty Ripley would have been awkward to spend in front of his face.


    As he chewed on some leopard taffy, which was a strange name for pineapple flavored taffy, he made his way inside. As he walked into the building there was a desk with a wall forcing you to go to either side to see the inside of the shop. At the desk sat what Enoch could only call a model of a man. Or elf, if his shallow fantasy knowledge was accurate.


    ¡°Hello? This is a tailor, right?¡± Enoch asked, looking at the backsplash on the wall behind the desk. It was the right half of a suit with huge cross-stitches connecting it to a left-half of plate armor, with a big gleaming needle coming out of one side.


    The man looked up, his blue eyes stark enough to make Enoch feel inferior. He offered a million-dollar smile as he stood and extended a hand to Enoch over the desk, ¡°Yes sir! One of the best tailors in Velocity, in my opinion. May I have the pleasure of your name?¡±


    Enoch took the man¡¯s hand firmly, ¡°That¡¯s good, cause I like good clothes. Name¡¯s Enoch Aadland. I was told to seek out good clothing as well as a set of enchanted garb to serve as my main outfit. I assume it''s good advice?¡±


    The man¡¯s already bright eyes practically glowed at the mention of enchantments. ¡°Great advice! You must be in need of a new wardrobe entirely, eh? Ah! And my name is Vitro, by the way.¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Yeah, even the clothes I¡¯m wearing aren¡¯t mine. I kind of got flung from some far-off place and arrived naked in a pretty generous guy¡¯s house. I don¡¯t think he¡¯d press me to return them, but I couldn¡¯t take them in good conscience.¡±


    Vitro gestured to Enoch to follow, ¡°Good man. Wearing someone else¡¯s clothes isn¡¯t really comfortable, is it? Well we can fix that! What¡¯s your budget, if you don¡¯t mind my asking? And what kind of enchantments would you like on your everyday set?¡±


    Enoch followed the man to an open floor with racks upon racks of cloth, leather, ribbon, and more exotic materials Enoch couldn¡¯t name. There was stuff from raw materials all the way to nearly completed pieces. Enoch quickly felt stifled as he knew he¡¯d need help with his choices. ¡°Ah, well you certainly don¡¯t lack variety¡­ How about you give me a little lead? I don¡¯t really know the local fashion, and I don¡¯t really kno¨C You know what, could you just act like I know nothing about what I need. Because I don¡¯t.¡±


    Vitro smiled, ¡°Sure thing! Well, I would recommend either one enchanted set with three others, or two enchanted sets with three others. Are you a merc or scout, or any other combat profession for that matter?¡±


    Enoch furrowed his brow, ¡°Why would that matter? I thought you were a tailor?¡±


    Vitro laughed in a way that suggested pride, ¡°We aren¡¯t just tailors, but also armorsmiths. I take it you aren¡¯t a combatant?¡± Enoch nodded, and Vitro continued, ¡°In that case, I say get your everyday clothes as an enchanted pair, then get a formal set, work set, and lounge-wear. Shoes, you¡¯ll want all enchanted if you have the funds for it. Which brings me back to your budget?¡±


    ¡°Ah! Well, I¡¯ve put aside thirty gold for this. Is that enough for some quality?¡± Enoch asked. He knew it should be, but he wanted to know if they would prey on his ignorance. Money was thankfully similar in value to American dollars. They used bronze, silver, gold and platinum coins, then diamond Studs after that. One silver was worth a hundred bronze, and that was the same all the way until Studs, which were worth one-thousand platinum coins. And one silver coin was worth a dollar, roughly enough.


    Vitro nodded, ¡°Hmm¡­ In that case, you can easily afford some higher-tier enchantments on your clothes. I would also recommend enchanting <i>all</i> of your shoes. It makes life much better. Of course, the price could go up or down based on the enchantments you want. What might those be?¡±


    Enoch gave him a sheepish smile, ¡°Like I said, I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t even know the basics of enchantments.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes. Forgive me. Well, the most common enchantments are climate control, self-clean/repair, and basic durability and strength enhancements. But if you¡¯re willing to push your budget a little, you can add a spatial pocket.¡±


    Enoch blinked, ¡°Spatial pocket? Like, it''s bigger inside than outside?¡±


    Vitro nodded, ¡°Yes. It isn¡¯t staggeringly large, but it mostly eliminates the need to carry a bag with you. There are larger pockets, and of course actual spatial storage crystals, but those are unreasonably out of your budget if you still get clothes.¡±


    Enoch smiled and cast his gaze about the shop once more. There was nobody on the large floor except for them. He turned back to Vitro, ¡°Well, now you know what I need, I think. Let¡¯s get to the style and color of it, right?¡±


    Vitro laughed, ¡°Yes, yes! Come along and let me show you the best fashion in all of Aordia.¡± He took them over to a side room, which had a couch facing a curtain. They took a seat on the couch, Vitro grabbing a small crystal from the table in front of them. He clicked it and the curtain parted, showing a wooden mannequin. Enoch had no time to be surprised by the modern touch, ¡°So, this room is helpful when dealing with browsing customers. Tell me, where should we start? Lounge-wear, formal-wear, work-wear, or everyday-wear?¡±


    ¡°Formal,¡± he said decisively. Vitro clicked the button, the curtains drawing for a moment before parting again, revealing a fully outfitted row of six mannequins. Each were adorned in diverse levels of what Enoch would call ¡®strange¡¯ clothes. They were definitely designed with a blend of conformity as well as individuality, and only one of them looked similar to Enoch¡¯s mental image of formal wear, which was a suit.


    Vitro gestured at the far left, which was almost a robe with a black lace capelet. It had two wings coming up from behind each shoulder, giving the thing a rather angular and aggressive or sharp appearance. ¡°That is probably the most, eh, <i>topical</i> piece you might wear. I personally think it is a rather fitting outfit for a bold person, but it also comes with challenge, unlike any others.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Enoch frowned, ¡°What kind of challenge? It looks like it keeps itself out of the way.¡±


    Vitro shook his head, ¡°No no, no physical challenges. Social ones. You see, this is the formal wear of the animus houses. Well, it once was. Now it simply originates from them. But some of them will get, eh, let¡¯s say offended when they see a non-animus wearing it. It certainly isn¡¯t illegal though, in spite of what many might say. Does this style interest you?¡±


    Enoch shook his head, ¡°No. I have a decent idea of what I want for formal wear.¡± He pointed to the one just right of center, ¡°I want something like that, but with some more color and a few stylistic changes.¡±


    Vitro was impressed, ¡°Good choice.¡± He called the curtains again. When they parted there were three mannequins now, each wearing different variants of a suit, which was what Enoch had pointed at. None of them had quite the same vibe as typical suits from Earth, but he felt like he could communicate what he wanted to Vitro. Enoch got up and walked up to one of them that look pretty close to what he had in mind. The lapel was thinner than usual, with three cuts instead of one, and the tie was in a strange cross shape.


    After some back and forth, Vitro understood Enoch¡¯s vision. He wrote something in a notepad, ¡°Alright. And what kind of colors or patterns were you thinking? I¡¯ve always found muted but complex color palettes to be best with suits, but some brighter ones look good too.¡±


    Enoch shook his head, ¡°Can you make the tie the same lace as on that first one you showed me? But it needs to be thicker and orange. And the jacket should be teal, with white buttons and white lining. The pocket square can be striped orange and white. Make the pants match the jacket, with an orange stripe down the side. And the shoes¡­ maybe a grey-muddled cloth? I¡¯ll defer to you on those.¡±


    Surprised, Vitro closed his eyes and envisioned it. ¡°Interesting¡­ Rather bright, but it certainly would stand out. It isn¡¯t a bad color combination¡­ Ok, I can do that. And boots would be better I think. Is that okay?¡± Enoch nodded and Vitro made the mannequins vanish again. ¡°Very good. What next?¡±


    ¡°Everyday clothes.¡±


    ¡°Very good.¡± He called the curtains, ¡°Now, are you going to be doing a lot of travel everyday? By that, I mean will you be living on a private manor outside the city and commuting in.¡±


    Enoch pursed his lips, ¡°I don¡¯t think so, but I want something travel-ready. Would that make anything else more difficult?¡±


    Vitro shook his head, ¡°No, but outfits for inter-city and out-of-city people are different because of altitude, wind, sun, and more factors. I¡¯ve always been fond of out-city clothes.¡± The curtain parted, showing three mannequins with vastly different outfits. One was a form-fitting robe with a messenger bag across it. It had green tones, with some cream trimming. It had a large hood over the back, and it looked like it was protected from the sun. Or suns.


    The next was a baggy bunch of cloth, with tall leather boots, baggy pants, a caplet, half-cloak, and cowl. There was a hood as well, but this one wasn¡¯t the same material as the piece it was attached to. It looked to be leather. It had a messenger bag as well.


    The last one was similar to military dress. It was tunic, blouse, pants, short, hardy boots, with sleeves either rolled down or up. A rucksack hung off the back. It was the most plain yet functional looking one.


    Enoch like the middle, baggy option, ¡°How about that? It looks good, and heavy duty. I don¡¯t really know if I¡¯ll be flying around that much, but I ought to be prepared for it, right?¡±


    Vitro nodded, ¡°And the colors?¡±


    ¡°Mostly cream, but I want the hem of that cloak to be navy. And make the cowl ash gray.¡±


    ¡°Simple and versatile. Very good. Any design changes?¡±


    ¡°Nope. I like the way it looks.¡±


    Vitro wrote it down. ¡°All right! Lounge and work clothes honestly aren¡¯t that diverse unless you are talking to less common races or exotic professions. I don¡¯t take it you will be a sky-island face gardener?¡±


    Enoch recoiled, ¡°What even is that?¡±


    Vitro shook his head, ¡°You tell me. All I can tell you is that they have some strange requirements for their clothes. I take it you want them in a color that won¡¯t show too much dirt, and the lounge set as just normal, loose clothes?¡±


    Enoch shrugged, ¡°Sure. I probably won''t use lounge clothes that often, though.¡±


    Vitro smiled, ¡°You say that, but once you pet them on I have a feeling you¡¯ll find excuses to wear them.¡±


    ¡°Well, hopefully it is that good. I¡¯ll take what you think is best.¡±


    ¡°Very good. Here they are.¡± He gestured to the stage once more, where two mannequins sat wearing different clothes. One was a set of hardy canvas material with lots of breathability. It was orange, brown and black, in a flannel pattern. The pants were dark navy, with lots of bagginess and pockets all over. There was a cap, and the boots were thick leather that went up to just beneath the knee.


    The lounge-wear was essentially sweatpants, slippers, a long tee, with a big scarf that seemed excessively long and thick. Enoch raised an eyebrow at the sight. It was pretty much his normal everyday clothes on earth. Minus the scarf. Vitro looked searchingly at Enoch, ¡°Is it to your liking?¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Yeah, all good. I have to say, I thought your lounge stuff would look different, but it¡¯s really just what I used to wear where I came from.¡±


    Vitro smiled happily, ¡°Very convenient then. Now, all of the clothes have been tailored to you, and the enchanted set should be ready tomorrow. You can take the other three sets now, though.¡±


    ¡°How do you even know my measurements?¡± Enoch asked, confused.


    ¡°Ah, we have our secrets, good Mr. Aadland. I guarantee the clothes will fit exactly how you want them to.¡± Vitro gave a conspiratorial smile, and Enoch felt a bit stifled.


    He cleared his throat, ¡°Alright, how much do I owe you?¡±


    Vitro pulled out his notepad, scribbled a few things down, then squinted, ¡°Well, normally the price would come out to  twenty-seven gold and fifty-three silver, but I can knock it down to a flat twenty-five gold if you make a promise to do business with only our tailory in the future. Of course contingent on us providing you with satisfactory service through each transaction.¡±


    Enoch thought for a moment, and wasn¡¯t really sure he wanted to hitch himself to one tailor, even if by word alone. He shook his head, ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll just pay the full price. I¡¯ll probably come back here in the future, but I¡¯d like to see all the shops around here before I make a commitment like that.¡±


    Vitro stuffed a wry smile, ¡°No problem. Are you using coins or card?¡±


    Enoch raised an eyebrow, ¡°Card?¡± It was a jarring thing to here in a fantasy world.


    Vitro nodded, ¡°It is a new service the Crawling Bank is offering. They¡¯ve pioneered a new kind of small, long distance enchantment that is connected to the main vault, where it reads how much coinage you¡¯ve deposited there, and gives it to the merchant on your behalf when you make a purchase.¡±


    Enoch laughed, ¡°Wow¡­ That¡¯s cool, but I don¡¯t have one. I¡¯ll pay coin, but thanks for telling me about it.¡± Enoch pulled out his bag, opening it up and snagging a handful of gold coins. He counted them out, twenty-eight, and handed them over, ¡°Do you have change?¡±


    Vitro took the coins while nodding, reaching into an unseen pouch at his side and extracting forty-seven silver, handed them to Enoch. ¡°I¡¯ll go fetch your purchases. Feel free to peruse the floor in the meantime.¡± He turned heel and left, Enoch following him out the door and instead of sticking around, just walked to a visible spot by the front door. He passed the time by counting how much gold Ripley had given him, and it was far more than he¡¯d initially thought. It was nearly four-hundred gold, and one platinum. That was nearly fifty-thousand dollars in American value. Enoch vowed to return most of it right away, and the rest paid back later.


    Vitro came up with three covered hangers with clothes on them. ¡°Here we are. I just spoke with our inscriptionist and he says he will be done tomorrow morning. It will be waiting for you to pick up.¡±


    Enoch took the clothes, ¡°Ok. You have a good night, Vitro.¡±


    ¡°You as well.¡±


    Enoch threw the clothes over his shoulder and made his way back to the mayor¡¯s office. It was on top of a massive tower in the middle of the city. If Enoch was remembering his time in Chicago right, the mayor¡¯s building was taller than any building he¡¯d seen in the windy city, and quite a bit more architectural as well. It wasn¡¯t the same boring limestone as its surroundings, instead using what looked like yellow bricks. Each one had an enchantment that was extended to the bricks around it, which basically formed a mesh of enchantments that strengthened each other.


    He stepped inside a bathroom nearby, changing into his brand-new suit, and then walked up to the front of the building. Ripley was sitting, eyes closed, on a bench, and opened his eyes as Enoch got within earshot. He looked Enoch up and down, raising his eyebrow more and more at the bright suit, ¡°Certainly didn¡¯t go with the usual, eh? A suit is an interesting choice already, but in those colors, you¡¯re bound to stand out.¡±


    Enoch looked himself over once more, ¡°I think it looks good. And standing out isn¡¯t so bad, right?¡±


    Ripley wobbled his head side to side, ¡°Well, it''s only bad if you don¡¯t perform like someone who stands out. Come on, it¡¯s nearly time for the meeting.¡±


    Enoch nodded and they headed into the building.

 Chapter 8: Reconsider

    Archibald walked through Brakiat, only whimpering occasionally when a very rude citizen would shove him aside when he veered even a hair¡¯s breadth into their path. It was hard not to in the thick foot traffic of the city. The only pro to the thick crowd, in Archibald¡¯s opinion, was that it offered a surprising amount of warmth. Brakiat¡¯s cold climate was far worse than the Sanctuary¡¯s, and Archibald theorized it to be because the Sanctuary was on top of a major pocket of magma, only kept from erupting by the powerful magic of the Ancestor.


    After another traumatizing half-hour of jostling through the streets, Archibald made it to the SMAC. He wandered inside, the traffic instantly gone, and travelled over to the counter, where a clerk was sitting, reading a book. Archibald walked up, clearing his throat. The clerk ignored him, keeping on reading with a lost expression.


    Archibald was getting frustrated, but he didn¡¯t want to say anything for fear of starting a fight. So he waited. And waited. He waited until another of the few mercs in Brakiat came in, stomping over to the desk and getting behind Archibald. The merc looked quizically between Archibald and the clerk, waiting only for about thirty seconds before he stepped over to the counter and gave it a smack so hard it shook the floor. The clerk seemed to have been shot from a cannon the way he hopped out of his chair, nearly coming to attention the way soldiers do before glaring at the merc. The merc just smirked, stepping behind Archibald and giving him a slap on the shoulder, ¡°Must be new ¡®ere. This lazy bag o¡¯ bones still ¡®as a job for reasons beyond me. Ya¡¯ve gotta give him a right startle to get him doing anything.¡±


    Archibald just nodded thankfully to the man, turning back to the clerk, who glared angrily at the merc. Archibald nearly spoke when the clerk scathingly pointed a finger at the merc, ¡°I swear to all the gods, you muscle-head, pink-eyed, lard-brain of a man, if you do that again, I¡¯ll see your license revoked!¡±


    The merc grinned, ¡°Sure ya will. Now get on with it.¡± Archibald sighed, just wanting to move on to the next town.


    ¡°Can I please sign up?¡± He asked the clerk, his voice barely heard by the furious man. Still fuming, the clerk grabbed a ledger, crystal, pen and a badge blank.


    ¡°Name, age, race, gender, origin state, facets, and intended scope of work. Fill it all out then put your hand on the crystal and infuse as much brilliance into it as you can. After that, I¡¯ll give you a badge.¡±


    Archibald nodded and nearly began to fill it out there until he heard the big merc clear his throat. Archibald looked at him to see the behemoth pointing at a small row of desks to the side. Laughing nervously, Archibald grabbed the stuff and moved over to the desks. When he was done filling it out, it looked pretty honest¡­ for the most part.


    <i>Name: Archibald</i>


    <i>Age: 17</i>


    <i>Race: Studkin</i>


    <i>Gender: Male</i>


    <i>Origin State: Brakiat/Northern Territories</i>


    <i>Facets: (2/4) Body, Nature</i>


    <i>Number of Powers Revealed: 5</i>


    <i>Intended Scope of Work: I want to be deployed as a healer as needed.</i>


    Archibald sighed, not liking the fact he was being dishonest. He actually did have a family name, Chrissex, but he thought it best to hide it. Also, in spite of him looking like a studkin, that isn¡¯t quite what he was. And his origin state wasn¡¯t too far off from what he put.


    He went back to the counter, the big merc long since gone, to find the clerk back at his book. Archibald, annoyed, dropped the book onto the counter. The heavy ledger made a loud and shaky thud, thankfully catching the clerk¡¯s attention. He opened it to the page he¡¯d filled out, nodded while closing it and looked to the crystal ball, ¡°You need to fill that.¡±


    Archibald nodded, ¡°I know, I just wanted to do it in front of you. In case something goes wrong.¡±


    The clerk whiffled, ¡°I¡¯ve done this a thousand times and nothing has ever gone wrong. Just infuse the crystal.¡±


    Archibald nodded, setting his hands on the crystal and infusing it with brilliance. The crystal seemed to have every color to ever exist swirl into it, staying separated in a thousand little strands of colors. Two stood out though: a rich red pulsing hue, along with a teal strand. They dominated the spectrum of colors, but still only took up about ten percent of the space.


    When he was done, the clerk grabbed the ledger, ball and badge blank, bringing them over to a big, brick column with a hole on one side of it. He set it all inside and it disappeared in a flash. A minute or so later, another flash, and the badge and ledger had returned, along with an empty crystal ball. ¡°Here you go. You''re a merc now. Oh, wait, no. You¡¯re actually a healer merc? That¡¯s rare. Well, either way you are now entitled to the use of SMACs in all regions of the globe. Within these compounds there are places to sleep, food and powdered sapphire, as well as specialty shops that sell specialty gear or information tailored to that region.¡±


    Archibald was surprised, ¡°Wait, that¡¯s it? No approval process or test?¡±


    The guy waved his hand dismissively, ¡°Please. Mercs have a way of either growing into the work or getting the hell out. Whether alive or dead. That isn¡¯t really our problem. Everyone¡¯s responsible for their own survival.¡±


    Archibald just shook his head and turned to a set of stairs with a sign next to them saying ¡°Sleeping Quarters.¡± He hustled up and found the nearest room. It was, being generous, tiny. The bed was barely large enough for a person and the space on the floor was just enough for longer weapons, a pack, and a small spot for standing. Archibald had grown used to these places. Quickly he offloaded his stuff into a spot on the floor and crashed into his bed, drifting off to sleep in preparation for the long trek ahead of him.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡­


    Enoch had said he wasn¡¯t nervous, but that turned out to be a lie. To be fair, he had also thought that, but still. The mayor had apparently requested to have the talk with Enoch alone, Ripley set aside.


    Enoch wasn¡¯t stupid and he¡¯d noticed that Ripley was a somewhat idolized figure. The reason for that was still unknown, but the fact that he was basically fawned over wherever he went meant he was a person who made it difficult to deny his request, even if Ripley didn¡¯t mean to be that way. If he had to guess at the reason for why the mayor wanted to talk alone it was because he wanted to make a good decision rather than one simply made to please Ripley. Enoch respected the man for it, and Ripley too for not making a fuss.


    ¡°You¡¯re good to go, Mr. Aadland. The mayor will see you now.¡± the receptionist said. Enoch nodded to the man and walked through the door opened for him by the receptionist. His first impression of the mayor was that he was something of a snazzy dresser. The man was dressed in dull gold, cream, orange, black and white. His clothes were a jumble, but they were intentionally that way. Enoch was able to loosely place the outfit as something he¡¯d seen at Vitro¡¯s tailory. It was somewhere between a suit and a robe. The most standout feature on him was the large statuette hanging from a red chain around his neck. It depicted a cheetah, and was surprisingly something Enoch knew about. There were only ten of them in existence, and each one was not only powerful, but also extremely historical. Wearing one meant you were the chief of an Animus Clan.


    Funny enough, the man was a human. Somewhere back in history, the animus houses had to set aside their racial purity and welcome other races into the house, making it a rather rare thing to see an actual member of an Animus house.


    The mayor stood up, reaching out a hand, ¡°Greetings, Mr. Aadland. I¡¯ve been told much about you.¡±


    Enoch took his hand firmly, ¡°And you want to know if it is true.¡±


    The mayor grinned, ¡°How blunt.¡±


    Enoch sighed, ¡°I hope you¡¯ll forgive any rudeness on my part. My etiquette wasn¡¯t really a priority in the crash course to Praeda I got.¡±


    The mayor gestured to a seat next to Enoch while taking his own. Enoch sat while the mayor started talking, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I am aware of your circumstances. It is probably one of the very few areas in which I know more than your friend Ripley.¡±


    Enoch perked up, ¡°You¡¯ve seen my situation before? Do you know how I can get home?¡±


    ¡°No, but I have seen your ilk make lives for themselves. Now, Ripley wanted me to get you started on a career path that would both keep you out of danger yet also show you how great it is to be a merc: I am not doing that. Well, unless you want to. Truthfully, he didn¡¯t even want me to tell you that, but I see you as a man, not a child. Young as you might be, agency is important and Ripley can forget that what¡¯s best for someone logically might not be best for them emotionally or realistically.¡±


    Enoch frowned, ¡°Before we go any further, I want to know what extent you are willing to help me, as well as what you expect in return.¡±


    The mayor burst out laughing, ¡°Do you truly come from a place with no magic? You must.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that got to do with it?¡±


    ¡°Everything,¡± The mayor said with a smile, ¡°I¡¯m Ruby-rank, son, and there isn¡¯t much that I can¡¯t do, societally speaking. I¡¯m what one might call a bigshot. My only motivation for helping you is to, one, be a good person, and two, to have the House owe me one. But I don¡¯t want to just drop you into some position that you don¡¯t want. I don¡¯t expect anything from you unless you one day reach Diamond. Though I doubt you will.¡±


    Enoch squinted, ¡°Humor me. If I reach Diamond, what do you want?¡±


    The mayor grinned, ¡°I like your gumption. But Diamond rank isn¡¯t something one can reach with some time and effort. It requires something outside mortal comprehension. Very few have reached it.¡±


    Enoch sighed, ¡°Fine. What do you think is best for me, though? I have no experience in any magical field and even technical fields.¡±


    The mayor leaned back, ¡°What interests you?¡±


    ¡°Nearly everything I¡¯ve seen since coming to Praeda. Facets, sky islands, magic, aspects, different races, new animals, new cultures and new food. To be honest, travelling has always been a dream of mine, too. Probably doesn¡¯t narrow it down, does it?¡±


    The mayor shook his head, ¡°It actually does. As I¡¯m sure Ripley has told you, being a state mercenary would get you all that, more, and boatloads of wealth should you play your cards right. But you aren¡¯t a man of violence, I hear. Or a man of danger. I feel inclined to let you know that danger is tied to all of the things you claim to like.¡±


    Enoch sunk further into his chair, ¡°I¡¯m no coward, mind you. If danger isn¡¯t something I can avoid feasibly, then I can do it. I¡¯d just rather not make violence my life. Does that make sense?¡±


    The mayor frowned, ¡°Mercs aren¡¯t all about violence, though. Most of them would argue that the job is more about protecting people and order.¡±


    ¡°Still. If that end comes about through violence then I¡¯m good. I¡¯ve been a fighter before, and it made me feel hollow even though it was for a good cause. I felt like a sin-eater, doing evil so others would not have to. I just don¡¯t want that feeling again.¡±


    The mayor looked thoughtful, ¡°Well, I can respect an experienced opinion¡­ I still think you¡¯re missing out, but I¡¯ll leave it there. Your other options are becoming a scout or team manager. Both of those jobs are dangerous in their own ways, but neither involves fighting.¡±


    Enoch shrugged, ¡°I¡¯ve heard a lot about scout-work. What does it entail?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s pretty simple, really. Local government hears about some strange phenomena, dispatch a scout to investigate, and, well, you investigate. If you want to become a scout though, you have to pass <i>very</i> rigorous training and screening.¡±


    ¡°What about team manager?¡±


    The mayor laughed, ¡°It¡¯s nearly a joke of a position, I think. Basically, you would take on the role of managing a mercenary band when not on contract. Problem is, mercenaries aren¡¯t exactly an easily wrangled bunch. Not all of them are difficult to contain, but most just want to have fun when off work. You¡¯d have to be a hard son of a gun to make them listen to you.¡±


    Enoch sat in silence for a moment. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about me as a scout.¡±


    ¡­


    Iridianna held the tears in her eyes, not letting them fall. She knew that if she turned back she wouldn¡¯t leave. So she kept on walking, bag on her back, staff in left hand, and her dad¡¯s final gift in her right hand. She walked across the barren dust that made up the edge of the holy highlands.


    After what felt like years of walking, she came to the side of the road and sat on a large rock, still holding down her tears. She opened her still-clenched hand, gazing dazedly at the gift her father had given her: a paint facet. They were rare, sought-after, and ludicrously expensive. Iridianna knew the moment she¡¯d seen it that it wasn¡¯t something her father had procured within the short notice of her announcing her departure. No, this was something he had probably saved money for through most of Iridianna¡¯s life to get for her.


    The thoughtfulness of the gift was what made her truly hate the fact that she was leaving the poor man alone. But it would be equally terrible should her father never see her achieve independence and find a sense of self. That¡¯s why she still held down the tears.


    Iridianna grit her teeth and shoved the facet in her rucksack, where it was concealed. She got up and set back down the path again, headed south for Aordia.

 Chapter 9: Now Were Talkin

    ¡°Scout?¡± Ripley asked unsurely, ¡°I thought you were dissuaded by the risk involved?¡±


    Enoch shrugged as he sat at the bench he¡¯d found Ripley on outside the mayor¡¯s building. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t <i>like</i> the risk, but I can put up with it. The only reason I told you that is because, and I don¡¯t mean to offend you here, that you seem a bit biased toward the mercenary scene. I wanted an opinion from someone who saw value in non-mercenaries as well.¡±


    Ripley sighed, ¡°That would make sense from your perspective I suppose. However let me assure you that I do not for even a moment doubt the monumental role non-combatants play in the safety of cities. In fact, I believe life would be a rather dreary and boring place without them. After all, they make things comfortable, effective, and widely available. Not to mention how much they make our gear.¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Fair enough. Still, I¡¯m glad I talked to him. He was pretty knowledgeable. I guess being nearly four-hundred will do that to someone¡­ Still weird to think about.¡±


    Ripley chuckled and looked up. It had fallen deep into the night when Enoch had concluded his meeting with the mayor. The stars were bright in the sky, and Enoch followed Ripley¡¯s gaze upward. He smiled widely, ¡°You know, have you heard of light pollution? Probably not¨C¡±


    ¡°Indeed. We¡¯ve always put an end to it when it arises.¡± Ripley nodded, his eyes reflecting some memory within.


    Enoch shrugged, ¡°Well, anyways. Light pollution is nearly world-wide where I¡¯m from. I mean, the midwest and some remote island nations probably have little to none, but still. I haven¡¯t seen a night this clear¡­ ever.¡±


    Ripley cocked his head, ¡°I suppose your world doesn¡¯t have brilliance then. Disregarding its effects on magic, I think it would indeed be a pity to have a view of the stars obscured so often. I actually have a large skylight so I can look at the stars while I sleep.¡±


    Enoch nodded, squinting as he looked closer at a constellation. He tapped Ripley on the shoulder then pointed at it, ¡°What¡¯s that? It looks¡­ no, it¡¯s definitely moving. It looks like a spider?¡±


    ¡°What? Ah, the Star Spider. A strange thing. A lot is unknown about it. The only thing we know for certain is that it has been around since before recorded history. Even the strongest experts in divination cannot scry back far enough for it not to appear. Most have given up researching it.¡±


    Enoch shook his head. ¡°Well, it¡¯s late and I need to go find somewhere to sleep. An inn or hotel or something. I¡¯ll see you some other time, Ripley, and thanks for all your help. I won¡¯t forget it.¡±


    Ripley, still looking at the stars, chewed his lip for a moment. ¡°What¡¯s your plan right now? Is anything scheduled?¡±


    Enoch nodded and pulled out a small folded note from his pocket. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m going to go and settle in for the next three days. Kind of figure out the city. Then I go to the State Mercenary Association Compound here in Velocity and register as an aspiring scout so I can take a readiness class. Then, well, I don¡¯t really know. Get to work, I guess.¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°How would you like to take that class with me instead? Room and board included.¡±


    Enoch looked down at his hand, ¡°I appreciate it, Ripley, but I know how much the regular course costs, let alone with someone like you. I¡¯m not an idiot, you¡¯re clearly some kind of respected merc teacher. Rooming in your house, too? That¡¯s a nice place, with a lot of people who-¡±


    Ripley held his hand up, ¡°I¡¯m not asking for nothing now. Call it an investment slash sign of friendship. I want to help you, true. But I also stand to gain should you accomplish your goal. Access to a new world is¡­ well, literally invaluable as it hasn¡¯t ever happened. Also, people who come from other worlds can¡¯t be bound for a simple and unremarkable life. I want in on the action, so to speak.¡±


    Enoch laughed, ¡°So, to be clear, you¡¯re giving me a fortune-worth of education, room and board, as well as friendship with a super-teacher¡­ all for theoretical stuff that will only pay off very far or very randomly in the future? No immediate or guaranteed gains for you?¡±


    Ripley tossed his head side to side, ¡°No, but that¡¯s where the genuinely wanting to help you part comes in. That sign of friendship I mentioned means something to me. My friends are an¡­ odd group, but also ones I trust and respect without fault. I¡¯ve seen your personality, as well as your motivation. I respect you Enoch. It might seem strange to say, seeing as all I¡¯ve really seen you do is be amazed by magic and fall from the sky, but it¡­ well I¡¯ll explain that later.¡±


    Enoch nodded, ¡°Feeling¡¯s mutual. Not many would do what you¡¯ve done for a stranger. Hell, I don¡¯t think I would have if they just popped in my house bare naked and then didn¡¯t know what was happening.¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Ripley held out a hand, ¡°So how about it? Either way I¡¯ll say we¡¯re friends now.¡±


    Enoch looked around the city, ¡°Deal. But I have something to ask¡­¡±


    Ripley nodded with a big smile, ¡°What is it?¡±


    Enoch looked up, ¡°Are we taking a balloon up again?¡±


    Ripley guffawed before quickly stopping at a scathing look, ¡°No¡­¡± He waved his hand in circular pattern, a cloth sheet seeming to fly from it and begin to spin vertically. It was soon a billowing sphere of cloth, and Enoch wasn¡¯t sure what he was looking at. Ripley pointed at it, ¡°Behold, my portal power. It is one of my¡­ stranger powers, but it is very useful. In we go.¡± He walked straight into the ball, the cloth quickly wrapping him, then unwrapping to reveal nothing.


    Enoch sighed, ¡°There¡¯s gonna be a lot of sketchy looking magic in my future now, isn¡¯t there?¡± He decided to stop caring as he walked straight into it like Ripley had. For a split second it felt like he¡¯d been buried alive as the cloth bound him tightly, but then the feeling was gone as he was spat out by the ball onto the dock of Ripley¡¯s island.


    The feeling was incredibly bizarre. The feeling between incredibly fast and instantaneous was far more different than he¡¯d thought it would be. The feeling on his skin alone of the immediately different temperature, air density, moisture, and even light. It was jarring and left Enoch something akin to dizzy, though that wasn¡¯t quite right.


    After recovering for a moment, Enoch licked his lips, ¡°Wowza¡­ Is that how you normally get around?¡±


    Ripley shook his head, ¡°No. But I forgot to tell you something. As a teacher, I like to be strict and orderly. So from here until I deem you fit to be a scout, you <i>will </i>do as I say, how I say. If it seems overbearing to you, look at my student¡¯s death rate next to the fun, laid-back teachers. There¡¯s a reason my family¡¯s way is copied by so many.¡±


    Enoch nodded, though he was caught off-guard by the attitude shift. Even Ripley¡¯s tone had become more authoritative. ¡°Ah, I¡¯d bet¡­ But how is that relevant right now? Aren¡¯t we going to bed?¡±


    Ripley smiled, and not the simple and shifty one he normally gave. It was the smile of a man about to put another through hell, ¡°Not a chance. The day isn¡¯t over yet. There is a lot to do before you can be a scout: bodily training, spiritual training, monster physiology and composition as well as all the known types. You need all your facets and powers, as well as gear and specialty identification. Ah, let¡¯s not forget procedural paper-work, hierarchy, scope of responsibility as a scout, as well as the potential of becoming an independent scout. Also, Enoch, I need to grind within your skull a <i>lot</i> of what some would call benign knowledge.¡±


    Enoch was nearly swept off his feet by the torrent, ¡°Whoa whoa. No way even one of those things is getting done tonight.¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°Indeed, but what we¡¯re doing tonight wasn¡¯t on my list.¡±


    Enoch looked unsurely, ¡°Seemed like there was a lot on that list. What did you leave out?¡±


    ¡°A lot, but what I¡¯m referring to is arguably one of the more important factors: how to eat.¡± Ripley said, dead seriously.


    Enoch raised an eyebrow, ¡°Oh. Well, I¡¯m not really hungry right now¨C¡±


    ¡°Nope. That¡¯s why. As merc or scout, your bodily health is, obviously important. One of the most important factors of that is nutrition. As you go up in ranks, your diet shifts from normal things to different energies. I derive a lot of energy from wind and the oceans, but others are different. You, Enoch, require some magic that your diet so far has not provided.¡±


    ¡°Well, let¡¯s go then.¡±


    ¡­


    Bowen was inundated with realizations. None of which he¡¯d come to the city for. Three weeks prior, Bowen approached his father, letting him know that he was setting off to find his facets. Without much more than a hug and small care package, Bowen was sent on his way. His parents were confident in Bowen¡¯s survival, so they knew he would return sooner or later.


    But, now, Bowen wasn¡¯t sure his father would accept him back should he return. Bowen¡¯s father, Tregzial Caliphate, was¡­ a notable figure among swordsmen. His mother Christy was too, though not nearly to the degree of Tregzial. It was the Caliphate lineage to inherit the title his father wore, as Tregzial had taken it from his father. But Bowen had come to a realization after he left home and performed his training in the fringe city of Daisy¡¯s Cape. It was a rather plain city with little to write home about except for the impressive docking feature. There were few docks like it in the world.


    The realization Bowen had come to was that swordsmanship was not necessarily what had enamoured him his entire life. Perhaps from an outside perspective it might seem obvious, but it was a bolt from the blue for Bowen. The thing that had always motivated Bowen was not swordsmanship, but actually practicing it within nature. The city didn¡¯t agree with him, and Bowen found himself longing for his wooded training spot next to the wildflower hills.


    After another week, Bowen finally gave up on forcing it, instead sitting down and trying introspection. Did he truly never find swordsmanship that appealing? It wasn¡¯t bad, per se, but it wasn¡¯t something Bowen could see himself pursuing in order to find himself. Even after a week, Bowen couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that his passion this whole time had been for nature rather than the blade.


    With this realization came a radical shift in Bowen¡¯s approach to finding his facets. His family, being of rather old tradition, strongly encouraged its youth to leave and not return until they had  travelled and found facets that truly reflected who they were. They were still welcome, of course, but it was a sign of non-commitment to abandon one¡¯s search for things that reflect oneself.


    Bowen had planned to travel to southern Aordia, seeking the most promising House of this generation: Ripley House. He was going to see if he could learn anything from him as the man not only had a reputation as one of the best teachers among the current generation, but also one of the better swordsmen too. In fact, unconventional swordsmanship was his forte.


    But, if nature was where Bowen felt he¡¯d find his path, then nature was where he would go. It wasn¡¯t too much of a shift, though he wouldn¡¯t be passing through Velocity anymore. He would go straight to Skyplunge, then head for the northern part of the Holy Highlands. It was a major shift, but one Bowen felt confident in.

 Chapter 10: Regret

    There are times in life where you just can¡¯t win. For example, if someone you were greatly indebted to was screaming at you, forcing you to do crazy feats of physical capability as well as mental dexterity.  Should you refuse or retaliate? If you do retaliate, then you¡¯re spitting in the face of the man¡¯s hard work and dedication to you, but if you say nothing, then you are submitting to the abuse.


    Enoch had found a solution though. Well, it felt like one to him and him alone. He screamed. As loud and as angrily as he could. His scream wasn¡¯t profound or meaningful in any sense; just angry. It only fuelled Enoch¡¯s anger when the source of it, Ripley, laughed at his shouts.


    Right now was one such time where Enoch was about to scream into the clear blue sky. Ripley was sitting on a bench in the courtyard while making Enoch keep track of ten different mini drones that would randomly swoop in and zap him. His job was to not just keep track of them all, but to also actively get zapped on the right palm each time. No matter what.


    Ripley denied all accusations that he was controlling them, as Enoch knew something was up when at first there were ten drones, then a surprise attack revealed an eleventh. The number had only grown since then, and it was beginning to culminate in another scream.


    Before it reached that point though, the drones all withdrew simultaneously and settled onto the soft grass. Enoch sat down without hesitation, closing his weary eyes and focusing on his breathing as Ripley had taught him. Ripley approached.


    ¡°I¡¯ve gotta say, Enoch. I¡¯m impressed.¡± He said as he presented a waterskin to Enoch. It was one of the first practical enchanted devices he¡¯d seen, as it not only had infinite water, but it also came out quite cold.


    Enoch drank his fill before capping it and handing it back, ¡°How so.¡±


    Ripley stuffed it in a pocket too small and sat next to Enoch, ¡°In nearly everything. If I weren¡¯t actively monitoring your soul, I¡¯d believe you to be at the peak of Jet.¡±


    Enoch just offered a confused look, to which Ripley nodded, ¡°It may seem random what I¡¯ve done throughout the week, but those exercises were to¨C¡±


    ¡°-get a baseline for my capability and willingness to go far. I¡¯m aware.¡± Enoch said testily, instantly feeling bad about his tone. He went to apologize when Ripley laughed and nodded.


    ¡°Exactly. Well, let me tell you, the only lacking mental faculty you have is gauging your own capability. You say that you feel no different than how you did before coming here, yet from your accounts, I¡¯ve determined you are, at least, six times stronger, faster, and more durable than you¡¯d been before.¡±


    Enoch was doubtful, ¡°How? I really don¡¯t feel much different, and there¡¯s no way one facet does that to someone.¡±


    Ripley grinned expectantly, ¡°I have a question only your book can answer. Do you happen to know your magnitudes?¡±


    Enoch shook his head at the unfamiliar term, but took out the book. It flipped open on its own to his status page, and a new spot was filled in. Curious, Enoch looked closer.


    <i>Magnitudes: (Abnormal)</i>


    <i>Power: 10</i>


    <i>Precision: 9</i>


    <i>Potency: 10</i>


    <i>Permeability: 10</i>


    <i>Presence: 10</i>


    Enoch just showed Ripley the book, the man¡¯s face lighting up in affirmation. ¡°I knew it!¡± Ripley said hotly. ¡°That isn¡¯t normal, just so you know. Take a look at my magnitudes.¡±


    Enoch touched Ripley with the book, and the page filled out. Enoch only looked at the magnitudes.


    <i>Magnitudes:</i>


    <i>Power: 8</i>


    <i>Precision: 8</i>


    <i>Potency: 4</i>


    <i>Permeability: 5</i>


    <i>Presence: 5</i>


    Enoch squinted at the figures, ¡°You¡¯re way higher rank than me, why are my values higher than yours?¡±


    ¡°Because magnitudes don¡¯t work like that. Unfortunately, there isn¡¯t a way to measure these stats directly, but this is a pretty accurate method of determining roughly where someone is. Think of it more like a variable. For example, you have a far higher potency magnitude than me, but our actual potency is vastly in my favor. One thousand times four is still greater than four times ten. ¡° Ripley said.


    ¡°That makes sense. So I guess my magnitudes are pretty good then, right?¡± Enoch asked, feeling a smile come on.


    Ripley shook his head, ¡°No, they aren¡¯t just good, they¡¯re nearly perfect. And that isn¡¯t normal. You see, the total value of someone¡¯s magnitudes is around thirty, give or take a few points. There are some deviations here and there, but this is the greatest one I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    Enoch frowned, ¡°Mine nearly adds up to fifty. Is there a downside?¡±


    Ripley looked uncertain, ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure. The only thing I¡¯ll say is that there <i>has</i> been some folks with similar numbers before. Just¡­ well, one day you¡¯ll find out. Its probably best you don¡¯t know yet.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what? You can¡¯t just tease me like that!¡± Enoch protested.


    ¡°Would you rather I lie to you and tell you that your condition is unique? Well, it might still be, but I have a theory that, I promise, would do more harm than good to you. For now, just appreciate the fact that you have something of an¡­ advantage, over others of your rank.¡± Ripley said. Enoch wanted to press further, but he saw it was a moot point with Ripley. He just shook his head.


    ¡°Fine. But how much of an advantage is it?¡± Enoch said, rereading the lists from each of them. It sounded like a good head start.


    Ripley shrugged, ¡°Depends. Really, all it means is that if you fail to adopt a skill it is only a matter of you not trying hard enough. Don¡¯t think those big numbers make you invincible: I¡¯d take an experienced person with all magnitudes of one over you right now. You have no sense for combat, lack training and don¡¯t even have a weapon.¡±


    Enoch twitched, ¡°I actually do have some fighting experience, thank you. My past is a little sordid. Not a lot, but a little.¡±


    Ripley looked unsure, ¡°Oh? I thought your world was one with most violence in the past?¡±


    Enoch snorted a laugh, ¡°Nah. Open violence is mostly gone, though some tensions were rising when I left. More personal conflicts, hidden conflicts, even good old small time warfare though¡­ still rampant. Firearm dealers aren¡¯t rich just cause they sell to idle military groups.¡±


    Ripley leaned in, ¡°I want to know more about this: that sounds like a thriving ground for private mercenary groups.¡± He frowned, ¡°Wait, were you a mercenary?¡±


    Enoch laughed, ¡°I <i>definitely</i> wasn¡¯t a mercenary. I wasn¡¯t involved in any of those affairs directly, I just like to research stuff like that. No, my history is more¡­ exotic and short lived. I¡¯ve mostly lived a normal life, with two notable exceptions. Chief among them being this little trip to Praeda. Second is when I used to be a combat chronicler.¡± Ripley looked confused, so Enoch elaborated, ¡°A combat chronicler is¡­ kind of like a spy, but for historical purposes. Basically I would infiltrate one of the groups in any given conflict. Most of the time it was the losing side, as their side of the story is often the first to be twisted by the winners.¡±


    Ripley looked intrigued, ¡°Interesting. Indeed, history is written by the victor. For how long did you do this?¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ Probably seven years. Nothing big-time. I normally just invaded PMCs or self-proclaimed militias. Sometimes even large protesting groups.¡± Enoch said. He sighed, ¡°I had my fair share of scraps when I was found where I wasn¡¯t supposed to be.¡±


    ¡°Oh? So you¡¯re already proficient in basic stealth, infiltration, and self defence?¡± Ripley asked, Enoch just now noticing the fire in the man¡¯s eyes. Enoch realized he¡¯d spilled one too many beans, and paled.


    ¡°No no no, Ripley! I was, eh, bush league! Trust me, I should be treated like a novice¡­¡± Enoch gave up halfway through. Ripley wasn¡¯t so easily fooled.


    The man laughed, ¡°That makes this easier! I can fast track you to the more advanced and magical parts of the scout position then. We still need to condition you, but most of the theory and experience is already there.¡±


    Enoch sighed, ¡°Fine. But, give me a crash course at the very least. I mostly did urban and social stealth. Not a lot of skulking going down where I was.¡±


    Ripley clapped his hands and the drones all buzzed to life. Enoch snarled, but Ripley held a hand up, ¡°We¡¯re moving on, now. You have near-perfect magnitudes and a decent font of experience with this field. I want to start you with a weapon, now. What kind of melee combat are you familiar with?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ Knives and hand-to-hand, but I wouldn¡¯t call my capability anything to write home about. But, I don¡¯t want to use either of them. What other options do I have as a scout?¡±


    Ripley brought Enoch over to a wall, where he tapped it and the whole thing parted to reveal a cross between modern and medieval versions of an armory. There were all sorts of cold weapons sitting meticulously in their homes along the wall and on cabinets in the middle. Enoch walked in, immediately grabbing a small fighting knife. It was well-made, but didn¡¯t have much use outside of fighting another man. Too small for animals, too dangerous for everyday activity, and too deadly in the right hands. Enoch sighed and put it back on its spot.


    Ripley gestured grandly, ¡°Behold, my armoury. If you haven¡¯t noticed by now, I like to collect things. Weapons and armour are no exception. Look around and find something you like. We¡¯ll see if it gels with you.¡±


    Enoch squinted at a humongous war-pick, nearly as long as he was tall. ¡°Surely you have a suggestion for stealthy scout weapons?¡±


    Ripley shook his head, ¡°You¡¯re still bound by thoughts without magic. Sure, weapon archetypes have their place, but overall you still want to use what you¡¯re most comfortable with. Your magic will smooth over any flaws your intended use of the weapon has. For example, I¡¯ve known many hive extermination specialist to use large lances and unruly battle axes. One without magic might think that such a stealthy occupation would require a small, nimble weapon to kill the queen undetected, or even to delay her death until the hit squad could withdraw. But, Melissa Hardrand and her huge lance had an inseparable relationship. One of her powers, Delayed Death, lets her inflict a lethal blow without the target being aware. As she grew in power, so too did the length of time she could extend her target¡¯s demise.¡±


    Enoch grabbed a scimitar, ¡°Strange that you still have stereotypes, then. Wouldn¡¯t that be a foreign concept if magic makes it so easy to cover those weaknesses?¡±


    ¡°Well, yes and no. A dagger is both an obvious and good choice for an assassin. But if an assassin happens to be better with a warhammer than a dagger, then they should use a warhammer by virtue of it making them a better combatant.¡± Ripley noticed Enoch¡¯s hesitance remain, so he just shook his head, ¡°What kind of weapon is ideal to you, simply in terms of what you like?¡±


    Enoch didn¡¯t answer right away, instead walking over to a display that had caught his eye almost immediately after entering. He grabbed the long blade gently, surprised at its weight. He looked it up and down, thinking of how misunderstood of a weapon it seemed to be. Just moments earlier he¡¯d considered it an instrument of the strong and fierce, but with it in his hands it seemed to be a fine-tuned piece belonging to a dancer. ¡°These fascinate me.¡± Enoch said, still looking at the sword and experimenting with its weight.


    ¡°A claymore? I¡¯m surprised. You seemed to me like you would prefer agile and low-profile arms. What interests you about them?¡±


    Enoch kept just kind of twirling the blade around, the feat quite easy in spite of the size. ¡°The dichotomy of it is what is interesting¡­ I mean, I¡¯ve never been a big nerd for what we call cold weapons, but I always thought a big, man-sized sword would be a herculan man¡¯s best friend. I grabbed it cause I thought it looked fun to use, but its actually quite agile.¡±


    Ripley nodded and took the blade cordially from Enoch, soon displaying a far more coherent and rhythmic sword dance. ¡°A claymore like this is easily misunderstood. Its size does not mean it requires lots of strength to use, but instead that it can accommodate such strength. Claymores and other large caliber blades are nearly universally made to be weapons of momentum, investment and patience.¡± He stopped his movements, bringing the sword to rest on both his palms between Enoch and himself. He offered it to Enoch while speaking, ¡°They are actually quite versatile, if one ignores their¡­ conspicuity. Do you want to give it a try?¡±


    Enoch took the sword, ¡°Sure.¡± He walked with Ripley out of the armory. The drones were still at attention, and Ripley clapped his hands, causing them to all return to their homes. He made another gesture and cloth came spewing from the man¡¯s back, forming a ring within the courtyard. It was surrounded by drapes and curtains, with one opening just big enough for one to enter. As they walked in, Enoch felt a slight bit nervous. He had a feeling this was an arena, and Ripley was the only thing in here other than Enoch.


    Ripley stopped Enoch and kept walking. With his back turned, he began to speak, ¡°I feel fortunate you¡¯ve chosen the claymore. It isn¡¯t my most proficient weapon, but it is still easily one of the best in my repertoire of skills. I don¡¯t often find myself teaching those who take an interest in the claymore¡¯s two-sidedness, so you¡¯ll pardon me if I get too passionate.¡± He halted and exaggeratedly made an about face. He held out his hand, the first power Enoch saw coming back to life, but differently this time. The cloth ribboned from his skin, but this time far longer. The colorful cloth sword skeleton was soon encased in segmented crystal portions, and Ripley began twirling it about, the shape confusing Enoch as to whether it was solid or silky.


    Enoch gulped, ¡°You know I have no experience, at all, with this thing. Right?¡±


    Ripley smiled, ¡°I¡¯ll use a phrase I heard you say earlier that I quite liked. Ain¡¯t nothin to but to do it.¡± He skipped forward, small ribbons underneath his feet carrying him in a dizzying array of colors.


    Enoch grimaced and hated how the sword that he¡¯d sung the praises of just moments ago seemed to turn to a chunk of useless, heavy metal when he needed it. He haphazardly and without grace smacked away Ripley¡¯s sword, and was aware of how much handicap Ripley gave himself. Ripley¡¯s sword acted normally, as one rigid piece, and was momentarily sent careening away, only to loop around faster than before. Enoch saw Ripley barely moving his hands around, merely holding the handle aloft and guiding it to rotate.


    For a long time, Enoch and Ripley ¡°duelled.¡± Enoch quickly came to agree with the chosen method of teaching, as he felt like he was learning a lot. He still sucked, but he was understanding <i>why </i>he sucked. Toward the end, Enoch thought he could call himself a respectable novice.


    Ripley seemed refreshed as the curtained arena seemed to fade into the air. ¡°Well that was fun. You learn quite well.¡±


    Enoch was quite sweaty and had abandoned his shirt a while back. He didn¡¯t have a fancy set from Vitro¡¯s place, so he had to use Ripley¡¯s guest clothes. Which were just rough cotton tunics. They were rather comfy normally, but the sweat made them extraordinarily stifling. He chuckled at the comment, ¡°Thanks, but I know that had to have been hard for you. It isn¡¯t hard to see that you¡¯re holding back to a level that is, in my assumption, harder than going as hard as you can.¡±


    Ripley shrugged, ¡°Eh. I¡¯ve had lots of practice withholding strength in order to spar lower-ranked students. You and I is a rather large jump, but I have, if barely, had larger jumps in physical prowess. And you aren¡¯t terrible at sword fighting. Those knife skills you talked about might be giving you a hand there. You should show them to me some other time.¡±


    Enoch laughed, ¡°Thanks.¡± They both split up, plans for dinner long-discussed, and performed their post-training rituals. For Ripley, he sat in his office, making a detailed account of all Enoch¡¯s training. It included insights, weaknesses, willing flaws, flexible strengths, underutilized strengths, as well as all sorts of potential things like training regimens, combat and stealth ideologies, and even general power possibilities. Ripley always tried his best to leave powers out of the equation for people who trained with him before becoming fully-faceted, as he didn¡¯t want to make them regret a decision he led them to.


    Enoch on the other hand, took a shower, took a shot of revitalizing elixir, then wrote a far more sentimental and far less informative journal of the day¡¯s training. Ripley had suggested it, and Enoch found merit in the idea of keeping a record of his time on Praeda. After all, his family might enjoy it, and if he got back to Earth but couldn¡¯t come back, as well as losing access to his facets, he could revisit the memory. He enjoyed the retrospection journaling gave to every day. Things ignored in the moment they were discovered were cherished or learned from when thought about in a setting made specifically for that purpose. It made Enoch feel he was drawing more value from each day. Plus there was no tech or internet around to pull his attention away from his self-imposed task.


    After they each were ready, the pair met up in the dining hall. Dinner was brought out shortly.


    Enoch lowered his head for a moment, thinking of how to phrase his question. ¡°Hey¡­ What should I do after becoming a scout? I mean, I know the job and all that, but so far people have only told me its good for meeting people, not how it actually works.¡±


    Ripley nodded, ¡°I see. Well, scouts are both autonomous and assigned jobs. Scout and merc work are alike in many ways, so much so that some have pushed for the whole scout department be merged with ordinary mercs, only with a notation on their badge.¡±


    ¡°Sooo, what? There are just open scouting jobs that need done? How do you know where to investigate?¡±


    ¡°So the association has maps of the region it oversees, and the region is divided into subregions. There is a tracker of sorts in the local SMAC who¡¯s job is to make sure scouts thoroughly monitor all the subregions. For example, sky island such-and-such is nearly due for a routine investigation, so the tracker will post a contract for that area. On the other end of that, a scout is required to do so many jobs a week, depending on their record. They would walk into the office and pick out either one or a set of contracts to inspect for monsters, facets, aspects, criminal activity, as well as developing natural resources.¡±


    Enoch furrowed his brow, ¡°I thought scouts checked out monsters only?¡±


    Ripley wobbled his head, ¡°That is the primary job, but all the rest is stuff any good scout also pays attention to. Facets you find on missions are a great way to significantly boost your income.¡±


    Enoch put his head in his hands, ¡°Lots to learn, I guess.¡±


    Ripley set a hand on his shoulder, ¡°Aye¡­¡±