Endless Online: Oblivion's Blade
Page 18
Spell learned: Explosive Retribution. Level 30 Creo/Ignem dependent. (Too high a level for you, but when has that ever stopped you before?) Must save against Oblivion when embracing this spell. Cost (at your rank) 70 mana. Tip to the wise... don't cast this again until you're much more powerful. As if you'll listen. Ha ha.
Val shook and sobbed, vomiting as waves of agonizing dizziness washed over him, his gut clenching and heaving absolutely nothing, as he had not eaten since he had popped into existence, hours ago.
"By the gods. What did you do?"
Halvar, gazing down at Val. His face void of all emotion. Val shook all the harder, utterly spent, vulnerable, at the mercy of people who for all Val knew, wanted him dead. And honestly, would that be so bad? The hideous burning rippling through him was ungodly. He chuckled bitterly as he soon grew to accept the pain. Horrifically familiar, a stalker of old haunts that would never truly leave him be.
"I've never seen, I've never even heard of magic like that before." Gregor gazed at Val as if he were some fascinating prize. That or a hideous creature famed for exotic poisons, captivated by and loathing Val all at once.
"Yes, you have." Sten's voice, cold. Dispassionate. Or perhaps just tired. "He's a natural adept. He has to be. Or the reincarnation of whatever archmage called the villa above home. For all we know, it's only thanks to creatures like him that the Dominion rules this world with such a light touch. Bait the bear too hard, and you always run the risk it will strike back even if it kills him, and then your victory is Pyrrhic at best, when everything you fought to seize is going down in flames alongside your foe."
Val shook and moaned, even as the others gazed down.
"Stop it. Just stop it! Stop looking at him like that! He's a person, not a thing, and in case you didn't catch it, he risked his neck trying to save me!" The others blinked at Elise's words.
"Stupid kid," she whispered. "There's no such thing as heroes. Not really. Out there he would have been killed, had he dared to stick his neck out for whatever girl or boy the Darklords would claim as their own."
Sten spat. "He almost caught you in that damn blaze of his, and our blasters are now worthless. Halvar's mechware is down, so damn bright did that kid's magic blaze! Our chief security specialist now only has the use of one eye, thanks to him. We're lucky Halvar chose to go light with the mechware, sticking with biomeshes instead, or he'd be dead right now."
"It's not Val's fault! We didn't explain anything to him, and you made it damn clear he was to do everything he could to protect the group, taking point! Besides, you've been hounding him since the minute he came to! Why, Sten, does he remind you of someone? Someone you used to be before you got hard and cynical, realizing just how awful this galaxy really was, not a heroic tale to be found in it at all, no matter how damned lucky you are?"
Gentle hands reached down, touching Val's shoulders. He screamed in pain.
-Stop it- she hushed into his mind. -You're feeling backlash. You need to stop clenching so hard. You need to relax. Let go.-
Val opened his eyes, captivated by gentle orbs of violet, allowing himself to sink into their embrace as he breathed deep and sighed, doing his best to float away, imagining himself on a raft floating through gentle seas with the sun softly shining upon his sleepy form.
Then the crack of thunder, clouds heavy with grim tidings. An icy cold rain pelted into his weary soul. Memories, experiences, flashes of insight and potency not his own. Become his own, as insights gleaned into the inner workings of this reality crashed into him like a great wind of potential ever further on his journey, the tormented souls of spirits slain suddenly roaring through him... all their potential, all that they had ever been or could be. Not to be lost in meaningless heat death and dissolution but rather transformed, melding into every fiber of his being. Rewriting him. Redefining him. Making him something alien, strange, different.
His true self, emerging free at last from the shell within which he had been forged.
A world lost, a new identity gained.
You have gained one level! Or such an explanation will suffice for the massive quantizations that have infused your being since the moment you claimed awareness by a single act of will in a freak series of events as unlikely as creation itself, mirroring the mind and memories of a soul long dead. Reborn again only in the bittersweet memories you ascribe to a boy who died in a universe alien and strange. You, sentience, forged yourself on the passions and drive of one flawed boy desperate to save a girl forever beyond his reach. And now you are the combined stories of every spirit to fall to your blade, of every insight you have gained in forging yourself anew.
You are the memory of Valor Hunter... and you are so much more.
Congratulations! You have reached level 2. And now the catalyzation unavoidable shall occur. That which changes is an echo of what has always been, for cause and effect flow both ways in the quest for quantized harmony.
Val screamed as pain beyond pain rippled through him, that terrible blue bar he had so foolishly, so idiotically, reveled in seeing get closer and closer to full was at last overflowing.
Val was drowning within awful seas roaring and crashing, the howling screams of uncountable souls tearing through his psyche, and in a dreadful moment of epiphany he realized that if he gave into his grief, his despair, the pain wracking him, he would be lost forever, and another would take his place, would be and would always have been him, he just a figment of memory aiding its own creation.
NEVER!
Fury burned through despair. The soft gaze of a girl whose warm smile and gentle laugh had awoken such protective instincts somehow anchored him. He shuddered to think what had happened to her in the time he had been lost, however long that had been. Somehow he could fathom her even here, and like a specter of possibility shimmering on the stratospheric horizon, he sensed without seeing a vast, terrible dreadnought floating in gentle orbit, high above.
And Val gasped, though he had no body, sensing in that moment the screams emanating from a beautiful, fragile mind, ruthlessly plundered by a sentience strange and cold, feeding upon her like a ripe fruit, slowly draining her precious fragile life away, drop by drop.
Exultation and horror rung through Val as he crashed back into his body.
Julia was alive. And her soul was shrieking in unthinkable pain.
"My name is Valor Hunter and this life is mine! I claim it, all that I am, all that I was, all that I could ever be!" With that desperate shout ringing through his soul, Val crashed into himself once more, finding his mind and body reforged anew. Claiming those changes as his own, the changes he himself had retroactively made, who he had always been.
Skills could be learned. He even seemed to have a knack for it. What he chose to reforge, what he had reforged, was himself. Nothing seemed so important as his ability to influence his own destiny. His own reality. Willpower was representative of his focus. He had always been strong in resolve and temperament, and these trials would only make him stronger. (+1 Willpower, 1 of 7 points spent). Charisma, the gravity of the soul. How important you were to others, and as a corollary, how well you could sense their needs in turn. Val cared about others. He wanted to understand them better, and he wanted to matter to them in turn. (+1 to Charisma, 2 of 7 points spent). And luck, the final trait dealing with finding one's path through the universe. Whereas Willpower meant finding your own path, and Charisma was others taking an interest in the tale of your life, Luck was the universe itself taking an interest. And it would hardly care at all, so vast and indifferent it was. But if one measly point could avert a slowly building tidal wave of folly that might otherwise hit, awful mischance you never even saw coming? Val couldn't imagine not putting a point there. Had always put a point there. He had always been a bit luckier than he had thought. (+1 to Luck. 3 of 7 points spent).
Insight 17. Flashes of intuition and brilliance when everything suddenly clicked into place, when one blinked, seeing patterns, wondrous and strange, that perhaps a doze
n smarter students racing to memorize materials had completely overlooked. How good it felt, those times his teachers would raise their eyebrows in surprise and give a thoughtful nod, no doubt reevaluating the quiet kid in back who never scored that well on tests, but sometimes understood the deeper picture far better than his peers. There was no way he could boost this, it was a fundamental part of his being. But the more perceptive he was, the better he would be at seeing all the pieces of metaphoric and literal puzzles, to say nothing of spotting trouble before it hit.
Val could only hope increased alertness might help him understand his newest companions just a bit better. (+1 to Perception. 4 of 7 points spent.) He knew as well that the better he was at organizing and recalling lessons learned and the details of the daily experiences that defined him, the better off he would be. He had always wanted to learn faster, to concentrate better, to have a recall that could do his father proud. Perhaps it was just a matter of clearing his mind. Perhaps he had always had the potential, once the clutter of constant distraction was replaced with an ability to concentrate. To focus. Perhaps his meditation had helped him do more than just manage pain. (+1 to Scholarship. 5 of 7 points spent.)
Val was amazed by the strange skills that seemed to come to him so naturally since he had awoken, when so much of academia caused him nothing but headaches. He sensed he had a knack for this field of study as he did few others, so instead of focusing on specific spells or arcane arts, he meditated upon his raw potential, realizing his Mana and Psion pools had always been larger than he had first thought. (+10% to Mana, +10% to Psion, compounded. 7 of 7 points spent).
Val smiled, pleased with his greater sense of self, the awful vision of but moments ago now no more than the troubling echoes of a quickly forgotten dream. For he had claimed and defined himself utterly, and never had he felt so strongly connected to his destiny and potential than he did at that moment.
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Valor Hunter - Level 2
Primary Attributes
Strength 12
Vitality 13
Finesse 13
Quickness 16
Perception 17
Scholarship 11
Willpower 16
Charisma 10
Luck ?? +1
Health 10xVit+Str = 142
Survival (Health+(10xLevel)+Luck) = 162+?
Stamina 10xVit+Str= 142
Mana 110 (109 Accessible: 5.520 kg Elementium Stored)
Psion 110 (109 Accessible: 37.8 L Silbion Stored)
Insight 17
Base Appearance 10. +0 (10 charisma) +1 (athletic) = +1 to reaction rolls.
Skills of Significance
Shadowmind Rank 2 / Psionic Perception Rank 2 / Arcane Perception Rank 3 / Cypher Rank 1 / Meditation Rank 3 / Rift Mastery Rank 1 / Psionic Oathbinding Rank 1 / Sword and Shield Rank 2 / Magesight Rank 1 / Mageward Rank 1
Greater Skills Learned
Greater Alchemy - Rank 1
Jordian Magical Arts Learned
Creation - Rank 1
Manipulation - Rank 1
Fire - Rank 1
Jordian Spells Learned
Firestream Level 20 C/F - Cost 10 Mana
Explosive Retribution Level 30 C/F (Must save against Oblivion when casting.) - Cost 70 mana
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He smiled at the conceit of visualizing his essence as a character sheet, carefully studying his spells. If he had to guess, C stood for creation, F for fire, and both were needed for the spells he had learned so far. Somehow he sensed that each rank earned in both a magical element and the method of using that element would let him cast five levels worth of spell near effortlessly. He could push and safely cast a spell up to ten levels higher at full mana cost. For an even higher level spell, like Explosive Retribution, it seemed like there was a significant mana penalty and considerable risk.
He knew the character sheet was just a mental shortcut, and still wasn't sure if the voice he heard in the back of his mind was himself, or the universe speaking through him, or a future version of himself commenting on his growth. In the end he realized it didn't matter. He was just grateful for the assist, delivered in a paradigm that as a gamer he could readily understand. Unlike anything he had ever experienced on Earth, here the forging of his character was simply uncovering who he really was.
12
"You awake yet, kid?"
Val groaned, head still throbbing, gazing up with bleary eyes at a concerned looking Sten. The look was gone so quick he wondered if he had imagined it, Sten's now stern countenance shaking his head. "That was damn stupid, boy. We're lucky as hell we didn't lose you and Elise both, and most of our blasters are not good for much else save slag at the moment." His brows furrowed. "Why didn't you tell us you were a Jordian mage?"
Val rubbed his brow. "I'm sorry, Captain, I didn't know I was capable of anything until I saw the buildup of mana, I guess you call it? And it all just sort of, well, clicked."
"It did more than click," Elise said, gently messaging Val's temples. "You risked your life to save mine. I don't know what to say to that, except... thank you."
Val felt his cheeks flush, feeling strangely awkward. He was no innocent, but strangely, in this place and time, he really did feel like a kid, still wet behind the ears with so very much to learn. "Consider it thanks, Elise."
"Thanks, for what?"
"For giving me a chance." He raised his gaze to meet the captain's own. "Thanks to all of you, for giving me a chance, and not leaving me there to die."
Sten frowned and looked away. "Gregor, what's taking so long with the maintenance?"
"I don't know Captain, maybe this would go faster if Val hadn't fried all our guns save yours, and knocked out Halvar's eye while he was at it!" grumbled Gregor, the small gnomish man hunched over the warrior's massive gun, gently finessing it with a pair of tiny metallic instruments.
Halvar, strangely, seemed less irritated than the mop of frizzy hair currently tweaking his laser carbine. "It's not that big a deal, at least in my case. This is military grade, so the mana-electromagnetic routers all use quantized magnets as circuit breakers. And if you'd just focus on recalibrating my eyepiece, I can tweak my carbine just fine."
"Yes, but you always get the calibration slightly off, and the buzz gives me a cursed headache," Gregor grumbled. "And my blaster's only good for slag at this point. It's only because you left your merc corp in good standing, with an open invitation to come back, that you even have a permit to carry military grade hardware at all."
Halvar grinned at that. "Every advantage, Gregor, is a blessing." He turned to Val, his face free of any anger, despite the chrome socket temporarily free of his optic enhancement. "How are you feeling, kid? You look a damn sight better, that's for sure."
Val grinned. "Like I just did battle with undead revenants and nearly killed myself in the process." His smirk turned thoughtful. "Strangely, I feel pretty much fine. Not sure why. I thought I was a bit banged up there?"
Halvar's bemused gaze turned serious. "You were. Covered in scrapes and burns. Some of them from your own casting." He pointedly focused his one good eye on Val's legs, where Val remembered most viscerally taking injury.
Val felt a curious chill race up and down his spine. His legs were completely free of any blemish or burn.
"Mind if I ask you a question, Val?"
Val smiled at the powerfully built mercenary. "Not at all, Halvar. Ask away."
"Are you even human?"
Silence. Val swallowed in the sudden tension, suddenly acutely aware of Elise's hands, no longer massaging throbbing temples, utterly still.
And in perfect position to snap his neck.
She hissed and stepped back.
Damn. Val felt an acute flash of embarrassment. She was an empath, and he wasn't hiding his thoughts in that odd icy state he used to embrace bef
ore carrying out his missions, once upon a time. Embracing Shadowmind, as they seemed to call it here. He was just Val at that moment, his mind as open as anyone's.
"That you would even think it."
Val winced. "I'm sorry, Elise, I... well, in my old life, death was something we learned to see everywhere." He swallowed and looked away. "Please don't be mad, Elise. I can't help how my mind is wired."
"Do you really think I would hurt you, after what you did to save me?"
Val winced, too embarrassed to face her gaze. "No, Elise, I don't. It's just... you were in the perfect position to end me, if I was deemed a threat." He sighed. "It's hard to put this into words, but where I'm from, the life I used to live, you had to compartmentalize things. You could feel fierce camaraderie for the people you fought beside, the natives that would assist my companions and I with our... unorthodox assignments. But you still had to be ready. You could love the brother-in-arms they presented themselves as, but if they turned out to be other, you had to be ready to see the serpent before you and strike, all feelings of brotherhood pushed aside when you realize it's a mask hiding a deeper design."
"And did that ever happen, Val?" Elise's voice had grown soft. "Did someone wearing the mask of friendship betray you?"
Val nodded. "A time or two. Locals our CO assured us were trustworthy were assigned to our unit." His smile turned bleak. "Something in their eyes. The way they moved. It was just off. We laughed and traded jokes, but I made sure the others knew. When they began to position themselves to make their move, we had already flanked them. It was over soon enough."
Elise frowned. "That's not what you're really thinking of, Val. Your psyche... it tastes of bitter hurt."
Val closed his eyes, shaking his head. "It wasn't betrayal so much as tragedy. A girl I let myself love, once. Back when I was in high school... she looked past the shy boy that hid in computer games and reenactment. The kid who thought swords were cooler than football, and could perform moulinets far better than he could throw a pass. She smiled the one time she saw me fence. She said it actually looked kind of cool, though she laughed if I asked her if she wanted to learn." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "We shared our dreams, the secrets we kept close to our hearts. For a time we were very close."