Avatar of Light

by Dmitry Bilik

  “Okay. Listen, if you need money... you think I could help?”

  She gave me a sad look tinted with condescension. “You don’t have enough.”

  Then she left.

  I lingered for a while, not knowing what to do, then hurried away from Traug’s hovel and the hoarse strains of his voice bellowing some lewd song or other. God forbid that one of them should stagger out and bump into me. I had no wish whatsoever to get into drinking with them. Especially because I already had plans for the evening.

  Instead, I wandered off looking for a herbalist. Naturally, I already had one of my own — and a family member to boot. But I’d still not quite managed to work out where exactly I stood with this ancestor of mine. Also, he was here on business so he was unlikely to have brought all the trappings of his herbal collection with him. While the herbal ingredient shop was actually right there, two doors down from Rumis’ Magic Emporium.

  The shop owner was busy sweeping his own porch — not with the help of any magic as you’d think but with an actual broom. I’d already worked out that every shop owner was responsible for the area adjacent to his or her premises. Judging by the orderliness of the rest of the Community, they must have had someone looking after it too — either the Guards or some Players hired by the Sachem. Although I couldn’t imagine how much you’d have to pay a Seeker for doing such a menial job.

  “Hi. Are you the herbalist?”

  The question begged no answer because I already knew it in advance from my Insight which gave me the guy’s admittedly unusual specialization: Naturalist. All I had to do was put two and two together.

  The short man wiped his bulbous purple nose, shoved a gnarly finger in his hairy ear, scratched it and nodded. “Are you buying or selling?”

  “First I’m buying, and then we’ll see.”

  He motioned to me to follow him. Before entering, he stomped the snow off his old felt boots and gave me a stern look, expecting me to do the same. I obeyed, then entered.

  I found myself in a kingdom of shadows. The thick curtains on his windows blanked out all light, so the room was dark even in daytime. My head span from the plethora of spicy odors. All of a sudden I felt terribly drowsy, so much so that I completely forgot what I’d come here for.

  The shop owner came to my rescue. He drew the curtain aside on one of the windows and opened it a little. Then he walked over to me and reached over my head, removing a bunch of something that looked like purple garlic. He put it away and pointed to a wobbly stool. I had to sit down.

  “So, dear sir, how do we call you?”

  “Sergei.”

  “I’m Polycarp,” he proffered his hand, as big and gnarly as those oaks in fantasy novels. “So what would you like to buy?”

  “Well, I’ve got a list,” I handed him Bumpkin’s scrap of paper.

  “Well, baneberry I have... And this too... Datura as well... But cottonweed, I’m not so sure. I need to check my stocks. I think I still have some. Wait here, I’ll go and see.”

  The herbalist walked over to the far end of a dusty carpet and threw it aside, revealing a roughly forged square handle. He threw open the cellar hatch and with a grunt climbed down. He was only absent for a few minutes during which I must have dozed off at least a couple of dozen times. It was only the stool itself that prevented me from falling asleep, one of its legs being shorter than the others, so every time I dropped off, it began to wobble, bringing me back to reality.

  Finally, Polycarp returned, clutching two dry twigs. “Here, I found some, but only enough for two elixirs. So I’ll give you the rest of the herbs in the same proportion. Unless you only want one.”

  “No, I’ll take two,” I said unhesitantly. “How much will that be?”

  “Fourteen for the whole lot.”

  If I could whistle, I would have done so. Bumpkin’s home cures cost a small fortune! On the other hand, it was entirely up to me. If I wanted to spend several days squirming in pain, so be it. But if I wanted to be as right as rain, I’d have to shell out. Especially because I now could afford it.

  “Do you do discounts for regular customers?”

  “For real regular ones, yes. But for you it’s still fourteen grams.”

  “Not even a wholesale discount?”

  He even stopped stuffing the herbs into a small bag. “You a wholesaler? That’s not even funny.”

  “You’re not an easy man to do business with, Mr. Polycarp.”

  “Had I been easy, I’d have gone bust years ago. So are you gonna take this or not?”

  “Sure.”

  I parted with my fourteen grams and shoved the bag of herbs into my inventory.

  “What did you say about having something to sell?” he asked. “Were you bullshitting me or do you have something worth my while?”

  For a moment, I felt offended that this guy wasn’t taking me seriously. I checked my stocks and chanced upon the nepenthe. According to my great-granddaddy, it was an awful rare ingredient. Let’s see if he was right.

  I produced the herb and showed it to Polycarp.

  He nodded. “Ah, nepenthe. Very special stuff. Not many people need that. Besides, unfortunately for you, there was another guy here earlier today who sold me three bunches of it already. And I don’t need any more.”

  Aha, so Vladimir had been here before me. Which meant that it was also pointless offering him the mandrake root. I frowned. Apart from the stones, I didn’t have anything else to show him — apart from the elixir I’d received from Jumping Jack. I needed it for myself, of course, but nothing prevented me from just showing it to the vendor. I might also find out how much it actually cost.

  I gingerly took out the fat vial and showed it to Polycarp.

  At first, the brightly-colored elixir failed to evoke any interest in the shopkeeper. He gave it a disinterested look — but only until I tilted the vial slightly to one side. The movement of the viscous liquid caused the shopkeeper’s eyes to open wide in disbelief.

  “Is this what I think it is?” he asked without taking his eyes off the vial.

  “It is. The enchanting scent of the Elixir of Power,” I unscrewed the lid ever so slightly so that he could sniff it.

  “How much do you want for it?” his voice broke with excitement. He cleared his throat and added in a calmer voice, “Name your price.”

  “Any price I want? How about two kilos?”

  “One and a half,” Polycarp said.

  Now it was my turn to be surprised. I’d had my suspicions that this orange shit wasn’t cheap — but my idea of “not cheap” had come to a much more modest amount. Like, a couple of hundred grams, maybe three. And if he was willing to shell out as much as a kilo and a half right off the bat, it meant that I might be able to extract much more from him when the moment was right.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, putting the vial away. “At least this way you can see that now and again I have some interesting things.”

  “Can I take another peek?” he asked, almost shaking.

  “Later. I need some time to find out what kind of guy you are. To tell you the truth, my first impression wasn’t that favorable. You refused to give me a discount and you were quite rude to me.”

  “I didn’t do it to spite you,” he said, visibly embarrassed. “It’s just because I have all sorts of time wasters here telling me all sorts of stories. It’s not always easy to tell when a customer is serious. If I could somehow compensate you in any way...”

  Your Persuasion skill has increased to level 12.

  “I’d like to make a gift to my house goblin. Could you recommend me something?”

  “Of course. Take some chamba. Some even call it goblin weed. It is to house goblins like catnip is to cats. They absolutely love it. Only you know the rules, don’t you? Goblins are forbidden from buying herbs or procuring them in any other way.”

  “How long has this rule been in force?”

  “A good hundred and twenty Cesspit years.”

  “O
kay, I’ll take it. How much is it?”

  “Just forget it! It costs nothing. Just take it as a sign of my good will. But please do come back whenever you have anything interesting or if you decide to sell your elixir. I might be able to go a little higher with my price.”

  I shook his shovellike hand and assured him of my cooperation.

  Outside, I looked at my watch. I still had some time, so I headed off to Rimus’. Firstly, I needed to finally procure the skills I hadn’t bought on my previous visit. And secondly, I’d made level 10 in Destruction which meant I must have had new spells available.

  He was there, looking grim. Had it not been for all the filthy melted slush on his doorstep, I might have thought I was his only customer. Without further ado, I got straight down to business.

  Rumis gave me an angry nod. He definitely was out of sorts. He walked over to the pulpit and took my hands in his, transporting us to...

  No, it wasn’t the forest glade we’d been to before. This was some hi tech garbage dump teeming with cyborgs who ignored our presence entirely. Only now did I realize that Rumis conjured these visions up from out of my own subconscious. Last time it had been a poetic landscape; now it was some industrial zone in Detroit.

  I didn’t even get the chance to ponder over it before a new system message flashed before my eyes at the speed of a corrupt civil servant trying to eat the evidence of a bribe while being arrested.

  Map Making (Intellect). The ability to memorize the locations the Player has been to in order to preserve them in his or her mind in the shape of maps. For a certain fee, maps can be put onto pieces of parchment or transferred to Seekers.

  Cost: 100 grams

  Echolocation (Intellect) — the ability to detect and identify sounds at a large distance.

  Cost: 500 grams

  Dodge (Agility) — the ability to avoid critical hits dealt by stabbing, slashing and throwing weapons.

  Cost: 800 grams

  Capacity (Strength) = the ability to increase the weight you can carry.

  Cost: 400 grams

  Observation Skills — the ability to perceive information-rich details of an object or item.

  Cost: 600 grams

  Imitation (Intellect) — the ability to create accurate fakes or copies of items, including artifacts.

  Cost: 1500 grams

  Just when I’d thought that now I was rich and could finally live the life of Riley, someone had to come and piss on my parade. Apparently, as my spending power grew, so did the scope of offers available. I mean, a kilo and a half for the ability to forge artifacts? Nobody’s arguing that it’s a very profitable skill but still...

  I forced myself to stop shivering and tried to think rationally. I had 2167 grams of filthy lucre on me. Which meant I could now buy all but two skills — but I shouldn’t forget about spells which must have also gone up in price. This meant I had to limit myself to the bare necessities.

  Bye, Imitation. Fifteen hundred grams was an atrocious price to pay for a skill. Bye, Capacity. One day when I was richer I might come back for you, but in the meantime I had Traug as a pack mule. Sorry, Echolocation. One day we might become friends but not today.

  That left me with three skills: Map Making, Dodge, and Observation. The former was a no-brainer, for that price. My hand reached for Dodge and froze. At the moment, time rewinds were sufficient for all my needs, and besides, I could find better uses for eight hundred grams. But Observation, coupled with my Insight, could become a killer weapon.

  I can’t say I parted with the seven hundred that easily, but at least I knew I’d done the right thing. The high-tech dump disappeared: we were back in the shop again. I hurried to study my acquisitions.

  Map Making (Intellect). Allows you to select one of the ability’s three options:

  - setting up a geolocation marker allowing you to find your bearings;

  - the modeling of an object with the help of existing data;

  - drawing maps on parchment

  I unhesitantly chose the marker option, then rummaged through my interface, searching for my city’s interactive map, and admired the bright red marker waiting to be set up. Yes!

  I zoomed out, taking in the unfolding panorama. That’s my house over there, and here’s my beer kiosk and the river where I used to swim every summer. How interesting. To my embarrassment, quite a lot of my home city was concealed by the “mist of war”. Never mind.

  I zoomed out further. A thin line of railway tracks connected my city to Moscow. Paris and London were barely perceptible dots in the background. The air routes to Turkey and the Crimea were wider and more distinct: that’s where my parents used to take me for summer vacations. That was the extent of it. The rest of the world was submerged in darkness.

  So many places I was yet to see! But not now, unfortunately. I went back to my home city, found my house and pointed the marker at it.

  Immediately I sensed a fresh breeze touch my face. It was quite tangible — I could see its almost imperceptible currents that headed for Rumis’ front door.

  Oh wow. Did that mean that I had my very own GPS navigator? Admittedly, it could only work in an area I’d already been to, but even that was nothing to sniff at.

  Feeling encouraged, I closed the marker and searched for my second skill.

  Observation Skills (Intellect). Your current Intellect level allows you to select one of the following skill applications:

  - to living beings

  - to natural objects

  - to manmade items

  I shrugged and ticked “to living beings”. Nothing seemed to have changed. I peered at Rumis, just in case, but he was still his old Purgatorian self. So how was it supposed to work, then?

  “Quit staring,” Rumis said. “You taking the spells or what? Or are you gonna upgrade those you already have?”

  “I need to think about it. Probably a bit of both.”

  “Come along, then,” he hobbled toward the second floor.

  I froze, lightning-struck. Hobbled. I’d never noticed the way he walked before. You couldn’t say he was limping, no: he seemed to walk with a stiff mechanical gait typical of people with bad joints.

  “Rumis, you are from Purg, aren’t you?”

  He turned back to me, the cunning squint in his eye telling me I’d guessed right. “Why?”

  “You haven’t been modified or anything?”

  “I knew you’d notice it. I was actually of two minds whether to sell Observation to you. I’m a Purg, yes, but not quite.”

  “Wanna tell me about it?”

  “There’s nothing to tell, is there?” he shrugged and pulled down his pants. I opened my mouth to protest but the words got stuck in my mouth. His backside was a metal installation bristling with lots of little pegs and cogwheels.

  “I made myself some pretty nasty enemies over there so I had to flee. I hoped to get to one of the central worlds but I never made it. They caught up with me in Mechilos and all but killed me. The local mechanics put me together again. Officially I’m a Purg but I’m registered as a mechanoid shop keeper. One of those things. Come on now. I don’t have all day to shoot the breeze.”

  He hurried up the stairs while I stood there watching him, trying to take in this latest development. Just think of all the things I could do with this new skill of mine!

  Chapter 17

  WE ALWAYS SEEM TO treat our new acquisitions with a special deference. The arrival of a new vacuum cleaner makes us vacuum everything in sight, including window sills and pictures on the walls. We meticulously clean the white sidewalls of our new designer sneakers every evening. Now imagine what you feel when you get the ability to see all kinds of little peculiarities in people (and other living beings).

  Which was why, as I climbed the stairs to the second floor of Rumis’ shop, I lingered by the filthy little window studying the street below. Take the Guard, for instance, swaggering along the pavement outside. Nothing out of ordinary: the same black mask, the flowing robes, the ha
ughty attitude. The only difference being, he was playing with a tiny little flame as he walked, flicking it between the fingers of his right hand like a little magnetic ball. An absent-minded, mechanical action, like hammering your fingers on the table or tapping your foot while listening to your favorite song. But that was enough for me to conclude that I was looking at a mage specializing in Fire spells.

  Or take the Archalus following him. He was virtually indistinguishable from his brethren: light-footed gait, beautiful wings. But his face was sallow and bloated, his nose veined with a purple spidery net of burst blood vessels. The guy was a boozer. How curious.