Avatar of Light

by Dmitry Bilik

  “Yes, yes, of course,” he started bustling about, picking up the tray.

  Much better, I thought, suppressing a happy grin. Losing heart after every little failure isn’t a healthy habit at all. We only live once — so if you keep constantly throwing in the towel, what good can you do?

  “And the bathtub needs cleaning!” I shouted from the bathroom, picking up the bottle of tub cleaner.

  He promptly reappeared next to me and tried to wrestle the bottle away from me. I told him to get lost — in his kitchen duties, I mean.

  Having finished cleaning the tub, I opened the faucets and climbed in even before the tub was completely full. What a bliss. I opened the interface and admired my new skill.

  Intuition (Subconsciousness). The ability to fully grasp, epiphany-style, both the meaning and significance of certain events without the need for rational deduction.

  Okay. So the ability was passive. I got that. But where could I invest skill points in order to add to its awesomeness? Could it be because of this strange new attribute I’d received so unexpectedly?

  Subconsciousness: the area responsible for all psychic and metaphysical processes which don’t get registered in our consciousness and which can’t be consciously controlled by the user.

  Not a single stat! Which meant that I couldn’t level it up, either. It was there, and that was the extent of it. You could study it and focus on it all you wanted, but it wasn’t gonna change a thing. Talk about a useless gift.

  I paused, basking in the hot water for a while, then left the new attribute well alone and opened my inventory bag.

  I pulled out A Brief History of Cesspit and leafed through it. Published in 1936 by Beta Books in Cyrillia. Print run: 300 copies.

  Just out of curiosity, I leaned out of the tub and fished the true mirror out of my pocket. What would it look like to a commoner’s eye?

  Yeah right. A Paratrooper in Ancient Greece: A Time Traveler’s Diaries Book 5. Very funny, haha. Disguising a secret history of a clandestine world as a sci-fi penny-dreadful.

  Without expecting too much, I decided to read a few pages and... and I got completely engrossed in it. Nothing like this had happened to me in quite a while. I’d completely stopped reading in high school — in fact, at the time I’d only showed up at home to grab a few hours of sleep. I was a teenager like any other, after all. In college, I’d been obliged to read whatever we’d been given, but it was skimming rather than reading. But I couldn’t remember actually taking pleasure in what I read. And this was a page-turner.

  After a good twenty minutes, I forced myself away from the book, noticing that my Axiology had risen 1 pt. By then, I’d already learned that the so-called Heracles had been one hell of a cool dude. His development branch was Crasher. In fact, the number of deeds he’d performed was twenty-two, not twelve. Also, he hadn’t died at all. He’d just gone into hiding from all the prying eyes. No one really knew what had happened to him afterwards.

  I moved on to find out more about another guy known to us as Achilles — a. k. a. Pyrrisis — whose development branch was Skin of Steel, when I got a funny feeling — more like knowing, really — that I really should call it a day and climb out of the tub before Julia came. I had a quick wash, got out and toweled myself down just in time before the doorbell rang. I already started to love this Intuition thing.

  Julia was standing in the doorway — rosy-cheeked with the frost, a stubborn lock of hair escaping from under her knitted cap. She was apparently taken aback by seeing me in my undies.

  “What are you doing here half-naked?” she demanded.

  “That’s not half-naked. That’s more like 11/12 naked. I’ve just climbed out of the tub.”

  “Go and get dressed, then,” she said, closing the door behind her.

  “Why?” I smiled, giving her a big hug.

  “Because your hair’s wet,” she offered a half-hearted excuse. “What’s with all this, can’t you wait? You’re like a young recruit on leave!”

  But she’d already flung her arms in the air, draping them around me, her tongue greedily replying to my kiss.

  Later, as her head rested on my chest, she said sleepily, “What’s all this, can’t you stop reading? Let’s get some sleep. It’s late already.”

  “Just one minute, okay? I just find it very interesting.”

  My sweetheart drowsily turned the book to herself and looked at the cover. “Quantum Mechanics. Are you a mechanic?”

  I smiled. “Yep. A quantum one.”

  I stroked her hair. She mumbled something under her breath and fell asleep.

  Half an hour later I too set the book aside, unable to keep my eyes open, but not before I saw the coveted message,

  Your Axiology skill has increased to level 10.

  You’ve achieved Mastery in the following skill: Axiology

  Mastery level: 1

  New advanced skill available: Subvocalization. Allows you to vividly recreate particularly memorable book scenes in your imagination.

  My eyelids lowered by themselves, conjuring up an image of the powerful Heracles overcoming a Player whose development branch was Stunner. Nicknamed Lion, he’d also been known as the Lion of Nemea, after the province where he’d lived at the time. I also thought I glimpsed a man standing nearby watching them who looked like the spitting image of my mentor.

  The things you dream!

  Chapter 28

  THEY SAY THAT YOU NEED to live each day as if it were your last. Not a bad philosophy, considering the unhealthy interest that one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse had in my humble self. This day could indeed become my last. Or the day after, maybe. In any case, had I indeed been as close to death as I actually was, this was how my perfect last morning would have begun.

  I awoke to the gentle touch of claws on my shoulder. Bumpkin was standing next to the bed.

  “Should I get breakfast going, Master?” he whispered, casting glances at Julia.

  “Please,” I mouthed back.

  He vanished. I heard the kitchen door close, followed by a quiet clattering of skillets.

  I stretched out and smiled. A beautiful girl by my side; a house goblin busy in my kitchen, whose devotion to me rivaled that of a Border Collie; a hundred grams of dust still sitting in my inventory. There’s only one problem with these moments of absolute bliss: they’re all bound to come to an abrupt and unexpected end.

  I slipped out of the bed and tiptoed into the bathroom lined with ancient Soviet-era tiles of indeterminate color. I really should have the place redecorated.

  A hot and cold shower promptly brought me back in order. Despite the rough night, I felt like an astronaut on the morning of his launch.

  “What’s that you’ve cooked?” Julia asked me, stretching in bed.

  “Just a quick something. Are you hungry, baby?”

  “I’m absolutely ravenous.”

  Mentioning ‘a quick something’ had been a bit imprudent of me, I have to admit. I’d forgotten about quite a few things: firstly, that Bumpkin had always taken his responsibilities very seriously; secondly, that I’d been careless enough to have just bought a whole week’s worth of groceries; and thirdly, that after his emotional collapse last night, Bumpkin was doing everything he could to get back in my good books.

  That’s why the kitchen welcomed us with what looked a five-star hotel buffet spread. Sausages, eggs, porridge, omelets, cottage cheese patties, several ham pancakes (about twenty, to be precise), a bunch of chocolate pancakes (a treat which I’d only discovered very recently), not to mention various miscellanea like cold cuts and a cheese plate.

  “When did you make all this?” Julia asked, not knowing what to begin with.

  “Got up a bit early, that’s all,” I said, feeling just as speechless as she was. “Wanted to make you a surprise.”

  There was no way we could eat it all, of course. Even my whole family wouldn’t have managed that. We just took a few bites of each, as Julia praised what she must have beli
eved to be my culinary genius. I decided not to tell her that the genius in question was currently rustling with something under the bathtub, playing the part of a smug lazy cat.

  “What about that serious talk you wanted to have with me?” I asked casually.

  She stared at her pancake so hard as if conferring with it whether or not to tell me. The pancake’s advice must have been affirmative because she uttered the few words which every young man fears the most:

  “My parents would like to meet you.”

  I choked on my omelet and exploded in a bout of coughing, buying some think time. How were you supposed to stay an atheist after this? Hadn’t I received a personal message from a higher being only yesterday by being present at my parents’ own “fiancé show”?

  In actual fact, I had several options. I even felt like I was sitting in the uncomfortable guest chair at Who Wants To Be A Millionaire.

  Option A: Flee. Escape without a trace, changing my address and phone number.

  Option B: Agree to a couple of hours of shame. Wear my best button-up shirt, brush my hair (or even cut it, as the case may be) and remember all my childhood manners. Realize that there was no way back.

  Option C: Tell my date that despite all the love and respect I had for her, I had no desire to meet her family at the moment. The beauty of this particular option was that every word of it was true. Still, the old adage “honesty is the best policy” was as far removed from real life as a Californian billionaire’s lifestyle from welfare.

  Option D. Find an urgent business as an excuse to reschedule the event, fully realizing that this was only a lame attempt to delay the inevitable.

  “I know it’s too early,” Julia said, tapping me on the back. “But they insist.”

  “It’s all right,” I said, wiping away the tears. “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

  I took a sip of tea and added in a calmer voice, “I’d love to meet them, but I can only do it in a couple of days. I have a bit of an emergency at work. We’re waiting for a new worker to arrive who’s gonna take on some of my workload. Once I shift some of my duties to him, everything will be hunky dory. I’ll come and meet them straight away.”

  Your Lying skill has increased to level 9.

  Hunky dory... or not. In which case meeting my girlfriend’s parents would be the least of my problems. Still, I’d love to know how things would unfold once I was dead. At moments of bitter resentment, all children must have imagined themselves dead just to spite their parents and friends who would cry and weep, suddenly realizing their loss. They would utter their sobbing regrets, promising to forgive and forget just as your coffin was being lowered into the cold earth. At moments like these, upset children begin to cry because they feel so terribly sorry for themselves.

  But me, I was just curious. There was also a nagging sense of guilt because I had no idea how my parents were going to take it. Because one thing that’s even worse than the death of your own child is when he or she goes missing. And that’s what was going to happen to me: I would just go missing.

  All this had flashed through my head as Julia plastered me with kisses of gratitude. Which meant I’d chosen the right option. Thankfully, my young body had its own way of cutting my ruminations short, putting an end to our breakfast and restoring our previous horizontal status quo.

  “Will you take me home?” Julia asked.

  “Absolutely. I can dial a cab for you.”

  She shook her head. “Oh no. Too much of a good thing.”

  “If you wish.”

  As we left the building, we walked right into Professor who brought his clenched hand to his mouth in a fake bout of coughing, trying to conceal his smile. Still, my Insight saw right through his little trick. I could only imagine what he was thinking, seeing me with two different girls on two consecutive days. Not that I gave a damn. Why should his opinion worry me?”

  Having parted with Julia, I stumbled back home with a halting gait. My heart was overflowing with happiness and blissful anticipation (which was completely wrong, given the situation). All my movements became loose, my vigilance had dropped dangerously close to zero.

  I also received a text message from Arts saying,

  Switzerland Recreation Park, by the central monument, 6 p.m.

  Which was probably why, as I approached my house’s front door, I didn’t even bother to look up. Which was pretty stupid, I agree. Had it not been for my new skill, even my time rewind ability wouldn’t have saved my sorry butt this time.

  A shudder ran through my body. All of a sudden I felt a desperate urge to duck and leap aside, so strong that I couldn’t really resist it. This was probably what animals sense in perilous moments between life and death.

  The icicle crashed to the ground just by my left foot: a giant block of ice several feet wide which disintegrated on impact, spewing great lumps of ice toward me. Wouldn’t it have been ironic if Sergei the Time Master had died right here and now, before he’d even met Morbian?

  You’ve taken the first step toward acquiring the Luck ability.

  You could say that. I looked up and glimpsed a movement on the roof just in time. I pushed the door open and dashed upstairs. My legs soon felt leaden, my calves completely numb. Still, the Game must have decided to reward me for this unscheduled training practice:

  Your Athletics skill has increased to level 10.

  You’ve achieved Mastery in the following skill: Athletics

  Mastery level: 1

  The restoration rate of your fluid and electrolyte balance has increased. The activation rate of your enzyme, protein and amino acid synthesis has increased.

  Although I was by no means an athlete, even I knew enough to understand that it would now take my muscles less time to restore after exercise. Still, at the moment the gift went unappreciated: I was literally seething inside.

  I ran out onto the roof to discover two individuals in overalls. One of them was holding an ax, the other a pick. They must have been maintenance workers sent to remove the icicles from the roof. Indeed, our building seemed to have an icicle problem because, despite the excellent heating system, the ceiling insulation was less than useless, and the loft was freezing in winter. Apparently, this forced warm air to rise and melt the snow along the edges of the roof, forming giant icicles. It had been Professor who’d shared this little house maintenance secret with me.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, furious.

  “We’re knocking the icicles down,” one of them replied good-naturedly.

  I strode over to him and grabbed him by his lapels. They didn’t even have safety harnesses on. They’d probably never even heard about safety measures.

  The man turned out to be remarkably light. As his boots lost contact with the icy surface, his eyes betrayed animal fear. I forced his head closer to the roof’s edge. His partner tried to pull us both back but without much success. That must have been the Korl blood awakening in me.

  “Hey, man? Whatcha think you’re doing?” the poor bastard croaked, looking up at me. “We didn’t mean it, man. Hey!”

  It took all of my willpower to restrain myself. This was wrong. I realized it now. I flung the unfortunate dude aside and tried to calm myself down.

  How weird. I’d have never done anything like this before. I might have snapped at them and called them a pair of idiots, and that would have been the extent of it. But now... now I’d been quite prepared to smash them both to pulp.

  “You idiots! Don’t you understand you could have killed somebody?”

  “We did look,” my intended victim attempted to explain.

  “Well, you should have looked better! Why didn’t you just cordon it off? Why isn’t there anybody down below supervising you? One of you should wear a safety harness while the other one should be downstairs watching that no idiot enters your work zone. How simple is that?”

  You’ve taken the next step toward acquiring the Leadership ability.

  The
other one frowned. “You really should mind your language.”

  You wouldn’t exactly call him fit. He was big but that’s because he was rather fat. Probably, the only sport he’d ever done was the beer run between the fridge and the couch.

  “How about you go and screw yourself?” I said, unable to stop myself.

  “You what?” the man said, indignant, as he lumbered toward me.

  A roof covered in a thick uneven layer of ice isn’t the best place to pick a fight. Especially when your opponent is a Player, and very pissed at that. I didn’t wait for him to approach. With a giant leap, I was immediately upon him, investing all my pent-up anger into one punch. The worker dropped on his side and blacked out.