by Pirateaba
“Mrsha!”
Instantly, another piece moved, a knight. Lyon stared at it despairingly. But it was too late now. The other player clearly wanted to play. And Erin wasn’t here and Lyon was…curious. So she played.
Why? Because it might be ruder just to leave the other player hanging. And this way, they would surely realize that it wasn’t Erin on the other end. Sure enough, after Lyon had lost both a knight and bishop in quick succession (which she was sure wasn’t a good thing), she sensed the player on the other end pause.
Had they gotten angry and left? No. After a minute, the play resumed, but differently. The moved were no longer lightning-sharp and too hard for Lyonette to counter. Instead, the pieces marched across the board, giving her a challenge, but not one she couldn’t figure out. Mrsha stared at the chess pieces, first fascinated, then bored. To make her behave, Lyon gave her some firewood and some of the leftover paint. The Gnoll happily colored the log with a paw while Lyon played first one game, then two. Three.
After the third game, which she won somehow, Lyon saw the pieces on the board quickly rearrange themselves. She waited—the white side was on the other end of the board—but no movement came.
The mysterious chess player was done for the night. And so Lyon stood up from the bored, feeling a bit ashamed. Surely the player was disappointed she wasn’t Erin. But…
She felt good. Was this what Erin liked about chess? It was so odd, having to think in such a way. But Lyonette liked it, strangely. It was different and new. How could she have lived here for so long without trying the game once? How could she have been so…small?
The girl’s head lowered. So much done wrong. So many things that were her fault. But she couldn’t wallow in misery long. She felt a wet nose on her leg and saw Mrsha had finished with her log.
“So colorful! And you have paint all over your fur. Oh no. We’d better clean you up.”
The Gnoll wriggled and tried to get away, but Lyonette had her washing her fur with oil and lye soap in hot water soon enough. It took many trips to the stream in the cold of the night to get enough water, but Lyonette didn’t care.
Mrsha was her responsibility. So was the inn. So she cleaned up what she could, got as much paint off of Mrsha and the floor, and went to bed, exhausted.
But smiling.
[Barmaid Level 8!]
[Skill – Basic Cleaning obtained!]
[Carer Class Obtained!]
[Carer Level 2!]
[Skill – Calming Touch obtained!]
[Tactician Class Obtained!]
[Tactician Level 1!]
[Skill – Lesser Intuition obtained!]
—-
Across the world from where the [Princess] sat up in bed and shouted in surprise, making the small Gnoll sleeping next to her tumble away in fright, Niers Astoragon, the Titan, sat in front of his very small chessboard, a dark expression on his face.
He wasn’t smiling. Rather, he was staring hard at the pieces on the board.
“So. The mystery player is gone and someone else has found the board. Someone who knows chess but has barely played it, if at all.”
He mused to himself as he sat, staring at the board. He wasn’t in his command tent in the field now. No, rather he was sitting in the smallest room of the inn his company had hired for its officers on the way back to their personal lands.
It was the smallest room, true, and all of his students and lieutenants had objected. But to Niers, the smallest room in the inn was still a huge space. So he had told them to shut up and move his belongings inside. They obeyed. Even though he was small, the Titan in a bad mood was frightening to be around.
And Niers had been in a bad mood for over a week now. His students tiptoed around him and the soldiers under his command leapt to obey his orders or stayed far out of the way. Niers stood up and paced around the huge desk he’d put his belongings on.
There weren’t many. Niers passed by his arms, the magical items he carried into every battle, the artifacts any commander of Baleros carried, and stared at two things. The chessboard he’d sent across the world, and a letter that still smelled of lavender, edged with gold.
Two things, both tempting his loyalty. Niers closed his eyes. Magnolia didn’t interest him as much as the chessboard—although the woman still had a way of digging her words into his skin like barbs—but she was on the same continent as his missing opponent.
Maybe he could…?
“No.”
That was what Niers said. He sat back at the chessboard, staring at it darkly. He could play this new opponent of course. Maybe he, she, or it would eventually give the board back or find its true owner. Maybe.
But for now Niers couldn’t bear to play such games. He sat in front of the board, scowling darkly as the one candle he’d lit flickered in the dark room. He sat, staring at the chess pieces, the letter, and then at the window. He had a job. A duty. He was the second-in-command of one of the four Great Companies of Baleros. He couldn’t leave.
He told himself that. But his eyes always strayed back to the chessboard.
Waiting.
—-
On the same continent as Niers’ mysterious chess opponent and the famous Lady Magnolia, two hooded figures walked through blowing snow, keeping their cloaks wrapped tightly around them to protect them from the chill.
In theory, it was two people. In fact, the two travelers were followed by a rather large bevy of people, horses, and supplies that in theory were there to make their journey as pleasant and as safe as possible.
In truth, it just annoyed the Drake General walking in front to no end. He grunted irritably as his companion kicked up a small cloud of snow into his face.
“Did you need to bring all your attendants with you, Ilvriss? We could have been there by now if we didn’t have to wait for these stupid horses.”
The Drake walking in front of him cast a dark glance backwards.
“Be silent, Shivertail. Not everyone has a Skill to let them run. And unlike you, I’m a Lord of the Wall. My position demands—”
“Yes, yes, shut up. You didn’t have to come with me, you know.”
Zel Shivertail sighed and marched forwards. Ilvriss matched his pace, and the two Drakes walked forwards in the snow, silent, both of them disliking each other’s presence. Disliking, but tolerating the other out of respect as well. And after a moment, Ilvriss spoke.
“I did have to come.”
“I know.”
They walked on. After a few minutes, Ilvriss spoke.
“…Hard to see anything in this damn snow. We passed the Blood Fields a day ago. How much further now?”
“One more day, I think.”
“And you’re sure you can find this Human in Liscor?”
“No. But it’s a place to start, and as I’ve said, I have business in the Human lands.”
“Well, let’s keep on moving then.”
“Mm.”
They walked on, silent, marching through the snow. And they were not the only ones headed towards Liscor.
—-
They marched on a similar route, also north, but far from any road. It was out of necessity they did so; they did not want to be seen. Not for fear of being attacked, but rather of alerting those who would watch their every move.
Unfortunately, moving so far from the main road meant they were more likely to be attacked. The raiding force of Goblins had been a hundred strong. The last of them now gasped and died in the snow.
The group studied the dying Goblin dispassionately. He had worn tough metal armor, painted black, and even carried a slightly magical sword. None of it had done him or his friends any good.
“More delays.”
That was all one said. He fanned his wings. The Antinium spat and acid melted snow into steam.
Another nodded. She had no wings, and her carapace was royal blue. And she held a staff in her hands and her eyes glowed with magic. She whispered a spell, and the snowstorm around them stopped.
The band of Antinium turned and marched away from the scene of their latest encounter without a word. Antinium, not the faceless Soldiers or humble Workers, but warriors far different from those in Liscor. Warriors from four Hives, marching in the snow.
North. To Liscor.
—-
A woman made of bone walked through the snow, tireless, her eyes burning in the darkness. She was undead, a construct of death, a being of unimaginable power.
A dark shadow flowed at her side, something that moved without revealing its true form. The two moved through the snow, swift, silent.
They had been moving thusly for three days. And they had covered a lot of ground, it was true. But after the moon began to rise overhead the shadow seemed compelled to speak. She cleared her throat with a wet, squelching sound and spoke with a whisper that would have chilled the hearts of any living being that heard it.
But there were not living beings to hear, and the voice wasn’t quite so menacing as uncertain.
“Venitra. Are we lost?”
The woman, the armored knight made of bone, Venitra ignored the question. She and her companion, Ijvani, were on a mission to find the girl, the Courier, the Runner. They had been sent by their great master, Az’Kerash. Being lost was…not acceptable. It couldn’t be happening.
Many people were travelling to Liscor. It was just that some of them didn’t matter because they were roughly seventy miles off course and heading the wrong way.
3.23 L
When Lyonette woke up in her bed and felt the winter daylight on her face, she smiled up at the ceiling, so widely she thought her lips would break.
She’d gained two classes. Two. And she’d leveled up!
Part of Lyon had been afraid that it was all a dream. But the voice in her head—it was undeniable.
She’d leveled. Lyonette hugged her pillow as she curled up. In doing so, she rolled over and nearly squashed the ball of fluff sleeping next to her.
“Oh no. Sorry, Mrsha!”
Lyonette heard a noise of protest from the still sleeping Mrsha. Tiny claws poked her as the young Gnoll reached out and stole the blanket back. Lyon smiled at the round, furry little creature and patted her on the head.
A mouth came up and nipped at Lyonette’s hand, making her yelp. Mrsha cracked one brown eye open and stared at the girl balefully. The message was clear: petting was only for happy, awake Gnolls.
For a while, Lyon lay in her bed. But soon the needs of the day got her up. She stood, dressed, and soon found herself paying a visit to the cold outhouse. It was well-crafted of course, and relatively warmer than the outside. But only just. Lyon sat on the toilet, shivering, but still smiling.
She’d leveled. She had. It wasn’t a dream. She now had both the [Carer] and [Tactician] class, from taking care of Mrsha and playing chess respectively.
Two new classes on top of her [Barmaid] class. As Lyon hurried back into the inn she marveled at the thought. How long had it been since she’d last leveled up in her ‘chosen’ class? Four years?
Yes. Four years.
Lyonette stood with the glass of water in her hand, watering the flowers as she stared out one frosted window at the snowy world. It was cold, lifeless, and beautiful. There was something terrifying about it as well, a sense that if you wandered out into that vast, unforgiving landscape you would die, in this place where civilization ended.
Of course, when Lyonette went to the window facing Liscor she saw a city full of people and beyond that, villages scattered across hilltops. It was only the southern window that was so bleak. But she liked that window. It showed her a world she’d never dreamed of in the palace where she’d grown up.
That place had been…Lyonette sighed as she went outside, bundled up, and tromped through the snow towards the stream, two buckets in hand.
She’d hated it. She’d hated not leveling, and she’d hated how boring everything had seemed. So she’d run off. To become an adventurer, or perhaps find a class meant for her. She hadn’t had any idea of what that meant—to the Lyon of now, the past her seemed so idiotic.
Staggering, Lyon walked back to the inn, the filled buckets of water straining her arms. It hurt, even walking this short distance with so much weight. But her arms were getting stronger. She was gaining muscle and more importantly—
She was leveling up in a class. A [Barmaid] class, true, something completely unbefitting her heritage. But a class nonetheless.
Part of Lyonette shivered with delight at how wrong it all was. She was a [Princess]! If her family knew how badly she was sullying her position by taking such a class—her mother even hated letting the princes take [Knight] and [Commander] classes.
It was a waste of her potential. But it wasn’t at the same time. Lyonette didn’t care about her duties right now. She just wanted to live here, in this inn, and finally realize her dream. Level. She had the [Carer] class and even a [Tactician] class! She wanted to level both up. She wanted to—
The girl had to put down one of the buckets to push the door open. When she did, she saw a familiar white, furry Gnoll cub running around the room anxiously. Mrsha ran in circles, hair standing on end, clearly in great distress.
“Mrsha!”
When the Gnoll saw Lyonette she cannonballed into the girl’s stomach, nearly making Lyon spill both buckets. She clung to Lyon, sniffing at her and hugging her tightly.
She’d thought Lyon was gone. Gone, just like Erin and Ryoka. That nearly made Lyon cry; she held Mrsha tightly.
“Don’t worry. I’m here. I’m not going to leave. I just went to get water, see?”
When she showed Mrsha the buckets, the Gnoll eagerly helped Lyonette bring them into the kitchen, although Mrsha had to push the heavy bucket across the wooden floor. Lyon let her do it; it was a cute sight and Mrsha wanted to help. And Lyonette understood wanting to help, wanting to be useful.
And in this inn, Lyonette was useful. No—it was more like she was essential if Erin wasn’t here. Without her working hard, the fire wouldn’t be fed, and there would be no water, no food. The flowers would die, and this little Gnoll would starve. That was what got Lyonette up even when it was bitingly cold and made her work and count coins. She was responsible for a life now, and that was precious to her.
Yes, she was needed here. Far more than she’d ever been back in her home, in her kingdom. Damn being a [Princess]. Lyonette thought that, and paused.
She only hated the class because she never leveled in it. But she knew…if only she could level. But she didn’t know how. It was too hard back at home. Too hard, because everything was too easy, and she was useless.
But what had Erin said one time?
“You’d be like a temporary innkeeper. This would be my castle, and I would be like a [Princess]…”
Mrsha looked up at Lyon in confusion, tail wagging frantically. The girl had to smile at the Gnoll as she patted her head.
“Let’s make breakfast, okay? I’m hungry and your stomach is rumbling And while we do—would you like to hear a story, Mrsha?”
The Gnoll nodded as she followed Lyon into the kitchen. There she watched greedily as Lyon cut thick slices of bacon and laid them gently in a pan to sizzle and pop. The girl had bought the precious and expensive meat for guests, mainly the Antinium, but today was a special day, wasn’t it?
Bacon sizzling, Lyonette found part of a loaf and sliced the slightly stale bread up. A bit of warming by the fire and some butter and more importantly, honey and it would be a treat. She still had three huge jars of honey, honeycomb, and even some royal jelly sitting in the inn after all.
Life was good. Lyon fried the bacon—she was getting better at making it crispy, not black—spilling a half-cooked slice on the floor. Not entirely by accident either—a certain Gnoll ramming into her legs had caused the mishap.
“Stop that, you!”
Lyonette scolded Mrsha as the Gnoll pounced on the greasy bacon slice. The y
oung Gnoll looked up at her guiltily with her huge eyes and Lyon had to forgive her.
“Sit there and let me finish. I’ll tell you that story now. Did you know that there are types of classes in this world?”
The Gnoll sat on her butt, tail wagging as she chewed on the bacon and stared up at Lyon. She stared curiously at Lyon as the girl spoke, her eyes on the pan.
“Oh yes. Everyone knows there are classes, but when I was a girl—my family has many secrets. Many old secrets about the world and classes and levels. My father insisted I learn each one, as part of my tutoring. And do you know? I learned that some classes are better than others.”
The Gnoll scooted forwards, eyes wide, ears perked up. Lyonette laughed as she put a slice of crispy bacon on a plate.
“Yes, not all classes are equal. Of course, each one is important, but some are more important, see? Like classes that influence people. There are [Tacticians] and [Strategists] and classes that only [Soldiers] can take like [Sergeant] and [Commander] of course…but the best of all such classes is probably [General] or [Admiral].”
Mrsha just blinked at Lyon. How much did she understand? Lyonette didn’t know her age, but she thought Mrsha was young by any standard. Still, she continued.
“A [General] can have influence over a whole army. Thousands, maybe even tens of thousands of people. Isn’t that amazing? She or he can even affect other armies with Skills that demoralize or frighten…but there are classes that can do the same outside of battle. [Lords] and [Ladies] have their own demesne, and [Farmers] control their plots of land. You see? Some classes have range.”
Mrsha nodded and sneezed. Perhaps the nod was because of the sneeze? Lyon took it as a good sign.
“So what my mother told me was that the best classes can touch entire kingdoms. Like royal classes. [King], [Queen], [Princess]…a family of rulers can all make their nation strong.”
If they had high levels. Lyonette swallowed a lump in her throat.
“So these classes are some of the best. Because they are so rare, and only a few can have them. [Lords] for example are strong and have good Skills. But a [King] will have greater skills. There is no stronger class, in that sense. Well…”