A World Called Memory

by M J Sweeney

  “Yes, this is much better than teaching today. It’s on days like this that I’d much rather be out in the forest, you know?” He gestured outside at the day. It was clear and bright, if a bit on the cold side.

  I smiled. “Surely, sir. I miss it.”

  “Not sir. Just Ascard.”

  I wondered how he got the “Swift Hands” part, but didn’t ask.

  “So, what can I do for you, Cordaen of-the-Forest?”

  “It’s a bit complicated.” I hesitated. “Can I tell you a story?”

  He laughed and clapped. “Indeed, that’s what I’m here for!”

  So I told him my tale, since first entering Memory until now. I left some details out, such as the location of Eragdas Alfar and the details of the Quadrinity Quest.

  He was a good listener and easy to talk to. When it came to tell of my time fumbling through learning a little of the lute and the limerick I had made of Marcus, he laughed and clapped again. He also listened seriously when I told him how I’d been feeling inexplicably drawn to Anthul of late, though I didn’t really know why. When I discovered that the God was also the God of Music, I had come to the Bard’s College. I didn’t tell him that I had wavered about coming, but the confrontation earlier today had prompted me into action.

  “Thank you for your tale, sir. It is quite the adventure. I see you don’t have your lute with you?”

  “No. It’s back in my room.”

  “A shame, I would’ve liked to hear you play. I was wondering if I could check something?”

  I nodded, intrigued.

  “May I examine the symbol of Cylvai, if you still have it?”

  I retrieved it from my potion belt. He looked at it for a moment, then held it, a subtle golden glow coming from his hands.

  “Yes, that makes sense.”

  He gave it back to me. With some concern I took it back. “There was residual magic on it, even though it is not inherently magical itself. I think the God, or maybe Gods, have been reaching you through it.”

  Hmm. Something had been reaching towards me.

  “What do you know of Anthul?” he asked, leaning back in the couch and taking a sip from his tea.

  “Not much, really. He’s one of the Elven Gods, considered one of the Elder Gods, up there with Cha, Una, the Nameless, and Enh. And of course Andromeda, the ultimate governess.”

  “Yes, that is correct, as far as it goes, but not exact. May I?”

  I gestured at him to go on.

  “The Nameless is truly the first, or the last. He, or it, rather, is the formless emptiness from which all of the Gods sprung. He is not strictly speaking Death, as emptiness is beyond even the concept of Death. Andromeda is considered the feminine incarnation of Nameless in this nodal juncture of the galaxy; the Divine Mother, or the Formless Womb. Though that bit of theology is a bit complicated. I’ll skip passed that if I may?”

  I nodded my acceptance.

  “The other four are the Elder Gods, each with but a single name and a single word of power. Anthul, you see, in old alfar is an alteration from his original name, which is simply Anh.” The way he said it, I could hear the air vibrate with some power.

  “In order, it would be:

  First is the Nameless,

  Then Comes Peace—Enh,

  Then Comes Light—Cha,

  Then Comes Song—Anh,

  Then Comes Mystery—Una.”

  As he spoke each word of power, the air vibrated oddly. He continued, “Thul means wind, and An means North, which is another of the God’s names—‘Northwind.’ This name describes the years he spent in the North during the first age, taming some of the wind’s more chaotic tendencies and learning its music.

  “From this point of view, the idea that Anh is the lord of elven music, or even an elf, is a small misrepresentation,” he explained. “I am not saying the elves are wrong exactly”—He smiled ruefully; clearly he didn’t consider himself an elf, despite being halfway—“as Anh certainly loves the elven spirit and the music of the wild places of this earth. From Enh’s silence Anh crafted the first harp, and made the music that made the beings that now inhabit the world, just as Cha made the world itself with His Divine Light.”

  “Thank you, that is interesting. That leads me to a question—how would it be possible for me to become a Priest of Anthul?”

  “So is that what you want?” he asked, one blond eyebrow arched.

  “I wish to become a Priest of Anthul,” I replied with more certainty. “But I don’t know if I am acceptable.”

  Ascard clapped. “You are! You are! Just the kind of spirit we’re looking for.” He smiled at me jovially.

  “Oh…”

  “So perhaps you wish to make service to Anthul, the first bard, Master of the Northwind? All it takes is an oath of service. We can do that now, if you like.”

  I nodded and smiled eagerly. “Yes, sir. That feels right.”

  “In that case, I think one of these might suffice.” He reached over to a small desk beside us and pulled out a bunch of tangled holy symbols. Each had a simple leather thong and a miniature carved wooden harp painted in silver. He untangled one and put the others away.

  “Anh listens,” he intoned. “Do you promise to uphold the principles of a Priest of Anthul and be guided by His hand? These principles are knowledge, sharing, teaching, and compassion.”

  “I do.”

  “Do you promise to preserve the Balance in this world, and in all things seek Harmony with your fellow beings?”

  “I do.”

  “Do you promise to right the Imbalance, with force of arms as necessary, to the limit of your ability?”

  “I will.”

  “Then by my power as B’Anh Goldaire, I invoke this trinket with His power. May it serve you well.” The golden light flashed briefly, dazzling my eyes. He handed me the miniature harp. It was still warm to the touch. I put it around my neck.

  My interface dinged and I heard horns and trumpets. Heavenly host! Level 20.

  “Do you have questions?” Ascard asked.

  “Some. Mostly about… what does ‘preserve the balance’ mean? I’ve heard that kind of thing before, but it always sounded a bit hollow and abstract.”

  “I’ll give you a couple of examples. Balance is when you know you are about to do something wrong and you stop yourself before it goes too far. It is also when you listen to that inner voice and make amends for any wrongdoing. It doesn’t mean you never make mistakes, or that you cannot accept others making mistakes. Balance is a dance, not a fixed position. Compassion is important. You can forgive a mistake, but not necessarily if it is repeated! It doesn’t mean being passive or letting tragedy occur just because it seems inevitable. Preserving balance also means protecting the weak and helping others as your inclination takes you—attempting harmony and balance between two friends that may be arguing, or two groups, or two cultures. It doesn’t mean interfering without a little forethought, though! Does this help?”

  “A little. Perhaps.” Time would tell. We talked some more about the oath, my role as a Priest of Anthul, and possible training at the college. Due to my unique starting point, Ascard offered to personally assess my skills over the next few days, then assign me some tutors to help my education. He did say that training was not free, but it would likely be within my means. If I did become short of coins, they would hold an account for me, trusting me to repay anything outstanding as and when I could.

  “I have another question.”

  He nodded for me to go ahead.

  “I am happy to follow Anthul and uphold the tenets, but…” I hesitated.

  “Go on.” He nodded again.

  “I don’t think I want to become a bard,” I went on in a rush. “Is that all right? I mean, I do like playing the lute…”

  He laughed again. “Dear chap! Not at all. Although you could qualify for that training…” He looked at me thoughtfully, stroking his goatee. “If you don’t feel the calling, so it is.”

>   I grinned back at him sheepishly in relief. I didn’t want to become stuck behind an instrument, playing magical booster-ballads, while in the front of my group (if I got one), others got to fight it out in melee. From what I understood, a bard was the ultimate jack-of-all-trades, but it would feel too complicated for me to choose between running from the back of a group, as a kind of defender, to the front of a group and attack or tank. Better to stick with what I knew best.

  “Do you have any suggestions? I mean, Anthul is known as the god of bards, after all.”

  “Suggestions?”

  “For specialisation later on. Better I start planning this now rather than later.”

  He smiled again. “That’s the spirit. I wish half my students were so motivated.” He looked thoughtfully at me for a moment. “A divine knight might suit you. Or perhaps a druid or deva, if you wished to pursue the divine spellcaster roles.”

  I thought about that. I knew some of the basics of the druid—they weren’t quite like the normal stereotype. Although they did tend to harmonise with nature, trees, and animals, they also focused on the fae, ghosts, the otherworldly, and things like debuffs and curses—and seemed more of a pet-mancer than a warrior to me, so not very appealing. Although it probably aligned well with being a wood elf, I still wasn’t that interested.

  “A deva?” I asked.

  “A divine incarnation of the god—often an animal or beast-like spirit such as lions, djinn, dragons, that kind of thing. In Anthul’s case, usually a great white griffon.”

  “Hmm…” I murmured. Flying transformation would be nice, but it still wasn’t that appealing. “And the divine knight?”

  “One of the more simple specialisations, but powerful nonetheless,” he remarked.

  “Go on, please,” I said.

  “It combines some nice elements of both priest and knight or priest and warrior, which you basically already have. It will enhance what you’ve got, for the most part. Though, as you may have gathered, Anthul does not have so many followers, as he wishes for no high priests or official church location.”

  “Is that likely a problem?” I asked.

  “In some ways, to be honest, yes. Our church is small, with less followers, less support from guild members, less money, and less political influence. But we also have greater flexibility and, dare I say it, more fun.” He smirked at me.

  I laughed. “Yes, I can certainly go with that. Can you tell me more?”

  “You would need to complete quite a bit of training, I suspect, which takes some time, fulfil at least one of our unique quests, and meet all the requirements for the Upper College. Are you interested?”

  My interface dinged again. This time, I took a look.

  / Become a Divine Knight of B’Anh Goldaire /

  / Initial Requirements Met /

  / Accept Y / N /

  I thought a moment and decided it simply felt right. I knew I should look up all the specific details, but decided to trust my instinct and what felt like the God’s promptings. Hopefully I wasn’t delusional. I blinked on yes.

  Next, we went back downstairs to finalise my official registration with the college secretary.

  “Georg, I want you to put Cordaen down here as a new student. He’ll be paying for private tuition. There’s also a joining fee.” He looked at me as he said this.

  “All right, how much, sir?” I asked Georg. The man smiled thinly at me. I think it must have been his natural look—tight and concerned. He was clearly a quality-control kind of fellow.

  “One zorb twenty dran is the standard joining fee for private students, plus five dran per day, or three dran per class if you’re coming casually,” the man recited.

  It seemed a little expensive to me, but I guessed I was getting a special opportunity with private sessions with Ascard.

  “All right.” I counted out a week in advance, including the upfront fee. Georg handed me a receipt.

  “Out of curiosity, what is the class fee for regular students?”

  “Oh, it’s basically the same,” Ascard replied, “as anyone who can afford the sign-up fee can also afford private sessions. It’s just that we prefer younger students to join classes for better efficiency for the teachers, and the older students such as yourself can come privately.”

  I thanked Ascard profusely for the opportunity to study and train with him, and we shook hands and agreed that I would return the next day to begin training and demonstrate my limited ability with the lute. As I walked back to my room on the south side of the city, I accessed the interface.

  / Divine Knight Specialisation Requirements /

  A divine knight is a combination of warrior, priest, and defender. Of all the classes, the divine knight has one of the better sets of talents for defensive adventuring. They are very hard to kill, hard to surprise, and hard to argue with. For this reason, they are often employed as foreign diplomats and investigative policemen. They tend to have a strong arm and high charisma. They are also known as the “the spy with the hammer fist,” and not known to be overly subtle with plots and plans.

  Divine knights make great strategists and diplomats, with excellent combat and defensive abilities to back it up

  +5 Intellect, +5 Vitality on passing specialisation requirements (Level 60+)

  +10 to All Social and Persuasion Skills, -10 to All Crafting, Enchanting and Alchemy skills

  Can gain Warrior Abilities and Priest Abilities to Tier II, and two Tier III Abilities from the Primary Class (no Tier IV available)

  Can combine two level 4 auras, and two level 4 buffs into one (check class lists for ability descriptions)

  Can use one ability from each tier for free 1/day (zero cast time, no mana or stamina cost, and can be cast when stunned, held or otherwise immobilised, but not charmed)

  Must make a solemn oath to any one Divine and its current church following - to uphold the goals and tenets of the Divine Mandate

  Requirements:

  Priest, Warrior or Knight base class (met)

  Minimum Level 60 (unmet)

  Vitality 60 (unmet), Charisma 40 (unmet)

  Required Skills:

  Divine Favour: 60 (unmet)

  Lore: 40 (unmet)

  Perform/Play instrument/Orator: 40 (unmet)

  Persuade: 60 (unmet)

  Politics: 40 (unmet)

  Primary weapon: 60 (unmet)

  Spellcraft: 40 (unmet)

  1 Olde Language: 40 (unmet)

  Miscellaneous:

  *Visit at least 3 different Seelie Racial Cities (1 met)

  *Become liked with at least 3 races (other than your own) and with at least 1 of the disliked seelie races (2 met).

  *Become liked with at least 3 Guilds or Churches other than your own (unmet)

  Wow, I thought. That was quite a list. This was going to be harder than I thought. It seemed the divine knight was both a warrior and a support spell-caster, but were also fulfilling roles such as diplomat, foreign ambassador, spokesperson, or war-leader as required. Quite a diverse skill set, but I really liked it. It would be good to push my boundaries. I also noted that the riding skill was not a required part of my subset, though it was considered fundamental for most knights. This was good, as I didn’t think I’d make much of a horseman.

  In this milieu elves were not typically expert horsemen nor did they have a large cavalry, as they preferred the forests. Elves were often good with animals in general, but they didn’t domesticate them as a general rule, unlike humans. The reality was that horses and forests did not go well together; no sane rider wanted their horse to go lame from riding over uneven ground. In my case the riding skill seemed to be replaced with learning an olde language, which was odd. I wasn’t sure if that was usual or just something to do with Anthul.

  On the ranks of dispositions, I was ‘liked’ by both high elves and moon elves, but not so much by the other races—the rest mostly from neutral to accepted—so a bit of work was required there. I had gathered that increasing dispositi
ons on a large scale was usually a slow and tedious process. At least I wasn’t in any disliked or hated categories—unlike most other races, you had at least a few standard negative dispositions—barbarians and high elves did not get along for example, nor did goblins and dwarfs, and so on. The only other race that seemed generally well liked by the others, were the gnomes.

  I checked my quest log, then checked my new holy symbol and interface as I walked.

  / Chosen of Anthul / Quest Completed

  [New Ability Gained - Blessing of Anthul - Identify 1/day - modified by Intellect and Lore skill]

  / Free Ability Granted by Deity, No Points Used /

  Now, that was really good. I still had a spare active ability point to put into a combat ability, or something; I had been waiting to see what would be best. Now I’d be able to identify magic items for free. When I looked at the fact that my lore skill was only at (15), I realised it would take some practice and study before I could do that efficiently. Damn… more work ahead, and bookwork at that. Blech. But such is the God’s decree.

  / Holy Symbol of Anthul / Rare Mini-Harp Amulet

  [+10 Lore, +5 Persuade]

  Nice, I thought, some good bonuses. I also really liked how it looked, fingering the silver harp. I checked my level up and got a nice surprise.

  / Congratulations Cordaen Sequoia /

  / You have gained Level 20! /

  / Journeyman Status /

  / Eligible to join a guild /

  / Bonus Tier II Abilities /

  There were a number of new abilities I could now get from Tier II, plus the ability to upgrade my Tier I abilities. Once I was settled back in my room, I looked at some of the Tier II list and chose to see more details. It was interesting to see what some of the Level 4 abilities might grant.

  / Active Abilities / 5 points

  Warrior Tier II Active Abilities

  Charge +30/60/90% More Damage, 30/20/10/5 second cooldown, 1-2 seconds Stun, +10% Critical Hit Chance, range 3-10 / 3-20 / 3-30m, +300% Movement Rate, 200 Stamina, Requires relatively flat ground and uninterrupted terrain to succeed, can be activated towards any object, Level 4: +20% Armour Piercing (Requires Two-Handed Weapon)