“Best cases,” I began. “I get told to abandon treatment that actually seems to be working, like my VR game. That's from my mother, who doesn't understand the doctor when he talks about using video games and media for treatment. Middle cases, I get told to take things easier, that I'm risking hurting myself even more by trying so hard.”
“Worst cases, I get told I'm a waste of space and that I need to just fuck off and die.”
“And do you listen to any of it?” Stell asked quietly, eyes flashing again.
I shook my head.
“It's all bad advice,” I replied calmly. “I need a real reason to abandon treatment that I can tell is working, and if I don't try hard now my life will just be more difficult later. And I refuse to fuck off and die; I have just as much a right to live as anyone else does. I'm not hurting anybody by breathing and trying to get a future.”
Stell nodded.
“All of those are good examples. You're aware of your current limitations but still resisting a mountain of bad advice. You can observe and learn while still realizing you have much more to observe, much to learn. Wisdom combines awareness with efficiency, with success in one fashion or another. By our standards, your behavior merits the rating recorded.”
“Thanks” I said dubiously. I still didn't feel that wise. But I was done arguing. “What's next?”
“What's next are your combination traits: Speed, Deftness, Wits, and Willpower. These attributes partially derive from two of the original six, thought they can be increased directly as well. Speed is how fast you move, particularly with your legs. It's dependent primarily on Dexterity, which gives you overall control over your body, and Strength, which provides muscular power. But you can also increase this trait independently, as there are plenty of weak, or clumsy, people who can move very fast. Deftness is where Strength and Dexterity meet once again to determine your ability to manipulate objects that require a strong grip.”
“Didn't you say Dexterity did most of that anyway?” I asked. These new stats, excuse me, 'traits' seemed a little redundant.
“For objects that require almost no force to grip, like crossbows or other things with just a trigger, yes. But for things like a sword, or a bow, or even a surgeon's knife, both Strength and Dexterity are needed, at least in part. Deftness is useful to many weapon masters or master craftsmen.”
“So,” I said slowly. “This is what makes muscle-bound barbarians still fast enough with their giant swords, and slender swordsmen still able to strike powerfully with their smaller weapons.”
“I guess you could say that,” Stell replied. “These four traits reflect more focused behavior, while the first six each reflect a wider benefit. Moving on. The Wits trait is where your Intelligence and Wisdom meet to come to a quick decision, your Intelligence in providing the knowledge and your Wisdom in using that knowledge to react quickly. You'll find that it benefits your reaction times, as well as your speed in performing magic.
“Last is Will, the one I briefly mentioned first. It's also potentially the scariest.” Stell took a breath. “Will is where the awareness and resistance to influence that you get from Wisdom combines with your sense of self and force of personality in Charisma. It's used to resist when someone seeks to dominate instead of persuade you, when they secretly use magic to coerce or manipulate you, or to just intimidate you with sheer force of presence. But it can also be used to do the same.”
“What do you mean?” I asked carefully.
“I mean most people think willpower is used to resist being influenced, but it's also used to project influence. Not through words, or getting people to like or believe you, like Charisma deals with. A strong-willed person can also make others do they want sometimes just through sheer presence. It's something a lot of people forget, even those outside of Earth. Be aware when you're raising Will, you're not just raising your ability to remain free, you're also increasing your ability to dominate.”
“Holy crap,” I said, eyes widening. “You're right.”
I didn't remember who said it first, but I remembered the phrase “The right to swing my fist ends where another person's nose begins.” If I could swing my fist wherever I wanted- or, always do whatever I wanted, regardless of what other people did to stop me- I was technically very, very free, but the people around me, getting punched in the nose or forced to tolerate me doing whatever I wanted all the time- had much less freedom than I did. “Have any Challengers become tyrants with that stat?”
“Not yet,” Stell replied. “But I've noticed that a lot of villains and heroes both usually excel in this one trait.”
“Will I need it?” I asked, swiftly and firmly.
“What do you mean?” Stell asked.
“I mean will I need it, will I fail in what you need me to do without increasing this ability directly? Because, full disclosure,” I swallowed before continuing. “Being able to be completely free, to where I didn't have to put up with the abuse of others, sounds intoxicating. To make all the idiots back home do what I wanted, whenever I wanted them to... that freedom scares me.”
I wasn't exaggerating. I remember all crap I've put up with over the years. I still don't like to talk about it, but part of me wants to make those people pay. And pay very badly.
For shaming my family. For kicking me when I'm down. If I could balance the scales through sheer force of will, make sure I'd never put up with it again…
Stell sighed.
“Wes, relax,” she said. “It's not going to be a problem for you. In the first place, none of your traits will carry over back to Earth completely, and even here almost no one is strong enough to completely dominate another through Will alone. In the second place, those who do use Will to dominate usually use it to enhance their magic, and the magic you learn here won't follow you back to Earth. Finally, again, we screen Challengers to make sure we don't accidentally create any super-villains. We haven't had any yet and I'm even less worried about you than I am all my previous Challengers.”
You're jinxing me, I wanted to say. Have you people really not heard of Darth Vader and Star Wars?
“Sorry,” I said after a moment. “I'd just like to be careful of abuse. My planet's full of stories about well-meaning people becoming powerful and then doing horrible things.”
“Yeah, but, counterpoint?” Stell replied. “Your planet also sucks. No offense. But I know for a fact that, at some point, there were at least a handful of people who were either kings, ministers, priests, or other leaders that did their jobs without enslaving or hurting anybody. They just didn't get talked about because everyone else was either focusing on the tyrants they already had or obsessing about following someone else who had all the signs of becoming a tyrant in the future. And usually? Half the time the people I see in your world getting oppressed by said tyrant were in the past either oppressing the tyrant or someone close to the tyrant.”
“Well, I'm definitely being oppressed back home,” I admitted. “So I have cause for concern.”
“I don't,” Stell said with a shrug. “You're not taking any super-powers back home with you. Just try not to be a bad person if you ever wind up in charge. You wouldn't be the first person from Earth that figured out how to do so.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said, mostly because I didn't know what else to say. “What's next?”
“Well, let's configure your screen to where you can see your next four traits.”
The blue light in front of me flickered once again.
Wes Malcolm
Race: Human. Origin: Earth (Challenger)
Growth: Unrisen
Strength: 10Speed: 10
Dexterity: 10Deftness: 10
Constitution: 10Wits: 18
Intelligence: 14Will: 20
Wisdom: 22
Charisma: 12
“Is that thing going to keep updating?” I asked.
“Yes,” Stell admitted. “But I'll try and keep it to a minimum. You'll notice that, except for your W
ill, the new four stats are just an average of their two derivatives. This is because you've been taking actions that raise your Will directly, which leads to it being increased on its own. In case I haven't made it clear,” Stell said, gesturing with her hand. “You'll be able to raise your traits in two ways: directly through use, or by investing in them whenever your Rise. Your skills will work the same way, especially the magic ones.”
I was going to have to keep track of skills, as well. And I was beginning to suspect there would be hundreds of them. Oh well. Bring it on.
“Now we need to measure what you already know how to do: your skills, crafts, etc.”
Called it.
“Now, every world of mine has slightly different skills and there are probably too many to easily count...”
Called that too. Stell narrowed her eyes a little when she saw my face.
“You know,” she began. “For a guy doubting his sanity, you're doing a horrible job at being properly mystified and impressed with all of this.”
“Sorry,” I said with a grin. “I'll try and be good.”
“Try hard,” She warned. “Or I'll withhold cookies or something. Anyway,” She looked up and raised her voice. “Avalon, measure the Challenger's knowledge and see what can be retained.”
“Avalon will now appraise the Challenger,” the deep voice boomed again through the mist.
Nice, I thought. She didn't even need to hit a button for that.
“So,” I began. “I take it I can't bring all of my knowledge over here?”
“Some of what you know won't work the same over here,” Stell said with a nod. “Particularly most of the new technological advances your people have made in the last two centuries. Our mana gives us some extra rules.”
“I see. Good thing I don't know any rocket-science, robotics, or advanced physics.”
“Yeah, and your people should probably ease up a bit on all the splitting and fusing together of atoms. That's just my opinion though. My race was the only one other than yours that ever figured out how to do that.”
Stell shuddered briefly after saying that. She began talking quickly again, as if she didn't want me to see her flinch.
“Anyway, Avalon, move it, we don't have all day.”
“Can it actually hear you?” I asked, curious. “I mean, can you actually talk to it like a person? What is Avalon?”
“Good question,” Stell asked. I thought she seemed grateful I wasn't asking about her race. “Avalon and the other worlds have a little bit of sentience. Think of a bunch of really sleepy giants, who occasionally wake up to serve as witnesses and scribes, then go back to bed. They won't answer any random question or hold an hour-long conversation with you though. They just record or announce noteworthy events, and then go back to let everyone else on the planet run themselves.”
“It feels like you do a really good job of telling this one what to do,” I offered.
“Well, yeah,” Stell said with a confident grin. “That's my job. But I can't really get it to kick people off its surface, or swallow them in a sinkhole, or whatever.”
“That's a relief to know,” I grinned back.
“Yeah, but it's also the reason I have magic. So don't get any ideas,” she teased. Then the deep voice boomed out again.
“The Challenger has passing familiarity with the following skills...”
“Here we go,” Stell said as the giant blue screen shifted from showing my Traits to a slowly forming list. “We're probably going to collapse these on your screen, so that you don't see a big giant list every time you want to examine how you grow.”
General Athletics.
“Huh,” I said. “It's been a while since I was physically active, but I'll take it.”
Unarmed Fighting.
“Really?” I said, surprised. “I barely made past yellow belt.”
“These are just the basics,” Stell offered. “It doesn't mean you're an expert by any stretch.”
I nodded, satisfied with that explanation.
Archery.
“Wait, wait,” I said. “That was just one brief course at one time.”
Stell rolled her eyes.
“I swear Wes, it's like you have to argue about every little thing.”
I went ahead and backed off. If Avalon thinks I can shoot a bow, then maybe I can shoot a bow.
Horse-riding.
“One three-day weekend, but whatever,” I said. I shrugged when Stell glared at me. So I was arguing with a planetary supercomputer. Shoot me.
Sailing.
“That wasn't even one full day,” I said, and this time I ignored Stell's hiss to be quiet.
Staff-fighting.
“Huh?” I completely cocked my head at this one. “Is this because I walk with a cane?”
Stell groaned. But I was getting a little worried.
Long Blades.
“No, stop!” I said forcefully. “Wait! I've never even held a sword except for one time at a Renaissance fair! I literally just picked it up and waved it around!”
Stell actually looked concerned when I said that. But Avalon did not change.
Shield use.
“Definitely not,” I argued. “Stell, I know enough about shields to know I don't even know how to hold them properly. We have a problem,”
“We... shouldn't,” Stell said slowly. “Avalon should just be drawing from your memories.”
“Well, I don't remember holding ever holding a shield or learning how,” I insisted. “Stell, can Avalon be bugged?”
“Bugged?” she wrinkled her face at that. “Oh, that kind of bugged. No, it's a planet, not one of your Dane or Banana computer-thingies.”
Before I could tell her she got the names wrong, Avalon boomed out again.
Light Blades
“No, I don't,” I called out. “And if I really did have that skill I'd have a criminal record to prove it!”
Seriously. Name three companies or colleges who will still accept you if you put 'knife-fighting' anywhere on your application.
Bludgeoning Weapons.
Well, okay, there are some debt collection agencies that would probably take that one.
Polearms.
At that point I turned to see if there was a medieval squire standing behind me, who also happened to share my exact same name. But Avalon just continued with fudging my resume.
Light Armor... Medium Armor... Heavy Armor.
Mass combat.
By that point I was sputtering heavily and Stell looked really concerned.
“You're sure you've never even dabbled in any of this?” She asked carefully.
“I am absolutely positive I've never worn plate armor while stabbing people with a lance as part of a group exercise. And there's no way anyone would have let forget about it if I had.
Speechcraft.
No. Not even debate in high school. Though I was glad to be done with all of the 'murder' skills.
First Aid.
Finally, I sighed. I did still have my old boy scout handbook. I could maybe take that one.
I don't even remember the rest of the list. But in the end I was just staring blankly forward while Stell was watching me carefully. When Avalon had finally finished forging me a new identity, Stell carefully began walking around her stones toward me. She reached out her left hand to grab at some low-hanging branches, doing something I couldn't see.
“So,” she began. “One last time, you don't remember any of those combat skills but archery.”
“Stell, I swear to you,” I said. “ I have no memory of using any real weapon. Most of those are illegal now in my country to begin with.”
“Even staves and blunt weapons?” she asked carefully, still slowly walking around her rocks.
“They're not as illegal, but I know using a quarterstaff or club is different from walking around with a cane. And I've never-”
“Catch,” she interrupted.
A large, but perfectly straight branch flew at my face. Surprising
myself, my hands leaped up to grab it and protect my nose. I stared at it. It was maybe four feet long, and for a moment I wondered if I should grip it at the end or put one hand on the middle. But Stell helped come to a decision about two seconds later.
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