First Song

by Blaise Corvin

  “If there are Aelves on Earth before the Shift, the sight of a human kid shooting laser beams out of his armpits would have attracted their attention pretty quickly. No. Being a bard is good. I can’t fight all the Aelves on my own. They’re stronger than us in every way, and that’s probably not even counting their own orbs.”

  Uniting humanity and preparing them for the horrors to come was his priority. Since the days of old tabletop games, long before the virtual reality video games Noah had grown up with, bards were a class of character that usually acted as support for other types of characters. Their role was simply to strengthen the people they fought with. Bards made others stronger.

  “What if I had told the sphinx that it was better to be heard instead?” he wondered. Noah pushed the thought aside. It was useless to think about paths he could have taken but didn’t. Besides, maybe if he had chosen that route, he would have died.

  Oddly enough, a wave of relief washed over him. He knew his role now and had a better idea of how he was going to accomplish the giant task ahead of him. If someone had asked me how I was going to help save the world against the Aelves, I definitely would have never guessed any of this. But now, I know what my strengths are. Like a game, maybe my stats can be exploited. I’ll need every advantage I can get.

  Noah’s confidence rose. He knew his role, but he needed to get back to exploring his tools again. After willing away the Listener Stat screens, he replaced them with what he assumed was his skill tree.

  The guitar was a six-string, or would be. The first time he had plucked the only string, a few other screens had appeared displaying different skills. Each string must represent their own skills, like tiers. I bet if I get another string, I’ll get more powerful skills. For now, let’s see what these skills are and how they’ll me help me. He examined the main screen again.

  Listener Skills:

  [Listening] (Passive): Maxed

  [Stumble] (Passive): Level 1

  [Harmony] (Passive): Level 1

  [Jack of All] (Passive): Level 1

  Noah willed for descriptions to appear so he could have a better understanding of what any of this meant.

  Currently unable to level up Archetype skills. Must have dispensable skill points to distribute.

  A little frustration welled up in his chest. “Well, that makes sense. I probably need to level up, but I don’t have any display showing me how to do it, or any requirements or anything. I don’t even have a level for my Archetype!”

  If a game designer had actually constructed his abilities, that designer would have been fired in the real world. This was ridiculous. The screens were too vague and only hinted at greater powers. Noah sighed and thought, It’s like I’ve been thrust into a game without any tutorial. But hey, that’s pretty much life.

  The displays continued to change, showing more specific descriptions.

  [Listening] (Passive): Maxed

  Wielder may hear sounds with heightened clarity within a two hundred yard range.

  Noah raised an eyebrow at the description. “I can’t believe I never bothered to test the actual limits on my hearing,” he muttered.

  [Stumble] (Passive): Level 1

  10% chance to automatically stumble to avoid immediate danger.

  He made a face at this awkward skill. “It’s like a goofy version of a spider sense or something. I need to test what will even qualify as danger. Gosh, this might even cause issues if I don’t have control over it.” So far, his new abilities hadn’t exactly wowed him. He moved on.

  [Harmony] (Passive): Level 1

  By playing music, the wielder may assign people to each note, helping the wielder create strategies or find balance for each person.

  “This should be renamed backseat driver,” Noah noted with a frown. “I don’t know how I’ll implement it yet, but maybe if I combine it with my high Charisma stat, I can find some use for it.” He moved on to the last skill.

  [Jack of All] (Passive): Level 1

  Wielder can learn every non-Archetype skill with greater ease, depending on the skill. Alignment with the wielder’s Listener Archetype will determine the strength of Jack of All. Maxed level of learned skills is five (5) per level of Jack of All.

  “Whoa,” Noah breathed. “I could learn Kung Fu.”

  Of all his new abilities, Jack of All had Noah the most excited. His dream of using his new life to learn new abilities that would help him survive in the Shift, like basic survival, navigation, and a myriad of other things seemed much more attainable now. Before, even with all the knowledge of his previous life, Noah had been having a difficult time juggling all his responsibilities and focuses. Building his relationship with his parents, scouring the internet for more information, and just simply enjoying his time with his family while he had it…all took time. He knew from prior study that if he had completely devoted his life to work, it might not have been the most efficient way to actually get things done either.

  Even if he’d had time to learn new skills, actually practicing would be necessary to make them useable. Then trying to avoid unwanted attention would be difficult on top of all the time constraints. Learning several new languages would have taken just as much time in his new life as it would have his old one, but his new skill might change all of that!

  “With Jack of All,” Noah said, “maybe I can learn whatever I want!”

  Languages, archery, weapons crafting, town building, and a hundred other skills would have eaten up most of Noah’s time before. I can’t just make myself strong, he thought. I need connections, people to invest in long before the Shift occurs. Charisma and maybe [Harmony] will help with that. I’ll figure out the details later.

  Noah hoped that now, with time, he could be both an encyclopedia of knowledge and be at the top of his game physically. His plan had already been to learn the basics of most martial arts, medieval weaponry, and gymnastics. But maybe now, in effect, he could be the closest thing to the ultimate human specimen.

  He frowned. “Even then, it won’t be enough.”

  Noah needed money and resources. His knowledge of the future would take care of his finances. He’d already made headway with tricking his father into unexpected wealth. Maybe with Jack of All, he might be able to explore more…discreet avenues to make money. As a child, he’d have a difficult time investing any money at all, even if he had it to spend. But if Noah learned how to make another identity for himself, he could potentially become a billionaire in ten years.

  The money itself didn’t excite him, like he’d already reasoned before, it would be useless when the Shift came. No, he’d need those resources to spend on things to help prepare the world for what was to come. It wouldn’t matter how strong or smart he would be when the Aelves came. A single person couldn’t stop them alone.

  Noah willed away the screens, a little overwhelmed by the information. He let his eyes trace the space between the stars on the ceiling, just like how Doc had taught him. Before the dream and the Trial, the empty space on his bedroom ceiling had only reminded Noah of how nearly impossible it seemed to unite so many people against a threat they didn’t even know existed. He’d honestly felt a little lost.

  But now as his eyes traced the constellations he had learned on Doc’s porch, a new screen appeared in his view on its own.

  You have learned the mundane skill [Navigation by Stars]. Level one.

  Under the stars, the wielder cannot get lost, able to plot a course (based on skill level).

  Noah smiled as he was filled with a sudden, savage joy. He closed his eyes and couldn’t wait to wake up in a few hours. The world had changed for him—again.

  Chapter 13

  Ten-year-old Noah and his parents sat at the table, each flicking through their own tablet. Lana rifled through local news, a slight frown on her face. Clark’s eyes darted between different graphs while his forefinger tapped on the table, a sign he was calculating numbers in his head.

  The tip of Noah’s fork burst the center of
his egg, letting the yolk bleed into his hash browns. Next to his plate, his own tablet sat on the breakfast table, the screen split into two windows. The first window showed a top-down perspective of a figure, a man clad in white robes, face covered with a scarf. He held twin scimitars as he walked carefully through a forest. Letters floated above the figure’s head, showing the name of the player controlling the avatar, “Shiek Freak”, the most famous streamer for the decade-old online game, Adventures on Corinthia.

  He’s in the Forests of Dumadull, Noah noted to himself. Hopefully, Johnny’s party doesn’t have to face him anytime soon. Shiek Freak is a loner, and likes exploring more than fighting, but they still haven’t lost a single battle.

  Noah exited out of the game stream window, letting the other side take over the full screen. The larger picture contained several complicated graphs of different stocks and a little window with international news. He took a bite of his hash browns as he absorbed the information. Several familiar companies appeared on the screen, numbers changing every second – Kanazawa Corp, Muller Green and Sons, and Bender Steel.

  Some part of him wanted to find the pattern between the numbers and use that information to boost his investments. A blue, translucent screen only he could see appeared in his field of view.

  [Harmony]

  Wielder may assign each company their own note.

  Noah hid a smile and willed the prompt away. With his Archetype skill, [Harmony], he could have assigned each company their own musical note. Then if he played a guitar with those notes and tried to make different songs out of them, the skill would allow him to understand patterns through the music. He didn’t need to waste time doing any of that, though–his knowledge of the future had already been enough to make him a multi-millionaire by nine years old. Of course, most of that money had been made through an alternate identity, one kept secret from his parents.

  “What are you smiling about there, champ?” his father asked from the across the table. “Did you see something in the numbers that caught your attention?”

  The numbers. That was how his father referred to the companies they had invested in based on Noah’s suggestions. When he’d been five, it had taken a lot of effort and patience to convince his father to invest. But by the time he had been seven, the companies had done better than anything Clark had ever dreamed of. In fact, Kanazawa Corp’s success was at least ten times larger now than in Noah’s previous life at this point.

  He was certain his father had played a small role in the international solar company’s unexpected growth with his voting rights. To Clark, it didn’t matter how much money you made. The passionate accountant cared most about cost efficiency. He must have voted as a shareholder after crunching numbers.

  Noah shrugged and answered his father’s question. “I was just thinking that Kanazawa Corp’s control over Asia isn’t enough. With the right contacts, they might be able to find footing in America.”

  Clark adjusted his cheap, owlish glasses and hummed with curiosity. He leaned forward a little over the table and gave his son a fierce grin. Noah recognized the gesture–his father was preparing for battle. Their daily spars about international business usually began with a simple comment like this. Before Noah could make a proposal, influencing his dad to act and maybe even create a few thousand American jobs, Lana Henson cleared her throat.

  “Boys,” she warned sweetly without looking up from her tablet.

  Lana didn’t say anything more than that because she didn’t have to. Noah’s mother had a way of saying a lot in one word. Her inflection had told them two things. First, her husband had a limit on how much business could be discussed at breakfast. Second, there was no way her son was going to continue a conversation with food still in his mouth.

  Noah swallowed.

  Clark may wear the pants in the house, but it was Lana who told him when he could wear them and how. Noah’s mom was the nicest person he had ever known, but she could be frightening sometimes.

  Suddenly, Noah’s tablet buzzed, and a small hologram of a chubby-faced blond boy hovered above the screen - his best friend, Johnny Dormund. “Hey, trash monkey, we’re fighting against Anonymoose in thirty minutes. Make sure you get your butt over here.”

  Johnny was talking about their weekly video game session for Adventures on Corinthia. His friend had a party of four adventurers who had been playing together for a year before Noah had started watching their games. After acting on Noah’s small suggestions while he played his guitar, their group, Dragonx42, had rocketed through the international rankings. Even though Noah didn’t even have an avatar in the game, Dargonx42’s success was a direct result of his meddling. He’d been getting great practice with [Harmony].

  “Trash monkey?” Lana asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Johnny’s hologram widened its eyes, head turning around slowly. “Uh,” Johnny stammered. “Hey there, Mrs. Henson. Just gamer talk. Right, yeah. You look great today!”

  Noah’s mother tried frowning, but he noticed a hint of a playful smile at the edge of her lips. She said, “Tell your mom I’ll see her at yoga later tonight.”

  “Will do, Mrs. H!” Johnny’s hologram turned to face Noah again and gave him a nervous look. “Seriously, bro. These guys are second in the world, just under Shiek Freak. We need you for this.”

  Noah nodded but looked a question at his mom. Even though it was summertime, Noah was homeschooled and still had homework every day. Lately, his mom had been giving him assignments that would have made a college level student tear his hair out. To anyone else, the tasks would have been too challenging, but with Noah’s skill [Jack of All], he was luckily able to accomplish them with relative ease.

  In fact, he loved that his mom kept trying new ways to teach and challenge his way of thinking. Not only did it bring them closer together, always giving them something to discuss at the dinner table, but it also helped Noah gain new mundane skills with [Jack of All]. Over the years through homeschooling, he had acquired a few levels in [Geography], [Astronomy], and a hundred other subjects that his orb abilities had qualified as skills.

  Lana tapped a finger on her arm and finally gave a soft smile. She said, “Even geniuses need a break. Go ahead and play with Johnny. Just tell him to watch his mouth. I know how you two can get when you’re gaming.”

  Johnny’s hologram head bounced up and down, giddy and nervous. He grinned and said, “See you in thirty, Navi. Don’t be late, Brains.”

  With that, the hologram vanished, and Noah’s tablet screen went black. This would be another opportunity to enjoy his childhood, to create a memory he could hold on to for after the Shift. He was legitimately excited to see his friend, even if their maturity levels were different, it was intellectual. Having a child’s body still allowed Noah to enjoy spending time with other children.

  But helping Johnny’s group fight against Anonymoose held real benefits for Noah’s plan to help humanity. Some part of him felt a little guilty for not telling Johnny his real purpose for hanging out, but the face of the Aelves and their horrifying power held sway in Noah’s thoughts, reminding him that guilt wouldn’t save anyone’s life.

  Noah noticed his mother continuing to frown while scrolling through the local news. Eventually, she let out a frustrated sigh and folded the tablet. Noah’s mind connected the dots quickly, and he had a good idea what was worrying his mom. Before he spoke, his Charisma stat tickled the back of his mind, telling him it was probably better to ask his mom what was happening instead of just stating it as a fact.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Lana stood up and began to collect everyone’s plates for the sink. “You know all those potholes downtown?”

  Noah nodded. Michigan’s famously harsh winters always did a number on the roads. The city was constantly working on them during the non-winter seasons, at least, they were supposed to. “Yeah, what about them?”

  “The mayor is what’s wrong,” she complained. “I know several other people who
have made complaints to city hall about the potholes on Main Street getting fixed, but nothing happens. It’s actually getting borderline dangerous in some areas, I think. You should have seen Mrs. Colmeyer’s car last week. She needed a new tire and a new rim. It’s not like she has the money to replace that willy-nilly. ”

  “According to her finances,” Clark rebutted mildly, “she can.”

  Lana shot him a look, and her husband shrank inside his oversized suit like an owl being faced down by a hawk. She pleasantly warned, “Honey, it’s been so long since you’ve been to yoga.”

  Clark quietly sipped his coffee, hiding behind his mug. Meanwhile, Noah made a mental note to do some hacking later that day. Levelling that particular skill had definitely come in handy. With it, he planned to discreetly use one of his shell companies to send a congratulatory email, and a fat check to Mrs. Colmeyer for winning a contest that she’d definitely never remember entering.

  “And how is it the mayor’s fault?” Noah asked.

  His mom squinted at him, suspicion marring her face. “You’re doing it again.”

  “Doing what?” Noah replied innocently.

  She gave him a knowing look, “You’re asking questions which you already have the answers to. I’ve been going on for weeks about how the new mayor is probably corrupt and tied in with the east coast mob. You’ve heard why I think he’s incentivized to keep the downtown area riddled with potholes.”

  “Yeah, so his cousins who own several auto repair shops in that area can profit,” Noah said with a nod. He added with a joking tone, “It’s most likely to launder money.”

  It was definitely to launder money, he thought. Over the years, Noah’s mundane skill [Hacking] had grown to level three. Apparently, that had been enough to get into the repair shops’ digital records remotely from his own computer. He’d found that the shops really did have connections with the new, charismatic mayor. He hadn’t known what to do with the information, but speaking with his mother gave him a fun idea.