Day 47

Damien Franklin

Upon waking, but after his usual process, he smiled in anticipation. Fantasies of plates stacked with cookies and grilled food encouraged him to full wakefulness. Today was a day of celebration. The obsidian acolyte was thrilled. This was a social activity that rarely caused him any unwanted stress. Everyone would be aligned in their motivations and actions. Predictable. People became easy to engage with, but also disengage with at these things. Disappear into the crowd should the conversation turn boring.

That meant fun!

Damien hummed with excitement. Delicious things to eat and uncomplicated conversation. Celebrations always simplified things. Those there would be either happy or upset. And the latter could be dismissed as not his concern at all. That wasn’t something he was expected to deal with. The only social convention that would be hanging over his head was to have a good time. Since it was a party for the Sixty, the obsidian acolyte wasn’t worried about that. They were all his friends.

His first stop of the day was to bank the bulging bag of cores swelling in the corner. Rations were cheap and Damien hadn’t needed to restock until recently. Even sweets didn’t eat into his finances too much either. So the errand had been delayed until the bag’s seams were being tested, magic weaving or no magic weaving. Taking advantage of the free morning, he went off to the screens whistling poorly. A hobby picked up in imitation of Clarissa. It turned out to be harder than expected.

It was awkward to carry the lumpy bag, but he got there. There had been a few moments where that hadn’t seemed certain. The bag didn’t seem to want to arrive in one piece. The sound of popping seems, creaking cloth, and even one core slipping free. That had been a stressful couple of seconds juggling the bag without straining it to pick up the escaped sphere. Still, Damien made it. With relief, he promised himself to be more prompt at depositing cores. Best to avoid the crisis altogether. He begged his future self to follow through knowing that was a gamble.

At the screens, the obsidian acolyte was greeted and automatically logged in. He was in the middle of twisting the deposit tube into place when a flashing caught his attention. The Path tab was quietly glowing gold. His finger launched to the notification, but stopped just short. Damien looked guiltily down at the misused bag of cores. The whisper of Past Damien from thirty seconds ago reminded him of his promise of promptness.

Sighing, he picked up the lumpy bag and began stuffing the cores down the tube as quickly as possible. Every few seconds Damien glanced at the flashing to assure himself it was still there. Trying to dispel the small fear that it might disappear. The numbers pinged ever higher, but that was barely noticed.

Finally, his backstock ran out and the last core tumbled down into the dark. Damien selected the blinking tab in the very next moment. He dropped the bag absently, already forgotten on the ground like an empty husk. He only had eyes for the notification that popped up. It was stupendous.

Xavier Ceaitle Recognizes Your Accomplishments

The Next Step In Your Path Is Unlocked

A shining grin appeared on Damien’s face. Excitement burst through him like a live wire. It had been long suspected that upgrades to their Paths would come. The Warrior Path was the only one that could be considered not a beginner class. Acolyte screamed its nature. Now everything was confirmed. More importantly, this meant new information would be given. Without a doubt, the obsidian acolyte believed there would be a new book.

Tapping away the notification played an animation. Since making his choice, the Path tab had been taken up by a large golden square labeled Acolyte. Smaller button-like squares offered a way to change your Path or purchase Path related items. Now there was a change. The big square flashed and a gold line descended from it as the screen scrolled downwards. After a point, the line split up into several different branches. Each ended in a different Path

Damien wasn’t interested in most of the options that showed up. Combinations of classes that likely came from reading everything everyone got and applying some of the suggested methods to his style. He had even made use of the weapons pamphlets. In the end, there were only two that mattered and were worth considering.

The first was Mage, a basic continuation of an Acolyte that used Willpower to cast, or Thaumaturgist, which did seem special to his eyes. He read the descriptions and then compared the two for longer than his impulse wanted. However, the obsidian (soon not to be) acolyte refused to be anything other serious about this. There were times you had to be an adult.

No matter how much that sucked.

Once the acceptable amount of time had passed for mature consideration, he picked Thaumaturgist. The description could be summed up as “magic scientist.” Which Damien was all about. His dabbling with modifying spells and making new ones had apparently opened this Path. It was noted right there in the summary. Which made it the smart choice along with being the first impulse.

With the selection locked in, a notification popped up to say a book was added to his account free of charge. Ready to be sent into the screen locker at any time. He licked his lips at the title. Simple-Complexity: The Underlying Principles Of Mana by Xavier Ceaitle, The Grand Wizard of Oir’Talafaigh. Damien had expected something like Advanced External Mana Manipulation, but this seemed grander in scale. Like being handed a high-level physics textbook after finishing a general physics class. Daunting, but so welcome.

Galvanized to dizzying levels, he almost selected to send the book right away, but a better thought came to mind. On the side of the screen awaited a button. One that allowed the purchasing of other Path books. Testing a hope and theory, Damien leaped in and was rewarded. All the books for the new Paths. Among the list were several books with the term Advanced in the title. The hoarding of cores had been honored by fate. His new balance was more than enough to purchase them all.

The blue lightning flared and the locker opened up to reveal tomes of knowledge stacked across several shelves. Damien grabbed up the ever-suffering bag. After doing the calculations, he strategically packed them in. The loose cloth now bulged in the shape of books, an all-new test of its limits. Several corners threatened to poke through. It was an impressive effort, but not every book could fit. Many more would need to be carried by hand. Which wasn’t an issue. The newly designated obsidian thaumaturgist was unbothered by the burden. Only too pleased with his haul.

His day couldn’t get better.

Which reminded him about what was happening today and led him to think about his obligation to the Sixty. This time Damien’s impulse was outright wrong. He couldn’t just run off to his room, disappearing for days on end. No matter how much the idea of spending every hour until every page had been scoured half a dozen times sounded like the greatest idea of all time. The obsidian thaumaturgist balked at that. He knew his duty. Everyone needed to know about this development as soon as possible. Friends didn’t leave friends in the dark. Not about life-changing events or much of anything. Even he knew that!

With a bag strap digging into his shoulder and a stack of books in his arms, Damien waddled over to the lounge. One side had been permanently cleared for use in their celebrations. It was declared the “traditional spot” after their First Floor celebration. Three times would make that certain and the Sixty would make sure that opportunity came along. Breaking loose and partying was becoming necessary to their new way of life.

It was there that Malachi and other Council members had begun to arrive to get things set up. The party was still hours away, but their leader believed it better to be prepared. Upon Damien’s arrival, the stack of books made a heavy thunk on a nearby table. An instant relief for his sore arms.

The leader of the Sixty came over, gave the books a curious glance before saying, “Hey, Damien. You missed the scouting report this morning.”

“O’ uh right,” he replied in blinking confusion. The obsidian thaumaturgist didn’t doubt being told about that, but there was no memory of the conversation. “Sorry?”

“Hah, don’t worry about it. I’ll give you the low down later. It’s a free day so I’m done with work for today.”

“Alright, anything interesting?”

“Just the usual dungeon nonsense. Giant trees, wooden elk, and metal monkeys. We’ll deal with it all soon enough.“

Metal monkeys? Damien was intrigued, but was on a mission. “Ah ok! I have something to tell you!”

“Is it about your… light reading?” asked Malachi with a small smirk.

“Yes? No? Look how many there are! I can not wait to read them all… Not really related though. Have you been to screens yet? Since we cleared the second floor?”

“No, decided to get some sleep before I went to the scouting report. Then came here to get everything in place. Why?”

Showing his teeth proudly, he answered, “My Path upgraded! I am now a thaumaturgist. An acolyte no more!”

The humor drained from Malachi’s face in an instant. “That’s where the books came from. This is big. Wait, did you get all of those from one Path?”

Now feeling a little shy, “No… I bought the other upgrade books. It seemed better to have my own copies since then I do not have to wait for others to finish reading.” Then added quietly and a little guiltily, “What if I am the only one who can upgrade now? How long would I wait for the new books?”

“If there is anyone that should have every copy available, then it’s definitely you who should have that collection,” assured Malachi. “It can only help the Sixty out. I better take a look and see if I earned myself an upgrade too.”

The bearded man put action to his words and headed off to the closest screen. Damien found himself in a quandary. This was his moment to rush away to isolation. He had fulfilled his duty and spread the news of potential upgrades. Going to his room was now acceptable. Hedging back and forth between Malachi’s back and the books, the obsidian thaumaturgist sighed. The curiosity was too much to ignore.

Very carefully, with visual and kinetic stability checks, he placed the books safely on the table. There was only the smallest hesitation that someone might take them. Just a tiny flicker of concern. Nothing really to worry about. Really. Damien only looked back once to make sure while rushing to catch up with Malachi. These upgrades would present new answers about the world. It had less to do with magic than the books, but adjacent insights had a place in figuring out the workings of the universe too.

O’ well, thought the obsidian thaumaturgist. It was supposed to be a social day anyways.

Malachi was already logged in when he caught up. The usual filter kept the screen fuzzy and unable to see clearly. Out of curiosity, Damien had made attempts to look past the distortion. So far the best result had been to see the structure of the magic involved. Which even at that level blocked the screen pretty effectively. He didn’t really want to invade people’s privacy, simply wanted to understand the Mana construct at hand. It was more than an illusion. Aspects of the protection were quite complex to stop workarounds.

“Did you want to see what I got?” grinned Malachi. Excitement over his personal growth had overwhelmed the seriousness of being a leader.

“Of course!” admitted Damien. Making the quick decision that it was best not to mention that ignoring all of this for the books was very tempting to him. Then he blinked. The distortion was gone. “I can see it now.”

The sword acolyte scratched his beard in thought. Smiling sardonically, he said, “Ok then, guess we just needed to give permission to share our screens. Or imply it. So obvious, but unspoken. No better way to make someone feel stupid.”

Damien agreed, thinking of several times in video games where a useful function was just the right button combination away. Putting aside the flash of remembered misery, the two of them watched the screen. The Path tab was blinking for Malachi. His friend had earned an upgrade.

As before, the Acolyte square flashed and the options were laid out. There were fewer than the obsidian thaumaturgist had been offered. Though, there was one unique one. It blinked with the special aura of being recommended.

Malachi considered and quickly came to a decision, “There’s no point in abandoning half my style with Mage or Bladedancer. Battlemage is the way to go.” The blue lightning gifted the new battlemage with a book titled The Balance Of Spark And Steel By Sir Cedric Of The Trueheart Order. Damien desired it immediately and enviously. It hadn’t been an option to purchase.

“You should read that quickly!” insisted Damien.

The leader of the Sixty laughed, “I’ll read it soon enough, too busy today. Gotta spread the news and barbecue up a feast.”

“That makes perfect sense, but make sure you read it. Do not put that off!”

“You… couldn’t purchase this one could you?”

He was caught! With warm cheeks, “No… I guess your class is too special for that…”

“Hmm, wonder if I can purchase yours?” The battlemage pulled up the class item menu and scrolled through them. “Are any of these books the one you got with your class?”

“None of them.”

“Well, at least you have a special class.”

“Not sure how that is helpful,” frowned Damien. “I just want to read yours too.”

“Haha, don’t worry I’ll read it promptly. Anyways, you’ve got quite the backlog to work through until then.”

“True,” smiled Damien. “So many glorious new books with lovely, lovely new knowledge!”

“Alright, let’s head back and spread the word! There’s a good chance since there are two of us with upgrades, that others will too. Means there’s multiple accomplishments to celebrate. We’re gonna party hardy today!”

Following in the wake of Malachi’s good mood, the obsidian thaumaturgist felt virtuous. He had done well to ignore his impulses and done the right thing. It didn’t matter that the knowledge would have gotten out eventually. That was a certainty. The battlemage had an upgrade, which meant that the discovery was destined for today. While buying supplies for the party, his friend would have seen. All of that was beside the point though, because Damien had known. Learned something valuable first and then shared it. Promptly and not hours later after devouring the books.

And not because someone happened to ask the right questions.

His first interaction in The Pit had been weighing upon Damien. Reflecting on that day, he found that his behavior hadn’t been the best. Not good at all really. Being a team player had never been something he was good at. Nor asked to most of the time. People thought him weird overall and that meant interactions were often brief by design. Less conversations than instructions in those cases.

The obsidian thaumaturgist had expected that as his lot. To be alone. Solo.

That lesson had to be thrown out the window with the Sixty. At first, Damien had done that because of the change in him. The new vibrancy to his emotions and new budding understanding of them in others. He tried to reach out as had never been possible for. him Not only was the initiative successful, but they had also embraced him as one of them. Not an Other, but an Us.

With that came the revelations and reflections on his past. That first day bothered him the most. He had been selfish, not even thinking how useful knowledge of the screens would be to the others. Malachi had shared it immediately after as Damien had heard. That made perfect sense and that hadn’t occurred to him at all. But now, the discovery of the Path upgrades was a chance at redemption. A mirror of the past. The perfect opportunity for the obsidian thaumaturgist to make the right choice. Allowing him to choose everyone over himself. An accomplishment. A small personal one, but no less warm to his soul.

He remembered hearing once: being a better person than you were yesterday is the best thing you can do. It had always made sense to him and today Damien felt he had lived up to that ideal.

Vincent Salvador

The party that day raged with supreme cheer. Two floors cleared, The Pit had acknowledged them, and they had obtained a new level of power. The new Bladedancer was already drunk with glee at being among those to have an upgrade. Sadly not everyone had achieved it yet. Around three dozen had made the mark, but that left a lot behind. By the flames in their eyes, the motivation to fix that was strong. Soon all of the Sixty would be at the same stage again.

Based on the Path upgrades, Vincent assumed that there was at least another stage to be acquired. A thrilling concept. He very much wanted to push himself to find out what was next. There was something satisfying about earning a title for your skill. Bladedancer felt appropriate, but not the symbol of mastery. There was something higher. Most of the upgrades seemed the same.

Just as there were more floors above, so there was room for them to grow.

Acolytes of Will became Mages and those of Faith became Priests. Molly stood out as an outlier as an entitled Witch. The cool-eyed woman hadn’t seemed very amused when announcing it. If anything, the bladedancer was certain there was a smirk of pride at the word. Among the melee fighters, there were a variety of new names. Sword users got the same as him, spear users became Whirlers, and the scout party all upgraded to Rogues. Their sole ax fighter became a Wildstriker, a name that seemed fitting to the savage man. Shield users in general were newly dubbed Guardians or Defenders. Warner’s Brawler path turned into the Pugilist and Clarissa with some of her archers gained the Ranger Path.

It was a continuation of the video game theme that The Pit used to integrate them. It worked well. They celebrated the change no less wildly. On some level, it might be like giving a tin sheriff's badge to a cop, but the acknowledgment was there in a language they understood. In big blazing letters, the Sixty were no longer beginners. An achievement worth drinking too.

And drink they did!

There was the now traditional punch, beer, and even some wine. The swordsman had insisted on the last. Going so far as donating some cores for the cause. They were basically doing backyard grilling, but that didn’t mean wine should be absent. It was drinking no matter the situation. Vincent adored the taste too. The best beverage to sip in celebration. This world had given his swordsmanship true purpose and now it had honored him. Worth every core to have good wine toast with, and taste.

The party itself could be labeled as a frenzy. In the beginning, it had been calm, full of laughter and conversation. People ate as Malachi and Warner grilled, sharing beers over the open flames. Everyone was feasting almost as quickly as it was cooked. A sip of their drinks for almost every bite. This fragile cycle maintained itself until there was nothing more for the fires to sear. There was still food to eat, but full bellies meant that drinking became their sole consumption.

That's when things went into full swing. A magical device that played music from home was procured and blasted. There were some tears of homesickness, but mostly people danced. Releasing all the stress built on the edge of death. Laughter and dancing, frantic gestures of life.

Vincent watched as others slinked off for more intimate life-confirming deeds. Clarissa dragged off Amiyah and Malachi being led away by a giggling Julia. Vivian and Kai had remerged on several different occasions. The swordsman had his offers, but preferred to watch the party. Sipping the wine slowly, reflecting on everything that happened in the weeks past.

That was until his fellow bladedancer Daisy Solomon and Malcolm Bowser came with a combined temptation. It wasn’t in him to deny this one. After all, this was a day of celebration.