God Class, page 20
[Ability: The Ties That Bind. Type: Celestial/Passive. Rank: None. Cost: 1 Gift. Cooldown: None. Effect: The Deity has perceptional awareness of all who have received a Bestowment or a Gift of Divinity. Minor Bestowments connections will be far weaker than those of direct Divinity. These scale and can inform the Deity of location, status, and allow for minor communication]
Silas read and re-read the information. It seemed to him that Level Ten abilities solely focused on the innate ability to grant something to others or add additional things to his interface. [Minor Bestowment] was still a mystery in many ways, and even though he did not want to use an ability that could potentially make someone more powerful on an enemy like H’Alik, he still could not help but be intrigued at the concept. But the real catches were the Gifts. While he would not know more until he found a viable candidate, he could still infer that this was something on a massive scale. He couldn’t imagine what a Fate-Altering rank could possibly be if [Obliteration] and [Morning Star] weren’t even ranked that high; both of those were listed as Catastrophic.
He sighed as he realized he couldn’t dwell on this any longer, then asked his Mind’s voice for the breakdown of the abilities he could choose from before Vigask lost his patience.
[Question accepted: Level Ten Ability Choices] it replied instantly, washing away the former text and scripting new words in its place.
[Summon Familiar. Type: Planar. Rank: High. Cost: 646 Mana. Cooldown: 72 hours. Duration: Not applicable. Effect: Summons a familiar linked to the spirit of the user. The familiar will be unique to the summoner and will remain present until destroyed. The familiar will have its own set of stats and abilities and will be subject to evolutions based on its environment, diet, and summoner]
[Conjure Spirit Guide. Type: Planar. Rank: High. Cost: 228 Mana. Cooldown: 24 Hours. Duration: 3 Minutes. Effect: Conjures a Spirit Guide from another plane of existence. This guide may provide vital information, map out surroundings, or provide advice on current situations. The Spirit Guide cannot be harmed and cannot attack]
[Quick Learner. Type: Mental/Passive. Rank: Mid. Cost: N/A. Cooldown: N/A. Duration: N/A. Effect: Instantly gain a +1 to the rank of a new skill at the time that it is learned. Does not exceed the maximum rank of 5]
Not bad choices, though it didn’t require much thought to see what would help him most at the moment.
The spirit guide thing would be great to help navigate him outside of the cave system, but it wouldn’t do anything if he was dogpiled by a bunch of human-eating Goblins on his way out. Then there was the passive ability, [Quick Learner], which in theory would be a huge boost. Potentially immediately advancing with any weapon, ability, or even professions like mining could have a massive advantage, but with his [Universal Understanding] it was almost pointless. He already had two skills at the 5th rank.
Besides, as a someone who enjoyed fantasy and sci-fi so much when he was younger, he already knew what was the most appealing; he was almost giddy just reading it for the second time.
A familiar. An actual familiar. Some of his favorite classes in gaming had a pet or summon system, and secretly he had hoped that if this was anything like a game world then there would be something of that nature. Part of him wanted to use it right away, and if it was something fierce enough, they may be able to break free with its power. But the information was vague at best. It could be something akin to a necromancer’s abilities which would undoubtably be something awesome like a skeletal warrior or mage, but something like that might not be enough against hordes of enemies that didn’t really seem to give a shit about what they were fighting. If it was an elemental creature he would have a better shot, but no guarantee. Of course, it could be a dragon…
He shook his head and waved that thought away. If anything, it would be a baby drake that he would have to grow and maintain, and if he summoned it here it would just get eaten by the Goblins immediately; it was his deer summoning move scenario all over again.
Silas chose the familiar but decided not to do anything with it just yet.
Hopeful, yet still feeling like he was going to his own funeral, he scurried out of the hole and back to the room. Vigask was waiting, still unmoving and unphased, and now Rae had gotten himself up as well. Rae gave a wave, sleepily yawning and stretching as the morning sunlight poured through the smoke hole above them and illuminated their humble abode.
“I do hope you did not stink the place up too badly! Seemed as though you were in there long enough…” He quickly moved past Silas and made his way down the narrow corridor of their makeshift bathroom. “Ah! It does stink! Just as I assumed!”
“Will Rae be joining us today?” Silas asked, rolling his eyes.
The commander gave no response, only waving for Silas to follow and heading out the hall.
He hobbled over to Vigask with the best defeated Charlie Brown walk he could muster, then followed the commander down the flame-tinged corridors toward H’Alik’s quarters. Silas felt like it was a death march.
In the silence of the walk, he tried to wrap his mind around his last few days. His fear had been dying alone, painfully, and in his sleep in a hospital bed. It was all laid out for him; it was his destiny. Now he felt more alive than he ever had, physically and mentally. His current fear was dying here, in a humid cave system, painfully, boiled in a large cooking pot and eaten by little green creatures. For a split second, he found himself missing his mom and sister. Then, the dark, familiar hall that ran up to H’Alik’s quarters came up on them and he pushed all thoughts aside except for his impending death.
Either the ability would not work, and she would kill him. Or, the ability worked too well, and she killed him.
“Alright… here we go…”
“Please come again, m’lord! Thank you so much for your patronage.”
The innkeeper had a look of horror, relief, and feigned happiness on his face as he waved Rainier goodbye in the morning. He, his guards, and Carp all had arrived under the cover of nightfall, choosing to wait until the town was nearly asleep before entering the gate and approaching the inn. The startled expression of a drunk innkeeper seeing the emperor himself enter his establishment had nearly caused the man to soil his pants twice over.
He had already soiled them once.
The Whispering Whale was not much to look at, but then again most of this town had been nothing but dreary brown and gray wood as far as the eye could see. The gathering hall was small and quaint, a short bar running its length with an assortment of low-end spirits, homebrewed mead, and cheap wine, along with a warm hearth and several tables and chairs. There had not been quite enough rooms for Rainier and his party at first, but the innkeeper quickly served the Empire as best as he could by removing and refunding two patrons; both had almost been eager to leave after hearing that the emperor would be staying there.
The innkeeper’s wife worked the kitchen, even at the late hour, to ensure Rainier and his guards would have warm meals. Several of the guards had been older men who mad unsavory comments toward the wife, comments that the innkeeper had no choice but to ignore, and Carp cringed whenever the men would speak. Rainier did not do a thing to stop the behavior. Instead, he just sat and smiled while gazing out of the window that face the harbor.
Fujiwara Sonju’s ship was still docked, meaning no citizen of Asrashire dared to cross the emperor and warn the head of a rebel house.
Eventually, some of the female guards decided to knock the older men down a few pegs, handling the situation and causing the uncomfortable evening to dissipate. The innkeeper quickly took over his wife’s duties so that she could leave before anyone decided to start again, and Carp was grateful that she left. He wanted to say something, to stand up for a mistreated citizen of the Empire at the hands of their own guards, but he could not. Rainier would not aid him, and the guards would torment Carp physically and emotionally, if not just kill him outright. So, he slid down in his seat and eyed his soup as if staring at a lake in a daydream.
“We thank you for your service to the Empire and your emperor,” Carp said as they were leaving that morning. He offered a bow, but nothing else.
Rainier did not pay for the food, the rooms, or anything at all when he traveled. In his eyes he already owned it all anyway. It was not meat, broth and vegetables owned by the innkeeper and his wife, if was all his, and they had just crafted dishes with his kitchen, with his utensils and his ingredients. He had not stayed in an inn, he had stayed in his inn, and the innkeeper just happened to be running it in his absence. This was all documented in journal two-hundred sixteen, pages fifty-seven to seventy-two by Carp.
When the cart moved down the street, the townsfolk quickly moved like dead leaves in the face of a hurricane. The flag of the Empire rose high above their carriage, a red banner with a golden frame and a shimmering silver star at the center, and the sight of it triggered reflexes of fear and retreat for many of the older population; those who remembered when Rainier and his forces claimed the lands of Galleon with a ruthless display of bloodshed and destruction. Such a simple banner, crafted of simple colors, meant death in the hearts of so many.
They rode down the center of the street, kicking up mud from the evening’s rain as they made their way down toward the docks, and toward the rebel trade ship.
“He is here, Carp,” Rainier said after a long stretch of silence. His tongue slid from his mouth and licked his lips before they curled into a smirk. “I can feel his presence, I can taste his traitorous stench staining the air we breathe.”
“You believe it is him, my lord? Red Hand Sonju?” Carp asked, pulling out his trusty journal. “But, sire, it is a trade ship docked in this fair port. Admiral Fuji-”
“Not admiral, Carp,” Rainier interjected, then gave a quick wave of his hand. “Sonju has lost that title many moons ago now.”
“Yes, of course. Apologies, my lord. I meant the traitor, Red Hand Sonju, would not be wise to accompany a trade ship to a seaside town this close to the capital. Our troops last reported that he was still at sea with his fleet, and the last they docked was on the Shakuun Shores far southwest from here. He must have sent an envoy. We could detain them and question them, even search the stock of their ships. I will make preparations at once…”
Carp could not control beads of nervous sweat that formed at his brow, or the knot that was twisting in his stomach. Interactions and conversations were his job, it is what he has sworn himself to do in Rainier’s service, and yet he felt that persistent strain on his soul that he was following the wrong path in their dialogue. Should he have just agreed? Should he have not said anything at all? But then what would his role be? How could an advisor advise without questioning?
Rainier chuckled and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“That is the mind of Fujiwara Sonju, dear Carp. Deceptive, strategic. It is what made our forces at sea rival that of our forces on land. A simple trade ship…” Rainier could not hide the excitement pressed on his face. “Tell me, Carp. Why would he not send an unmarked trade ship from Shakuun? Why not hire the people of the desert to operate it and pawn their goods? It is simple, Carp,” Rainier answered before Carp even processed the question. “The sail of the ship, it means something. It is a sign that the rebel’s still roam free, and that others who oppose all that I have built are free to join them. As for why it is not the Honored Hundreds…”
“It is…” Carp picked up where the emperor trailed off, as if on cue to do so. “It is because he knew you may arrive… and he would not risk his personal ship, the fastest in his fleet.”
The carriage halted, wheels skidding gently in the mud and horses neighing as the carriage operator pulled the reigns. Before them sprawled the docks, bustling with traders and merchants of the various corners of the Empire. Crafted items of various cultures, rare meats and fruits indigenous to their homelands, and beautifully smithed weapons. There were furs, grains, and textiles, all spread out across the docks and exchanging hands between those of the sea, and those of Asrashire. When Rainier’s cart stopped, all eyes on the docks moved towards them and silence blanketed the once rowdy crowd. Many moved to bow or kneel before Rainier even exited the cart.
The warmth of a fresh morning sun beat down on the emperor, his tattered scarlet robes, trimmed in tarnished gold and dazzled with various dull gems of rich violet and azure blue reflecting its light like a walking nebula. Carp wrote down how, despite the wet and muddied conditions of the roadway, even the dirt seemed cautious to stand in Rainier’s path as not even a speck had clung to the bottom of his robe or even the sides of his gold-plated sabatons. As the emperor approached the docks, his eyes fixated on the red hand printed sail, he adjusted weathered, faded jewelry on his wrists and fingers absently. Spinning his rings until they perfectly aligned with his knuckles, each holding a ruby, emerald, topaz, or pearl set in various precious metals, he smiled with a wry grin that sent waves of cold pressure down the spines of the many merchants.
This was many of their first times witnessing the man this close. When Rainier entered a township, city, or even a countryside, most watched from windows at a great distance, or fled altogether. Many of these merchants represented lands that Rainier had ravaged so furiously that they were still rebuilding after all of these years. Yet, if there was a scowl of disdain to be found, it was lost among the crowd or held within.
“Make way for his highness, your emperor, Lord Rainier! Make way!” Guards charged forward and cleared a wide path, despite the many traders and merchants not daring to block his way to begin with.
Carp marked down that many of the guards performed these tasks solely for the purpose of seeming useful to the emperor. He noted it specifically as, “having their lips so firmly planted amongst the emperor’s rectum that they could practically taste yesterday’s breakfast.” He scribbled the note out a moment later and opted for just stating the actions as they were; should Rainier see the note and take offense, jeopardizing Carp himself along with the guards.
“Move it along!” An older female guard said, shoving two merchants back and knocking their fruits to the ground.
Rainier paused, then looked to the merchants who were scrambling for the rolling fruit that would be snatched up by competitors in a moment’s notice. Quickly, noticing his gaze, everyone stopped their actions as if frozen solid. Several melons rolled off the dock and into the shallow water, bobbing along with the gentle current, and no one dared to budge.
Slowly, Rainier turned his focus back to his prey and cleared his throat.
“Sonju…” He bellowed, his voice somehow calm yet booming. “How gracious you are to give us the gift of your presence on this day.”
All was silent, but for the sounds of lapping waves and the distant call of seabirds. Ships, cradled in the arms of the water, bobbed in place.
Rainier chuckled, lifting the crown from his head and running fingers through his hair before placing it back down.
“Oh, Sonju. How long must we play this game of wolf and rabbit?” Rainier stepped further down the docks, the planks creaking under his heavy steps. “You make port so close to my home, and yet you expect me to not pay homage? Not to even gift a passing hello? Why, the head of a rebel House steps straight on my doorstep. It would be… unwise of me not to share a greeting.”
Suddenly, a figure began to emerge at the bow of the trade ship. A dark silhouette, the sun at their back carving their shape into the skyline. He stood at the very edge of the boat, one boot planted on the ship’s railing and both arms coming to rest on their lifted leg. The end of their jacket, flowing black and trimmed in leather, rippled with the bay’s breeze at the back of their knees, matching the dark leather of their tricorn hat. Boots rose to halfway up his shins and gave way to plumed red trousers with several leather belts crossing at his hips. On either side hung a sword, dual rapiers with pommels representing a moon and a sun, and just above them were two identical flintlock pistols, with hints of even more firearms hidden amongst the confines of the coat.
As a cloud shifted over the beams of the sun, the features of the man came clear to all who bore witness. Eyes like that of a hungered shark, skin hardened by the sea and tanned by the sun, a trimmed mustache and beard that hung in pin straight formation at their jaw. Fujiwara Sonju, head of House Sonju, former admiral of the emperor’s naval fleet, and conqueror of the high tide.
The man stood, comfortable and fearless, as he returned the smile that Rainier had offered.
“M’lord,” Red Hand Sonju mocked, removing his tricorn and placing it at his heart for a bow. “What an honor it is for this one to see such majesty on this day. The Gods above must truly bless us.”
Rainier was not tainted by the derision that lingered on every word Sonju spoke. He stepped forward, and his guards huddled around him.
“The sea has not been kind to you, Sonju,” Rainier answered. “Perhaps it is time to step down from your vessel and return to the capital. Make this simple, and your punishment may not be reflected on your crew.”
“My word, how generous of you,” Sonju answered as he returned the cap to his head. He brushed the stiff strands of his long, black hair from his eyes and let the expression of his face fall into seriousness. “However, I am saddened to inform you that I have not the time to see Tartune on this day. Though, I recall that it is just lovely this time of year.”
“Sonju…” Rainier said slowly, losing his own mild-mannered tone and adopting a bite. “We both know how this ends. Do the Empire itself a favor and come with us quietly. There is no need for more bloodshed on this day.”
“Lord Rainier, for the first time in the decades of our relationship, I agree with you.”
Red Hand Sonju moved like a sun-washed shadow. He fell backward, hitting the planks of the ship on his back and fully rolling until he was on his feet once more, crouched down with a clear bottle of sloshing emerald liquid in each hand. From over his shoulders, dozens of the bottles flew free like a cascade of arrows. Each contained the same mixture, though each bottle varied in size and shape as if repurposed from various other containers, and they soared toward Rainier and his guards in a gleaming arc.
