She wished she could blink to express her shock. The lack of eyelids made that prospect impossible. Risha reached in to scratch her nape, just behind her head, and helped take the edge off that shock. “I know that’s not easy to hear. I was hoping to be able to break this to you gently, since I’ve spent a year trying to figure out why your Interface didn’t activate.”
I died? How old was I? Did I live a fulfilling life? Did I have friends? Did I die horribly, or did I die in a blaze of glory, taking out scores of monsters on a defiant last stand? Why have I been oblivious for a year?! Why would I agree to this?!
But she couldn't write all those questions. Neska flicked out her tail to tap out letters, one at a time, while the witch jotted them down. “Who…was…I…” Risha frowned. “Okay, that might be too much of a shock. Let’s start with smaller questions.”
It wasn’t like she could force answers quickly. Fine. Then, without knowing anything else, why did I agree to be brought back? She tapped out {Why bring back?}
Risha let out a soft sigh as she finished writing Neska's letters. “Because you said, ‘I’m not ready to watch this world fall.’ There’s more to it than that, but…that’s what you told me. That our world was still filled with untapped discoveries, and a solution was out there, somewhere. And that we still had something to fight for.”
I don’t know why…but that does sound like something I’d say.
The witch cleared her throat. “Neska, can you pull up your Interface? I need to see some details. The Interface is exceedingly restrictive about what information can be displayed, and is only visible within a few feet of another person to whom you direct it. Mentally call out ‘status’ or ‘diagnostics’. If you’ve seen the Interface appear in your vision before, it will be much like this, but shared with me at close range.”
Neska gave her an affirming nod. Okay. I’m trusting you. Status.
The runic text returned, bound in a small rectangle that was overlaid on her vision. It shimmered, appearing as a thin rectangle of small glowing motes, suspended in the air about a foot from her face. Risha leaned in, eyes filled with wonder, looking at what Neska saw.
=Status=
Neska Aksen (F)
??? 1
=Abilities=
Enhanced Venomous Bite (1), Coiled Strike (1)
=Attributes=
Error: Complete Soul Shell fabrication process
=Titles=
Error: Complete Soul Shell fabrication process
Resolve error for full Awakening:
SOUL SHELL INCOMPLETE. MANA CORE (T5) REQUIRED.
SOUL SHELL INCOMPLETE. CLASS ROOT SEED REQUIRED.
Risha stared at it for several minutes. Her mood wavered between elation, frustration, and a single dumbfounded jaw drop as she read the last lines.
“Gods damn it.”
You want to tell me what’s going on? Neska tapped ‘yes’ repeatedly with her tail.
The witch rested her chin on her hand, glaring at the messages, and tapped her fingernails on the table rapidly. Whatever this was, it probably wasn’t good news. “Short version, dear, if you’re wondering why I’m cursing? I’ll keep it simple. Your Awakening is…unusual. It’s asking for a class root seed. It thinks you’re still human! That can only happen when your soul shell is fully complete. And it’s saying the requirement is…high. Absurdly high. As if Tier five cores grow on trees,” she muttered. “Normally, it would just happen naturally if you were classed as an Awakened. But, no. This is acting as if a class drives your tier, and maybe your evolutions.”
She pushed herself away forcibly before gazing at Neska somberly. “Neska, I will be blunt: I think it’s possible to finish your Awakening. The first test ritual gave me ideas on how to approach it. There are a few things I must warn you of first, since you don’t have any memories of the past. At least, right now.”
She rested her hand on Neska’s back. “Only show your Interface to people you trust intimately. It is a window into our souls, revealing both our strengths…and vulnerabilities. It lays our soul bare for all. It can only be willingly displayed."
“The second thing you must know is that I want to tell you everything. Everything that led to this moment. You’ve read my books, you know the state the world is in. The monsters are getting worse. We’re losing ground. My efforts, past and present, have kept humanity alive. But it’s not enough anymore.”
Risha let out a soft sigh. “I know. I was too cautious about information. Old habits of not worrying people. But we’re on a clock now. If I manage to finish your Awakening, we have to pack up and leave.”
{Why? And where?} Neska tapped out her questions using the chart.
“Two reasons as to why. First, Peolein isn’t safe anymore. Secondly, the Seekers will investigate the dead monsters. I…don’t trust them on principle.” She clenched her fist and gritted her teeth as she glanced out the window. Almost as if she were on the lookout for the men in red fatigues and shiny armor that Neska had seen previously. “They hunt monsters and kill them. Sometimes, the only monster is the one they invent.”
She then lowered her tone, as if wary of ears in the walls. “And sometimes, they conveniently ‘forget’ that their allies, the Awakened, are not monsters.”
Neska felt a chill down her spine. No wonder you kept me in the back when you heard them coming. She tapped out {But, where to?}
Risha pointed to a map on the table and rested her finger on a location south of Peolein. “We’re going to Rivilat, to the Academy of the Awakened. I worked there for many years, and have some close friends. A few of them, I would trust with my life, and yours.”
{Mine? Did they know me?}
“Some did. But most did not.” Neska felt that was a partial answer.
There’s so much…I should focus on the big details first. She wrote out a question, anxious about the answer.
The witch finished writing the letters and nodded solemnly. “Yes. We are most certainly in danger. Your Interface, this…glitch I found…Neska, this could change everything. If it works the way I think it works…it could give an Awakened a Class power, on top of the monster’s evolution abilities. It could change the momentum of this conflict tremendously.”
That sounds…good? But what makes a Class? Other than something about our souls, concentrating our will and magic into distinguishable features that aid us in a variety of ways? She knew those basics just from casual conversation and from Risha's books that described classes.
“I am an Enlightened Witch, as an example, a very high tier of the basic Witch class. Each class represents a distinct personality, power, or innate talent. Each class carries special features that set it apart from all others. An Ember Witch and a Frost Witch may start from the same root class, but express themselves differently. The same applies to monsters, the Varadur. Their evolutionary structure is…similar. At least conceptually.”
She tapped ‘yes’ repeatedly, with Risha chuckling softly. “I wish I could fill in on lost time all day, Neska. I want to. However, I worry that our window of opportunity is closing, and quickly. We have to complete your Awakening by fully unlocking your Interface, then make for the Academy, south of here, near the Garuna river, sitting on the cliffs of the Verdant Valley. I intend to fill you in on the way.”
Finally. She tapped one more question. I really don’t want to confirm this one, sadly.
“What is…experience?” Risha winced and gently rubbed her nose. “When one being defeats another, they take a portion of their essence. Experience is what drives our growth and strength. It can also be attained through non-violent means, such as intense exertions of the soul, crafting, leadership, discovery, training, or the use of magic to aid and support others. It is…slower. But my preferred method, as it is for many.”
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Neska bowed her head low, tongue flicking out slowly. So when I killed my first monster…I gained its strength. Sort of. It partially unlocked my evolutions.
I am a monster, but not monstrous. The weight of that thought slowly sank in. Now she knew why Risha said that every day. You were preparing me for this. Subtly. She tapped out a few more letters. {One more?}
Risha nodded. “One more. Then we need to get to work, dear.”
{Will I become like the old me?}
Risha’s hand stroked her scales gently. “Not all Awakened come back as they were. Some…never come back.” She bit her lip and looked away, as if remembering something that did not agree with her: either bitterness or regret. “But you’re further along than most. Count that as something good, okay?”
I will. Neska bobbed her head toward the door. It’s time to do this Awakening thing. She tapped one last message.
{I trust you.}
Risha smiled faintly, even as she wiped a tear from one eye. “That trust won’t be misplaced.” She rose from the table, gathering her things. “Here’s what we have to do. We’re going to grab supplies, lock up the shop, and head home. As soon as we finish this ritual, if I'm successful? We're leaving in a hurry."
Why?
Risha let out a hissing exhale. “Because not all monsters have claws and fangs.”
So, I was a human not that long ago. I died to monsters. Risha preserved my soul, apparently on my dying words, then brought me back as a snake.
Neska let out a frustrated hiss. But why a snake? Was it the only monster baby they had lying around at the time?! What about a dragon? Those are majestic and super powerful! Or maybe one of the beasts? I mean, I wouldn’t say no to being a slime monster with a red eye able to absorb abilities, but that’s kinda pushing my limit.
Hey, come to think of it, how the hell did humanity manage to capture monster young? That must have been tough. But the bigger question from my perspective is, why hasn't she told me who I was? She avoided that question like the plague. And she hasn't spelled out what was involved in this Awakening process. Should I be worried about those glaring omissions?
Risha otherwise ignored her hissing and tail tapping out questions; she was focusing entirely on the ritual preparation. “Neska, do be kind and hand me that vial. You’re my honorary serpent witch for the day. Maybe the Interface will make it an official Class for you. Maybe.” She let out a cackling laugh as she said that.
Neska relented for the time being. She'd get those questions answered later.
Right now, Risha had raised an intriguing point. If I do become a witch, do I get a cool hat? Do I gain the ability to entangle pests as you do with those weird hexes? Or do I get to sit in a circle of powdered bone, naked, with blood tattoos?
Wait. That last one was from one of Risha’s fictional books. Her witch came across as more pragmatic. What class was I before? Did I have one? As soon as I grow lips, the questions aren’t going to stop, Risha. You’re forewarned on that front!
Neska glanced at the alchemy bench after handing Risha the vial, which she poured with other grainy materials; this was all formulas and no-nonsense. Risha's ritual circles seemed more formulaic and less occult, and her journal notes were quite detailed.
According to Risha, the Interface served as a guidance tool to facilitate the ritual's activation. It didn’t grant power; it directed it and trained the user to wield it, and it merely highlighted what was possible.
She found that odd; were the souls the power source, and not the Interface? Note to self, if I evolve, pick an evolution with hands! It’s going to be difficult to keep flipping pages with my tail; it’s not really an optimized limb!
Neska glanced at the open journal, the most recent entry regarding the prior ritual, along with theories on a new one. It also proposed additional materials and runic effects.
Risha had once explained to a young woman looking to become a witch that some objects were preferred: things that shared similar traits. Blood and bone from the same source, or gems of a similar nature to the other focus items, were preferred.
Which was why Neska's whole body recoiled backward when Risha pulled several translucent, scaly-looking strips from a bin. She recognized them. Risha, those are snake skins! Those are MY snake skins!
Risha ignored the hissing and tail tapping while ghoulishly grinding up Neska's shed snake skins in a mortar. Neska wasn't about to let that one go. First off, those are personal items, they’re mine! Why did you even keep them? That’s like keeping locks of your hair. Or toenails. It’s gross.
Risha ignored the tail tapping of Neska’s protests. “You weren’t going to use them anyway. This should serve as a perfect focus. This ritual is for you, and your skin is a potent focus item.”
Little dead bits of me ground up to serve as a focus to make this ritual work? You’re not making this any less weird, crazy witch. Maybe I should take Wizard, or Sorcerer, if I do get to pick a class. You said they cast things differently than you do, but can attain somewhat similar results. Hopefully with less grinding of dead body parts.
She still wanted the hat, though, even if she didn’t get the exact class.
The process of preparing ingredients lasted through the evening, and they retired late. Risha took the bed, and Neska sprawled over her to steal body warmth.
The next day came too soon. Risha grabbed breakfast for Neska in the form of several chicken eggs collected from the coop outside. Neska had set her sights on a bigger meal, but the witch caught on, wagging a finger. "No, Neska, I daresay you can't fit one in your mouth. We may not return for some time, so I've enchanted the coop to let them in and ward off pests."
Says you. Ten coins says I can. The witch gave her a dirty look. Oh, fine. I'll still take free eggs, though.
Afterward, Risha prepared the room by clearing the floor space and speaking to Neska as if she were a teacher. “Circles are common ritual shapes. Triangles, squares, pentagons, and other geometric shapes work, too. They serve to contain and direct the mana for it, much as a painter uses a canvas.” Risha applied a string to a pen and traced a circle. “Nature forms natural structures in many places. Rituals, with the right shape and placement, can attain even better results than in a non-ideal location--"
Risha was interrupted by a chime sound echoing through the air. Risha glanced at the small shadowcat skull mounted on the wall. The skull vibrated with a hollow rattling, its empty sockets filled with a dim light; the gems inside them had lit up. “Proximity alert. Seekers are on their way. I was wondering when they’d show up. Guess it took longer than I thought for word to reach the encampment north of here.”
She stopped, rolled the rug back over her tracelines, then brought all the ingredients back to her laboratory in the other room, before locking the door. “Neska, I have a bad feeling. I think they might be able to tell if you've Awakened. I don't want them to know that."
Neska tapped out a rapid message. {Then I'll be elsewhere, outside. I can hide.}
The witch reached down to Neska and stroked her spine. “Alright, better to take a calculated risk. should keep you obscured. [Sanctuary Blessing].”
Sound around Neska became muffled, and her vision swam like the distortion of pond water on a clear, sunny day. A tingling sensation ran down her spine, and within a few seconds, those sensations passed.
Risha looked at her and gave her a firm nod. “One of many Witch powers. We have various magics, including curses and blessings. This one is the latter; as long as you are quiet and avoid getting too close, they will not see you. It does not make you invisible; only less worthy of interest. Also, do not use any Ability or make fast motions, because it will disrupt if you do either.”
Neska nodded sharply. Risha hurried to the bedroom window, opening it and leaving the door open. “No matter what you see? No matter what you hear? Don’t approach.”
Like I'd leave you alone with these monsters? not a chance. Neska slithered out the back window just as she heard hoofbeats in the distance, growing louder. The sound echoed down the road adjacent to the cottage, the quaint brick and rough-hewn structure that formed Risha’s home. She used the creeping vine climbing up the wall to get to the ground, then slunk low through the garden. She stopped to hide among the frostberry bushes, the leaves matching her scale coloration.
I am not sitting idle, Risha. I'm gonna see if I can find out anything about them, or worst case, provide a distraction. What she needed was a better vantage point first. She slithered through the underbrush and looped around a cluster of trees to get a better view. She found a perfect spot with a view of the front door and a window peeking into the main room, and lay in wait.
Soon, four dark-haired horses covered in matching metal and leather barding approached. Riding atop them were four men dressed in red fabric fatigues, with metal armor plating layered on top. Three of them looked young, their faces filled with boyish youth, only a few faint scars traced across their eyes, cheeks, or brows.
But the fourth man…he was imposing. A shiver ran down her body.
Metal boots impacted the gravel with sharp thuds. He was tall–almost as tall as the horse was at head height. Like the others, he wore red fatigues and a shoulder patch marked on one arm. The patch depicted an arrow piercing the skull of a wolfish beast, with a faint circle of small lines visible beneath it.
But the helmet...it made her uneasy. It bore the likeness of a serpent’s head, metal fangs bared, with a small slit for eyes. He glanced around wordlessly, as if surveying the scene. Then, he gave a silent nod to the three other riders, who dismounted but didn’t leave their steeds. He approached the door and rapped on it with an armored gauntlet.
She glanced at the other three. They all looked young and skittish. And worse, she could smell something that smelled sickly sweet. the cloying scent of death.
“Coming, coming, hold your armor already!” Risha fumed from inside, opening the door. Neska could make out the witch at the doorframe, wearing a pleasing smile. “Greetings, gentlemen. May I inquire why four armed seekers are at my front door, and your names?”
“You know why we’re here. And no one say your names,” the man called out over his shoulder. He stepped toward Risha. Uncomfortably close. “Not unless you want to cut out your hearts and hand them to her right now.”
Risha let out a soft laugh. “Really, now? Superstition, indeed! Witches can’t do that. Well, not ones that are low tier.” She took a sideways step, letting out a sound of amusement. “I think I know who you are. The helmet can’t hide the odiousness of your character, Marikand. Still chasing after harmless farmboys and monsters far below your level?”
The man stared for several uncomfortable seconds, then spoke stiffly. “I got a report about monsters out here. Ones that shouldn’t be here.”
Risha waited for a beat, then stepped away from the door. “Leave your men outside. We’ll talk here, in private.” Neska applauded her diplomacy. Inviting him in would likely leave him less–
Her hopeful thought ended as sharply as the impact of his gauntlet into the doorframe in a sharp crack of wood, inches from Risha’s face. Even as violent as the motion was, Risha never flinched. But her eyes narrowed in response, her lips pressed tight, and her arms remained folded.
The man spoke with a simmering impatience. “That’s not gonna work for me, Risha Aksen. The Academy of the Awakened’s best talent at turning dead heroes into shock troop monsters.”