Chapter

Ten

When Brin woke up, Hogg was carrying him. Hogg had been carrying him this whole time, metaphorically and otherwise, so that wasn’t new. It stung his pride, but he needed to get over that. It was the fate of children to be carried by adults, and he was a child again. At least his body was, and in this world, the gap between children and adults was even bigger than it had been in his previous one.

The sun was up. It was morning, and not early morning either. The landscape had changed again, back to the curvy moss-covered trees that had surrounded Travin’s Bog. It felt like their entire journey had been one big circle and he was right back where he’d started. For all he knew, that was the case.

“I’m up,” said Brin.

Hogg let him down. Brin felt a bit woozy, and his first few steps were unsteady. Whatever drug Hogg had given him earlier, it was still working. The pain was gone, but the tiredness remained.

“What’s happened since I was out?”

“A lot of nothing. I think we’ve finally lost the army’s outrunners.”

“That’s a relief,” said Brin. For some reason, the news just made him feel a bit anxious. The undead had been terrifying, but now that they were gone he felt kind of aimless. “What happens now?”

“I guess that depends on what you want to happen,” said Hogg. “But we should talk about this with the others. Let me pull them up.”

Brin expected Hogg to show a window to them like he had before, but instead, he spoke a few words in the magical language he’d heard Lumina use. Unlike with Lumina, the language sounded quiet and hushed when Hogg spoke it, and Brin’s mind wanted to slip past the words without really hearing them.

Copies of the other three Heroes appeared right in front of them. Without [Know What’s Real], Brin would have been tempted to believe they had teleported in place.

The Heroes looked tired. More worn down, less polished, but glorious all the same. Galan’s golden armor bore heavy rents in places, and the artful designs on his shield had been marred, but it was unbroken, just like him. His armor had lost its shine, but his eyes were still full of brilliant determination.

Lurilan’s clothes were covered in mud. The left sleeve of his shirt had been torn away, and a tan bandage covered his forearm, seeping through with blood, but it didn’t affect the steely strength with which he held his bow. His posture was elegant, his manner refined.

Lumina’s robes were splashed with mud and probably blood as well. Her sleeves looked like they’d burned away to the shoulders, and she’d lost her hat along the way. Her blonde hair was a frizzy mess.

She was beautiful. His adult body would have appreciated her beauty more; he didn’t think this boy had gone through puberty yet. But maybe it was better like this. As a boy, his admiration could be unreserved and pure.

“Wow!” said Lumina. She stepped towards Brin, cautiously reaching out a hand. “He’s so lifelike!”

Brin flinched. “What’s going on?”

“I created mirror images of them here, and images of me and you over there. Now we can all speak naturally,” said Hogg.

“I haven’t heard of [Illusionists] creating mirror images of other people before,” said Lumina.

None of the Heroes seemed surprised at this development. Clearly they’d already figured out Hogg was an [Illusionist], or he had told them.

“It’s not the Skill. I’ve created them with channeled light. Guided somewhat with freeform spellwork,” said Hogg.

Brin didn’t really follow that, but it must’ve been impressive because Lumina’s eyes went wide. “How is that possible? It’s so perfect. I wouldn’t even know it was an illusion had you not told me. Can other [Illusionists] do this?”

Hogg snorted in derision. “I sincerely doubt that. Listen, I ain’t accustomed to talking about this kinda thing, if you get my drift…”

“Never fear, comrade,” said Galan. “We will keep your secret.”

“Would you swear an Oath to that?” asked Hogg.

“I will not. You shall have to trust my word of honor and the goodwill you’ve earned with your heroism these last days,” said Galan.

“I’ll not betray your trust,” said Lumina.

“Nor I,” said Lurilan.

“Um. Me neither,” said Brin.

“I guess that’ll have to do,” said Hogg. “There is an Oath that I think we should all swear, though.”

“Ah, yes. I’ll start,” said Galan. “I swear on my Class and levels never to reveal the nature of our Quest nor the method by which Brin made himself the beneficiary of a System Quest. I further swear to avenge anyone here who, by torture or coercion, is forced to betray this Oath. So help me Solia.”

Lumina went next. “I swear on my Class and levels never to reveal the nature of our Quest nor the method by which Brin made himself the beneficiary of a System Quest. I further swear to avenge anyone here who, by torture or coercion, is forced to betray this Oath. So help me Sezorat.”

Lurilan and Hogg both swore the same oath. Lurilan swore by “Magelin” and Hogg swore by “Nedramus.” Then they all waited for Brin.

“Why, um, are we doing this? If I can ask,” said Brin.

“Of course you can,” said Lumina. “The rewards for a System Quest can be… extreme. To someone on our level. And unfortunately, there are those who would seek to… repeat your tragedy in a similar town, if it meant a chance at a System Quest. There are those who would see one hamlet, or five, as a small price to pay for such a chance. We swear this particular Oath because if anyone breaks it, the System will notify us, since we’ll be impelled to avenge them. Does that answer your question?”

Brin nodded. It seemed odd to him that the Oath only had a clause for if anyone was forced to betray the Oath, and nothing for if they did it voluntarily. Apparently losing your Class and levels was considered punishment enough.

“I swear on my Class and levels never to reveal the nature of your Quest nor the method by which I made myself the beneficiary of a System Quest. I further swear to avenge anyone here who, by torture or coercion, is forced to betray this Oath. So help me Solia.”

Alert!

You have sworn an Oath.

The Oath of the Quest Survivor.

“That’s settled. Next problem. What are we going to do about that army out there?” Hogg asked the assembled Heroes.

“We’ve successfully disengaged,” said Lumina. “But was that the right choice? Someone should be keeping tabs on this force.”

“What are they?” asked Brin. “Where did the army even come from?”

“Well, that’s what I’d like to know, but I have a guess,” said Lumina. “Do you remember my explanation of the history of Nhamanshal, the so-called Burrow Kingdom?”

“Of course!” said Galan, too quickly.

“Naturally,” Lurilan said smoothly.

“Yep,” said Hogg.

“I hung on every word,” said Brin.

“Well…?” said Lumina, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

“You can’t be serious,” said Hogg, who maybe actually had been listening. More likely he had already known all about Nhamanshal, whatever that was. “If that was the case, we’d be dead.”

“What do you mean?” asked Brin.

“The lady [Mage] is implying that a [Necromancer] has discovered a Burrow City. To summarize Lumina’s story, which you were all clearly listening to, the people of Nhamanshal didn’t burn their dead. They entombed them in huge underground catacombs, which they blessed against necromancy. But if a [Necromancer] can disable those protections, they have a near-infinite source of corpses for their art. Some of these cities numbered in the millions, and lasted for hundreds of years before the cataclysm.”

“Sancta Solia!” Galan swore.

“Indeed,” said Lumina. “A single [Necromancer] finding a Burrow City has overturned entire nations. We don’t know for sure if these corpses are from a Burrow City, of course. The numbers we’ve seen so far don’t justify it. But that could simply mean we’ve caught it in time. [Necromancers] take time to do their work. They can’t simply animate an entire army at once.”

Galan put a hand to his chin, pacing in place. “Then our duty is clear. I must depart for my Order. Also, the King of Frenaria must be informed. We should… A thought occurs to me. Hogg, how fast can your mirror images travel? What’s the range?”

“As fast as I can run. The range is far. Real far,” said Hogg.

“Could you send them as messengers? I can give you the codes so that my Order will trust your words,” said Galan.

“That is a good idea,” said Hogg. “Really thinking like an [Illusionist].”

“I thank you, sir. Can you do it?” asked Galan.

“I sent out five mirror images the day we found Travin’s Bog covered in undead, just in case. One will be at your Order by tomorrow. I’ve already got someone in Blackcliff. And Lumina, I get to Steamshield to inform your master within the week,” said Hogg.

“I’d appreciate that,” said Lumina.

“You—ha! You know, I sometimes resent when I must join arms with [Rogues] or the like. I cannot abide trickery of any sort,” said Galan. “But in this case, I find it somewhat gratifying.”

Lurilan licked his lips. “Then… does that mean we mustn’t flee after all? I can surely track the army, and with Hogg’s illusions, it may be that we can find the [Necromancer].”

“That would be agreeable to me,” said Lumina. “Though it would help if we were all… much more powerful, shall we say?”

Suddenly all four Heroes were looking at Brin. “I’ll help however I can, but what can I do?”

“Have you seen any alerts recently regarding your, ahem, your Quest?” asked Lumina.

“No. None at all. Not since I got it,” said Brin.

“Odd. Hogg, you said that you and he were out of danger,” said Lumina.

“Well, sure, but out of danger isn’t the same as ‘rescued,’ now is it? If the Quest completed now, I could just leave him here. He wouldn’t last two hours in the wild on his own,” said Hogg.

“Surely you would never,” said Galan.

“That’s right, but does he know that? What’s our plan for this kid, anyway? Has anyone thought about that?”

“You must come live with me, in Steamshield,” said Lumina. “I know my master wouldn’t hesitate to take you in.”

“Would he not?” asked Galan. “The tower is for [Mages]. He could perhaps work as a servant, but he could never live with you. And Steamshield is no place for a child. Follow me to my Order, Brin. I will look after you.”

“Well, that would introduce the same problem! He could never be a squire, not until you knew he had a [Warrior] Class, if he even gets it. You’d have him mucking stables!” objected Lumina.

“I’d offer you a place in Gilly, but it’s the same problem. A hunter’s lodge isn’t a place for a child,” said Lurilan.

Brin noticed that no one asked his opinion. Not that he had an opinion. He didn’t know enough about the world to begin to form one, but it still seemed like the only way.

“Aren’t you all forgetting something? None of you are going home, not for months at least. What would you do with him in the meantime? Nah, I’m the only one who can be in two places at once. I’ll take him to my home. Hammon’s Bog. It is a good place for children. Would you like that, Brin?”

“I guess so,” said Brin. Being left with Hogg wasn’t his first choice. After all, it was only yesterday that the man had been inches away from killing him. But if this was the best way to help the Heroes, then he would do it.

“I swear on my Class and levels to deliver you safely to Hammon’s Bog and make sure you find a place to live there. So help me, Nedramus,” said Hogg.

Brin pulled up his status screen, but there was no change to the Quest and no real way to accept it. “Sorry, there’s still no change to the Quest. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do here.”

“Not good enough, I guess,” said Hogg. “Alright, fine. “Brin isu Yambul, I officially adopt you as my son. I swear on my Class and levels to take you in and fulfill all duties and obligations that parenthood entails, including your upkeep, safety, and education. I swear this… in perpetuity, until such a time as my aid is no longer desired or needed. So help me, Nedramus.”

Hogg’s voice got a little rough at the end, but Brin didn’t mistake it for a sudden bout of tender feelings. More likely the old rogue couldn’t believe what he was saying. He must’ve really wanted the Quest rewards.

Brin was extremely curious as to what those were.

But not curious enough to forget to be angry. He could’ve at least asked. “What? I don’t want to be your son! You’re awful.”

Hogg laughed.

“No one gets to choose his parents,” said Lurilan, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

“Don’t expect me to call you Daddy,” said Brin.

“Please… don’t. Please call me Hogg.”

Alert!

The conditions for the quest Survivor of Travin’s Bog have been completed.

Mark, you don’t have to accept yet if you don’t want to. They were all supposed to rescue you, not go off on their own. Still, I’m giving you the choice. If you reject it now, you can still accept it later.

Accept?

[Yes] [No]

It was interesting to see a custom message for him again. He had been wondering if whoever was doing that had forgotten about him.

Lumina caught him reading. “What do you see?”

“I can accept the Quest now or wait until I’m more satisfied,” said Brin.

Lumina took a steadying breath, but said nothing. Lurilan didn’t even look at him; he turned away, biting his cheek.

Hogg started to turn bright red, but Galan put a hand on his shoulder. The [Knight] smiled, but clenched his jaw underneath. “It is your choice, of course. We did not take our obligation to you as seriously as we could have. There will be no hard feelings if⁠—”

“Don’t be stupid. You think I would want you guys to focus on me when an apocalyptic army is literally springing out of the ground all around us? Save the world, Galan. I’m completing this Quest.”

His motives weren’t completely selfless. Sure, maybe he could’ve wrung more promises out of them, had them sign property over to him, made them make promises to never harm him, or even oaths to obey him. But he wanted their goodwill, and mostly, he wanted to know for sure if it was real. They’d been kind to him so far, but they had a reason to. He wanted to know if they would treat him the same, even after there was nothing more he could do for them.

Alert!

Quest Accepted: Survivor of Travin’s Bog

Please select the Quest reward from the following options

1. Each of the party members receives their weight in precious gemstones

2. Each of the party members receives the option to evolve one Class Skill of their choice

3. Each of the party members receives a permanent 30% increase to all attributes.

As the Quest beneficiary, you will not receive any rewards.

“Hmm… You guys probably want the gemstones, right?” he said.

The Heroes all lunged towards him. Not in a menacing way, more like the way you act when a toddler picks up the vase containing your mother’s ashes.

“Just kidding,” said Brin. “Which one would you like?”

Galan tried to smile, but it came off a little manic, what with the throbbing vein on his forehead. “The evolved Class Skill, if you please.”

Brin was surprised that they didn’t choose the 30% increase, but they clearly knew what they wanted. He selected option 2.

The notifications disappeared, and nothing else really happened. The only sign that anything had changed at all was the look of absolute rapture on each of the Heroes’ faces. Lumina cackled. Cranky Hogg looked like he was witnessing the birth of his firstborn child. Even reserved Lurilan had a hand to his mouth, tears in his eyes.

They all had their eyes glued to their status screens, all of which were invisible to Brin, but Hogg had the presence of mind to say, “We all have somewhere to be. Let’s start walking.”

They started walking through the forest. Brin and Hogg’s real bodies walked side by side with the other Heroes’ mirror images.

“Are you lining up our mirror images even while we’re walking?” asked Brin. “That’s really cool.”

“Uh-huh,” said Hogg.

“Hey, come on, don’t leave me out. Why is the evolved Skill so great? I thought for sure the thirty percent increase would be better.”

“There are lots of ways to increase your attributes,” Lumina said distractedly, her eyes still reading. “The evolved Skill, on the other hand, is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Every Class has one or two basic Skills that everything else is built on. Improving it won’t only make you thirty percent stronger. It could be more like… ten times stronger. More.”

“What Skill did you improve?” asked Brin.

Lumina tore her eyes away from her status long enough to give him an impish smile. “I don’t mind you asking, I encouraged it after all, but no. I’m not going to tell you that.”

“It’s [Channel the Elements]. I’d bet my left eye,” said Hogg. “I don’t know what it turns into, though.”

Lumina glared at Hogg, which meant he was probably right.

The Heroes didn’t pick the conversation up again, and Brin left them to it. This was a huge event for them, the culmination of a lifetime of effort. He didn’t need to be the bratty kid and interrupt them.

He was just happy that they weren’t treating him any differently. Lumina had paused to answer his questions, even though she clearly wanted to think about her new Skill. They weren’t going to announce that Oaths were an elaborate trick and abandon him in the forest. He had known they wouldn’t, but still, it was nice to know.

He waited, and he walked. The forest was loud. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but the birds sang an absolute chorus in the trees. There were buzzing insects and even little ferret-like creatures with bushy tails scrambling around on the trees. This forest was alive in ways the other places he’d seen hadn’t been. Or maybe all the wildlife had been intimidated by the undead. This was normal, and the spooky silent forests were unusual.

After a half hour or so, the Heroes’ eyes were beginning to return to the world around them, so he asked his next question. “About the Oath. Hogg said something about how bad things happen to people who mess around with children and the System. Does the System punish people who try to manipulate it?”

“Oh, heavens no. Bad things happen to those people because I make them happen,” said Galan.

“Oh,” said Brin.

“It’s like this,” said Hogg. “There’s a town I used to go through once and again. It had a funny name, Dugout. A funny name for a funny people. The fields never seemed to grow as well as they should. Their clothes were always just a bit ratty and tattered. Nothing was really well made, nothing ever worked as well as it should. They were lazy for being such a low level, or so I thought. But they didn’t seem to mind, so why was it any business of mine? Dugout was within spitting distance of the border with Prinnash, and despite the fact that the fort city of Manabita is between them and Prinnash, this little town was obsessed with the idea that Prinnash was going to invade. That’s not a crime—people get paranoid sometimes. It happens. Well, that was all well and good until someone with a high enough [Inspect] came through and noticed something. Their Classes were weird. Anyone under forty years of age had a rare [Class]. Most were hidden Classes, and they were things like [Broken Doll], [Blood Harvester], [Pet], and [Scab Eater]. Now, think about that for a second. How do you get a Class like that? More specifically, what do you think was done to them as children, for them to be offered Classes like that? The Order of the Long Sleep wasn’t called, but only because the Order of the Luminous Serpent was closer. They called an inquisition, and before the week was out, half of the village’s adults were burning at the st⁠—”

“Ahem!” Lumina cut in, glaring at Hogg. “Perhaps, given the mixed company, we should avoid stories that end with people—that end like that? Let us say instead, that the System rewards some things and punishes other things. When building a society we must take that into account, but we mustn’t follow it blindly. Sometimes, something is just wrong, regardless of how the Game of Gods decides to reward it. Even from the viewpoint of pure rationality, a people who put their children in danger in order to game the System is a desperate culture. A failing culture. These things have been tried. They don’t work.”

The Frenarian language being what it was, the conversation took longer than it would have in English, and the sky started to darken as they talked.

It was a good opportunity for Brin to hear what was acceptable and what was taboo in this society. People tended to absorb more of the morality of their culture than they thought they did. They’d say, “Some things are just wrong,” fully unaware that most of the world didn’t have a problem with things like smoking indoors or wearing white after Labor Day. But torturing kids? Yeah, that was just wrong, no matter what planet you were on.

They took a break to set up camp, which was an odd experience. Hogg set up a lean-to for himself and Brin, which was basically a tarp above for shelter in case of rain, and put down some bedrolls. The other Heroes were probably on similar tasks, but Hogg didn’t bother to create mirror images of the things they were working with, so it appeared as if they were miming the tasks of setting up camp with empty air.

Both camps set up a campfire, and they all circled around it, despite the fact that it wasn’t the same campfire. They ate supper, jerky and bread from Travin’s Bog.

Eventually Hogg clapped Brin on the shoulder and said, “Alright, say goodbye to the others. I’m not going to keep these mirror images up forever, and they need to focus tomorrow regardless. Best if you split ways with them here.”

“Already?” asked Brin.

“No,” said Lumina. “Not like this. I don’t feel like I’ve done enough. Only Hogg swore an Oath, but we all benefited. It isn’t right. Brin isu Yambul, terrible name by the way, you are not a mistake. Brin isu Yambul, I also adopt you as my son, should your current guardian agree, and on my Class and levels I swear to fulfill all duties and obligations… that I can.

“My current state as an apprentice doesn’t give me much freedom in that regard, unfortunately, but if you get the [Mage] Class, come to the tower. They will be forced by law to take you in, regardless of how you do on the entrance exam. I know it’s not much, but it’s what I can do. Oh, you’ll also inherit my possessions, should I perish. They are not inconsiderable.”

“I’ll allow it,” said Hogg.

“Then that’s that,” said Lumina.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” said Brin. “Thank you.”

Lumina walked to him and leaned down, so close it was almost like she was about to kiss him. Of course, she couldn’t, it was just a mirror image. His face didn’t know that, and he could feel it growing red. He was wrong before; he was definitely going through puberty.

This wasn’t weird or anything, was it? She was only technically his mother.

“Come visit me no matter what Class you receive. Know that I will be very eager to see you again, in less dire circumstances.”

Lurilan said to Galan, “Are we to make similar offers? Four parents strike me as two too many.”

Galan shrugged. “My vows prevent me from adopting a child in any case. But Brin, should you receive the [Warrior] Class, come to my Order. I will see to it that my Order accepts you as a squire.”

Lurilan said, “Come to Gilly when you can. I will teach you to hunt, regardless of your Class.”

“Thanks. Thanks, everyone. I…” Brin wanted to say more, but couldn’t due to the sudden lump in his throat. What was this? He’d never really been an emotional person before, so he didn’t know how to handle it.

Parting with the Heroes shouldn’t be this hard. He’d only known them a short time. But maybe when four legendary Heroes appear out of thin air to save your life, you grow attached quicker than usual.

Despite him not being able to speak, the Heroes seemed to understand anyway. Galan saluted him with a fist to his heart, while Lurilan and Lumina waved. Then they were gone.

The world seemed a lot darker with them gone. The campfire seemed empty and mundane, now that he wasn’t sharing it with four legendary Heroes. Hogg seemed to pick up on his mood and didn’t say a thing as Brin walked over to his sleeping roll and immediately fell asleep.