Metem: A LitRPG Progression Fantasy

The small auditorium was packed by the time Kopius emerged from the backroom. Waiters were busy clearing tables while the guests mingled among themselves in various stages of food comas. Some were standing, engaged in animated conversations while others sat with a quiet contentness that comes after a hearty meal. There was a buzz about the room that Kopius was unfamiliar with. Before he slipped off the stage he scanned the crowd for a familiar face.

The backstage experiment he had just attempted left him asking questions he had no way of answering but a certain lady with a jewel embedded in her forehead should. When he spotted Yama by the reflective nature of her adornment he slipped off the stage in her direction. Before he could navigate through the crowd to her location someone's iron grip latched to his forearm, stopping him mid stride.

"Are we strangers already?" The voice asked in a pleasant southern drawl.

"Salem," Kopius sputtered in surprise.

"A good warrior can focus on more than more thing at a time you know," she said with a hint of instruction. "One eye on your surroundings, the other on your target."

"Obviously I have more to work on," Kopius replied with a nervous laugh. He took a moment to collect himself while looking the women over with a quick glance. "I barely noticed you without your armor on."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Salem teased.

"Take it however you want," Kopius joked. "I won't sweeten my words to–"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Salem laughed, cutting him off. "You can say it; I look fabulous."

Kopius chuckled, spread his arms as if to admit he had been caught and replied, "You look fabulous."

"That wasn't so hard was it?" Salem asked as a final, playful dig. "Now, before you figure out I am more woman then you can handle, where were you rushing off to?"

"I–was… ," Kopius faltered over her comment. He gestured over his shoulder with both thumbs before collecting himself to continue. "I was going to ask Yama some questions about a magic spell."

"Don't you mean Yamabu?"

"No," Kopius answered defensively, "She gave me permission."

"Cici must be rubbing off on you then," Salem said in a way that may have been a backhanded compliment. "Make sure you keep up with your practices per my instruction."

Salem gave him a nod and a smile as she turned to take her leave but a thought came to his mind. It was his turn to grasp a forearm.

"Actually, you know what," Kopius said as he remembered something. "Maybe you can help me identify something. Do you know anything about imbuing weapons with magic?"

"I know a bit about it," Salem responded. "What do you want to know?"

"Somebody shot this at me," Kopius answered as he reached into a pocket, willed the arrow from his inventory, pulled it out and handed it over. "I had to dig it out of a tree. It left a pink colored residue that Cici said comes from being imbued."

"Looks like a crossbow bolt," Salem remarked as she inspected the item. "Made from dark steel or possibly a void metal… maybe an alloy of the two called entropite. That's nasty stuff. A blacksmith would have a better answer. As for the pink residue, I believe that is a rather rare form of magic called Manic or Mania. You'll want to confirm with Yama about that."

"Okay," Kopius nodded, placing the time back in his inventory. "Thanks anyways."

"I usually have more of an answer when it comes to weapons," Salem admitted. "If it's anything like I just suggested, you're lucky it didn't hit you."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Void metal and dark steel can rot you from the inside if not treated quickly," Salem answered. "Entropite, well, that would turn you into ashes. I've never seen it in action but the rumors are it strips the body of all moisture in a blink and reduces the rest to dust on the wind."

"That's quite the visual," Kopius responded with a gulp, wondering if Thanos had a hand in this world.

"Well then, if that is all I am going to take my seat."

"That's about all I can handle at the moment," Kopius said and they both laughed.

Salem took her leave towards the stage while Kopius dove back into the crowd on his way to Yama. He had to squeeze through more than one conversation, while bumping his way past others. Kopius received a variety of looks as he made his way through, much the same as navigating a crowded bar; some people smiled, some people jeered.

Yama sat towards the back of the room unsurprised by Kopius when he arrived. She smiled and offered a seat next to as though she had been expecting him. She too looked different then when they had first met. Her ensemble leaned in a more of a casual direction, it looked more like a fancy track suit rather than princess attire.

"I see Salem didn't scare you off," Yama said as Kopius sat.

"She tried," he chuckled. "She is trying to figure out if I am resilient or stubborn."

"We all are dear," the witch replied deadpan, before cracking a razor thin smirk. "What can I do for you Kopius?"

"I have a question or two regarding that spell you helped me with, but first I wanted to confirm something. Is pink residue left over from an imbued weapon Manic magic… or Mania?"

"Pink you say," Yama replied with a raised eyebrow. "It is officially called Mania but many people refer to it as Manic; it's very rare. I only know a handful of casters that are capable of wielding it. I am surprised you're even aware of its existence."

"I kind of stumbled across it," Kopius admitted.

"You upset someone you mean to say?"

"I wouldn't say upset, per se, more like interrupted them maybe."

"Manic wielders like to keep their magic a secret. They're not known to leave witnesses."

"But," he paused to form his thought, "if that's the case, how do you know a few?"

"We all have our talents Kopius. I will admit there is at least one of them that would prefer me dead for my knowledge, but he's a coward with a limp mana supply. Manic's need a deep well to be dangerous. The others sought my guidance; what's your excuse?"

"Luck mostly. I mean, they did shoot a crossbow bolt at me, so there's that," Kopius admitted with a shrug.

"A crossbow bolt?" This time both of her eyebrows rose in curiosity. "What did your assailant look like?"

Stolen story; please report.

"I have no idea," Kopius answered raising both hands, "I was so far away from them I was surprised they even heard me yell, let alone see me."

"You–yelled at them?"

"I can be impulsive at times," Kopius admitted in a rare moment of self-awareness. "Cici called me impetuous once."

"I bet he did," Yama laughed. "Yet none of this explains how you came to find the pink residue of Mania."

"I saw the residue after I dug this thing out of the tree I was hiding behind," Kopius answered. He produced the bolt from his ring and handed it over to the witch. "Damn near went through the whole trunk before it stopped."

Yama took the item in her hand to inspect. She ran her hands across the bolt, flipping the thing over a few times to catch every angle. After her initial examination she used the gem in her forehead to investigate it further. She chuckled to herself a few times as the laser beam ran back and forth over the object as though she had discovered a hidden meaning. The witch ended her assessment by smelling the bolt as if it were a fine hand crafted cigar.

That's fucking weird, Kopius thought as she handed the item back to him.

"Ona Buge," Yama said in a hushed tone, a smile forming behind pursed lips.

"What's an Ona Buge," Kopius asked. "Sounds like a sickness."

"Who she is," Yama corrected. "Ona Buge is the owner of this bolt, wielder of that magic. As for what she is, you'll have to find out on your own."

"What do you mean, what she is?" Kopius asked, annoyed by Yama's coyness, "Is she like some evil demon lady cause we are already dealing with one of those in a few days."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she had a little demon in her blood," Yama replied, still wearing that smirk that said she knew she wasn't giving him a straight answer. "I would say she is a wildflower in a field of roses. She is trouble to a man like yourself."

"Trouble how?" Kopius probed. "Is it even safe for me to know she has that magic? Will she know that I know?"

"My dear boy," Yama said with a hearty laugh, "she will only know if you tell her. It's best you keep that to yourself–though–I'd love to see her reaction if you mentioned it."

She didn't speak the words as if they were a warning, more a statement of fact. Yama looked at Kopius as a mother might right before her son was about to experience his first heart break. The witch reached out and patted him on the cheek, her smile shifting from an inside joke to an endearing gesture.

"Ask Cici," Yama eventually said, "he has heard of her. Now, what are your other questions?"

Kopius let the matter drop, figuring the likelihood of running into this Ona Buge was the least of his worries. He moved on to explain the experiment he fumbled in the back room. She listened attentively, trying her best not to laugh at his outcome. The witch appreciated his willingness to experiment but noted that if he wanted a constant stream of electricity he needed to use repetitive casting, not the single word method.

"I like your creativity, I've never heard it utilized like that," Yama complimented. "Most uses are applied to metal armor or hand rails. I've even heard it used in water but that runs a risk on the caster."

"I've shocked myself enough times on wires to know it would work," Kopius replied. "Thanks for pointing out my issue."

"No problem at all," Yama said kindly. "You'll have to practice of course, but you should be able to get a constant stream without shocking yourself. It's all how you say it."

"That's good to kn–," Kopius cut himself off as an idea formed in his mind.

He let the thought fester for a moment, unwilling to get excited about its possibility. It wasn't in his nature to think his ideas had merit. At least not until he had vetted them–unless he was being rash; so his nature was more like 50/50.

To his surprise the 'what-ifs" in his mind took a positive direction, instead of mulling over all the ways it couldn't work he considered the alternatives. With a content expert sitting right next to him, Kopius ran the scenario by Yama. She nodded her understanding, though the concept of the use was foreign to her the practical application of the idea should work. Kopius took her answer as it would work before sitting back in his chair with a smugness often associated with over-confidence.

Kopius spent what little time he had before the performances started to expand on his idea. He had to resist the urge to pull the spool of grafeen out of his inventory. Practising would have to take a back seat to safety, at least for the time being. He didn't want to disturb the general good will and excitement with the auditorium by setting the place on fire. Nor did he want to ricochet the spool off someone's head. He grumbled internally while culling his impulsive behavior to test his new idea.

He didn't have to battle himself for too long as the inside lights dimmed and the focus of the crowd fell upon the stage. A spotlight hit the center of the curtains as they rose up into the rafters. What remained of the idle chatter stopped, leaving only the sound of an instrument being tuned behind the drapery.

With no other fanfare, the curtains were open and the music began. The first to play was a solo act armed with a Metem equivalent of a violin. The artist played her piece with precision and grace, leaving the crowd excited for more. Next to perform was a duo with guitars similar to Cici's. They played a jaunty melody with exuberant tones and bubbly vocals. If the crowd were to have ever broken out into a square dance, this would have been the time.

The duo was followed by another pair that wielded a harp on one side and the other had a bass almost as tall as the musician. They played a more classical tune to the ears of Kopius. The harps' shimmering, distinct ringing sounds played well in contrast to the bass and its rumbling, thumping vibrations. It moved the crowd for long minutes, seeming to last an eternity before coming to an end much too soon. It drew a standing ovation, the artist boxing as the curtain closed.

Lastly, before Cici took stage, was a small female child dwarfed by the piano she sat beside. She didn't even bother to address the audience, instead slamming both hands down on the instrument as though she was demanding silence. If anyone had been sleepy or dead, the sudden sound would have brought them back to life.

The young girl's hands danced across the keys, tiptoeing for slower notes before thundering across them again like a raging storm. Her music laughed and cried; raged and delighted. The sounds consumed every vacant space, occupied every empty heart. By the time it ended, the entire auditorium had long been on their feet, clapping until it hurt.

That's going to be hard to top, Kopius thought as he wiped at his glossed over eyes.

The mood was cemented as the curtains were once again lifted. At center stage leaning against a waist high bar stool, sporting an artistically embossed, sleeveless leather vest was the man they all came to see. His dark skin glistened as though it had been recently lotioned, the spotlight gleaming off his bald scalp as though it were just shaved. Cici had a presence the performer before him lacked. The bard looked three times the size he normally did, while appearing ten times as fragile. His face looked despondent, mournful like someone struggling to keep their composure as he gazed upon the crowd.

Cici held this way for a long moment before raising his instrument. He plucked a single chord and the vibrating metal flowed across the crowd like a soft breeze. Heads turned in the crowd, whispers dared to break the silence as people got their first taste of a new sound. Cici let the note hang in the air long enough for people to want more. When he fingered another string the place fell silent as death, anticipation so thick it was palpable.

With the perfect timing only a skilled bard could execute, the ballad of Cici Beo began. Astral's Canon started in a very slow, very methodical fashion with each note allowed its own time to shine. Even at the beginning, the song was a grossly enhanced version of what Kopius had heard over the course of their time together. Each consecutive tone felt like it tugged at any given memory that longed to be remembered. Goosebumps formed on the air elemental's exposed skin as Cici picked up the pace.

As the song progressed the notes gathered together in a harmonious synergy, swarming through the thoughts and imagination of all in attendance. Each person was guided through their own nostalgic theatre of emotions. They faced fears, overcame losses, embraced change and found beauty within themselves they had long forgotten or never knew. Time stood still as the music engulfed the entire audience.

If the piano had cried, Luna weeped; laughter turned to elation, rage evolved into passion, delight graduated to ascendance. Not a single soul could withstand the onslaught of wistful emotions, nor did they try. Collectively they endured. Individually they embraced their strengths, admired their weaknesses and forgave the harsh critiques they had all too often weighted upon themselves.

When the performance ended, when the last note disappeared, not even a breath could be heard. The silence wasn't gripping or heavy, it didn't feel lonely or desolate. It was as though they had all been hypnotized, not realizing the dream had ended. No one stood, no one clapped.

"Holy shit, man," Kopius whispered in a long exhale, fighting back a well of tears. He didn't know if should cry, or cheer or run out of the auditorium never to look back. His mind circled around confusion and clarity, his feelings demanding a direction.

Someone in the crowd eventually broke the silence with a mournful wail. Then the sound of sobbing erupted to Kopius' right and then to his left. The emotions snowballed as the crowd experienced a mass therapeutic session. People hugged and consoled while getting the same attention in return. At some point Kopius let his own tears flow before he embraced the stranger next to him.