System Lost: My Own Best Friend

It's kinda weird being naked. Not that I'm a never-nude or anything, and Allie certainly isn't shy, it's just odd. Like on one hand, it's not something I'm overly concerned with, but on the other it's not something I usually am. I can't really confirm it with all the gaps in my memory, but I bet before whatever happened to bring us here I was only ever in front when clothed. It's weird to think that there used to be entire sets of the human experience that I was just...missing. Actually, no—that thought isn't new, and I think it's upsetting me.

Whatever, that was then and this is now. I've got bigger things to worry about—like magic. My two new skills are pretty obviously designed to work together.

[Skill - Pyropathy: You can sense flames. Dramatically increased Awareness when focusing on this sense.]

[Skill - Pyrokinesis: You can control flames. Your Power is added to Ego when manipulating fire with this skill.]

"Sense flames" actually does a whole lot more work than you might think. It's what I spent most of my time exploring while Allison was taking her precious bath. Since it's hard to internalize things when not fronting for some reason—probably because our brain is focused on other things—I take a moment to summarize my findings.

The obvious use is to just sense the location of nearby flames, like the candles in my pockets or the bundle I'm sitting on. I can confirm that there are none in the lamps here, which sort of raises the question—what is a flame, exactly?

Obviously, I already have a familiar definition, but I'm not sure it still applies here. Unfortunately, trying to make Engie clarify it for me came up blank.

[Flame]

The exothermic output of chemical combustion.

Not exactly helpful, and clearly not what the skill is looking for. Unless the candles are some sort of exception, they aren't actually combusting as far as I can tell. It also doesn't really make sense to "control" flames. A flame is just a bunch of hot gas, and the glowy part usually isn't even the gas, it's incandescent soot. The gas itself is usually a pale blue if it's even visible at all, but it depends on what's actually being burned.

The point is, fire is actually a combination of a lot of pretty complex things, none of which actually seem to be present within these so-called "candles." Oh well. No use overthinking it.

"What am I—Violet?" I scoff, shaking my head.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she protests.

"Nothing, don't worry about it."

I ignore her indignation and return to my musing, carefully drawing out a thin filament of "flame" from the candle in my hand and watching it dance in front of me. Not just watching, either, but feeling.

That's the part that the skill description wasn't very clear on. I don't just detect the flame, I sense it. As if it's part of my own body—something between physical touch and proprioception. It feels totally natural, and despite my best efforts I can't even begin to deconstruct the way [Pyropathy] connects to my—ah, fuck it, I'm gonna call it a soul. The part of me that extends into the magical dimension. It links up so seamlessly, interfacing with my nervous system as if it's always been there.

If I'm being honest, I think it's more than a little creepy. If Engie can just casually plug an entirely new sense along with the intuitive understanding of how to use it directly into my brain, what else can it do? Thankfully, [Pyrokinesis] is a little easier to understand.

Not much easier. It's infinitely more elegant than what I pulled in my first misguided attempts at homemade magic. Firstly, the skill is definitely lying, because what I've got in front of me is not "flame" but "fire." The key difference here is that flames are just the hot gas produced by fire, which is the entire process of combustion.

How, then, am I manipulating "the entire process of combustion"? That's not a thing that you can just pick up and move around. It's got no form—no substance. The answer is obvious, it was given substance by the skill.

Fire needs fuel, but I can just hold this fire in the air indefinitely. It's still hot, as my earlier embarrassment demonstrated, but it's not burning anymore. It's just sitting there—the entire concept of combustion given form and held in place by the skill until I let it go.

Without any fuel or my skill to sustain it, the dancing flame winks out, whatever residual form it had dispersing harmlessly into the air.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Allison asks curiously.

"Stuff," I answer with a shrug. "Learning. I know you were expecting me to be playing with fire, but this is probably going to involve what looks like a bunch of boring meditation from your perspective."

"Oh...uh, well have fun with that I guess," she replies politely. "Wake me up when you're done?"

With that, her faint presence over my shoulder disappears.

"Huh, she's getting better at that," I observe. "Though I have no idea how she expects me to actually wake her up."

Violet doesn't answer, but she's still here. She's a lot more patient than Allie, and probably as curious as I am about how weird magic is. Where was I, anyway?

Oh right, so where I was just trying to brute force moving energy from one place to another, causing spontaneous combustion, Engie's method is much more elegant and efficient, but also insanely complex. It's taking the idea of fire, giving it physical form, then translating that form through space before breaking it back down on the magical level. I feel like I'm about a million years from figuring out how it does all that, but knowing what I'm looking at is a huge first step.

Though that still leaves me wondering how the candle flames can be—wait!

"That's it!" I cry. "I've figured it out!"

"Figured what out?" Violet asks, trying to hide her excitement.

"The candles!" I shout, jumping to my feet. "I know what they are! They're magic!"

Violet's disappointment is palpable as she sighs. "We already knew that, Maggie. It's sort of obvious."

"Not magical, you fucking dumbass," I correct her. "They're magic! Engie can convert magic to matter! They're not candles, they're the idea of candles, physically manifested and held in a sort of stasis, like the flames under my control."

By way of demonstration, I pull some more fire out of a candle and form it into a rough, smoldering ball.

"That's why they don't burn, and it probably explains their weird physical properties, too!"

"How does that explain the way they vaporize water or only burn dead flesh?" she asks skeptically. "And for that matter, why are they just warm instead of hot or cold?"

"It's probably not a perfect conversion, so some of the energy leaks out as thermal radiation," I guess, waving off her questions. "I have no idea about the rest. Maybe the magic of living things protects them from the leak?"

"As always, you're building this entire theory up on a lot of assumptions."

"Maybe, but it fits, doesn't it?"

I'd bet anything that these candles are the product of a skill or something similar. I should thank whoever left them there—I probably wouldn't have figured this out without them. Allie's gamble with [Candle Enthusiast] is seriously paying off.

"Now if I can just—"

I'm interrupted by a faint unidentifiable sound echoing through the caves. I shut up immediately and snatch the knife from the ground by my feet. The little ball of fire extinguishes itself, but even with some of them covered by hanging clothes, the cavern is still pretty well illuminated. I close my eyes and listen carefully.

It's hard to make out. A soft shuffling sound—or several of them? Footsteps maybe. Bah, I'm no good at this!

"Vi!" I whisper. "Why am I still in front?"

"You've got better Awareness," she answers. "I'll switch if it comes down to a fight."

Damn it! She has a point, though. The sound is approaching slowly, but it's hard to tell which direction it's coming from with the sound echoing through the caves. Something makes a low, guttural noise before being cut off by a harsh bark. They sound hushed, and the first goes silent after being interrupted.

A pit forms in my stomach. That was communication. Whatever is coming our way, there's more than one and they're intelligent.

I extend a hand to Nipper, who seems to read my intent and slithers his way up my arm to rest on my shoulder. He's gotten bigger again, and his movements are more serpentine and purposeful than they used to be.

"You're really going to let it crawl around on your naked body?" Violet groans.

"Don't make it weird, Vi," I whisper. She's not beating the bugfucker allegations. "And what happened to 'our' body?"

"S-sorry," she mutters. "I'm just not very comfortable with nudity."

Ugh, she would. Found the never-nude, I guess.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I don't answer her, since the footsteps—and they are definitely footsteps now—are getting closer. I duck into the alcove, squeezing my way between the wall and the statue. There's not much room here, but it's the only place I can realistically hide without knowing which way they're coming from.

Keeping the cloak drawn around me, I peek around the corner, searching for any sign of them as the footsteps grow steadily louder. I'm pretty sure now that they're coming from the lit passage, which I unfortunately do not have a very good view of from my vantage point.

The footsteps come to an abrupt halt, and another voice echoes loudly through the cavern.

"Te'ehu'uda!"

It's deep and guttural, like the bleating of a goat, but with an unmistakable intentionality to it. I hold my breath, trying not to make any noise and making myself as small as possible as I hide behind the corner. After a moment, the same voice repeats the call, louder and more insistent.

"Te'ehu'uda!"

Shit. The only reason for them to be yelling is if they know I'm here. I mean, duh, the pack is still there, not to mention all our clothes. I chance another peek, and get rewarded by the sight of four creatures standing just past the lit entrance to the chamber, each of them scanning the room.

They are...well, they look like goat people. They have generally humanoid forms, but with digitigrade legs—or is that unguligrade? I don't actually know the difference, but they've got a raised heel that acts as a second backwards knee and hooves instead of feet. The rest of their bodies are more familiar, with upper bodies ranging from slim but athletic to one that's never missed a gym day in his life. Their faces aren't quite all the way goat—their eyes are further forward like a human's, and what would have been a muzzle is sort of squished down into a long but much flatter nose and jaw.

Grimly, I realize that their skull structure matches the "not quite a cow" skull from the skeleton that helpfully provided our knife and cloak.

For clothes, they seem to favor skirts, sashes, and their own—much nicer—versions of the cloak I'm wearing. It's all very loose and flowing, probably to avoid interfering with all the fur covering their bodies. It's hard to tell sexes from here, but at least one of them has a clearly pronounced chest that probably means female. She—I'm totally assuming her gender—also has smaller horns than the rest.

The horns themselves have a lot of variety. The big one in the back has curled horns like a ram, while the smaller one next to him has horns that sweep straight back along his skull. In front of those two, medium-male has a more horizontal curve, encircling his head like a crown. Finally, the one female has thinner horns, gently spiralling upward like an antelope.

Oh, also? They're armed. As if there was any doubt left from the speech, clothes, and organization, their weapons confirm that these are definitely people. The man in the front has a short spear—which seems odd for a cave—and a wooden buckler. The woman only seems to have a staff of some sort. I can't see what the big guy is carrying from here, but the smallest of the men is carrying what looks to be a thin metal tube in a wooden frame with a disturbingly familiar mechanism at the bottom.

"It's that a fucking gun?!" I whisper incredulously and, also, a little too loudly.

All four heads immediately swivel to my location even as I duck back behind the corner. It doesn't really matter if they saw me now. They know I'm here.

"Nice going, Maggie," Violet sighs.

Fuck! I'm seriously not cut out for this.

"That was some kind of old rifle," she continues, confirming what I really didn't want to believe. "Breechloaded, I think. I didn't see a fuse, so it's either got a more advanced striking mechanism or it's cartridge-based."

As helpful as this lesson on antique firearms is, it's really not what I need right now.

"Allie!" I whisper urgently. "This is your forte, isn't it? These are people. You're good with people!"

No response. Of all the fucking times for her to be asleep!

The goat people are whispering amongst themselves, and I can't make much of it out, not that it would be helpful if I did, but one word manages to stand out from the rest.

"...e'ebahu'u[Guardian]'la," one of them—the lead male I think—whispers.

"A'a," the female replies tersely, ending the whole conversation. She seems to be in charge.

[Guardian], though. I understood that. Magical hyperlinks aren't just words, they're ideas. Like the fire given substance or the frozen candles—it's a concept given form. I might be able to communicate!

First, though—

[Guardian]

Lesser agents of the World Engine, assigned to stand guard over [Convergence Points].

Which are...?

[Convergence Point]

Colloquially called 'dungeons.' Locations where latent space can be realized and integrated into the world. May contain dangerous anomalous objects, entities, and other phenomena.

Okay, not as useful as I was hoping. I'll need to unpack that later. For now, though...the goat people are getting pretty restless and I'd rather not start a fight.

I peek my head out to make sure there's no gun pointed my way. The four figures tense up at the sight of me, but no weapons are drawn or leveled at me just yet. Good enough. Fuck me, do I really have to do this naked?

With a heavy sigh, I surreptitiously deposit Nipper into a pocket—along with the knife, just in case—then step out with my hands up. I then immediately regret the gesture and wrap the cloak around myself blushing. Here lies Maggie—died from embarrassment after making first contact with an alien species by flashing them.

They take a collective step back—as if they are afraid of me for some reason—and the lead male starts to lower his spear before the woman holds up a hand to stop him, eyeing me suspiciously. God damnit even their body language is similar.

"U'uh'uda?!" she demands, and I now recognize her as the sharp bark and also the one who was calling out something similar before.

Yep, definitely the one in charge.

"I, uh, don't know your language," I hedge, which just earns me even more suspicious glares. "But let me try something..."

I take a second to collect my thoughts, putting together a message that will hopefully put them at ease.

"Maggie, are you sure you know what you're—"

"[My name is Maggie, and I'm lost. I'm not dangerous. Can you help me?]"

Two things happen immediately—the big guy collapses to the ground braying like a donkey, and the other two men instantly level their weapons at me.

"Fuck!" I hiss, realizing my mistake. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

"What is it?" Violet asks. "What did you just—"

"Don't look at that!" I shout, a little too loudly.

At the same time, the leader turns and kicks the big guy in the ribs.

"U'u[Message]po'ona'a! B'utu!" she derides him, then turns to point at me, speaking slowly and carefully enunciating each word—as if that's going to help me understand her any better. "U'u! [Message]! A'a!"

"I think she's telling you not to do that again," Violet helpfully supplies.

I kinda got that, but I don't want to freak these guys out by muttering to myself, so I don't reply. I know what I did wrong, though! I tried to put everything into the header of the [Message] instead of the body. As a result, the body was presumably packed with every single thing that Engie could provide about everything I said. Like early on, when Allie kept passing out from trying to look at [Unified Collective], the brain just can't handle that much info at once.

Shit, I even included my name—which probably shoved that entire infinite fractal pattern of a class into the [Message]! No wonder he went down.

I take a step back and hold up one hand, using the other to keep the cloak clasped in front of me.

"[Accident]," I say, trying to keep things as basic as I possibly can. "[Sorry]!"

All but the woman relax slightly at the first statement, but then tense up again at the second. Huh? What did I say wrong this time?

[Accident]

An unexpected or unintentional incident causing harm.

[Sorry]

An insincere apology.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" I shout indignantly. "I guess I can't lie that way."

"Why did you need to—look out!"

Violet's warning comes just in time to prevent me from being run through by the spearman as I shriek and duck to the side. With his shield up, he pivots with practiced ease, tracking my movements fluidly as he pulls back for another strike.

Holy shit he's fast! I try to scramble backwards away from him, but immediately realize that his spear is too fast for me to outrun. In a panic, I draw on the only tool I have and throw my hand forward, sending an entire candle's worth of flame towards him.

It does not come out as a stream, or a fireball, or even engulf him as I thought it might. Instead, what happens will haunt me for the rest of my life.

His head explodes.

His head. Explodes.

Blood, gore, and brain matter paint the walls, floor, ceiling, and me as his body collapses lifelessly to the ground. All I can do is watch in mute horror, bile rising in my throat as his blood pools at my feet. I'm as startled by what just happened as anyone.

Then I go deaf. A sharp crack echoing in my ears, followed by nothing but loud ringing and Violet screaming at me with an unusual clarity.

"Maggie, move!"

I stagger backwards, numbly trying to understand what's happening. The small man with the gun is shouting something, frantically pressing a round pellet into the back of his metal tube. Behind the firing mechanism, I recognize the faint orange glow of the same crystal as the lanterns. The large man is climbing to his feet, fury in his eyes as he glares in my direction. The woman is screaming—or braying? Throwing her staff aside and dropping to her knees next to the...body.

Ah. As my mind is processing all of that, I come to a simple realization. I'm not my body. I never have been. It's so much easier that way. My hand lifts to point at the man with the gun and fire erupts from my palms. Less this time, it was too much the first time. A mistake. His skin is bubbling now, and his screams are so much worse than anything I expected. He doesn't stop.

Nipper is thrashing in my pocket. I turn to see the big one barreling towards me. He's fast too. Everything is happening so fast. I hesitate. He's so big that even if I kill him, the sheer momentum will be enough to crush me like a bug. There are no good answers. I can't do this. I don't want to do this. Neither does she, but no matter how much we hate each other, she won't...

I'll never abandon her. I lunge to the side at the last moment, the rush of displaced air from the large goatman's fist so forceful that it steals the air from my lungs. He stops with unnatural speed and grace, instantly pivoting towards me for a brutal follow up blow aimed straight at my face. I drop down onto my back—a horrible position, but the only way to avoid the attack. He aborts mid-swing and rears back to finish me off, but not before I toss a certain worm creature into his face.

He shrieks in a surprisingly high pitched voice as Nipper tears into his face and neck, each bite accompanied by a spray of sticky webbing aimed at his eyes, nose, or mouth. The brute tries to claw at his face, but I take advantage of the distraction to sit up and cut at his inner thighs, going straight for the femoral arteries and opening huge gashes in his legs.

I roll out from under him as he collapses, jumping to my feet only to be met by the final assailant with an ornate matchlock pistol leveled at my head at point blank range, the fuse already lit. I reach out with my new senses and snatch the flame away. The hammer falls with a loud click as I lunge forward and sink my blade deep into her neck, then pull it out sideways.

We fall to the ground together in a tangle of thrashing limbs, and I catch her wrist, slamming it on the ground until she releases her grip on the gun. I knock it away, then sit up, straddling her chest and stab down into her heart one last time, holding it there until her head falls limply to the side.

I stagger to my feet and whirl around, searching for any other attackers, but there are none. The gunman still screams in agony, even as his thrashing slows, and the brute has collapsed on the floor, bleeding out while Nipper eats his face.

Injuries! We got shot? I pat myself down, but nothing is out of place. I've got a lot of blood and gore on me, but none of it is mine. He...I guess he missed? Or was it a warning shot? No, we'd just killed his companion, he was definitely shooting to kill.

I survey the scene once more, but it's really over. The adrenaline rush falls away, and I fall with it, collapsing to my hands and knees and shaking like a leaf.

[Level up!]

Firecaster is now level 1.

Savior is now level 1.

+2 Power (Magdalena).

+2 Awareness (Magdalena).

+2 Resilience.

+2 Ego.

Then I promptly empty the contents of my stomach onto the ground.