The Tears of Kas̆dael

Thankfully, this time he arrived right beside the fire, the burning flames pushing away the icy chill of the void. Unlike before, the goddess did not ignore him. Not a sound escaped her mouth, but with a slow, deliberate movement she stretched out her hand to him. The weight of her gaze pressed down upon him, and he felt exposed, as if her eerie blue eyes could pierce to the deepest levels of his soul. Jasper stood still for a few moments, working up the courage to do what he expected. At last, he stepped forward. The pressure emanating from her did not cease, and he struggled to walk forward as if the very air denied him entry. But he pressed on, placing one shaky step in front of another until he stood before her. With trembling hands, he reached out and grabbed her outstretched hand. As he made contact, he flinched, half expecting at any moment to feel the pain of his heart being ripped out. But no pain followed, and opening his eyes he finally saw his status.

Jasper Welles

Level up available: x10

Exp: 100/200

Health 100

Stamina 190

Essence 320

Heritage(s)

Greater Djinn

Class(es)

Acolyte of the Secret Flame

Titles

The Blood Runs True

Betrothed of Kas̆dael

Stats

Racial Traits

Class Abilities

Weapon Skills

Strength 5

Born of Flames

Sacred Star

Improvised Weaponry I

Endurance 5

Locked

Purge

Sling I

Vision 4

Locked

Eternal Night

Inspiration 14

Locked

Willpower 12

Charisma 9

In Corsythia: Desolyton, players who didn’t take the Neutral Choice would receive 10 points for each stat - 60 in total - that they could allocate as they wished. As he counted up his stats, which were based on his real body, he was disappointed to see that they only added up to a paltry 49 points.

Admittedly, the lackluster stats weren’t exactly surprising. He had never been very active in real life, so his low strength and endurance were to be expected, and he had to wear glasses, so his score in vision was equally unsurprising. He dismissed the stats without too much concern. In the end, leveling fixes all ills - and it looks like I already picked up ten. Those giants must have been quite a few levels above me.

His heritage was far more intriguing. He was vaguely familiar with the concept of Djinn - spiritual beings that haunted the wild and lonely places of the wilderness. Most were bad, some were good, and pretty much all were mischievous. He thought the Djinn were a little bit like the Fey, but didn’t really know what sort of traits to expect from them. At least his gamble with the Neutral Choice had paid off; they were definitely a rare heritage. Only the starter trait was unlocked, though; the rest would have to be earned.

Born of Flames

The Great Djinn emerged in the fires of creation. Forged from the Progenitor’s flames, they gain 50% resistance to fire and a 20% increase to fire damage.

Not bad. He had never really done the whole pyromancer build before. Jasper had to admit that fire certainly wouldn't have been his first choice; it always just seemed a little limiting. Next, he turned to his class.

Acolyte of the Secret Flame

Only the most promising guardians are allowed access to the secret flame. The fires of Qibush rage fiercer and longer than normal flames. Acolytes gain 20% resistance to fire, and 20% increase to all fire, projectile, and polearm damage types.

In order to evolve this class you must acquire a mount and meet other hidden requirements.

Jasper frowned, a little dissatisfied with the class. It didn’t really seem that different from normal pyromancy classes, aside from the strange bonus to polearm damage and the evolution requirements. The fact that evolution required a mount gave him hope that the class would end up more interesting than it seemed. Cavalry classes were rare and generally extremely powerful. They were also usually pathways to nobility, so while he had never played a mounted mage before, the class would probably end up being far better than it first appeared. With a sigh, he turned to the three spells.

Sacred Star

50 essence

An upgrade from the standard Fireball spell, Sacred Star summons three small explosive orbs of fire that have mild tracking abilities. Perfect for striking that pesky enemy hiding behind his great shield.

Purge

100 essence

Judge your enemy and find them wanting. This spell feeds off the sins of your foes, dealing massive fire damage. Will not work on foes with a positive karmic balance.

Eternal Night

100 essence

Summon the eternal void. For thirty seconds, sap a fifteen-meter area around you of all light and warmth to supercharge your fire damage. +100% fire damage.

The skills seem decent, although Purge is a bit too situational for my liking. What exactly is this class, though? Purge and Eternal Night don’t really seem like normal pyromancer spells, not to mention the whole “mounted mage” evolution. All that was left was to check out the two titles. As he read their description, his blood ran cold.

The Blood Runs True

Due to the resonance in your bloodline, you have been summoned to the defense of Corsythia. Bearer is 10% more likely to receive rare heritages, skills, and quest lines.

Betrothed of Kas̆dael

You have made a pact with Kas̆dael, last of creation. Faithfulness will be rewarded.

He kept rereading the words. Due to the resonance in your bloodline, you have been summoned…. He wasn’t sure what “the resonance in your bloodline” meant, but the second part seemed clear enough. The fear he had been valiantly fending off at last breached his defenses. I’m really here, maybe dead in real life. My family, friends, Layla, they’re all gone. Will they even know what happened, or will I be just another urban legend? He hadn’t had the greatest life, and he knew there weren’t really that many that would miss him, but, still, he wasn’t ready to lose everyone he’d ever known. It took him a moment to refocus, but reluctantly he moved on.

The second title wasn’t much better news. The lack of immediate benefits wasn’t necessarily a bad thing - generally such contracts tended to be high risk, high reward. Unlike contracts with major deities, you would usually have to complete difficult quests in order to unlock unique bonuses and spells, but if you succeeded in completing those quests, the rewards were much better. He didn’t really mind the contract itself; it was who the contract was with that concerned him.

He vaguely remembered Kas̆dael from the first game. She was actually a major member of the pantheon, but her cult was not particularly popular in the game world, and she hadn't even been available for players to contract with. The reason for this was that she played a crucial, but a rather dark role in their faith. One of the fundamental tenets of the Corsythian religion was the concept of cyclical theothanatism. According to their theology, there was only a finite amount of energy in the universe, all of which originally belonged to the Progenitor. The Progenitor created all the great gods, who in turn spawned the myriads of lesser gods and races. But, they believed that this act of creation exhausted all the Progenitor’s energy, causing him to fall into a deathlike slumber. His power lived on in the universe, quickening every beating heart with the spark of the divine.

But the universe was not fated to last forever. Each of the gods and races carried a finite spark of the divine, and once that spark was expended, they would die. Slowly but inevitably, all life, even the stars of the heavens, would be extinguished. Upon their death, the divine spark that sustained them would return to the Progenitor, who would awaken and renew the universe. Kas̆dael was believed to be the last goddess. Unlike the rest, her light would not die on its own. Instead, left alone as the last living being in a dead universe, she would choose to sacrifice herself to awaken the Progenitor.

While Kas̆dael was held in great esteem by the temples for her noble sacrifice, her followers were often viewed with suspicion. Due to her apocalyptic role, she had the tendency to attract followers who were more doomsday cultists than anything else. One particularly long-lasting and influential sect believed that if they destroyed the world, Kas̆dael would be able to usurp the Progenitor’s position, thus breaking the eternal cycle, and would resurrect her faithful servants to rule a new, unending world. Having her as his contract could complicate things for him once he managed to find civilization. Still, despite her chest-bursting method of leveling him up, he was deeply relieved that he wasn’t contracted to one of the evil deities. It could be worse. It could be better too, but it could be worse.

Having examined his character, all that remained was to assign his level-ups. He had initially taken for granted that he would have the same respawn mechanics as in Corsythia: Desolyton. But the fact that he had to level up like the books suggested that the respawn mechanic might follow the books as well. If that was the case, then resurrection was still possible, but it would be much, much more costly. In the books, one usually had to barter with your deity for resurrection, unless they were feeling generous. He wouldn’t know for sure until he died, but he had to operate under the assumption that death would be costly. In which case, he needed way more health.

Clicking on the level-up option, he was pleased to find he received three skill points per level-up, so he had 30 to assign. Health was governed by strength and endurance. Each point in either stat up to 10 provided him with 10 health, and points after 10 would provide him with 20 points. He immediately dumped five points into both, doubling his health.

The remaining points were harder to decide on. His class appeared to be destined to be a mounted mage, so he needed to invest in inspiration and willpower, which together governed essence, as well as the rate of essence regeneration. But without glasses, his vision, stuck at only 4, was a real liability. Charisma could also not be entirely ignored. Min-maxing was fine in a game, but he had to operate under the assumption that this was his life now. If he was really going to live in this world, it would be best if he didn’t go around constantly offending everyone. The fewer enemies made, the better. He put one point in charisma, to bring it up to 10, dumped six into vision, and then split the rest between inspiration and willpower.

Jasper Welles (10)

Level up available: 0

Health 200

Stamina 380

Essence 580

Heritage(s)

Greater Djinn

Class(es)

Acolyte of the Secret Flame

Titles

The Blood Runs True

Betrothed of Kas̆dael

Stats

Racial Traits

Class Abilities

Weapon Skills

Strength 10

Born of Flames

Sacred Star

Improvised Weaponry I

Endurance 10

Locked

Purge

Sling I

Vision 10

Locked

Eternal Night

Inspiration 20

Locked

Willpower 19

Charisma 10

Having completed everything he needed to do, he released her hand. She stared at him, silently, her fiery blue eyes tracking his every move, but he didn’t immediately leave the void. He stood there for a moment, waiting to leave, but nothing happened. With a groan, he realized what he had to do. Bending down, he gingerly kissed her hand. In a second, he was in her embrace and his heart was in her hands. One excruciating jolt of pain later, he opened his eyes back in the courtyard.

The shock and pain were significantly reduced this time. Jasper wasn't sure if that was due to his increased stats, or if it was simply something that he would get used to over time, but he couldn't complain too much. Any reduction in pain was a bonus. Pushing the memory aside, he stretched his arms out, pulling them back in a flex. He could immediately feel the changes in his strength and endurance. Actual muscles bulged in his arms, and when he ran his hand down his abdomen, he was surprised to feel the nascent traces of a six-pack. This beats the gym any day.

But the real changes were in his mind. Jasper could sense his spells lingering at the edges of his consciousness, just waiting to be cast. With a quick flick of his wrist, he cast Sacred Star against the courtyard wall. Energy surged through his arm as three red balls of fire shot out from his hand. Their trajectory was smooth and fast, the spells completely unaffected by gravity, and they smashed into the smooth stone walls in an instant. A cascade of explosions ripped across the surface, booming through the empty courtyard. The result was more impressive than he had honestly expected, and as the ringing in his ears slowly cleared, Jasper realized he was whooping with glee. With a satisfied grin on his face, he headed towards the entrance. With his heritage secured, and a new arsenal of spells, all that remained was to explore the building, hopefully find some clothes, and finally escape these ruins.

He moved cautiously through the doors, quickly scanning the room for signs of enemies. It was a large, dusty room, well lit by the light streaming through its many windows. A series of tables and chairs were scattered throughout the room, with a large fireplace rising on one side. Probably a dining room, or some sort of pub. On the far side of the room, a door led deeper into the building, while a staircase on the left led to an upper floor. After a moment’s debate, he decided to head up first. Hopefully, the upper floors would have bedrooms where he might discover a few clothes.

His guess proved correct, and after searching through several largely empty rooms, he found what he was looking for - clothes. They were nothing fancy, just an ancient pair of sandals and a couple of worn-out tunics that didn’t protect his privates nearly as much as he wanted, but it was still a decided improvement. Finally, I’m no longer naked and afraid. Just afraid.

He searched through the rest of the rooms on the floor, but found nothing else of use except in the second to last room, where he snatched up a small backpack. Jasper threw the spare tunics in the bag and tossed it on his back. When he reached the end of the hall, though, he was disappointed to find that the staircase leading up to the next floor was thoroughly destroyed. Only a few rotting pieces of wood still clung to the wall, and, reluctantly, he was forced to turn back. Truthfully, he hadn't found much on this floor, but he couldn't stop himself from imagining that some priceless treasure might have been left behind up there, just out of reach.

Jasper headed back down the stairs leading to the dining room and went straight to the door he had spotted earlier. He winced as it opened with an ominous creak. Thus far, he had seen no sign of enemies, but he'd prefer not to announce his entry, just in case. The door led into a dark, wood-paneled corridor. Along the sides, at even intervals, he could see doors leading off into other rooms, but aside from that, the hallway was empty. He moved slowly down the hall, keeping his ear cocked for any unexpected noises. He glanced in the rooms as he passed them, but there was nothing of interest. All of them appeared to have once been classrooms, but little more than broken desks and chairs remained.

The end of the corridor opened up into a small, two-story library. In the game world, books had been rare and exceedingly valuable. Despite the small size, Jasper knew that the collection was undoubtedly a priceless treasure. Books lined every inch of the walls, stretching all the way up to the ceiling, with wheeled ladders providing access to the upper shelves. If I had a bag of holding, I’d be rich.

He scanned the books looking for anything that might be a spell book, but he found nothing until he arrived at a section of three empty shelves. I bet that was where the spell-books were. He wondered why these ruins had been abandoned. The heritage tomb and the books lining the wall seemed too valuable to abandon, and there had been no real signs of violence, just the normal dilapidation of age. Whoever used to live in the academy should have had enough time to take the library with them, but instead opted to only take the spell books. Were they so rich that the books didn't matter, or did they intend to come back, he wondered. Aside from the books, there was little of value in the library, and he reluctantly decided to move on.

He took one last glance around the room, frustration rising in his chest. The books taunted him, the luxurious leather-bound volumes promising a wealth of riches waiting at his fingertips if only he had the means to secure it. But with nothing more than a small backpack, it was a promise he couldn't take advantage of. Jasper vowed to himself that he would come back, but as he left the room, he knew that it probably wouldn't be that easy. Cars and planes did not exist in Corsythia, and bags of holding were for the rich.

The emptiness of the building had lulled Jasper into a sense of security. He entered the next room carelessly, his mind preoccupied with schemes of ways to exploit the library. He strode into the room quickly, his steps hastening when he saw large doors that appeared to lead outside. He weaved around the rotting furniture, his progress unimpeded by the obstacles. Until, that is, he stepped on the tail of a tiger skin rug lying in front of an old hearth.

A roar ripped through the room as the rug blurred into motion. Before Jasper could even react, the cat pounced, driving him into the floor with a thunderous boom as it tried to rip his throat out. His newfound strength and endurance served him well, as he, with desperate strength, grabbed the tiger’s snarling jaws and barely diverted the force of its attack, slamming the tiger's mouth into the floor beside his head. But Jasper was not strong enough to throw the tiger off him, and the tiger reared back, slamming down upon him again. It took every ounce of his flagging strength to hold the slobbering jaws at bay, his arms shaking like a leaf from the stress. The tiger was just too strong.

Jasper's arms slackened a bit, the strength failing, as he realized he had lost. His death was inevitable, and he closed his eyes, not wanting to watch the tiger's fatal bite. But just as he was about to give up, his mind finally cleared a little. He had magic. His eyes flew open, and a brief burst of strength surged into his arms. It was just enough to push the tiger back a few feet. Time seemed to slow, and as the tiger fell back towards him, he twisted his hands in a quick motion. Sacred Star. The result was instantaneous. In his panic, Jasper had forgotten that Sacred Star was, fundamentally, an explosive spell. The force of the explosion plastered the tiger’s remains across the ceiling, while it thrust him through the floor. He plunged into a room below, a shower of broken beams and rubble crashing around him.

He lay there for a while, unable to move. Pain radiated through his body, and his breathing came rough and ragged, as he lay, awkwardly sprawled, on the broken floor. At last, he mustered the strength to peel himself off the rubble, wincing in pain as he pulled himself up. The light streamed down from the room above, thick with the dust of the ruins, while a haphazard rain of tiger guts splattered on the ground around him. In the dusky light, Jasper could see that he had fallen into a small room. In one corner, a small forge was set up and along the wall a large workbench was covered in a thick layer of dust and tools. With a groan, he staggered over to examine the forge. A dark glaive lay balanced on the anvil, and he reached out to grab it. When his hands made contact, he almost fell over when a box popped up in his vision.

Imperial Glaive (unfinished)

The private project of Sir Jakaryus, this glaive was lovingly crafted as a replica of the glaives wielded by Imperial Guards in the era before the Desolyton. Find someone familiar with the blade to advance the quest.

A quest item! He carefully picked up the weapon and gave it a test swing. It was a solid weapon, about seven feet long, with a curved 18-inch blade. The weight strained against his arms, and he knew he would need a few more points in strength to easily wield it. Still, it was at least a better weapon than his make-shift sling. Turning to the table, he swept as many of the tools into his backpack as he could fit. Unlike the bulky books, the small implements would be easy to carry; hopefully, they'd fetch a good price once he reached the market. The best find, though, was in the bottom drawer of the desk: a small coin purse with 18 silver coins and a handful of copper. Standing up, he surveyed the room with a sense of satisfaction, as a grin fought its way to the surface. Finally, clothes, a weapon, and, with any luck, a nice chunk of change. The grin faded as a spasm of pain ran up his back, reminding him of his narrow escape.

It took a while to find the door. Despite the small size of the room, the door had clearly been hidden, and he was forced to run his hands over the walls until he finally found the seam. It swung open easily enough, revealing a small winding staircase. He struggled awkwardly up the stairs, the lengthy glaive posing a bit of challenge in the cramped space. He paused at the door, and listened for any sign of foes, before throwing his weight against the door. It opened hard, with the screech of iron across stone, and he was surprised to emerge back in the library. Huh, a secret passage. Glaive in hand, he returned to the room where the tiger had been. A giant hole was now blown in the floor, and the smell of burnt flesh lingered in the air. He shook his head in bemusement. Thank god I have 70% fire resistance, otherwise I’d probably be just as much of a smudge as the tiger. Alexa, please set a reminder: don’t use explosive spells at short range again.

Hugging the wall, he skirted the edge of the hole and reached the other side. Another large set of doors, identical to the ones in the courtyard, loomed ahead. He had found the exit. Jasper paused and looked back at the empty halls. The loneliness of the abandoned ruins weighed down on him at that moment, an oppressive silence that seemed to make the very air hard to breathe. Thoughts of Layla and his mom flitted across his mind, of a world he’d never see again. I am the river; I flow around all things. I am the rock; all things flow around me. Over and over again, he repeated the mantra, banishing the thoughts from his mind until at last, calm restored, he took a deep breath and turned to the door. His voice echoed out in the deserted halls, “Whelp. Here goes nothing.”