Tutorial's End

Josep

Recruitment Square, Farcem City, Motrendi

Death and taxes were said to be the only certain things. As it happened, death was significantly less reliable than advertised. Taxes, on the other hand, Josep suspected were honored yet.

The grim thought was one of his first as the Earth-like facade cast upon the area previously swarming in new arrivals and recruiters eager to engage them faded away like mist. The city square approximating Tokyo, or perhaps New York City, was replaced by a grander tableau entirely. Standing beside others who had arrived and gone through orientation alongside himself, Josep felt a sense of kinship and closeness that had become distant in the twilight years of his life on Earth.

Turning to the beautiful brunette lady to his right, Josep noted, "Quite the sight, eh? Don't think I've seen anything quite like it."

Twinkling eyes met his gaze, clear, distinct, and vibrant. The woman nodded her agreement before promptly turning to continue admiring the grand megalopolis emerging from the breaking fog. They stood at the base of a city, a city which extended into the distant sky as far as his shockingly adequate vision could discern. On every side, buildings stood like ancient oaks - lording over the planet upon which their foundations were laid. A hundred - no thousand - homes stacked one atop another wouldn't have stood a quarter so high.

Perhaps this city had once been named Babble, as Josep simply couldn't imagine towers rising higher than these. Surely, if anything could reach heaven and trespass upon The Almighty's domain, it had been accomplished here in this new 'real' world. Wonder such as he'd forgotten in high wee years surged through Josep in waves. His mouth split in a wide smile, showing rows of mostly straight, mostly white, teeth. Just one more miracle to add to the unending list.

"What do you think about the contracts they offered?" The same pretty woman asked him.

Josep's heart leapt and rushed in a manner he'd nearly forgotten as he turned and caught her stunning stare once again: her ruby lips turned upward as she favored him with a smile. Remembering her question, he promptly gave thought to his answer - unwilling to confirm his foolishness through the utterance of a rushed words.

Once he'd carefully considered and had his thoughts organized, he explained. "The original offer was obviously a worst case scenario for us and a best for them."

She nodded her agreement, slight knowing smile yet lingering and he continued. "I found them quite open to appropriate negotiation, though. Classic high pressure sales-men, certainly. 'Act now or the deal's off the table'" He scoffed, shaking his head. "As if we haven't all heard it a thousand times over."

A delicate hand rose to daintily cover the woman's soft titter of amused agreement, emboldening him. Standing straight, he announced proudly, "I am quite happy with the agreement we struck in the end! Many benefits, guaranteed yearly bonuses and raises, bi yearly opportunities to renegotiate my current position based on merit and contribution. What more could a man ask for?"

"You sound quite set! I wonder… What would you think of my own contract?" Her eyes dropped demurely, clearly abashed at asking.

Feeling the day was only getting better, he held out a hand to her. "I would be happy to take a look if you'd like. My name is Josep."

"Isabella. Charmed to meet you."

Ten years flew by in a blur, moving at such a pace that Josep found himself often considering whether time on Earth had been decelerated in some way. The blink of an eye saw weeks passing without fanfare. Regardless of the shocking momentum time's passing seemed to have, he'd rarely had a happier or more fulfilled period before his death.

His body remained in perpetually perfect health, Isabella and he had rapidly grown inseparable. Though she denied each of his marriage proposals with a good natured laugh and swatting hand, they were a match made in… Well, Josep's certainty in heaven had grown hazzy, so perhaps not there. A match made well, in any case.

They'd made a home together and he hadn't regretted a single moment of his new life.

Standing outside the director of internal operation's door, Josep breathed in deeply to center himself. Today was the day. He was certain.

Putting on the easy smile which others often noted was his 'secret weapon', Josep rapped smartly on the door. Only a few moments passed before the soft chime of a woman's soprano rang out, 'Enter.'

Doffing his working cap, Josep entered as he was bid and stood straight. "Good morning, ma'am."

"Good morning, Josep. To what do I owe the pleasure today?" Siren ladies were one of the more uncommon races he'd interacted with - despite working tirelessly for Windell's United for twenty years as of today. Their voices made thinking difficult, and somehow undesirable.

Buckling down and forcing his lethargic mind into motion regardless, Josep got straight to the point. "Miss Dressa, ma'am, I am here to request I be allowed to begin on my path. Further, I'd like to request my wife, Isabella, be allowed to join me." Although Isabella had yet to actually agree to marry him, she'd never objected any time he'd claimed her as his spouse. It had become a kind of game between them, where he asked her to marry him directly after introducing her to someone as his wife.

"Mmmmmhm…" The melodious sing-song hum was difficult to interpret. Thankfully, Dressa didn't keep him guessing. "Your own approval is already here." She smiled and made a waving motion, which was followed by the UICI prompting him to read an incoming approval notice.

Josep's heart leapt in his chest, seeing the official seal of his faction hovering in the ghostly blue light of the interface he'd long gotten used to - after a humorous few years of bafflement and confusion. Before an excited 'thank you' could leap from his lips, miss Dressa continued. "As for Isabella, that is a more difficult matter… You are aware of her…" Perfectly manicured blue-painted nailed tapped on the polished wood of she desk the stately woman sat behind as she searched for the correct word. Finally, she shook her head and pressed forward, "…of her discriminatory nature?"

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

A sigh slipped from Josep's lips unbidden. For all his woman was a wonder, she was certainly not without flaws. The most glaring of which was the former countess' insistence in humanity's inherent superiority. Over the years, she had come around on believing the color of human wasn't also of import. Such ways of thinking had fled Josep's own mind nearly immediately, as soon as he'd been exposed to the wider world and found himself humbled by his own inadequacy. Isabella, on the other hand, dug her heels in and set herself firmly in certain beliefs.

"I won't pretend to be blind to her faults, ma'am. She is working on it. Her entire life in the tutorial was…" He floundered himself for words for only a brief moment before grasping hold of one, "…conditioning. Everything in the tutorial seemed designed to indoctrinate her into believing in a specific social order. She is working to push past her prejudices and see every being for the wonderful individual they are."

The white lie would hardly hurt. Isabella was uninterested in changing in any such direction. It was Josep who was working on her, slowly and patiently. They had eternity, after all. There was no reason not to spend at least a fraction of his infinite life helping the woman he'd come to love overcome the worst parts of herself.

Dressa appeared entirely unconvinced as her flat eyes stared at him. After several long moments, she sighed, "I will approve both of you entering a path together. But-" She held up a long forefinger, the long nail having shifted into the sharp claw of a predator. "If she makes any more comments against her fellow workers due to racial traits or cultures, I will be invoking the correction clause in her contract."

Josep's face twisted as if he'd tasted something sour, his eyes squinting unpleasantly at the news. The 'correction' clause was included in everyone's contract, but was rarely relevant. It could only be activated after the contractee had begun upon their path, for one. Beyond that, to qualify at all required the contract holder to actively work toward the determent of the contractor. Dressa threatening to activate the clause made clear just how seriously Isabella's views were impacting those around her.

Taking a deep breath, Josep nodded. "I will let her know of the condition."

"You do that. I'll also be sending her provisional approval to you, which you may forward on to her after having your conversation. It states her intent toward doing away with her unacceptable bigotry and working to integrate with society properly. As a member of it, not some ruler."

Sitting in the empty boardroom, Josep felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He made no move to wipe them away, nor did he hold them back. He wept softly as he stared at the simple recording one of his employees had shared with him.

One of Isabella cheering within a crowd of dissidents wearing clothing with the insignia of Judas' Call. The order's stated symbol was, 'The flame of humanity.' With all of their ideals being related to humans rising above the other races in the world. In an endless universe contained within an endless multiverse, their purpose was to suppress others.

The discovery would have been devastating no matter the circumstance, but it was only compounded by the fact that his 'wife' had vanished without a trace earlier that same year. Thirty years together, and she'd disappeared without so much as a note or a goodbye. He'd searched for her for the next decade, finding no success.

In desperation, he'd requested an appointment with Windell's United's chief of contract enforcement and had been shocked and delighted to find the meeting request accepted. The enforcer supreme had listened to his story and request for information on whether any enforcers had been sent to bring her back to complete her contract - aware as he was of how seriously contracts were taken.

The revelation that her contract had been completed early through a series of unusual, but perfectly legal, events had left Josep with an unknown dread. He had known at that moment that Isabella was well. That she had chosen to leave, and to leave without warning or explanation. Yet he refused to believe it, holding instead to memories of better days. Memories of who he'd wished her to be, rather than who she truly was.

Now, watching his love acting like a hateful child, his memory denied him the fantasies he'd indulged in for so long. For the first time without an aiding regent, Josep knew something so deeply that his very soul forced his lips to move. "Memory is Bent by Fantasy."

Hours later, he spoke again, his eyes now dry.

"Memory is Bent by Fantasy, but my Memories will not be."

An empty room formed within his mind. A room with a single shelf, filled with books which told tales of a woman he scarcely knew.

A hundred years since he'd died. A hundred years since his life had begun. A hundred years of memories stored within an ever-expanding library of his own style and preference.

After learning of Isabella's deviance, Josep had requested a reassignment. He explained to his superior, at that time a large dwarven man name Cholme, that he felt his leadership was not to be trusted if his own memory was so rose-tinted. Being the understanding boss he was, Cholme agreed and helped find Josep a new position suitable to his newly registered insight. He became a historian for his faction.

Eventually, his path had diverged from the one he'd taken for himself and had been following for so many years. 'The Bright Heart', had focused on building relationships and helping build others up around himself and in turn being raised up beside them. Several of his insights into the path had broken over the years. Not so dramatically as some 'shattered' insights he'd heard tales of. Rather, they had degraded over time and drifted further from his grasp and his soul in a way quite similar to a friendship not broken - but slowly drifted until it becomes impossibly distant. Still there, yet at the same time… not there at all.

Surprisingly, Josep found himself content with the forked path he'd taken. Rather than focusing on building relationships, he learned to cherish their memories. Instead of forging new and exciting experiences, he recalled and recorded them.

The idea of following Isabella, of confronting her for her treachery, for the many ways she'd subtly manipulated him over the years, never even occurred to Josep. At least, not until he was speaking as a guest at a university. With a spell he himself had devised, shared the painful portion of his life with the student in the hope they would learn the intended lesson: to always observe and judge things as they were, rather than how you wished they were. One student had come to a different conclusion, though, and had demanded what Josep had done about Isabella.

The question stuck with Josep for many years, until he had finally come up with an answer to the student's question, though belated by fifteen years. So, he spoke again, "I Watch and Remember"

The truth was, Josep had never been a 'doer.' Of the jobs he'd had, he wasn't good at ones which required action. Rather, he had been a decent supervisor, an accomplished observer, and a great historian. He didn't 'do' anything about Isabella, and he never would. Because that wasn't who he was.

Another five thousand years passed in the blink of an eye, and Josep watched. He recorded the rise and fall of factions, orders and guilds. He witnessed fights between strangers and friends. He took statements from criminals and innocents and with every year that passed, Josep found himself becoming more content. He found himself more alive, while being less included. Less involved. Less… Connected.

Eventually, he found himself watching a world at war. He had only ever died once, never having gone through a respawn. Yet he felt no fear as he watched the cataclysmic displays of power by beings many times more powerful than himself. Felt no awe as the geography and topography of the planet's surface rapidly changed and shifted. Was not moved by the screams and plights of the innocents suffering under conflict they never asked for.

As he watched, he asked himself a question that had been haunting him. The question, as far as he'd learned over the course of his life. The one question that must be answered, if one wished to avoid eventually deciding to restart - to give up everything they were and re-enter the tutorial.

The answer to the question, in his case, was quite simple.

"I Bear Witness"

The spoken word caused the moment to fracture into a million, and Josep was broken and reformed. He became something both greater and lesser than himself. He forsook his humanity and transcended what he had been since birth. The ascension was strangely casual, as raw potentia flowed into Josep as if a dam had broken and he himself was the lake beneath.

And nothing changed. Josep Watched.