The moment Theora left the house, she pulled one of her arms inside her multilayered clothing and rummaged around for a bit. When it came back out, she held a small, iridescent glass orb between her fingers.
This was the last one she had. Initially, she’d planned to keep this item — an Orb of Seven Wishes, a high-end quest reward — for a different purpose.
No choice. With a snap, the orb shattered into a fine powder between her fingers, carried away with the wind. As it went, her body was engulfed by a faint white aura that subsided over the next few seconds, and she felt noticeably lighter. A bubbly feeling filled her chest, her heart beating faster as was the blood flushing through her veins. A fake cloud of excitement induced by the temporary effect of the orb.
She hopped, and remained floating in the air. Then, she hovered out of the village, the wind lashing against her face and hair.
Theora was not built for haste — the quests she typically received weren’t time-sensitive in a way that made it necessary to rush. Also, it was possible that the grandchild was completely fine. However, training typically involved relying on level-up and achievement rewards, as well as reading new Skills. It was entirely possible that the boy had gone there expecting to receive a bunch of quest and levelling bonuses, and gotten none, and thus found himself in a dangerous position.
She’d lost her temper, and now, someone was in potential danger because of it. In fact, there were still many homes to check even in case he was fine.
She flew through the air, a few paces above the ground — the orb would have allowed her to go higher, but it was a mountainous forest region, so seeing her target from afar wasn’t easy. Instead, she followed the route described to her by the old woman, rushing ahead as fast as she could.
The two moons hadn’t entirely filled, but were strong enough to light the up-and-down path in front of her. The world swept past in a blur, forest scents filling her nose while she tried to still her thoughts and remain ready and poised for whatever she’d find at her destination.
It took her six minutes to reach the place. She had counted the seconds. A small ruin came into view, of what must have once been a mill. The riverbed next to it had dried out to a tiny rinse unable to power the massive wheel.
And thus, the mill had been abandoned. A lot of the planks making up the walls had withered away, leaving the stone behind. Theora found the young boy on the roof.
He was hurt, but alive. Panting deeply, with a puddle of blood beneath him, he tried to face off the Afterthoughts pushing him into a corner. He was clearly at wit’s end. There was no way to escape for him.
Afterthoughts weren’t intelligent creatures — in fact, they weren’t creatures at all. They formed from the surplus of thoughts and emotions, and were attracted to locations filled with bygone remorse or similar strong attachments. At least, that’s what most people thought, though Theora had a different suspicion about their origin.
That didn’t matter right now, though.
Lashing out against whatever was close with parts of the cognition that brought them into existence, the weaker ones were made of black, bulky shadows, resembling the beings that involuntarily created them.
Right now, there were two that looked like wolves, seven that looked like humans, and three birds of prey. Sharp contours, sometimes melting away before reforming.
The boy was a teenager, probably not even eighteen years old yet. He was holding a staff, likely a [Mage] and not a [Healer], since his wounds showed no sign of closing. Combat Classes weren’t common; he could well be the only one in that village to have selected one, save maybe for some of the guards.
[Obliterate] was a Skill that needed a target. That target had to be clearly defined, and singular.
However, while [Obliterate] could only target single entities, those entities could be about whatever one chose, although more creative choices showed more unpredictable results, many of which could include unwelcome side effects. The important part was that the Skill allowed abstract concepts as potential targets.
In this very specific case, Theora knew she was able to target the [Swarm of Afterthoughts], and her wind-element sword made her slashes carry through the air.
With a single, complex drawing motion, she destroyed all of them. They were torn into pieces, sweeping away in the wind, letting out terrible death cries. It felt awful to end them. Their remains scattered across the area.
Theora had caused this boy to be hurt, put herself in a position where she needed to kill. Afterthoughts weren’t truly alive, and yet, she couldn’t help but feel put-off, because using [Obliterate] on an Afterthought or the strongest monster in the world made functionally no difference. Before, there was something, and then there was nothing.
The boy sank to the ground. “Thank you,” he wheezed, his eyes losing focus. Theora closed the distance to him, checking up on his wounds, tearing off parts of her clothes to stop the bleedings for lack of any better material. “I messed up so bad… The System…” he mumbled. “I wasn’t getting any rewards… I thought I could keep going, but…”
Theora took him up into a princess carry. “Sleep,” she said, and turned to fly back to the village. Her night wasn’t even close to ending. There was still much left to do.
The moment Theora left the house, she pulled one of her arms inside her multilayered clothing and rummaged around for a bit. When it came back out, she held a small, iridescent glass orb between her fingers.
This was the last one she had. Initially, she’d planned to keep this item — an Orb of Seven Wishes, a high-end quest reward — for a different purpose.
No choice. With a snap, the orb shattered into a fine powder between her fingers, carried away with the wind. As it went, her body was engulfed by a faint white aura that subsided over the next few seconds, and she felt noticeably lighter. A bubbly feeling filled her chest, her heart beating faster as was the blood flushing through her veins. A fake cloud of excitement induced by the temporary effect of the orb.
She hopped, and remained floating in the air. Then, she hovered out of the village, the wind lashing against her face and hair.
Theora was not built for haste — the quests she typically received weren’t time-sensitive in a way that made it necessary to rush. Also, it was possible that the grandchild was completely fine. However, training typically involved relying on level-up and achievement rewards, as well as reading new Skills. It was entirely possible that the boy had gone there expecting to receive a bunch of quest and levelling bonuses, and gotten none, and thus found himself in a dangerous position.
She’d lost her temper, and now, someone was in potential danger because of it. In fact, there were still many homes to check even in case he was fine.
She flew through the air, a few paces above the ground — the orb would have allowed her to go higher, but it was a mountainous forest region, so seeing her target from afar wasn’t easy. Instead, she followed the route described to her by the old woman, rushing ahead as fast as she could.
The two moons hadn’t entirely filled, but were strong enough to light the up-and-down path in front of her. The world swept past in a blur, forest scents filling her nose while she tried to still her thoughts and remain ready and poised for whatever she’d find at her destination.
It took her six minutes to reach the place. She had counted the seconds. A small ruin came into view, of what must have once been a mill. The riverbed next to it had dried out to a tiny rinse unable to power the massive wheel.
And thus, the mill had been abandoned. A lot of the planks making up the walls had withered away, leaving the stone behind. Theora found the young boy on the roof.
He was hurt, but alive. Panting deeply, with a puddle of blood beneath him, he tried to face off the Afterthoughts pushing him into a corner. He was clearly at wit’s end. There was no way to escape for him.
Afterthoughts weren’t intelligent creatures — in fact, they weren’t creatures at all. They formed from the surplus of thoughts and emotions, and were attracted to locations filled with bygone remorse or similar strong attachments. At least, that’s what most people thought, though Theora had a different suspicion about their origin.
That didn’t matter right now, though.
Lashing out against whatever was close with parts of the cognition that brought them into existence, the weaker ones were made of black, bulky shadows, resembling the beings that involuntarily created them.
Right now, there were two that looked like wolves, seven that looked like humans, and three birds of prey. Sharp contours, sometimes melting away before reforming.
The boy was a teenager, probably not even eighteen years old yet. He was holding a staff, likely a [Mage] and not a [Healer], since his wounds showed no sign of closing. Combat Classes weren’t common; he could well be the only one in that village to have selected one, save maybe for some of the guards.
[Obliterate] was a Skill that needed a target. That target had to be clearly defined, and singular.
However, while [Obliterate] could only target single entities, those entities could be about whatever one chose, although more creative choices showed more unpredictable results, many of which could include unwelcome side effects. The important part was that the Skill allowed abstract concepts as potential targets.
In this very specific case, Theora knew she was able to target the [Swarm of Afterthoughts], and her wind-element sword made her slashes carry through the air.
With a single, complex drawing motion, she destroyed all of them. They were torn into pieces, sweeping away in the wind, letting out terrible death cries. It felt awful to end them. Their remains scattered across the area.
Theora had caused this boy to be hurt, put herself in a position where she needed to kill. Afterthoughts weren’t truly alive, and yet, she couldn’t help but feel put-off, because using [Obliterate] on an Afterthought or the strongest monster in the world made functionally no difference. Before, there was something, and then there was nothing.
The boy sank to the ground. “Thank you,” he wheezed, his eyes losing focus. Theora closed the distance to him, checking up on his wounds, tearing off parts of her clothes to stop the bleedings for lack of any better material. “I messed up so bad… The System…” he mumbled. “I wasn’t getting any rewards… I thought I could keep going, but…”
Theora took him up into a princess carry. “Sleep,” she said, and turned to fly back to the village. Her night wasn’t even close to ending. There was still much left to do.
