59 – Deep Thoughts
After everyone on the council had taken their oaths, including Andy, he’d spent so ti with Lucy, chatting away the afternoon and evening, eating more fried fish, and cleaning their equipnt. She hadn’t yet given her “Heartseeker” bow to anyone, so he watched her polish both of her magical bows, shaking his head in amusent.
“What?”
“Nothing; I thought about being jealous of your loot, but then I rembered all my Codex entries and other little treasures. The System claims a lot of its awards are random, so I guess I’ll just believe it.”
“Good.” She smiled at him and continued her work while Andy flipped through the Codex book, thinking about what classes he might try to earn and train next. His mind was busy, and Lucy was quiet, so he was caught a little by surprise when he looked up and saw she’d crawled into her sleeping bag at so point and was fast asleep.
He wasn’t sleepy yet, so he quietly put his book down and slipped away, careful not to wake anyone as he wandered down to the lake cavern. His mind was busy with a million different thoughts, and so of them were quite heavy. Sohow, listening to his friends recite that oath had formalized their—and his—commitnt to the community far more than when they’d put their hands on the System node and beco citizens.
In Andy’s mind, that mont together, deep underground, had symbolized the start of a new society and set in stone the death of an old one. Things were different now; it was life and death in a way that people, at least those in first-world nations, hadn’t had to face for generations. Secrets mattered; they carried a weight of consequence that could affect their entire settlent. The idea that they could banish a person, sending them out into the hostile wild, for saying the wrong words to the wrong people was…heavy.
As he walked along the lakeshore, occasionally tossing a flat stone to skip across the waters, he ca to realize that part of that weighty feeling was the responsibility of knowing that the law and oath they’d co up with probably wouldn’t be the last. He’d never had so much responsibility in his life—not even close—and, from yet another angle, it drove ho just how much things had changed. It was probably natural, then, that when he considered that weight of responsibility, his mind drifted to the Lurikeen problem.
For all he knew, they were up there cutting down trees already. He didn’t think so, but he resolved to go check, sooner rather than later. If they weren’t openly chopping a tree, though, he didn’t know what good looking around would do; they seed perfectly capable of hiding from him, even with his Ember Vision spell active. He hadn’t tried improving it since refining his class. Could he go further with it? Would it evolve further? Would it matter? He had seven Improvent Points. Was he going to hoard them until he had twelve? Was he ready for that yet?
“Too many questions,” he said with a chuckle, chucking another stone out onto the water. The cavern was quiet, but far down the shore, he saw a pair of people fishing. It was hard to see any details, but he thought it might be Janice and Benny. Was he irritating them by throwing rocks into the lake while they tried to fish? “Nah, they’re a quarter mile away.”
With a sigh, he sat on a large, flat boulder and looked at his status sheet, focusing on Ember Vision. Before committing, though, he had another thought. He’d yet to try improving Cloak of Shifting Smoke beyond four, either. If he continued to improve it, would it hide him from the Lurikeens’ magical senses? As usual, he had plenty of questions but no answers.
His eyes drifted to the available Improvent Points, staring at the nural seven until it grew blurry. He’d been seriously contemplating hoarding those points until he had twelve and then, after swapping them for an Evolution Point, breaking the ceiling on his spear skill. The more he thought about it, though, the more it felt like that was premature. He was already getting hints from the System that he was close to a breakthrough. More importantly, there were other ways to break those ceilings. Hadn’t he broken so just by evolving his class? What would happen if his class went through another evolution?
Beyond class evolutions, there were natural treasures and Codex entries that could break ceilings. “And those are just the ways I know about.” In the end, he decided that Evolution Points might be worth grinding for, but he thought he had so growing left to do before he needed to rely on them. So, with firr conviction, he looked at his Ember Vision and Cloak of Shifting Smoke skills and tried to rank them in terms of utility and importance.
Both had proven invaluable, but Andy put Cloak of Shifting Smoke on top, simply because it was useful no matter what the lighting conditions. It was a spell that could be both offensive and defensive, too. On the other hand, when he reviewed the Ember Vision spell description he couldn’t help focusing on a single line: Living beings emit a subtle shimr, especially at the edges of their outline, allowing you to notice movent and locate hidden or partially obscured targets with ease. To him, that ant it was about more than just seeing in the dark. It was ant to reveal hidden foes, too.
Nodding, convinced of his logic, Andy applied an Improvent Point to Ember Vision. He felt a tingle in his skull as the System altered his knowledge of the spell, and then a ssage flashed across his field of view:
***Ember Vision has morphed into Fla Sight. The heart of fire lurks in your eyes, revealing what was obscured.***
Grinning with excitent, he reviewed the description:
Fla Sight – Bound: Your magical sight sharpens, shedding the darkest of veils. The world resolves in soft, sepia-toned contrast, restoring depth and fine detail even in the absence of light. Living beings emit a clearer shimr—most pronounced along the edges of their outline—making movent easier to catch and hidden or partially obscured targets harder to miss. Smoke, shadow, and glare lose their trickery as forms hold steady instead of saring, keeping shapes and boundaries crisp for surer footing and quicker reads in lightless spaces. Mana Cost: 8 per minute.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringent.
Andy nodded, muttering, “Hell yes,” as he read the words; it sounded promising. In almost every aspect, it seed that the spell would function better than before. Would it be enough to sniff out the hiding Lurikeens? He felt committed, so he applied another point to the spell…or he tried to. The System had other ideas:
***You have reached the current limits of mana-driven advancent for the Fla Sight spell. To move beyond this boundary, you must gain further understanding of the mana pathways that define abilities in this category. Alternatively, you may use a natural treasure or other such artifact to expand your understanding.***
“Huh.” It seed that not all ceilings were equally spaced along the path of progression. Would all his spells fare similarly? Having spent fewer points than he’d intended on Ember Vision, he went ahead and put another point into Cloak of Shifting Smoke, then, after the tingling rush passed through his mind, he received yet another notification:
***Cloak of Shifting Smoke has morphed into Deepsmoke Shroud. Shadows weave with the fire’s breath to obscure and deceive.***
Andy arched an eyebrow. It seed like most of his Brimstone Stalker spells were ready to morph thanks to his class refinent. Trying not to get his hopes up too much, he read the description:
Deepsmoke Shroud – Bound: You rge the essences of smoke and air into an obscuring veil. Your outline wavers at the edge of sight, your footsteps bear no substance, and even your scent thins until it’s swallowed by the haze. Light bends and scatters around you, and sound dies close to your skin, masking you from most natural senses. The shroud dulls the sharp edge of attention, making you easy to overlook even when eyes or instincts should have found you. The haze clings and flows with you like a second shadow, but sudden movent or direct contact will break the effect. Mana Cost: 30 per minute.
The spell had beco more costly, and it still said it would mask from most natural senses, but sothing new gave Andy a bit of hope: the line about dulling attention and making him easy to overlook, even when eyes or instincts should have found him. If the Lurikeens could see him, but failed to notice him, he might still be able to spy on them, assuming his new sight spell would allow him to spot them.
Pleased with his results, he tried to put another point into the spell. When the System confird he’d hit a new ceiling, he sucked his teeth in disappointnt and tossed a stone into the lake. With two new spell morphs to try out, he decided that he’d save his IPs for the ti being, at least until he’d taken the ti to study the rest of his codex entry.
The two points he’d spent, and the optimism the results had given him, seed to have done a lot for his state of mind. He could feel the pull of his sleeping bag, and one yawn after another encouraged him to hurry back up the stairwell to the main settlent cavern.
It was quiet, and the sounds of sleeping people and hushed conversations created an almost comforting susurration in the air as he tip-toed his way to the camp he shared with Lucy. She was curled up on her side, buried in her sleeping bag, and Andy smiled at the sight of her. He really did like her—sweet and fierce and good; she’d proven so a dozen tis over to him. He pulled his sleeping bag a little closer to her and climbed inside, and with her warmth radiating into his side, he closed his eyes and fell asleep almost imdiately.
When he woke, the cavern was still dark, with only a single lamp burning a shortened wick near the tunnel exit. Blinking at the darkness, Andy wondered why he, one of the last to fall asleep, was among the first to wake. The pressure in his bladder gave him a hint, and, murmuring a soft grumble of annoyance, he eased Lucy’s arm off his chest and wriggled out of his sleeping bag.
“Mmph. Andy?” Lucy peered up at him with bleary eyes.
“Yeah, going to the bathroom.”
“Okay,” she said with a yawn. “What ti is it?”
He squatted so she could hear him as he whispered, “Still early. Most people are sleeping.”
“Are you coming back to sleep?”
“I might take a quick scout around outside.”
She yawned again, then nodded. “Be careful,” she murmured, and then closed her eyes, snuggling down into her bag again. Andy grabbed his boots, coat, gloves, and spear, then he tip-toed out of the cavern. In the hallway, he put on his gear before hurrying down the tunnel to the central stairwell. Bernice was there keeping watch, sitting in a camp chair, reading a book by lantern light.
“Hey, Andy! Heading to the falls?”
“Yeah. Probably head up to scout around a little, too.”
She nodded, closing her book, but keeping a finger between the pages to mark her spot. “Thanks for letting know. I’ll spread the word when more folks start waking up.”
“Any idea what ti it is?”
“Early morning. Maybe around five.”
“Guess I got around five hours of sleep—not that bad.” The thing was, he didn’t feel tired, which made him wonder if he was just getting used to sleep deprivation.
“Well, I don’t think you’re the only one sleeping less.” Bernice shrugged. “Seems like maybe magic is having so unexpected effects. Well, that’s not my idea; Eddie told that.” She gestured to the tunnel leading to the waterfall. “Tucker just ca back from the falls. Said the water’s not flowing as heavily, and he didn’t think the rain was near as bad as yesterday.”
Andy smiled, turning his coat’s collar up to protect his neck. “That’s good. Might make my scouting trip a little more bearable.”
“Don’t get yourself into trouble now. If you’re not back in an hour or so, I’m going to organize a search party.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Gim two hours. I’m going to move slowly—try to maximize stealth.”
“Okay, hon. Be careful.”
Andy lifted his spear in salute, then padded down the long tunnel to the waterfall. He passed by the toilet buckets and walked straight to the mouth of the tunnel, standing behind the curtain of water as he relieved his bladder. Sighing with relief, he peered around the edge of the falls into the night, and it took him a few seconds to realize he was seeing stars. Zipping up his jeans, he moved closer and, sure enough, he could discern sizeable gaps in the cloud cover. More importantly, the rain was sporadic, spattering on gusts of wind, but not falling steadily.
“Storm’s ending,” he muttered, looking down past the edge of the falls. It was too dark down there to see much, so he cast his new spell, Fla Sight. As with Ember Vision, he felt the warmth of mana in his eyes, and then the world brightened, taking on golden sepia tones. The shadows down below retreated, and he saw a wide lake that stretched away from the sa for at least a mile before joining with one of the old desert washes and winding away into the desert—a river.
More than the lake was new; all along the southern shore, a huge wooded grove had sprung up. The trees weren’t like the squites up above. They were tall and slender with pale bark, almost like birch trees. They grew close together, and Andy had a feeling he’d hear their leaves whispering in the wind gusts if not for the waterfall’s noise. He turned, ready to head up to the ladder and through the hatchway to the outside, but then another idea ca to him.
With his back pressed to the stone, he inched his way past the water, trying not to get soaked, and when he was in the clear, he cast Smoke Drift. There was no way the spell would let him jump as high as the waterfall cave, but he was pretty sure it would slow his fall enough if he were to jump down from it. Before he jumped, though, he gave himself a sanity check. He’d used the spell enough tis to know how it felt when he ca down from a jump. He’d even jumped off the courtyard wall in the dungeon boss’s castle.
Nodding to himself, he gripped his spear and said, “It’ll be fine.” Then, he jumped off the waterfall ledge, aiming for the wooded grove on the southern shore of the lake.
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