Harper

What do you mean, not a valid target!

Pressing her will at her building intelectus, she demanded an answer. Her will was funneled into the intelectus like it was an adult on a nostalgia trip with juice boxes. Sucked dry and crumpled, that is how her mind felt.

[New building ability discovered: Advisement

Generate a planning intelectus based on building skill level

Skill level 1: Static plan

Skill level 5: Advised plan

... ]

“You are an adult. You should be able to figure this out. Uh… I guess I’ll be helpful, though.” Harper heard someone else using her voice. “You are a builder! Not a ye old-time carpenter, not a mattress stuffer. Honestly, it’s in the name.”

“What the hell are you?” Harper asked.

“I’m just a part of you, darling. My domain of thought is your building skill, which I find you’ve mismanaged. Just like you are right now by asking me a pointless question. Do you want to know what you should be asking?” Building Intelectus, still using Harper’s voice, drew out the last sentence in a teasing tone.

“I’m sorry, what? Uh… yeah, what should I be asking?” Every beat of Harper’s heart reverberated in her mind like a drum.

“You should be asking how to build what you want anyway. In that case, I’d recommend you build yourself a prison. While I, and thus we, detest building furniture. In prisons, furniture could conceivably be built in. Not to mention the benefits after going down the path of empowerment. I tell you wha-” Building Intelectus went quiet suddenly and the glowing image in her mind faded away as well. Replacing the Intelectus was a sensation that gave Harper a vivid understanding of surviving an attempted lobotomy by ice pick.

Without jarring movements, Harper crawled over to her leather bag. Rifling through it twice, she finally found the compact first aid kit. Tearing open the two tablet packet, she downed the painkillers. After that, she rested.

The pain and the panic worked off each other, every heartbeat hurt and the pain made her worry. The eternity of suffering only lasted 45 minutes, according to her tablet. But it was a lesson she didn’t plan to forget. Her head pain had lowered enough that even her fearful self could risk spending her willpower to make her building intelectus again. This time she focused on throttling down and maintaining only the first tier of aid.

A prison… Harper didn’t like the idea of sleeping in a prison cell, but after working the concept over, it wasn’t so bad. Didn’t most nations have really fancy prisons that were basically retreats. Yes, her prison would eventually have all the amenities. From a gym, to a library, to a hot tub, her prison would have it all. At its center would be her room. A prison cell she could sleep in and cast her magic into. With that picture in mind, she reimaged her previous net bed, only this time it was built into a prison house. Spacious 8-foot ceilings it saved wall-building by being connected to the edge of the camp wall. A kitchen with a washbasin and countertop. Holding back, Harper promised to herself she’d get there. Eventually, but right now, she had to build a place to sleep by nightfall.

Nodding in satisfaction at the image, she again squared off at the project and willed fearful blue arcs of power forth. All around her, the building materials jumped to action. As her fear drained away, a wonder settled in. If she thought she had a singing voice, she would pretend to be an animated movie princess. Fiber tied itself into the rope for her net bedding. Lumber split itself and broke off lengths to match what was needed. The splayed out ends of wood looked to melt like wax until it was a recognizable rectangle her mind expected.

When her energy was all spent, she still hadn’t finished the project. From the ground up, a flat wooden floor and the beginning of a studio apartment took shape. Another application of magic or two and it would even have a roof.

Not that she minded getting dirty with manual labor but given that she could do a lot of it with magic, building by hand began to feel like a waste of time. That left her again with the opportunity to focus on something she was interested in and seemed fulfilling. Harper sent up a silent thank you to whatever transferred her.

Gathering up her collection of blue mushrooms, Harper went to testing. When damaged, they would create blue bubbles of energy. She knew this, but that just didn’t seem like enough information. So she studied them. First discovery she had already known but forgot. Cutting them at the stem didn’t seem to cause any particular reaction. The visible cross-section of the stalk would emit a fresh blue light again as it bled out power and a blue liquid. Harper gathered this liquid into the lid of her thermos. One mushroom large enough that the shield boar ignored it produced enough to make a no. 2 pencil deep body of liquid. Harper scanned it.

[Shield Juice:

This variety of shield juice is sourced from shield sporechild fungus. Used as a reagent by Apothecaries and Alchemists this liquid holds the essence of shield for a fleeting time.]

Poking it with the tip of her knife, the shield juice, uhg what a name, it held tension more than water did, but the knife planted itself inside the pool without difficulty. Shaking the mixture, Harper watched for any sudden bubbling but found none. Still suspicious, Harper poured a bit on the ground to see what would happen. Again nothing. Suspicions quelled sufficiently, she dipped the tip of her pinky finger into the remaining liquid and touched it to her tongue.

It was a risk but a calculated one. Another animal ate them without adverse effects, except that one time, of course. But Harper figured that was her own fault. Something she did turned the primary food into a trap. Further, all her testing showed that the mushroom cap was the origin of the shield bubble.

The flavor was a mellow sweetness with a fruity note. Other than that, Harper couldn’t identify any noticeable changes.

Continuing her experiment, Harper placed the thermos lid over the fire to bring it to a boil. A branch split halfway down with a rock placed in the split acted as tongs. Harper watched the shield liquid turn from a bright clear blue to a dark opaque blue. Using the tongs to swirl the cup periodically, she pulled it off the fire when it moved like a gel. As much as she wanted to see if it would crystallize and what that could do, this was her only drinking vessel.

Scanning the material again, Harper smiled at the results.

[Shield balm:

Shield balm can be applied to provide protection from most contact agents, and slightly reduce force damage. Reagent activation 44%: reduced shelf life, reduced duration of protection, significantly reduced force damage protection.]

[New skill awarded: Apothecary 1

Increases insight into reagents and improves handling precision.]

Digging through her bag, her ravenous hands came away disappointed. There were some remaining, but Harper could see now they were severely damaged.

Well, she would just have to get some more. Now was an excellent time for scouting anyway. Her magic was exhausted, so the need to expend it was still far off. With an in-progress building project, she had a sense of direction about how to return home. Gearing herself for the trip, Harper refilled her leather bag with the remaining rope, knives, hatchet, first aid kit, and her now filled and clean thermos.

Leaving the shield balm on a flat rock was the best she could manage and would provide even more information over time.

Stepping out of her new door, she thanked it for protecting her. Probably stupid, she knew but it couldn’t hurt to be respectful. Exiting her campground for the first time since arriving at the spring and claiming it as her residence reminded her of how alien and unsafe a world this place really was. Putting the hedge of plants she’d followed to the spring on her left, she walked away from where she had first arrived.

As before, Harper hiked down the slope. Thwarted time and again by brambles and dense forest undergrowth, Harper slowed her pace. Vibrant red moss caught her eye and she tried to scan it with no pop-up. She was torn about gathering it or not. In the end, there just wasn’t enough space. She could always come back for other samples later.

Minute after minute ticked by as she hiked along. Swatting at the bugs abusing her slow pace and collecting the shield mushrooms. Steadily she made progress into the unknown. Getting lost in the nature hike Harper looked at her watch to realize an hour and a half had gone by. Her magic had rebuilt and she needed a small project for the road.

Pushing through another layer of leaves and vines, a clear space opened up. Plantlife strangled in the shade cleared room to look side to side. With striated stone of sandy and dark brown, the cliff face before her didn’t make sense conventionally. It reminded her a bit of the grand canyon. Much less vertical, but the wall in front of her could have been a less red miniature. From Harper’s memory of Earth science, most famous cliffs were formed from tectonic activity. How would a river even wear away at a cliff like this without a river bank anywhere nearby? With a little laugh, Harper threw up her hands. Trying to use Earth Science on a foreign world with magic. Heck, maybe she was wrong about the facts anyway.

Thinking of this as a foreign world gave her some inspiration. Filling out her creativity with glowing lines, she adjusted it twice to make it a valid target.

[Lighted Signpost - valid target

Assembly 0/42

Empower 0/500]

Wood and stone pulled together, making a 3d jigsaw puzzle of a lamppost and sign. Local stone took up the bulk volume while wood acted as her own version of hot glue. She’d rather have just made a lamppost, but somehow that wasn’t a valid target. The sign, however, was, and this allowed her to attach a small sign to the side of the lamppost.

Reading the scrolling lettering, it just felt right. Hub. That is what her camp would be. The Hub for adventure. Inspired by every great game, she loved the image of a thriving market for resupplying and selling bounties. Mixed with training centers for new skills and abilities. Harper named her prison camp for the hope she envisioned.

Continuing her journey across the cliff face was easygoing. Hiking in the shadow of the underbrush Harper advanced her hiking skill to 4. So far, the benefits didn’t feel tangible. As much as she loved seeing numbers climb up, when she couldn’t tell the difference, it seemed cheap.

At first, she thought it was her imagination but after a while, Harper became more sure. The cliff had a steady curve to it, bending back against the uphill direction she’d come from. Mile after mile, the ridge continued to surround the hill. This gave Harper’s mental map a bowl-like image of what the transition phase looked like.

It made a lot of sense after all. Just like a game, the developers couldn’t make endless content, and the transition phase having limits made a lot more sense than an infinite world.

While debating the merits of climbing the cliff to find the actual limits of this world, the cliff face opened up ahead of her. A cave of some sort made Harper draw up short. Pulling out both of her knives, she swallowed her fear and pushed on.

At some point, she’d have to find and slay the monster. This was just scouting anyway. She’d only fight if she had to.

Using that rationalization Harper crossed the lip to the cave and looked within. The light bouncing off the foliage barely lit the back of the cave. It wasn’t that deep. A nest of fur and feathers the size of her whole camp probably wasn’t even entirely out of the rain. Quietly approaching, she began to see distinctions and shapes in the nest. The fur and feathers were in clumps. Making a lumpy arrangement of colors and textures. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, the cream color of a tusk drew her vision. The rest of the skull began to make it clear. All around the nest and even under her hand were the corpses of a small forest of animals. Each one dehydrated with shrink-wrapped skin. Mummified to the point that she didn’t even smell decay, her mind tried to place what type of monster could do something like this. A feeling in her heart stopped her from pulling away.

Scan!

[Hibernation nest - valid target

Extract hibernation essence (0/1)]

Like watching a train wreck, Harper pressed the skill to do its thing. Part of her mind screamed at her this isn’t part of the plan. Her curiosity replied, but we have to know.

A ripple of distorted light coalesced into a ball before drawing straight to her chest. Removing her hand and stepping back, the essence continued until it merged inside the same space as her magic. Harper harrumphed her bated breath away. Pretty anti-climactic.

At least she had gotten away before - NOPE! Don’t even think it.

Having had enough of the scouting expedition, Harper followed her building intelectus to find the Hub. Strangely enough, she was pulled in the direction of the cliff. It was steep and her first attempt to climb straight up was thwarted by handholds of cliff breaking away. Harper searched for another way. Looking up and down the foliage clear section of cliff, Harper found a tall tree branch that reached over the top of the cliff. She hurried to the tree. The less time spent near the monster nest the better.

Rough craggy bark bit into her hands as she found hand and foothold up the trunk. Shaking and sweating, her arms screamed in protest. Looking down, she’d made it more than 20 feet. The first branch was another 10 at least. Squeezing her eyes shut, she envisioned the mummified corpse beside that poor Shield Boar skull. Moving one more hand hold up, Harper pushed with her legs. Putting as much work on her legs as possible, she maneuvered foothold again and again. Eventually though, the climb would require her to pull herself up. Her arms burned and quiet noises of pain leaked out despite her effort for stealth. Half way there. Her eyes roved over the roots and rocks under her.

At this height, landing on a forest floor may just get her killed. Resting against the tree for a moment, Harper cleared her mind of all other options, worries, and fears. Going on was the only way, and nothing else mattered. Just like butchering or preparing meat. Limiting what she paid attention to nothing more than a small truth and making it her whole world. This was the same thing. She would do this, there was no other way.

Reaching with her arm again, she pulled herself up. Again with the other arm nearly there. Footholds took her to the branch but she couldn’t reach to pull herself up at all. Clenching her jaw, she pulled herself up again. A cramp built fighting her efforts to push herself with her legs. One more pull and she threw her rebellious body onto the safety of the branch.

Letting her focus waver in the reasonably safe location, her cramping bicep demanded her attention. Using her other arm, she could straighten it back out, making the pain diminish. Sitting there breathing and massaging her muscles with her functional arm took up her attention for a while.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Overconfidence is a killer. Survival is serious business, not fun. Fun is built on the foundation of survival, and if you neglect the foundation then your building is doomed to fall.

She stayed glued to the tree by her self-recrimination far longer than she would admit.

Pulling her bag off her shoulder where she had slung it made her eyes burn. The rope was right there. She could tie it to a rock or branch and throw it over. Then climb up a rope. Harper’s view of her torn-up hands blurred with tears. Shuddering with a silent sobbing, Harper cried. It didn’t make sense to her, but she couldn’t stop it or understand it despite the effort.

Pulling herself back together after crying it out felt hollow. The confident explorer and gamer belonged in her den with a controller and a screen to filter troubles though. Shame hit her gut at the thought but nothing came up to argue on her behalf.

Cutting a foot-long section of a branch, Harper let the rest of it fall to the forest floor. Next, she tied the rope around it. Testing the weight, it worked just like she thought it would. Taking aim of the next branch in the tree a good 20 feet up she launched the branch over it. Rope trailing the branch she only felt more shame as it looped around the branch before gently swinging back to her. Almost effortlessly, it mocked her trying the wrong way.

Climbing the rope braced off the tree was so much easier her exhausted muscles didn’t even try to rebel.

Looking out across the branch Harper took her first look at the top of the cliff. A shimmering wall of some sort sat back a house length from the edge of the cliff. After packing her rope back up, Harper balanced across the branch. The trip to the barrier of the transition phase was uneventful.

The shimmering barrier bent in front of her, showing more forest floor before her. Following the pull of her intelectus, she turned and walked across the edge of the border. How in the world this was closer began to become apparent. Jogging forward with her eyes on the cliff edge, the distortion showed her traveling at a baby step for every loping step performed. Walking back to the cliff, Harper sped along its edge at a walking pace.

A sudden change in the direction of her intelectus told her she was aligned as close as the barrier got to the Hub. Walking forward, she wanted to be home. As much as this could be called home. The barrier didn’t retreat the same distance as she approached it. Getting closer with each step, Harper stopped when it was right in front of her nose. Closing her eyes, she took a step of faith. She’d taken risks so far. This wasn’t that much of a gamble, was it?

Opening her eyes was a vision of Hub, her new home. Launching herself through the door, Harper spun and barred it behind herself. That was enough foolishness for a day.

A screech echoed across the bowl she was trapped in with a monster. Correction pissed off monster she just robbed. Harper approached the new heart of her Hub and channeled her fear into the prison that was her home.