Obtaining a Class is in some ways the most significant part of someone's life. It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that it defines the paths one might take in their life. An [Armorsmith] would, naturally, be making armor. Good armor at that. The power of a Class is no joke, those attempting tasks better suited to another with a fitting Class will almost always be inferior. It is a truth of the world, and if ever there existed someone without a specific Class that could somehow out armorsmith an [Armorsmith] I'd wonder terribly at why he wasn't one himself.

- The Origin of Skills and Abilities, The Untethered Tomes

The Marketplace Between was a wonderous place, now that Jayke had an actual look at it unescorted. Myconid, dwei, and other races mingled, all somewhat wary at Jayke's appearance. It was a place adapted to strangeness so Jayke didn't hold their attention too long.

The dry walk between sandy stalls would've left any mouth parched. Terk, friend that he was, had offered Jayke an item of magnificence. It was a closed cup, a flask in function. It held more water than it should strictly allow. An item of holding, Terk had called it, a small one of decent value, but no small fortune like the berry Jayke had traded.

With it, he was able to peruse the odd and colorful shops that were layered with sand at his leisure. There were few things on his mind as he walked, Jayke was one that enjoyed the moments of ease. There were overarching goals he had set for himself, but the opportunities had not yet presented themselves.

The combination of a surplus of heal berries and Terk's kindness had led Jayke to throw in an extra berry once their dealings were complete. He recalled the shrewd myconid's colors flashing in confirmed suspicion, and the gift that followed in response. The myconid had sent Jayke off with the container for water and a few smaller trinkets to trade for food if he sought it, or anything else that caught his eye. The berries were too valuable for smaller deals, and unrecognizable in value to most.

The maps he kept furled in a container draped across his front, less the sticky hands of children find it.

His eyes scanned the crowd unabashed, in awe at the variety of myconids he saw. More so in the people he didn't.

The dwei were light-skinned people to match the desert sand. They stood out for the simple fact that they didn't. They seemed to mottle into their surroundings. In a crowd, you wouldn't find a dwei unless they were in your periphery. They, like the Desert Blurr, tended to, well, blur.

Jayke busied himself with spotting them in the crowd when the stalls he walked by weren't of his interest.

The bustling of bodies left an almost everpresent crunch and shifting of sand. That, combined with wind acted as a constant backdrop of noise. Because it wasn't until long that Jayke realized the unease he was feeling was due to the fact that the Marketplace Between operated in silence, in terms of speaking. Whipping wind and movement had concealed the fact, but it was true, speech wasn't something Jayke had heard yet. Not here. Myconids didn't speak, and customers that did didn't use any language recognizable by Jayke. So while the Marketplace was loud it never talked. At least not to him.

He approached a sweetly smelling stall at the behest of his stomach.

The shop was selling hot meat skewered through sticks, and surely, there was someone cooking. But the keeper of the stall only became apparent when a customer appeared, handing over the stick in barter for small trinkets. To call the dwei naked was the same as calling a myconid nude. In the moments Jayke had seen them unblurred, they shimmered with glittering scales.

Smoke filled the air, the sound of sizzling meat and hungry customers. Jayke openly drooled, forgetting the last time he had ever eaten freshly barbecued meat. His hands itched at the small silver trinkets Terk had given him, and he approached the stall. He was glad to have been the subject of human greed in the past, it had prepared him to deflect the wandering hands of many speedy children.

Following the example of other customers, he found his way to the front counter of the stand, squeezing between tall fluorescent myconids and hungry dwei. He made his way beside a realistic statue standing right beside the stand. Or so he thought, the statue turned slightly to regard him before the dwei manning the stand handed it a skewer and it walked off, myconid and dwei moving out of its plodding way. Jayke blinked at the moving rock and again at the skewer shoved in his face by a shimmering dwei that appeared out of thin air.

The dwei's eyes glittered like rainbows and Jayke became lost in their gleam before a myconid beside him tapped his shoulder. "He seeks reasonable barter, stranger."

Jayke shook his head and held up a small silver trinket, turning slightly to the helpful myconid. "Will this do?"

The myconid only turned toward the shopkeep, who grabbed the trinket and shoved the skewer in Jayke's hand. The helpful myconid undulated green and blue and turned to its own business. The shopkeeper did not hand the myconid meat, instead, he was handed some colorful drink which he then poured on himself delicately.

"Ah." Jayke said, eyeing the spectacle. "I think I see how the Marketplace works then." He glanced around at the shopkeepers and customers. The myconids numbered greatly. They were always present and that, Jayke presumed, was how business was held. Myconid's didn't need language, and often enough they were nearby to act as intermediaries.

He turned his attention to the meat in his hand and took an unhesitant bite. The burst of flavor was one he considered his first meal upon arriving. His best to the cook, the meat was seasoned to perfection. He ripped away at his food idly, working his way down the sharp skewer and keeping an eye out for anything interesting, or better yet, what he had been looking for this entire time.

As soon as he finished his skewer he found it.

The wares sold by the stall necessitated the same heavy fabric that Terk had employed. They were not so delicate as they were prone to damage. Thus the tent-like store. Books tended to be easily ruined. Especially ones of old bindings and yellowed paper and treated leather. Tough, but prone to damage.

It was an odd thought that accompanied Jayke's entrance that he'd like to start a collection.

"May I help you, stranger?" This time Jayke didn't recognize the shopkeep's species. He caught beady eyes observing the map container strapped across his chest before they darted away and around.

Jayke impolitely froze at the sight of her. She wore a blue flowing robe. The hood covered her head but did nothing to hide small whiskers and beady eyes. A padded hand tucked a book away, head tilting questioningly at Jayke.

She was not a myconid. "How are we speaking to each other?"

"Pay it no mind. A Skill. [Gift of Tongues]. I can speak to anyone freely." The person's voice was higher, like the sound windchimes. "With or without, I recognize the Common tongue."

A Skill could have an effect like that? Jayke frowned, his Skills seemed different. Hopefully, he would get more context here, however. He already got some context. as it seemed English was interchangeably Common.

"What are you? I haven't met one of your kind before. Or is that impolite?" After wandering the Marketplace Between, he found it easier to ask questions when they arose, the locals even expected them sometimes rattling off answers too quickly. Jayke stood next to a bookshelf and the person pushed up small spectacles that framed her small face. He was surprised to recognize some amount of body language from her more than the fact she wore glasses.

"The deepfolk - the dwellers - never take offense." She waved a quick furred hand. "We are unknown sometimes to even ourselves." She chimed in good humor. Her hands were preoccupied moving about drawers and shelves and knick-knacks as if they had a mind of their own. "Shadshin specifically, to your question. Scholars and thieves as it were." She spoke, her speech as hurried as her hands at times. "New to the Marketplace Between then." Came the observation.

"Shadshin." He repeated. Scholars and thieves. "I'll remember it."

Mouse people. Observant.

"Before I ask why you've come, might I direct the question back to you?" Her hands had finally found what they had been looking for. She'd come away with a large book. She flipped through many drawings and her fingers flicked through pages quicker than Jayke's eyes could catch until she finally stopped on a blank one. She turned to Jayke. "And may I draw you?"

"Sure," Jayke responded slowly, curious. "I'm a human. You haven't seen any like me before?"

"Human." She said slowly, contrasting her darting eyes and quick hand. She looked at him piercingly, noting every edge and curve. She noted Jayke staring oddly at her hands which moved despite her attention being fully on him. "I cannot in faith say that I have ever seen one of your kind before. Are your people perhaps naturally curious?" She quipped turning back to her drawing. She rubbed sharp charcoal lines until they became curves, shadows, and details.

"Oh, sorry." Jayke stepped back but she waved him closer. He peeked. "Woah, that's really good." It was, but from Jayke's perspective, it was flipped upside down. He could only note the detail and realism she had accomplished in the short time it took them to talk.

"As are most of my drawings. A perk of my Class. [Fantastic Sketch]." She responded in kind, then twirled the entire sketch towards him.

What stared back at him in a rendition done in black and white was him. Almost too real, peering out of the page. A man of average height and build. The tilt of the head indicated curiosity, and the eyes seemed alive and wandering, like they could unwind the workings of the universe. Cargo pants that, even in black and white, were easily distinguishable as stained. If the drawing were in motion, he'd say the man in the frame was only moments away from catching himself staring and turning away. It was, of course, Jayke Cipher, in perfect clarity.

"[Fantastic Sketch]? Is that a Skill? It's beautiful." Jayke mumbled, realizing his pants were still stained red with both blood and berry. "It's like looking in a mirror." He also realized that people hadn't cared.

"Thank you, stranger." She said, finishing and ready to conduct business. "I am Chee. What brings you to my shop?"

"Books." Jayke turned, joking. "Knowledge. Or both."

"As do most who come by." Chee closed her sketchbook with a whump and a long pink tail came up and wrapped around it. Her hands seemed to touch and feel everything as she moved, her tail finally sliding the sketchbook in a place entirely different from where she had pulled it from. She stared at her bookshelves preoccupied with her own tasks until Jayke realized the implied question.

He roamed the bookshelves with his eyes and answered. "I am looking for general books on the topics of Skills, magic, history, and geography."

Chee seemed to perk at this, shaken from her odd organizational system. "Humm." She twiddled a whisker. "I have nothing so general on these subjects. Geography, yes, but of here? No. Magic books? No. Books on magic? Yes. Skillbooks? No. Books on Skills? Yes, I may have something good. History? Yes. Reliable? No." She rattled. "Yes?"

She stared at Jayke. His mind parsed the sentence with ease. "Show me what you have regarding Skills and magic." He replied with such speed that Chee seemed surprised in a fashion that might hint she took pleasure in leaving her customers a step behind.

"Are you perhaps a [Scholar], stranger?" She chimed curiously, whiskers twitching in focus. She had fallen to all fours but tilted her head upwards in askance. Her sinuous pink tail moved of its own accord reaching for several books. "Your mind seems very sharp. It is a sense I have."

"Ah, Jayke is fine." He responded. Thinking on the question, he wondered if the scope of his studies qualified him as worldly, in the sense of the academic. He judged that it might. "I am a [Scholar], in a way."

"A studied [Mage] or [Wizard] then?" She prodded standing up in her curiosity. Her tail had pulled yet another book and her hands slowed as Jayke became the center of her attention. "You have the look of it, I think. I feel it."

"Are your people the curious sort, then?" Jayke smiled, but perhaps the shadshin took it the wrong way. Her eyes darted immediately to his teeth, which if proven similar to those in the sketch, were nice and white.

She humbled herself. "Ah, I have overstepped. Please, the books. Peruse them at your leisure." She presented three decent stacks of them. Her tail came over her shoulder and pointed to the first. "Skills." Then the second. "Magic." Then the third. "Both."

"Thank you." He said, bringing his expression to neutral. "And you did not overstep. That is a human's way of showing wryness."

Chee slowed at his remark, then began to pick up her speed again, nodding. "Good. Good. I would not want to lose a customer. Though it is a good reminder, I cannot prod everyone who walks through those flaps, eventually one would take offense. Please, please, peruse, peruse. Do not let me disturb you, less you seek to barter." She followed the end of her sentence with a singing chatter that Jayke realized might've been a laugh.

His hands found smooth leather once he was left to his own devices. Inscribed upon which, a delicate filigree. The Origins of Skills and Abilities. Below the title, more words. The Untethered Tomes. A group perhaps? Or a series? Jayke's interest was piqued and he cracked open the book.

He could read it, to his surprise. The shop was quiet and so he spoke over his shoulder, not one to miss the acute attention of the shadshin present. "What language do you call this? I might know it as something else."

"That is written Common." Came the quick reply.

As it turned out, The Origins of Skills and Abilities, was the most comprehensive. Most of the stack focused on the workings of a particular Skill or set of Skills. Most of it was theory, so it looked like the initial book was his best bet. While the rest were speculation and opinionated, the first was simply an amusing perspective on the workings of all Skills and served as an in-depth and educated perspective. To Jayke, it was easy reading.

He read an excerpt.

A Skill is an ability. Perhaps there is a better way to describe it, as those terms are nearly interchangeable. A Skill is the capability to do something. It is a powerful tool. One that can produce any number of effects that, to this day, and however far into the future you are reading this, are still being discovered. My mind blanks for an example, which only attests to the sheer number of even basic Skills. Take [Perfect Posture], this one does exactly as it states wherein whoever possesses it holds their body perfectly. Useful for a [High Noble] in a social setting wouldn't you think? Here lies the wonder of Skills; a [Bladesmaster], for example, might make much better use of such a Skill considering the strict adherence to martial discipline and stances. Usually, a Skill is inherently tied to a Class though often they appear throughout a number of unrelated Classes. It has, however, been proven that Skills can be obtained without a Class that is even mildly relatable, though these appear to be more difficult to acquire. Tested too, I haven't met a Classless individual in decades, at least none that were not children.

"Interesting." He mumbled. He'd have to do some reading when he returned to his [Safehaven].

He placed The Origins of Skills and Abilities aside and plucked one from the next stack. Reading the titles and initial pages, only one really caught his attention.

The Feel of Magic by one Coby Tuuli.

Jayke perused the writing finding Tuuli to be both educated and relatable, as curious and eager to learn as the reader. From the writing, it was clear whoever the author was, enjoyed the process. He was enthusiastic and informative. Jayke liked him.

He finished the introduction and read from the first chapter.

Ah, to come to the how of it all. As a traveled man capable of small magic I can confidently assure you all that magic is a large load of mimic slime. Yes, you read that correctly. As you all, obviously, are unaware, a mimic slime's properties change depending on the individual, as in the slime will likely be something different towards each person, and with that, its texture changes, its properties changes and yes, its feel changes. Now to come back to magic, in truth, I have heard many accounts and it seems there are many ways for any one person to access great magic. Emotion is a prevalent one. Rituals and chants as well. Sigils and symbols, of course. Others are more strange. Belief in some cases, or simply instinct in the case of you magicfaring folks. I was indeed able to find one static variable through all these testimonies. Desire. A very strong one.

"Can't tell the last time I desired to code." Jayke mumbled, too quiet for Chee to hear. "Though desiring to protect my ass from scorpion dogs and lions is, admittedly, easier."

He itched to test his [Protection Magic] once more but found it prudent not to release any magic in company. He relented, calming his hands and reaching for the next pile.

The third, those books regarding both Skills and magic.

It consisted of books centered on singular magic Skills. [Flame Lance], [Mana Sight], [Mage Hand]. And so forth. Jayke didn't find a single Skill that encompassed an entire magic. Similar to [Fantastic Sketch] they were all singular capabilities. Frowning, he picked at random and began flipping through.

He closed the book meditating on what he learned. He jerked as a heavy thump hit the tent walls not far from him.

The wind picked up outside, thumping against the fabric of the tent. The books, thankfully, were undisturbed through the howling. The flaps of the tent burst open but Chee was there a moment after, tying them down. But not before a blast of gritty sand found its way inside.

"Ah! Pesky sand!" She squeaked. She made a weak attempt to wipe at the fine layer of dust but instead stared outside. "Humm, it may be a sandstorm then!" She called to me.

A sandstorm? Jayke placed the books he wanted in a pile before he rushed over to the entrance. Chee allowed him a view and he had a front-row seat of massive worm erupting from the middle of the street. Screams. He'd been hearing screams drowned out by the gritty howling sand. Immediately, his posture changed and he fell back into an awareness he was very familiar with.

"That's not good." He whispered, ducking inside.

Chee was wide-eyed behind him, whiskers twitching violently. Somehow, the panic was amusing. Like staring at himself back in the day.

Chee squeaked frantically, hands and feet running over her entire tent. Somehow, she'd managed to traverse bookshelf and table easily, crawling around like it was some kind of nest. "All of my things. All of my things. Where? Where?" She said panicked. "You!" She said suddenly, grabbing a book. Jayke was sure she was indicating him too.

Jayke peered outside, no stranger to danger. The worm was large, serrated. The color of sand. It must've been a few meters wide at least, and from its base, it stretched higher than a building. Its head was an open mouth. And it dived into the sand in a blast of powder, causing its body to follow through, slicing through anything and anyone it managed to cut through. Multiple myconids ran frantically, but they were easily buffeted by the sandstorm. Dwei suddenly were among the worm, a group of them, cut open and bleeding bereft of their natural camouflage. Fleeing.

"This one!"

Jayke turned and Chee was holding a sketchbook up to his face. Two pages. Two worms. Colored this time.

"Which one? Which one, stranger? One is bad, the other worse." She skittered about in place, her tail holding the book perfectly stable. She peeked outside but couldn't see the worm, it had long burrowed into the sand.

He locked onto the correct picture near instantly. Odd creatures were his forte and memorizing features more so. He did recall the brown streaks on the sides of the worm, the jagged maw that lined its head and the sharp appendages held close to its body. The other was too thin, its mouth was different, its head, more conventionally, an actual head. Similar though, if you never got a look at the head.

"This one." He tapped the picture, staring out the flaps once more. It was nervewracking without surveillance cameras. Much too close to the action for his comfort. He spotted a large blur in the sandstorm and hoped the dwei got away safely.

"Not good. Not good." Chee spoke, her fur standing on end. She stilled immediately, the behavior so odd it captured Jayke's attention for a single moment. "It detects motion. Movement. The sandstorm blinds the [Guards]. Too many myconid [Guards] blind, and only a few dwei."

Jayke froze the moment she mentioned motion detection. He'd seen that type of sensory organ at work in many demons during his time at the facility. They were uncanny in detecting deployed defenses. Scarily so.

"Good. Do not move, stranger." She said quietly, noticing his sudden stiffness. "You may get your books yet."

The howling sandstorm became relatively quiet. Screams ceased. For minutes on end, there was nothing but the loud, constant whump of sand and wind against the heavy fabric of the tent's walls. For minutes more neither Chee nor Jayke dared move.

Unmistakably, he felt something pass beneath him.