Inside the room Azrael looked at Amelia. She was sitting as far away as was politely possible, one hand protecting her wrist. He grimaced.

“I apologise for earlier” he said.

She simply gave a terse nod. He wasn’t sure whether she was accepting his apology, or if she was simply acknowledging his words. Either way he had questions. Zen’s reveal still left him feeling a bit shocked though.

He decided to start with an easy one.

“How much do you know about players?” he asked. Depending on that he would have to see how to phrase his questions. He’d never tried revealing the fact that this was all a game to a NPC, but he was sure that the game had some restrictions in place to stop that from happening. He wondered how Zen had gotten around such a restriction. Amelia’s next words explained it.

“Zen has told me that the Chosen, or players as you call yourselves have a form of astral travel, which allows you to be in another plane of reality, while your body is still here. In this plane you can share and find information from other players around the world, without having to meet them.”

Azrael looked at the secretary, impressed. Zen had actually managed to find a decent way to explain logging on and off. He had to give the man credit, where it’s due. He nodded to Amelia.

“Good enough. Now, Zen said you could help me with information of skills, magic and other stuff. Give me a quick run through.”

Amelia’s demeanour immediately changed. Giving information was her job afterall.

“Skills. Skills develop based on things you do. This can be anything, from crafting to fighting, cooking, brewing, anything. Even sleeping. There are records of a sleeping shaman who cast spells, depending on what position he slept in.”

Azrael waved his hand.

“Not necessary. Keep it short. Is there a skill limit?”

“A limit on a skill, or a limit on the number of skills you can possess?”

“Both”

“To date neither are known to have hard limits. A person may have as many skills as they can learn and their skills can progress to godly heights. However, there are still soft limits on skills. It’s…” She paused “Let me try it differently. All people have something called intent. When people are born they have pure intent, like soft clay, it is mouldable. As they progress in life and grow older their intent solidifies. It gains a defined form. Zen likes to call these ‘classes’, though we call them professions. A person’s actions mould intent, until they form classes. Skills are small details in these classes. Since intent has no measurable size, the number of skills you can posses if theoretically endless. However, once your intent gains definition, it become harder to change, or learn skills from other professions. A child might have an easier time learning cooking, archery, weaving and alchemy. But a veteran archer will have a harder time learning swordsmanship and an even harder time to learn magic, as his intent has not formed that way, though reinforcing a sword with magic will naturally be easier than trying to shoot a fireball for them. If your intent is defined, then it becomes harder to learn the skills from other professions. This holds true for crafting and combat skills, but also magic. The things you players call magic ‘affinities’ are nothing more than a person’s own idea subconscious idea of magic. Every mage, shaman and magic caster is drawn to a subconscious idea of the ‘ideal’ magic. This manifests itself as ‘affinities’. A healer wishes to heal, a shaman likes to prepare their magics beforehand with rituals and talismans and a mage draws directly from the natural energies. From there, every mage will have a preferred element, that they perceive as the strongest and most useful. Their intent will then shift to represent that, boosting their prowess of that element, at the cost of others.”

Azrael nodded. That actually made sense. It worked in with his earliest theory of action, effort and intent. What you did, how often you did it and what you believed it would do.

“What about skill levels? You mentioned them.”

“Well, we haven’t actually managed to find a way of measuring skills, but all masters of their crafts will experience a bottleneck in their skill, where their skill progress slows down incredibly and practically comes to a halt. Naturally, all skills will slow down in leveling, the higher the level gets. Eventually this will actually force the skill to a stop, unless the person experiences something great. This push past the barrier is what we call an ‘advancement’. Zen, for example, is a first advancement archer. Passing an advancement is a sign of mastery. Without knowledge, dedication and a little luck many people never get a skill past the first advancement.”

Azrael thought back to when he’d experienced a bottleneck. He’d broken through it, by nearly losing his life in combat against the alpha shadow wolf. It seemed combat had been the push that he’d needed to advance [Mana Manipulation], [Mana Control] and [Stone Shaping] past level 25.

“How many advancements are there?” He asked.

Amelia pushed her glasses closer to her nose.

“To date only first and second advancements have been confirmed. Most people will usually gain a first advancement in their lives. Second advancements also occur, although those are more common in longer lived races, such as elves and dwarves. The elven council has a few such members. Third advancements themselves have been mentioned in rumours and legends, but they’re just that, fanciful stories, not facts. And if there is a fourth advancement, then that would be in the realm of the gods. The amount of time, luck and effort needed to get a second advancement skill is phenomenal. To pass beyond that, even if you were to focus your entire life on a singular skill, or skillset, would mean you were either a monster or a god.”

Azrael listened closely. If a first advancement was around level 25, then if he took an educated guess, then second advancements were around skill level 50. He could easily believe that gods were at the fourth advancement level. He shivered when he remembered the mere power that their presence had possessed.

“What about gods?” he asked “tell me about the gods.”

She looked at him, seemingly evaluating him, before replying.

“Fine, it’s common knowledge anyways. There are 88 higher beings. The pantheon of 72 gods, 8 primordials and 8 fallen gods.”

She finished, looking at him. He waited for more, until he realised that that was it.

“Wait? That’s it? Surely there’s more! Who are the gods? What do they do?”

She looked at him briefly, before giving out a very discrete and professional sigh. The kind which says ‘I’m not sighing at you, but could we wrap this up soon’ kind of sigh.

“Last question, I promise.”

“The gods are all higher beings of great power. Allegedly before the Ending they walked the mortal realms, bestowing gifts and granting blessings. After the Ending they shut themselves off, taking back their gifts and forsaking the mortal planes. Many still pray to them, hoping for guidance, a gift, or a blessing. Primordials are beings of greater power, though nobody is sure what they are. The written records speak of them as the progenitors of the realms, pure manifestations of elemental will.”

Azrael could believe that. The Primordial of the Void spoke more with intent than with words. It being a pure manifestation of will was not too farfetched.

“What about their names? They have them don’t they?”

He looked at Amelia pleadingly.

“Very last one, I promise.”

“Very last one” she said darkly.

If looks could kill he doubted the healers could have saved him from the slow excruciating pain that Amelia’s eyes seemed to be promising him. Fortunately, she deigned to answer his ‘last’ question.

“We call the gods by their domains, not by their names. Names have power, doubly so for a being whos existence is so defined. All the gods have a domain, or domains. These are often found in their titles. The Blacksmith, God of the Forge, is one such god. Although, he is also the patron of smiths, artisans and craftsmen. There are others, whos names are self-explanatory, such as Purity, the Goddess of Healing, Virgins and Cleansing, The Warrior, God of Combat, Weapons and Strategies. Others don’t have titles, but folk names, such as the Stormlady, Goddess of Storms, Cyclones and the Sea, or the Wild Lord to name two. Then there are others who don’t fit at all, such as Death, guide and keeper to the afterlife. Unlike the gods, the primordials do not have names, or domains. They existed before both. They are named after their elements. The Primordials of Fire, Wind, Ice and Earth are few, but there are two…” Here her voice sank to little more than a whisper “two… that were said to have existed before the rest. They have neither a name, domain, nor a physical element. They existed before all.”

“…the Void?”

“Void and Balance. Chaos and Order are better terms. Flux and Stability. They are the cycle. One is chaos, change and constant flux. The other is balance, order and stability. Void is the beginning and the end, where we come from and whence we return. Balance is what we are, what grants our realms existence and prevents reality from falling apart.”

Azrael could only sit and stare in silence, as Amelia slipped out. The implications of the last part of the conversation had him shocked. He’d spoken to the great-granddaddy of the Universe.