I was knocked off my feet by a staff strike to the chest.

The “staff” could have easily passed for a pillar. When I tried to lift it, I was barely able to get it off the rack, and my fingers barely wrapped around half its width. Even with my arcane shield, I would have been bloody mush if the female officer hadn’t been holding back.

“Again,” Sergeant Talith said.

I groaned as I stood, “You could have given me some warning that time.”

“A true warrior,” she growled, “is always alert. If you want warnings, then you should hide with the other men behind your books and ledgers.”

She struck at me once more, and I hit the ground with a thud. I gasped as the wind was driven from my lungs. The red skinned alien stood over me, and I couldn’t help noting a look of satisfaction on her face.

The giant Peacekeeper had been assigned to train me during my stay. No one would answer when I asked how long that stay would be. I suspected the training was just an excuse for them to keep an eye on me.

Sergeant Talith was the same race as Sebbit, and he wasn’t kidding when he said that the females of his species were larger. The best word to describe her was spindly. She was tall and lithe, easily topping eight feet. This gave her an incredible reach and flexibility and the narrowness of her limbs in no way impacted her strength.

My aching chest confirmed her prowess.

My analyze skill didn't work against peacekeepers, so I was unable to get a feel for how strong the sergeant was - only that she vastly outclassed me.

Not used to waiting, Talith reached down and dragged me to my feet by the collar of my loaner uniform.

“Again,” she said.

I was fed up with her bullying. I was tired, and hungry. Not a good combination for my mood. I kicked up a cloud of dust and began my attack.

I aimed my staff at her chest, expecting her parry. She blocked my attack, reversing her parry into a massive horizontal swing. I rolled, activating my arcane shield as I went.

I was launched into a concrete wall, a cloud of grey dust falling over me. The single hit had eaten away half of my mana, but it had also removed me from her striking range.

“Venom Spray,” I mentally commanded. A thin spray of viscous green liquid shot from my outstretched hand, but Talith was easily able to block most of the venom by spinning her massive staff. Small droplets fell onto her uniform, but the material showed no signs of succumbing to the venom’s corrosive effects.

While her vision was blocked, I cast arcane missile twice in rapid succession. I had leveled the skill to its third level, gaining a second missile per cast. Talith was able to deflect most of the missiles, which again failed to live up to the promise of be ‘unerring.’ One of the spheres, however, was able to strike the giantess in the midsection.

My face twisted into a satisfied grin as I heard a small grunt of pain. I immediately regretted feeling smug when she pulled out a small revolver and shot me twice in the chest. I fell into the dirt and felt a staff pressed against my throat.

I felt at my chest but was relieved to find no blood. The Peacekeeper jumpsuits seemed nearly indestructible, but I knew it would do nothing to stop my ribs from bruising.

“Good,” Talith said “You are beginning to understand.”

“Understand what? You fucking shot me!”

“Roles, Mr. Finn,” She said. “You are beginning to understand roles. You use magic, I use the tools of a soldier.” She walked across the arena and placed her staff into a display rack, before continuing.

“Do you know why most citizens of the Hegemony never receive a class, despite the fact that it gives a massive increase in power and is available to all?”

“Laziness?” I quipped. “Long lines at the DMV?”

“It is not ‘laziness’ or lack of desire. No, most citizens never receive a class because it is binding, restricting. You are a mage, yes?”

She didn’t wait for me to respond. “A mage, spellcasters of all stripes, are weak. The most powerful mage in the Hegemony could not survive a single minute in combat with me without resorting to spells. Do you know why that is?”

“Specialization,” I immediately said, slowly rising to my feet.

“If a mage spends the time,” I continued, “to improve their magic to such a high level they must have neglected training in other areas. Someone who had trained exclusively in hand-to-hand combat, a red skinned devil masquerading as a soldier for instance, would dominate the mage, but only if the mage was restricted to only using hand-to-hand combat.”

“Good,” my she said. “But it is not just this, many disciplines exist, and many mages also practice martial paths. It is the class, and the system supported by the Hegemony.

“The class defines us, makes us more of what we are and a little less of everything else. Theoretically, I can still learn magic or the sword, but my class focuses on the use of a staff, specifically to defend. Any skills related to the concept encapsulated by a class will level faster, the more specific the concept behind the class the more powerful this effect is.

“I even have trouble learning mundane tasks. I am not a cook, so my being cries out at any attempt to become one. I can only be one thing, and the better I am at being what I am the more powerful I will become.

“Specialization will make you powerful. You must find one thing, and do it well, better than anyone else. A class will start you on that path, but you must hold the desire inside of you. You must become a mage, in your heart. Or a spearman, a vanguard, defender, or any of a million classes.”

“Aren’t there classes that specialize in being jacks of all trades, so to speak?” I asked.

“There are, yes Mr. Finn. Adventurers, Factotum, and a myriad of others. They are popular, but none could stand before the pureness of my staff-skills.

"Even the monsters that ravage your world, the Old Ones and Elder Gods, great evils infecting our universe? They encapsulate a concept, they become it. That is what it means to be a god, Mr. Finn. A god is the very essence of a single concept, made incarnate. As long as the concept exists they cannot be truly killed.”

“And Kyr ...,” I began. “Er, Crimson Hunter of the Void? What is he?”

“Madness, Mr. Finn. Madness made incarnate, he doesn’t only consume minds he twists them and takes great pleasure in manipulating others. In some ways he is one of the most dangerous of all the Old Ones. Many are more powerful, but none as insidious.”

We waited in silence for several seconds, before Talith grabbed her staff and rushed forward. I looked up at the afternoon sky, for a moment I thought I saw stars.

“Again.”

***

Hours later I was laying on a cot in the small Spartan room the Peacekeepers had given me. Next to the bed was a small desk and a stool with no back. I had a small recess in the wall that could be opened or closed with a sliding panel, this is where I kept the clothes and boots I had been given. Also tucked in the cubby was a short, collapsible staff in a black leather sheath, a gift from Talith. These items, and my brown leather jacket, were currently my only possessions.

Despite her caution to focus on a single ‘role,’ Talith had given me a well-rounded course in martial weaponry. She insisted I learn all the basic weapons and then focus on the one that suited my style best, something she said would benefit even a ‘mage’ like myself. She ignored my protests at the title.

We had been training for roughly a week before she declared our training over. I wasn’t “fit to lick the boots of a proper Peacekeeper recruit” but at least I might not die immediately to a low-level monster. Apparently, that was her benchmark for success.

As we ended our final session the old sergeant grinned and warned me that I might have a “new teacher.” The thought seemed to give her great pleasure, and she continued to smile as she watched me leave the small training arena.

Despite Talith’s criticism, I had a feeling that I was learning skills much more quickly than I should have been. This was possibly due to my high intellect stat combined with the Adaptive Learning feat. I could improve my skills simply by watching others fight, especially when those skills were used on me. Generally, in a painful and violent manner.

My gains had been significant, and I had leveled skills much more quickly than I would have without training. I had been trained in all the standard weaponry of the Peacekeepers, the rifle, sword, and staff; raising feats for each to the third level.

My Arcane Shield skill increased to its third rank, and arcane missile, and venom spray were each at the third rank as well. This gave me a solid nineteen FP, but I had held out on spending them.

I had gained access to a few new feats in the feat store, such as the Swordsman or Staff Defense feat. Each focusing on a particular style of combat. None of these drew my eye, however.

I had decided to save my FP until I could purchase Inspiration in one swoop. The lack of a description continued to be an annoyance, but the inflated cost gave me hope for the feat’s usefulness. So far, the feats seemed to exist on a tier list, with higher tier feats costing more to unlock. At least, I hoped. Nothing gambled, nothing gained.

While I was wondering how I might gain the remaining FP, I decided to go all in. I’d spend the points I had now and hope for the best. They were useless just sitting there.

I wasn’t expecting any notifications, so I was overjoyed when a status screen appeared after I’d placed fifteen points into Inspiration.

Congratulations! The inspiration you seek still lies outside your grasp. Despite this failure, the journey of discovery has not been in vain. The fleeting glimpses of inspiration you have grasped have opened your mind to the connection between mind and body. +4 Intellect. New feat(s) learned – Mind Over Body ®.

Mind Over Body ® - You have ignored the advancement of the body, focusing on pursuits of the mind. Despite this you have not shied away from battle. During a rare moment of inspiration, you understood that the body is only as strong as the mind that controls it. Physical limits can be broken, if the mind is strong enough. 10% of Intellect will be added to Might.

This… this was exactly what I needed. I could follow Talith’s advice to ‘specialize’ without leaving myself physically weak. I would never be a tank, but perhaps a glass cannon made from slightly less fragile glass?

I mentally opened my ‘stats’ feeling a warm glow as I examined them.

Augustus Finn

Class: N/A

Level: 1

Stamina (r/ per second): 21/21 (0.175)

Mana (r/ per minute): 49/49 (1.633)

Might: 10

Agility: 6

Reaction: 6

Intellect: 22

Perception: 10

Focus: 5

Phys. Resist: 2

Mag. Resist: 1

My list of skills and feats was also starting to look rather robust. I wondered how I would fare against most level ones? Surely this bumped me up at least a level or two in the ratings. I wouldn’t know, however, until I had experienced the benefits of a class for myself.

I immediately cast away any feelings of superiority. This felt powerful, but how would it really compare to those individuals brought up in the Hegemony and given the benefit of generations of meta-knowledge?

I drifted to sleep, properly abashed, but still with a smile on my face.