The following morning marked a period of change for young Riza; specifically, she was far less bored than she had been the past few days for she was given a very special, very useful gift. A slate.

The slate was a bit of smooth stone, grey in colour and somewhat small. With it was a piece of chalk, cumbly and unrefined but held itself together reasonably well enough to be used to write on the slate.

She received the slate from Belfore before he left for the day. Because she helped him in understanding English, that apparently meant he could get promoted in his organisation and so he was filled with seemingly endless goodwill towards her. Did that goodwill manifest in allowing her freedom? No, but it did actualise in many answers to pertinent questions as well as this token of his gratitude.

Originally, she had asked for it to practise the language, practise writing in it, with which he taught her a few words and simple things, but she had grown relatively bored of that in the hours and, instead, was using it to do some calculations. Some of them were somewhat pointless--such as estimating the circumference of the crater and, assuming it was roughly in the shape of a sphere, how deep it must descend. With that, she compared the number with the view she could see out of her window and concluded that whatever the fog was had to be at least a hundred metres deep--and most likely even deeper. It was a practical lake of fog!

And then, there were the more practical calculations. Well of spirit levelled up nicely over the past few days and was now providing her a 100% bonus! Or, at least it claimed to do so. The skill levelled up without her seemingly needing to do anything, so she doubted she'd be able to accelerate the pace at all, but at least deriving the formula behind the level up would spend her time doing something even moderately productive.

The first thing she had to do was track the times between level ups. The first level up was at the farm, the day before she left for this village. The next level marked the first day waking up in this house. The one after that was two days ago, and the most recent one was today. Since she didn't have to actively use essence to level the skill up, it felt somewhat safe to determine that it levelled up based on how much she regenerated.

However, working off the axiom that all skills, regardless of tier, required 100 essence to level up, that would've meant she'd level well of spirit to level 2 within five hours, which wasn't what happened. Therefore, it didn't level up based on the total amount of essence she regenerated.

So, that got her thinking; what were the reasonable ways the skill would level with? Was it using essence? She doubted it, since two-thirds of all essence she regenerated went into her stone, which was more than 100. Tackling the problem from another angle, skills levelled up by doing their purpose. Therefore, rather than total essence regenerated, could it only be the essence that well of spirit specifically gained her?

This is where the maths came in and writing down her essence regenerated per day, according to her statblock, gave her an interesting result.

Base Essence Regeneration Well of Spirit Bonus Calculated Result Corrected Calculated Result Result from Stats 500 1.2 600 580 584 500 1.4 700 660 668 500 1.6 800 740 752 500 1.8 900 820 836 500 2 1000 900 920

She wasn't sure how it didn't appear to her as odd originally, but when she first got the skill, her regeneration changed from 500 per day to 584 per day. Anyone can figure out that 20% of 500 is 100, so it should've been 600, if well of spirit multiplied her essence regeneration per day.

Which it did not.

That meant there was a different, slightly more complex calculation going on here, and she intended to find out. Her next hypothesis was that, since even with a spirit of 1, she regenerated 100 essence per day, well of spirit applied the bonus to her additional spirit regeneration. Her spirit of 21, with 1 subtracted from it interpreted as the initial 100 essence per day, gave her 20 multiplied by 20, so 400 essence regenerated per day. 400 with a bonus of 20%, in addition to her base regeneration of 100, gave her the result of 580. Closer to the true value, but still not completely accurate.

Working out the difference between the corrected calculated result and the results she'd tabulated from her stat block, the first level of well of spirit produced a difference of 4, the second 8, the third 12, and so on.

Well of Spirit (5/10)

You have 100% additional Spirit

Then inspiration struck her; the skill says she has additional spirit, not additional essence regeneration. She spat on the slate, rubbing out her workings with her clothes until just the final column remained.

Equation: 100 + 20(Spirit(Well of Spirit Bonus) -1)

Adjusted Spirit Calculated Result Result from Stats Essence Well of Spirit Regenerated 24.2 584 584 84 28.4 668 668 168 32.6 752 752 252 36.8 836 836 336 41 920 920 420

Just by moving the 1, she managed to work out the formula! And the formula was a bit strange; it subtracted the 1 after the spirit had been multiplied by well of spirit, not before. Not that she was complaining, of course--it meant she regenerated more, after all--but it certainly wasn't intuitive.

With this in mind, she could work out just how much essence well of spirit garnered her, and it actually made sense; it took her more than a day to level the skill to level 2.

Assuming that the skill leveled at the same rate as leech, that meant it needed 100 for level 2, 200 for level 3, and 300 for level 4. However, by comparing that hypothetical rate with the actual rate, it didn't match up.

To get to level 2 took as long as it should've but to get to level 3, 4, and 5 all took around twice as much time as necessary; level 3 needed roughly 400 essence regenerated, and level 4 needed roughly 600.

Just as Riza was about to begin working out how long it'd be until she maxed out the skill, she was interrupted by a few hard knocks on the door and the tall, lithe form of Belfore making his way into the building. She was already sat at the table, looking up as he placed down his heavy satchel and pulled down his hood, revealing his greying, brown hair, deep, sunken eyes, and scruffy beard.

Wrinkles marked his face and his eyes seemed perpetually tired, but within those brown irises was piercing pressure to them--the insight and knowledge contained within betraying their true depth.

He sat down wordlessly, patting himself off and taking off his dripping cloak, his robes surprisingly dry underneath.

Although, it shouldn't have been that surprising, Riza realised; cloaks were made of skin and wool of animals and skin was naturally hydrophobic.

Finally settled down, his rob hanging off another, unoccupied chair, Belfore held his hand up in the air in his customary fashion, swishing his fingers and drawing pictures for a few seconds until he stopped. Though it looked somewhat silly--in the same sense as only hearing one half of a conversation--it was clearly effective as the man promptly broke off into erratic, awkward English laced with an accent Riza couldn't quite place. It certainly wasn't hers, that was for sure.

"Practising the language?" He asked, eyeing the slate with a smile.

"I was, but this was something else," Riza replied cautiously; though he had a friendly demeanour and easily acquiesced to her requests, he was still a participant in the organisation that had her locked up and so should be treated with care.

"I'd love to discuss it with you but, unfortunately, that's not the reason for my visit," He dropped the welcoming smile, his face now far more serious. "As necessary for joining the Dominion of Skaldur, you have to disclose your level, class--if you have one--and what skills you have." Riza felt cold, the air frigid and lacking the warmth it once did, as he said those words.

"And what if I don't want to tell you that stuff?" She asked hesitantly. Her grip on her essence stone tightened.

"I'm afraid, for you, that's not an option," He began.

"Why? What if I don't want to join?" Riza interjected, her voice struggling to hide her rising anger, merely laced with annoyance.

"For violating the law regarding unlicensed use of essence manipulation, you have been taken prisoner by the Dominion. I'm aware you couldn't have known but there are rules, you see." His attempt at placating her fell a bit flat. "You can either join or be handled in a... Far less favourable way."

"How is that fair? Where's the evidence?" Riza nearly shouted, energy invigorating her voice at this injustice!

"The Watchmater is under oath to report any use of skill or essence that occurs under their scrutiny; if they say it happened, it happened." Though his tone was firm, it lacked emotion; he spoke mechanically, as if repeating a token phrase he had said many times before. "You were caught using infusing a stone with essence in the market. Even I've seen you do that numerous times already," He got out resignedly.

At first, Riza's eyes opened wide with shock, surprise rushing through her brain at the realisation that a skill she thought so inconspicuous could be seen. And then, a worldly understanding emerged; Did Renald mean to tell me that all magic can be seen; not just cleanse? She figured out that the answer was most likely 'yes', and mentally berated herself for being so stupid.

But, alas, she couldn't change the past.

"I have to join?" She finally spoke, her form slouched over and her voice quiet and wavering, as if probing for the smallest bit of hope.

"Yes," Belfore replied laconically, his tone tired.

"You need my level, class, and what skills I have? Not the level of the skills themselves?" She asked again, trying to figure out the minimal amount of information she could give him.

"Level, class, and skills. If you have any skill points you haven't spent, I need to know that as well."

"Well, I don't," Riza replied, her voice infused with spite. "I'm level 5, an acolyte of life, and-"

"You're an acolyte of life?" Belfore interrupted, voice full of impetus.

"Yes?" Riza drew out nervously, unsure whether she should've said anything.

"Okay; that's important information," He replied, scribbling it down on a piece of parchment. "Skills?" He asked, looking up. Though his body was hunched over the table, his form was still larger than hers and exuded authority.

"Leech, cleanse, reservoir stone, and well of spirit. Oh, also essence congruency."

Belfore didn't reply. The only sound that permeated the chilling silence was the scratching of his pen against parchment, the lines matte black rather than glistening and wet like ink.

"This is a very important question and you need to answer as honestly and with as much detail as you can, okay? Do any of those skills have an effect greater than what the system says they do?" His eyes were now wide and boring into her. There was a strange force behind his words, an earnest plea that tugged at her.

Should she trust him? Should she describe what each skill did? If he wanted to know what they did, he could just read the skills from the system--he'd have access to leech, cleanse, well of spirit, and essence congruency at the very least. Therefore, there was something else he was after. Implication laced his request; skills could do more than what the system said they could.

That was a fact she had experienced herself; the systems definitions were vague and the skills were flexible, leech being the foremost example that came to her mind.

Then, why was knowing this important?

"Why is this question important?"

"The Dominion, they control what skills people can learn and use when it concerns essence. However, it's not just a regulatory body; it's primary purpose is research." He leaned in close, glancing behind him both towards the shuttered window and the closed door.

"You've broken the laws and you've broken a tenet; the first would make you a prisoner but all you'd have to do then is to join and you're absolved of the crime. The latter? You need to provide some sort of value. If you have any insights into any life skill, you need to tell me." He leaned back as recognition flashed across Riza's face.

"Well..." She started, struggling to think where to begin she looked towards the same, closed window as Belfore did. The shutters slammed against the wall, the rain and wind howling outside and buffeting the house harshly. She was glad she was inside.

"I need to know; what is the fog?" The words jumbled out of her mouth like some kind of soup, pacing awkward as she just threw them out. Belfore reacted, leaning backwards suddenly before comprehending what she just said.

"You need to know?" He emphasised.

"Yes. For a skill," She replied, voice firmer as she grew confident in her thoughts.

"Firstly, it's not a 'fog'; it's a form of pure essence, as best as we can discern. Upon contact, it infiltrates your body and does irreparable harm."

"Is there a way to cure it?"

"Is this also something you need to know?" He asked sharply. Riza nodded in reply, not even wanting a movement of her head to give anything away.

"There is, but I don't know how. It's not amongst my duties to get near it."

"Cleanse and cure it," Riza responded definitively.

"Cleanse? The foundational life skill?" A somewhat incredulous look appeared on Belfore's face.

"Foundational? It's 0th tier, yes."

"0th?" Belfore asked, before shaking his head and dismissing the question. "That's useful but they probably know that already. Anything else?"

"Leech can hydrate you so you no longer need to drink, as well as healing your wounds in addition to health."

Either Belfore's lack of familiarity with the life skills showed as he wrote down what Riza said in his own language, or all this was information that the Dominion already knew, Riza reckoned.

"Anything else?" He asked once his pen finally stopped moving.

Riza took a moment to think, checking her system and how she used the skills so far before saying 'no'.

"Okay. For confirmation, your class, 'Acolyte of Life' boosts skills by a half?"

"Yes," She answered, briefly wondering how he knew that without her telling him. Maybe there were other 'acolyte' classes that gave the same bonus? That seemed more probably than the class selection she received being unique to just her.

"With that done, next is administration. To begin with, do you have a title?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Riza replied as her body seemed to relax a little.

"And you confirm that your name is Riza? That's what your system refers to you as?"

"Do you not need a surname?" She was tempted to say yes, but curiosity won out over expedition.

"If you have a family name, I'd need that as well."

"Just 'Riza' is fine," She finally relented, after failing to come up with a snappy, impressive surname on the spot. Riza was good enough, she decided.

"What's your age? It's fine if you don't know."

A brief thought flashed through her mind, thinking it was a bit of a rude question to ask with an even ruder implication. However, that was quickly drowned out with a resurging panic over the realisation that she didn't know her age. Just like with her name, she could feel her mind wrap around something but failed to grasp it, as if it was covered in a thick coating of butter.

"How would you class yourself, then; child? Young adult? Adult?" He asked, figuring that how long it was taking her probably meant that she couldn't remember.

"Young adult," Riza replied, glaring at Belfore for even suggesting she could be a child. Does she even look like a child? How preposterous a question!

"Good, good," He murmured. "Next; what's your race?"

"White?" Riza replied in a confused tone. It was a nuanced question and even if she did have a firmer background than just the colour of her flesh, that would probably raise more questions.

"No, no--I can see that you're white. I'm asking whether you're Skaldian or not?"

Instantly, Riza's mind went to fantasy--a place where race meant more than just skin colour and genotypic groups. There, fantastical, magical races could exist, like dwarves, or elves! So, he was asking if she was... Human?

That can't be right; he was using a translation spell; Skaldian was not a word she recognised, meaning it was most likely not being localised and was a concept in their culture. If it meant human, it'd be translated to human. Therefore, a Skaldian was not... Human?

That's... Less magical than she liked; Belfore looked human and acted like a human. There was nothing distinctly non-human about him. So far, the only differences she noticed was that everyone seemed tall but that could just be a phenotypic result, like how different nations have a different mean height of people living them. Nothing there was indicating anything that wasn't human.

So, how should she answer him? Should she go with her gut, assume Skaldian meant human and answer Skaldian? Or should she reply honestly and call herself a human, confusion be damned?

"I'm human," She replied with trepidation. Rational thought won over; there was probably a reason why the system didn't consider Skaldian and humans to be the same thing.

Where did they diverge? Were they still a part of the same genus? Neanderthals and Homo Sapiens could breed together although they were different species; Skaldians look closer to Homo Sapiens than Neanderthals did so she figured that they were most like just a different species but still a part of the Homo genus. Homo Skaldian?

Belfore didn't respond, merely looking her over with interest before writing down her answer.

"Finally, do you have a place of residence? A lord that presides over you?"

Riza shook her head, indicating her statelessness.

"Not this village?"

"Is living here for less than a week enough to make me a citizen or do I have to apply for that?" She asked, chuckling to herself while Belfore looked a tad confused.

"Do you live here?"

"No. The closest place to a home was that forest in the caldera," Riza replied.

"You're from Liefshill?" She shrugged. "Are there other 'humans' there as well?" His unexpectedly serious tone struck down her lightheartedness as she was prompted to think about the question.

"I doubt it." She didn't think for long.

"I'll put Liefshill down."

By now, the whole sheet of parchment was filled with ink, characters written neatly and elegantly but utterly alien as well. She managed to spot her name, at least, written in the only recognisable symbols on the page.

With that finally done, he quickly rolled up the piece of parchment, binding it with some string--with such a fancy pen, he didn't even need to wait for the ink to dry. As he tucked that into the bag, he procured another scroll. This one, however, was much fancier and finer; it's edges were neat and smooth, without errant cuttings or marks or scratches. It was tied with a purple dyed ribbon and the parchment was whiter than the one he was just writing on.

As he unfurled this one, its weight heavier than she expected, it laid flat on the table without curling upwards. With both hands free, Belfore danced his fingers around gracefully, as if orchestrating a symphony, as presumably a long and complex skill was being used.

The scroll shifted slightly, as if a gust of air had just rushed by, but looked otherwise unchanged.

The window was closed but there was a heavy and violent storm raging outside--a brief bit of wind wasn't strange; she could feel her hair move slightly at times. However, no matter how rational she thought about it, there was a part of her mind that dragged her attention to the scroll. She couldn't explain it--it was like nothing she had felt before--but she struggled to take her eyes away from it. Even if she closed her eyes, didn't physically look at it, she could still feel its presence in front of her. It was strong enough she believed she'd be able to locate it blind if needed.

"This, is a contract," Belfore stated, emphasis on contract exemplifying its importance. Riza reasoned that whatever this scroll was, it was magical.

"You need to sign this with your name," He continued laconically, sliding the contract over towards Riza.

Rather surprisingly, she could read! Her literacy wasn't a surprise itself but the language the scroll was written in was--English. Was that what the magic was? A translation skill?

There were many unfamiliar words, even when translated, and terms and conditions that she felt were meant to confuse her. However, by the end of it, she felt like she understood what the contract was about; Servitude.

There were no explicit terms detailing how she was signing away her rights (or, what she assumed--and hoped--were her rights) but there were terms that stated what the Dominion would henceforth control; such as her place of residence, where she worked, her duties in the Dominion, and anything to do with her system.

"I have to sign this?" Riza asked with a forlorn voice.

"Yes. There is no better option," Belfore replied with finality.

What choice did she have? She could try to escape, but by now, she knew her house to be guarded, the village infested with people who'd be out to get her, and Belfore was the first obstacle in her way.

Reluctance seeping through her entire body, she lifted up the pen like it was the heaviest thing in the world, and pressed down hard to write her name. Her letters were crooked, uneven, and irregular, but they read 'Riza' plainly.

She expected lights, maybe more wind, but nothing happened. Just like signing any other contract, her name was written down mundanely, and she passed the contract back to Belfore.

As he packed his things away, prepared for his departure, he took one, long, hard look at Riza.

"I'm sorry this had to happen," He said, his voice heavy and sombre.

With that, he left, leaving Riza, once again, alone.

She didn't move. Didn't pick up her slate to resume writing or working something out. She felt enervated, her body tired and unresponsive.

Riza blinked once. Then twice, eyes squinting as moisture accumulated. She sniffed, rubbing her nose on her sleeve as her cheeks began to wetten.

Slouched over, her head fell against the table, her hair a mess, as she was coming to terms with what she had done. What she had just signed.

Strong sniffles could be heard in the room as she clamped her eyes shut and curled her hands up into fists. The essence stone, held in her right hand, felt smaller than ever.

This world is fucked.