With my morality having undergone a shift in priorities, the rest of the matches were fairly easy. To be clear, this had little, if not nothing, to do with my skills as a fighter. When you are twice as strong, fast, and perceive time quicker than everyone else, it makes things a little easier. The situation would be much different once everyone received their classes, so I enjoyed this moment of being head honcho.

I received first place; my last fight taking a solid thirteen seconds. My strategy after talking with Amanda and Mr. Murdock was simple. Punch everyone into a different dimension, and if they were blocking my damage enough that I would run out of time before they hit zero, I would simply drag their ass to the edge of the arena and toss them out like an unruly drunk at a bar. It wasn’t pretty, but I didn’t really give a shit. A win was a win.

Since everyone’s health was the same, it was easy to do some quick math to determine if the amount of damage I was doing would be enough after 15-18 seconds. My clean hits would do anywhere from 10-20 damage per shot, depending on which part of the body I hit. Blocking my blows would range from 4-7 damage per hit. People who blocked were the easiest. I would just whale on them. The people who dodged at the beginning, like Amanda, would require the bouncer strategy.

This seemed like a lot of damage for unarmed strikes, but Mr. Murdock assured me this was due to us being unarmored, classless, and at level one. Unless you were a Monk or some other variant of unarmed fighter, it was essentially useless later in real combat.

Amanda, unsurprisingly, made it to the top ten before losing out to the guy I fought in the final round. Carter had a string of bad luck and faced two opponents who were in the final five, which was unfortunate.

After I had won, I was told I would receive my prize after my class was selected. It wouldn’t make a lot of sense to give me an agility-based weapon if I was a Barbarian or Warrior type class.

The next few days flew by. More training, more lessons, and more reading. I attempted a few more weapon types, with no luck. I asked about crafting but was told that they do not teach that here. I would have to ask a grandmaster to take me under his tutelage or attend a school dedicated to the profession. If my class was not magic based, it was still possible to become a crafter, but it was more difficult, and most could not come close to achieving what a class dedicated to the art could do.

Mr. Murdock explained to me that the night before one's class was to be decided, many experienced symptoms. They varied greatly, based on the class. Some experienced bizarre dreams, while others intense pain and headaches. These would occur while we slept, often in the form of dreams. He said that researchers concluded that this better prepared the mind for the influx of information at leveling. People typically level up to three, and sometimes, up to five. Since I had won the tournament, he explained he wouldn’t be surprised if I was one of the few who achieved the higher levels.

I just couldn’t shut my mind off. My plans could look radically different depending on what class I became, and the unknown caused me extreme unease. I’ve never been a risk taker, and my personality is usually very peaceful and non-confrontational. That's something I’d likely have to get over in the coming months, because this world doesn’t seem to smile upon the passive and weak.

Sleep came, albeit slowly. I found myself on a cliff face, overlooking an ocean. A field of grass stretched behind me. The sound of the water crashing against the rock was filled in by the sea breeze rustling the grass. A figure walked toward me through the grasslands.

She had long, flowing black hair with natural waviness. Her eyes were white and glowing, with no discernible pupil or iris. She wore a thin baby blue dress that left her shoulders bare. It exposed one leg completely while the fabric was tossed by the breeze.

An immense pressure radiated off her. I was having trouble breathing, or even standing. My legs felt weak, and my body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

“Hello, Vince.”

Her voice rang in my ears like music. She talked softly, her tenor almost prepubescent in pitch. It was as innocent sounding as I had ever heard. Which was in stark contrast to the pressure she gave off. Somehow, I kept standing, and locked my eyes onto hers… or whatever she had going for eyes.

“Hello, Goddess.” Presumptuous, yes, but I rather air on the side of respect in dealing with something that looked like her, and be wrong, than greet informally and be incorrect in that regard.

She smiled. “Good guess.”

She stared at me. My legs had begun to shake from the weight of my body, and I could feel fear gripping me from the pressure she exuded.

If this is a test of my will, I can’t fail. I’m not letting something come into MY dream and make me kneel in front of her. Nope. The time of me being passive is done. I won’t break. I won’t.

Reaffirming my resolve, with Mr. Murdock’s words echoing in the back of my mind, I stood firm.

She approached and gently clasped my face in her hands. With her eyes closed, she let out a hum in curiosity. She opened her eyes and cocked her head.

“So, you remember everything from Earth?”

My eyes widened before I schooled them. “I do.” I replied evenly.

“I see…” She trailed off and released my face. Walking around me, she gandered like I was a prized stallion she was interested in purchasing.

Suck in my gut, back straight, shoulders back.

Sweat trickled down my forehead as she made a few laps, her unrelenting force still causing me extreme discomfort. Right when I thought I could last much longer, relief washed over me. The pressure was gone in an instant.

“Would you care to know how many sentients have resisted my aura?” she asked. Her tone was neutral, so I couldn’t tell if she was impressed, or pissed off.

I bowed my head slightly in respect. “If you desire.”

She scoffed. “If I desire.” She repeated in a mock tone. “The answer, Vince, would be none.” She walked away. I had made my bed, so I would wait and see how it panned out. She turned back after a moment, smiling. “I knew I chose right.”

Phew.

“In my studies, I’m not sure I have seen your visage anywhere. May I ask who you are?”

I was speaking as formal and typical fantasy trope as I could. I’ve played enough games and heard the instructors talk enough to know I should be careful in this type of situation.

“Penelope - Goddess of Magic” She smirked, knowing what kind of reaction that would get out of me.

I took a deep breath. “So… I have a magic class?” I asked.

“You do.”

Another deep breath, and I thought for a second. A god dedicated to crafting existed. I wasn’t sure if a magical crafter would be in his neck of the woods, or hers.

“Am I a crafter?” I asked.

“You are not.”

Really giving me a lot of information here.

“A wizard then.” I said, exhaling my breath as I said it.

“No.” The smirk never leaving her face.

She is enjoying this game

I thought about the different classes I had learned about, specifically the ones dealing with magic. We went through a few more no responses before I finally I blurted in frustration.

“Why don’t you just tell me already!?”

The smirk left her face. “Do not raise your voice at me, sentient, it is unbecoming of a sorcerer.”

When she said the word Sorcerer, it vibrated throughout my bones. That single word, that I heard many times, resonated as the truest word I had ever heard. It was me, and I, it. There was little doubt in my mind. I was a Sorcerer.

I remember reading about Wizards in the book about the magic in Laria, but could not recall anything about them.

“I don’t remember learning about that class in any of my studies thus far,” I said.

“Nor would you.” She motioned for me to follow as we made our way to the cliff face. With a gesture, stone rose from the ground and took shape of a small bench. She gestured for me to sit, and she made herself an identical bench a few feet away from me.

“Tell me” she continued, “Do you remember reading anything about all powerful wizards that were able to cast without the help of an arcane book?”

“Yes, of course,” I answered. “There were several throughout history, but their names escape me.”

“The names are of no importance, but, those individuals were Sorcerers. They are the embodiment of magic.”

“There are… well, there are games like that in my world that have some similarities to what you describe.”

I was of course referring to Dungeon and Dragons, where wizards had access to a wide range of spells, but they were more spell weavers than conjurers of the magic within themselves. They could wield it, but they themselves did not embody the magic from within. Sorcerers, on the contrary, were that exact thing. I explained this to her, and she nodded.

“Yes, what you say is similar to what occurs here.”

This caused me some grief. Anyone who plays D&D knows that sorcerers suck in power when compared to the DPS and wide range of spell selection wizards have. When I expressed my concern over this, I was greeted with a laugh.

“The comparison to Earth’s game ends there, luckily for you. Having spells originate from your own mana offers you significant advantages over being restricted to arcane words from a book.” She stood from her bench and a Fireball appeared in her right hand.

Holy crap! Fireball! She’s casting magic!

I calmed down my inner nerd and told it to take a chill pill and observe. She threw the Fireball out toward the ocean, where it traveled roughly one hundred feet before creating a small explosion.

“That was your generic Fireball spell. You have seen this before in your games from Earth, correct?” she asked. I nodded in affirmative.

“Now.” She began to cast again. “Observe.”

She must have casted over a dozen times. The fireball grew, then the next spell, shrank. It maneuvered in the air as if guided by her will. Its color became light blue. The heat could be felt even as it sailed away into the emptiness. The ball of flame split into two smaller ones about halfway out from her hand.

Another time the spell conjured in her hand instantly, rather than accumulating for a second before being released. One after another, examples of the same spell being casted in different ways was shown to me.

“You may have access to fewer spells,” she continued, “but I think it’s clear where the advantage lies.”

“I understand. Thank you for the lesson.” I bowed my head in respect.

She offered a pleasant laugh. “I’m limited on what I can explain to you.” She motioned with her hands out to the sea. “Showing you, though.” She giggled lightly. “A minor loophole.”

I let out a raspberry. “Gods have rules here?” I tried to keep my tone from betraying skepticism.

“We all do.” Her voice gave nothing away.

Silence lingered over us before I asked two questions I wanted answered more than any others.

“Are you going to erase my memories?”

She paused before answering. “No.”

Short and sweet, no elaboration. I’ll take it.

“Is there a chance I could go home?” I continued with my second question.

“That, unfortunately, is not a question I can answer. That would be Ara’s territory.”

“Do I get to meet her?” I asked.

“Yes, once you are done asking me any questions, she will finish your class initiation process.”

I thought for a moment. “Okay, so, you said I won’t have access to an extensive pool of spells like wizards, correct?” She nodded. “Am I able to learn spells from scrolls?”

“No, you will not comprehend the arcane words needed to cast spells. Even if you were to learn to the language, speak it, and even inject your mana into it, the spell will fail and possibly backlash onto you.”

Got it. Don’t attempt spell scrolls. Backlash. Bad.

She continued. “Your spells come from within you, an innate knowledge that grows as you grow. When you leave here, you will see a map of sorts, showing you all six schools of magic, each with their first spell.” She drew into the air like a fireworks show spelling out letters. She made a circle, and added symbols I recognized as the six major spell classifications. Fire, water, earth, air, light, and dark magic. “Every sorcerer's spell list is unique. You start with one spell that costs a Spell Point. You get one Spell Point per level, and as you climb higher into a branch you gain access to greater magics with higher Spell Point costs.” She used her finger to draw off the fire magic school, branching it into two, then four, and ultimately, eight fire emblems. “,Consider this wisely before spreading yourself too thin across all six schools.”

Her point was common in most RPG games. You could become a jack of all trades spell caster, but end game content usually rewarded those who focused on one or two stats and upgraded spells/abilities they use on a regular basis.

“Do you have a recommendation for me?” I asked, hoping for some guidance on where to take my build.

“I do, but I cannot say,” she replied.

Of course you can’t. Let’s see if I can find another “loophole”.

“How do I perform the same spell with different effects like you showed me?”

“Experimentation.” She smiled. “I would, however, try experimenting in private, rather than the field of battle.” She giggled slightly. “It usually doesn’t go well the first few times.”

After asking a few more questions, pulling and teasing at finding the loophole like showing me the different spells, I received the run-around of answers. I concluded she was done offering any useful information. When I let her know I was done with my questions, she gave her parting words.

“Before Ara shows up, you will undergo certain changes related to your class.” She walked up to me and put her hand on my cheek. “It will not be pleasant. I’m sorry.” She said it sincerely, then disappeared.

I felt my internal body temperature began to rise, like the feeling of running water turning from cold to hot while you wash your hands. What started as uncomfortable morphed into unpleasant, then transformed into agony. My very bones felt hot, and my brain felt as if suffering from the worst fever in history. I collapsed to the ground and begin to shiver uncontrollably.

This heat, however, brought incredible power. I couldn’t explain it, but the pain felt beneficial, like a workout from hell. The wave of fire died down. Sweat covered my entire body. As I attempted to stand, my bones began to ache. It ramped up to pain as before, and I found myself back on the ground in the fetal position. My bones felt like they were splintering, then healing, only to splinter again.

As the throbbing of my bones began to subside, my muscle began to spasm. I could feel the actual fibers of my muscles stretching, condensing, and reshaping. I groaned to myself as I laid on the field of grass, the air only carrying my whimpers and the sound of the sea and wind.

Endure has evolved to Amateur, Tier 1!

+8 percent reduction to pain

+8 percent concentration through pain

“Fuckkk” I moaned out loud.

The fatigue of my ordeal finally began to fade. As I shook the memories away, I realized something. I. Felt. Amazing.

Class unlocked – Sorcerer

You have joined the select few who have the privilege to call themselves sorcerers! You don’t summon magic from arcane words or items, for you ARE magic.

You are now level four from experience collected during Initiation!

+5 to Mana Manipulation, +3 to Constitution, +3 to Agility

Due to your class, you have received an additional +4 to Mana Manipulation, 1+ to constitution, and +1 to agility. You have three additional points to spend on statistics. You have three Sorcery points to spend.

If that information wasn’t badass enough, the last screen was the cherry on top.

Bloodline unlocked – Ancient Magic

Your ancestry can be traced back to the first human sorcerer to inhabit Laria.

Rank 1 – Spells cost 5% less mana. This will automatically be applied when reading spell cost descriptions.

That was a lot to digest. First, I was disappointed in Endure. All of that to just jump up to the next ranking, and only to tier one? I wasn’t sure if eight percent would be enough for the future, but if I ever had to go through that transformation process again, I’m sure I would lose my mind.

Second – I wasn't sure what other classes got, and I bet it was great, but increasing my Mana Manipulation by four times was intoxicating. Using Enhance was more of a drug high, but this felt like the results of years’ worth of running and weightlifting combined into five minutes.

I ran around, testing my new speed and reflexes. I used Enhance to see if it increased my stats anymore now that my manipulation was higher, but it stayed at just the base improvement. As I was jumping up and down, moving side to side throwing up a Heisman football pose, I saw a woman starring at me. I recognized her instantly–Ara.

She looked identical to the symbol on my uniform, with her flowing dress seductively sliding off her shoulders. Its material was see-through, showing off her physique. Her eyes were brown, unlike her goddess counterpart with the glowing white orbs. She appeared in her early 20s, at the most.

Her facial expression remained pleasant, even if she was confused by my antics.

“Hey,” she said. I immediately noticed the useage of “Hey” instead of hello.

“Hey ya back.” I said, as smooth as I could manage.

She approached, put my face in her hands like Penelope had earlier, and closed her eyes. She smiled and opened them.

“So, you remember everything. Looks like your familiar did as we asked.”

Familiar? We? They asked the panther? That’s three bombshells in a row.

“I’ll explain” she continued. We walked to the benches t still standing from Penelope’s impressive display. “Wizards and Sorcerer’s get familiars. Yours, if you hadn’t guessed by now, is the panther that saved your life. I had asked your familiar to make itself known to you before the memory wipe and to use a new ability I had given it called Memories of the Past.” She stared at me for a response, but I gave none. I hated reacting before receiving all the information, so I just nodded for her to continue.

“You have a very famous bloodline, Vince,” she remarked. “Your ancestors’ ability to harness mana and use it to their whim is second to none. Minus the gods, of course. An idea came to Penelope and me. What would happen if we stopped the memory wipe? Well, we couldn’t directly, rules are rules. However, what if I gave the ability to another?” She lifted her finger signifying the idea. “Everyone with a trickle of your ancestor’s blood has been at least a wizard, and most of them sorcerers. What if, instead of a clean slate, we let you develop based on ALL your previous memories…”

She rambled on about the intricacies of magic, how it related to emotions in sorcerers, and what could change if I were allowed to keep all of my previous memories. She was talking very casually, like someone from Earth would, and was very passionate about this science project of hers. The system hadn’t be altered for thousands of years, and I was their first successful experiment outside of the norm. I was their new toy.

Yeah, hate to break it to you, but no chance I’m staying here.

I tuned back in to her rant at the end just in time to hear, “… and once we gather enough information, we could always return you home if you desire.”

I could tell she knew she got me with that one.

“How long would you need me for?” I asked.

“Five years minimum, with a maximum of ten years.” She replied as if she already had her answer planned.

“What happens if I die?” I asked.

“You die.” She shrugged. “I’d suggest not to do so.”

I paused for a moment, digesting that. I’m sure being a sorcerer would put a target on my back, so I would need to grow stronger, but not put myself into overly dangerous situations.

“What would I need to do?” I questioned. I wouldn’t be a mercenary for hire or murder some person that doesn’t worship the ground she walks on.

“Whatever you want to do!” she exclaimed, arms stretched wide. “The ball is in your court, so to speak.”

I thought for a second before asking, “If I agree, I would request to return to the time period from which I was taken. I would not want to go through years of this, just to find my wife is eighty years old and my family and friends are all dead.”

She laughed. “Fair point, and agreed. That is within my capabilities.”

Just haggling with a goddess, no big deal.

“So… what happens now?” I asked.

“Simple. You will wake from your sleep and report to Mr. Murdock. You will not be staying at the academy here. You will be going to one that specializes in the training of wizards. You will be there for approximately one year.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Guess I’m going to Hogwarts.