Author's Note:

Sorry for the unusual update but it has to be done. My father has just died, I'm returning back to my home country and have no idea when I'll return to writing. It might be a week or month, or two. Can't say anything so I'm uploading what I had prepared for this week. It feels ironic though. I had written the whole chapter over the weekend as though I had known I wouldn't have the time later on. And I had been so happy and all for winning the competition. Life knows how to ruin our best days, doesn't it?

Edit: Proofread and made the tables.

Characters

Titles and Abilities

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Fire crackled. It’s flames licked at the logs, seeking, searching. They wanted more, eternally hungry.

An old man was sitting beside the hearth. He was shifting the logs from time to time, making flame spit sparks in indignation. It didn’t appreciate being disturbed.

But the man didn’t care much for it. He had his own worries.

Next to him lay two creatures he hadn’t expected to have on this fine evening. And the previous one. And one before that. They had stumbled in his house and fell dead, or close to it.

“Stupid youngsters,” he muttered, putting a pot over the flame. “If you come over for a visit, don’t drop dead on someone’s doorstep.”

He glanced back at them. The horse was a grown one, filling up more than half a room. It’s black hide shone in the firelight as he breathed slowly. He had woken up a few times but went back right to sleep after checking that the kid was right beside him.

The boy in question looked less okay. His eyes moved under his eyelids and his breath was uneven. Sweat formed on his brow, skin red and clammy. From time to time he would show signs of life, but they were far in between and delusion like. Sedgart couldn’t make sense of any of the words uttered.

“Little kid,” he cursed, returning his eyes to the water. It was soon going to boil so he stood up and went to look for a hidden cabinet. He didn’t like keeping his things so close to the surface but some had to be kept on hand.

Inside he found an array of bottles with herbs inside. There were no labels but he knew all of them by heart; all of their uses and side effects. He picked a few that might help with a fever and closed the cabinet.

His eyes went to the kid again. “Aah,” the boy moaned, trying to turn around in fitful sleep. Sedgart moved to him and brought the blanket, or the rag that substituted for it, closer to the kid’s head. “I didn’t train you so you can die from a cold, hear me?”

A “Mhmm,” was his answer as the kid snuggled more comfortably in the rags. Sedgart shook his head at that, noticing the horse’s eyes watching him. “What do you want?”

The animal looked to think for a moment, took a glance at the kid and lowered his own head. Sedgart turned then and poured the herbs into the pot. Water was boiling and soon he would have his tea.

It wouldn’t be nice to wake the kid, but he needed something to live. Lying on the ground under a pile of rags was hardly going to be enough for him to survive. “Children. Maybe it’s for the better that I had none of my own,” muttered the old man. “I would have killed them myself. What was he even thinking, riding in wet clothes when winter is approaching?”

No answer came so he sat down in his place by the hearth and watched the flames. They played around, ignorant of his struggles and worries. They had a good life, even if it was short.

Tea was ready. He took the pot off the fire and poured a cup. It warmed his hands, releasing a sweet aroma. He breathed it for a moment, letting it cool down before bringing it to the kid.

“Hey, wake up,” he whispered, crouching down near the boy. The kid moaned something unintelligible but didn’t open his eyes. “You have to make it hard, don’t you?”

Sedgart put his left hand under the kid’s head and raised it up. This made the boy’s eyes flutter open. “Open your mouth,” Sedgart said, hoping this would be enough.

As if. There was no recognition in the kid’s eyes. It didn’t seem he even understood what was being said. Sedgart sighed, moving Ace to lean on him. Then he forced his mouth open and poured some tea. The kid choked at first, but then managed to gulp everything down.

The moment Sedgart lowered him, the kid’s eyes closed shut once again. Tea wasn’t going to work wonders, but Sedgart wouldn’t have minded if it did. He was left now with nothing to do.

Nothing but watching the kid and praying he was going to make it through.

Smell of meat wafted through the room, entering Ace’s nostrils and bringing his conscience to the world of the living. He tried opening his eyes first and foremost but it felt as if there was a brick on each one.

Some hours later, or so it felt to him, he won the war against them. They opened and he saw green fumes all over his head. It brought an involuntary smile to his face.

This was more familiar than anything else in this world. He spent a whole year eating this poisonous looking, smelling and tasting stew. Though it wasn’t one. It actually was good for his stomach and gave lots of energy for training.

“Sedgart,” he tried to say but only a moan escaped his mouth. ‘Damn, what had happened,’ he wondered, trying to get up. That showed up to be more than he had bargained for.

All his muscles protested against moving. They were sluggish and bereft of power, turning on another side felt like a feat to get a badge of honour.

He heard footsteps coming closer. A man he could barely recognise stopped before him. “So you survived,” he noted with a nod. Then he turned around and went away.

‘I’m happy you’re relieved,’ he thought to himself, a corner of his lip curling up. He then tried to move more. It was pushing against what his brain said was best for him but he didn’t want to lay around like an invalid.

His movements made something or someone else wake up. A warmth disappeared from his back and he turned to see Mirage standing up. The horse looked worse for the wear, its sides depleted and mane shadier but there was fire still in its eyes.

It made Ace think that there might have been more than a day of his lying dead to the world. He tried to say something else, but his throat was too dry. No sound made it out.

“Drink this,” Sedgart said, coming over. He held a cup of warm tea which Ace took gratefully with shaking hands. The liquid sloshed down his throat, wetting it. “Thanks,” he croaked out and this time it was almost recognisable.

He then drank the rest of the tea, taking a good look at his old master. Sedgart had aged in their time apart.

He had always looked a hundred years old; walking with a cane, bowed a bit, wrinkles covering his hands and face. Thin lips and small, but sharps eyes barely noticeable. Everything was still the same but something was different.

Ace couldn’t put a finger on it, but the man standing before him was different. “You’ve aged,” he said, his voice sounding like a human’s finally. It was still a bit hoarse, but much improved from the first try.

The old man hit Ace’s shoulder with a cane. “What did you expect? That I would grow younger?” He said it with a look that made Ace squirm in his place.

“No, but you were old enough... I thought you couldn’t get any older than that.”

“If that’s your way of giving compliments, I fear you’ll live a very solitary life,” Sedgart answered, going to tend to the fire. It was blazing at full strength, a pot boiling over it.

Ace saw Sedgart tasting brew with his wooden spoon and clucking in delight. He thought he was the best cook in the world, a delusion Ace let him keep as long as he was given food for free. “It’s almost done.”

Ace lowered himself back in the rags again. It was hard to keep himself up, even for a little while. As he lay down, his eyes fell on Mirage again. He was standing tall in the corner, looking lonely and desolate.

“Have you been out?” he asked him and the animal shook its head. Ace sighed. “I’m fine. Go and eat something. What use would you be to me if you fell dead from hunger?”

Mirage snorted at that, but moved forward. He touched Ace’s head with his nose, a goodbye, and marched through the door out. He left them open and cold wind entered in.

Ace shivered from it and pulled the covers closer around himself. “Was it always this cold here?” he wondered aloud. Sedgart glanced back at him. “When you’re dressed in nothing but hole filled rags, yes.”

“What?” Ace asked in surprise, dragging one hand out in the cold. Instead of his white shirt, it was put in a greyish robe which had more holes than cloth. There was a smell coming from it which Ace didn’t want to identify. “What happened to my own?”

Sedgart stood up and went to close the door. It took him a while, having been knocked out of its place, but after a lot of grumbling and cursing he managed. He turned to Ace then. “You were riding in winter winds with a thin shirt, and to make it better you were soaked to the bone. It is a wonder how you’re still alive.”

“It wasn’t even than cold...” Ace tried saying, but his memory of the last day’s ride was fuzzy. He remembered urging Mirage forward, whispering to him and watching the city appear in his sights. “Will I get a bit of that?”

There was a bit more grumbling from the old man but he found a small bowl and poured some stew. He then took a spoon and brought it all to Ace. The kid took it with gladness, forming a pile of rags to lean on. “Thanks,” he murmured, understanding something.

Sedgart hadn’t changed in appearance but in movements. His steps were slower, lacking an assassin’s precision and grace. Fingers of his were less agile too, fumbling with things, unable to take them at first try.

There was even less light in his eyes. It was hard to judge but Ace could have sworn they were duller, sparks in them being extinguished by time. Energy gone for real this time.

Sadness washed over him at that realisation. Sedgart might have been a non-player character but to Ace he had been real. A whole year they had spent together, just the two of them and now to see this. The man was still here but he was wasting away, like a bucket on which bottom’s a hole opened up.

“What’s with that look?” Sedgart asked, his spoon stopping midway to his mouth. Ace didn’t answer at first so the guy’s eyes narrowed at him, ordering to speak up.

Ace held his bowl in the hands, keeping them warm as he raised his head to look at Sedgart. “You’re dying,” he stated in an emotionless tone.

This made the man’s hands shake. The spoon spilled out, luckily most of the stew returned back to the bowl. “We’re all dying,” Sedgart said, pretending nothing had happened. “Every life is just a journey to reach death’s doors.”

“Your ends just a step away then,” Ace said, looking straight at the man. There was annoyance in Sedgart’s expression but he didn’t pursue the point. He respected his student enough not to lie blatantly in his face. “I hope I have a few more.”

“What happened?” Ace asked, resuming his eating. It was hard trying to keep his back straight and he wanted to be done with it. A bit of rest and he would try standing up then.

Sedgart shrugged. “Sickness of the old. Joints don’t bend and limbs resist my commands. It’s making me sick.” He took a few sips of the brew, his eyes looking somewhere far away. “I know now why people of our profession don’t get old.”

Ace raised an eyebrow. “I always thought it was dangers of the occupation.”

“That too,” Sedgart agreed with a smile. “But you can’t imagine what it’s like losing all you ever were. Each day its harder to get up and moving. My treasured and honed skills are disappearing right before my eyes.” He sighed heavily.

“Why don’t you leave then?” Ace asked, taking a few sips and then motioning with his empty spoon. “What’s keeping you in this city? I hope you’re not looking for another student.”

The man chuckled at that. “You can feel safe. I haven’t found anyone good enough. After your reign this place is silent as a grave, it’s not even close to recovering.”

Ace waited a moment for the old man to continue but he seemed lost in mind. He probed him then. “You didn’t answer my question.”

This made the man focus his eyes back on Ace. There were questions in them, questions Ace couldn’t guess. He looked back for a moment before lowering his eyes to his brew. It was warm and tasty in its own way.

“I have nowhere to go,” the man finally said, with a sigh turning to his own bowl. He swirled the spoon inside, not eating. “I had wasted all my youth on stupidity and now no longer have anyone to turn to.” He smiled tiredly. “Be smarter than me. Get friends even if you have to fake it. It’s better to have fake ones than none.”

“My father said the same to me,” Ace replied with a bitter smile. “I have to say it’s harder to do than it sounds.”

“It is,” agreed Sedgart with a nod. “I have heard of your escapades even here. You have been busy after you left.” It was Ace’s turn to shrug. “I just did what you taught me.”

“You’re going to say the mistakes are my fault too?” asked the man with smile that asked him to dare and say it.

Ace shook his head. Master had always found a way to make him pay for his pride; beating, traps or just a trick but always something. “It was bad decisions done based on emotions rather than logic. Something I’ve been doing a lot of lately.”

The old man nodded. “I noticed. You got yourself discovered.”

“Yeah, one thing I don’t understand though it why I’m still immune to killing people? No red mark appears over my head.” It wasn’t true. He hadn’t killed anyone after being discovered but he had looked at his status menu and it was the same. His fame and notoriety hadn’t merged.

Sedgart smiled widely. “You’re a smart kid then. I might actually be able to say you’re my student without feeling too much shame.” Ace tilted his head to the side, a look of are you serious in his eyes.

The old man laughed. “You have created a new persona. One of your creations is deeply enough ingrained in people’s mind. It would be a shame for it to be discovered because of a red mark over your head so the goddess keeps her protection on you.”

Ace sat still then. He tried to remember a creation of his. The elf! He was the guild’s leader and someone only Ace had known personally. Could it be that no one put two and two together, understanding that those were one and the same.

He shook his head. Impossible. It was so obvious. “They can’t be so stupid,” he murmured.

Sedgart burst out laughing at that. He put the empty bowl down and held onto his stomach as laughter racked his body. Tears even came out of his eyes.

Ace watched it with narrowed eyes. What was so funny?

Only some five minutes later, Sedgart could talk again. He was still chuckling with a smile all over his face, but he was at least legible now. “You- you said they can’t, CAN’T be that stupid...” He laughed again. “Do you know what our profession is based on?”

Ace tilted his head. “Killing people?”

“Tricking them,” corrected him Sedgart, a strange calmness settling in. “Being a soldier is based on how good you are at killing people, but not assassination. There is more to it then just plain stabbing.

“We find people’s weaknesses and exploit them. We kill them and make it look like someone else did it. And everyone believes it. We’re the tricksters and liars. We are the pretenders.” He shook his head as if not believing it. “And you ask if people could be that stupid... We wouldn’t exist if they weren’t.”

Ace smiled at that. “You seem to have kept your passion for the profession.”

Sedgart chuckled. “That’s all I have left. That and the memory of times gone.”

“When would you like giving me a helping hand?” Ace asked, finishing his bowl and putting it away. He lay down then, his head raised on a pile of rags so he could see the old man.

“What do you want from me?” Sedgart asked, surprised to be needed. He had wondered why the kid came, but never came up with a good enough answer.

Ace grimaced. “I have students of my own. A sorry bunch that was given to me. Most of them are decent or can be made into, but one poses a problem. I hadn’t seen anything so horrible in my life.”

That made the old man’s eyes lit up and he moved closer. “You have students of your own? Wouldn’t have dubbed you as a caring type.” They both laughed at that. “So what did she do?”

“It’s not anything purposeful. It’s just that it feels like she’s made of a single branch. Her limbs are stiffer than anything I’ve seen before and I’ve killed many people. It’s amazing she can still move.” His face darkened. “Her moves are... They’re horrible! It would take a few hundred years to train her to be something even close to decent.”

“And you can’t get rid of her, can you?” Sedgart asked with a knowing smile.

Ace nodded with a sigh. “She had joined because of her friend. I couldn’t care less but when I threatened to kick them out, she looked so happy... I couldn’t take it and made her stay. You should have seen the disappointment in her eyes,” he explained with a laugh.

“That’s not the best reason to keep a student,” Sedgart said with a smile. Ace glared at him and the man laughed. “I’m just saying. But I see your point. It had to be done. Don’t know what to suggest, though. Only training is going to change anything.”

The way he said it, with silent wistfulness, brought an idea to Ace’s mind. He smiled in a way that made Sedgart worry. “What are you planning?”

“Why don’t you come with me?” he asked with a wide smile. “You’ll have something to do and won’t have to waste away here all on your own.”

“It’s a tempting idea, but I don’t feel in any shape or form to take up a bunch of kids under my wing. They’re your responsibility,” answered Sedgart, eyeing Ace anew. “You’re not pushing it all on me.”

“I’m not!” Ace said indignantly, raising from his half-lying position. “I just want you to examine her and maybe suggest some tips how to deal with it. You have more practise in teaching than me, after all.”

There was distrust in Sedgart’s eyes but the temptation was too good. No human ever visited his house. He was all on his own, his own body discouraging him from leaving the house. He wouldn’t be found dead on some street. There wouldn’t be a way to survive that shame down. He couldn’t make fun of his profession in that way.

He sighed very deeply. “Fine. I’ll go with you, but don’t you dare push your students on me.”

“I won’t! Promise!” Ace said with a laugh. Sedgart didn’t believe him in the least, but a smile still made its way on his face. “I’m so going to regret this.”

“Probably,” agreed Ace, returning to his rags. There were dozens of them, he shifted them to make it more comfortable and closed his eyes. “Be ready when I wake up. I am tired now.”

The moment his head touched the rags, he was in a dreamland. There was still some healing to be done.

Two days passed until Ace woke up again. His body felt stiff and groggy but he pushed forward this time. He had lain around for way too long.

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” said a voice from the other side of the room. Ace sat up, turning his head to see his old master grooming Mirage. “You should take better care of what is yours.”

Ace yawned. “I’ll think about it,” he said, stretching his limbs out to return feeling back in them. After that he tried to stand up. It was a pain but his legs kept him up. “Is there anything edible in this place?”

The old man shrugged, having turned back to the horse. “There might be some stew left and a crumb of bread.”

Ace grumbled at the meal suggested but went to the hearth and peered into the pot. There was half a bowl of some purple brew at the bottom with three or four pieces of what might have been meat once. It hardly looked edible but Ace had gotten used to eating dangerous looking substances in the year he’d trained under Sedgart.

He found a spoon nearby and ate everything in a few gulps. It wasn’t much but his satiety bar went to halfway where it had been flashing red previously. Ace took a barley bread out of his pocket and ate that too.

A thought occurred to him then. “How are you going to travel?” he asked Sedgart. Ace himself had planned to return through the lake near the city, but he couldn’t take passengers along. Not human ones at least.

“Aren’t we riding?” asked the man, glancing back at Ace.

“I’m not,” the kid answered, shaking his head. He had wasted more than enough time around here. It was impossible to know how many interesting developments he had missed already. There was no way he was going to miss more than necessary.

Both Mirage and Sedgart focused their gazes on him. “What?” he asked. “I need to return.” He watched them for a moment. “You can come to me together. Yeah, that sounds a fine plan. I’ll wait for you in Lasran. Mirage knows where exactly.”

He stood up then, happy about the resolution and glanced at his clothes. It were greyish rags so he went towards the open bathroom. There he moved the bath’s leg and opened up the secret passage.

As he walked down the stairs, he heard Sedgart following him. “Why are you in such a hurry? Is something wrong?”

Ace didn’t slow down as he answered. “There’s a war brewing and I kind of work for both sides. It would be a shame to miss something important, if I hadn’t already.”

“Both sides?” Sedgart asked with a chuckle. “Aren’t you taking on more than you can manage?”

“Not a chance,” Ace answered with a laugh. He moved into one of the first doors to the right, [Flare] lightening it up. Racks of clothes lined the walls. There was a pair for every occasion; rich men vests and breeches, princely tunics, wizardly cloaks and poor man’s shirts.

He walked through them all, unseeing. What he needed was at the back, a shelf of wigs. Most of them were common, just to change one’s appearance but not stand out. However, there were what he needed too, red haired ones hanging on the side.

Ace sifted through all of them, looking for one that was most similar to his old one. It had been quite bright, unnaturally so, and with long hair. Only two fell into that category and Ace tried them on.

He couldn’t feel a difference, so he turned to Sedgart. “Which one?”

The old man eyed him for a moment, then pointed at the one he was holding at his hand. “That. The one you’re using is too large for you. It makes it obvious you’re wearing a wig.”

“Thanks,” Ace said, putting the other wig on and returning the first one to its place on the shelf. “I just hope no one notices this one’s a bit darker than my old one.”

“They won’t,” Sedgart said in a confident tone. “You’re a monster, few ever lift their eyes to meet yours. I doubt anyone has ever taken a good look at you.”

Ace would have been happy to agree, but he knew more than the old man. To players this was a game and they had technologies unknown to people of the land. He was sure there were hundreds of pictures of his on the Internet and if anyone took a better look, they would notice the colour difference.

But it was too late to change anything. He had lost the old wig and that was all. There was no returning it.

“So you’ll come with Mirage, right?” he asked to make sure. It would be quite disappointing if the old man thought better of it, when he was out of sight.

“Mirage is the horse, I take it?” “Yeah,” Ace answered with a nod.

“He didn’t seem thrilled by the idea of being separated from you,” Sedgart pointed out as they moved to climb back upstairs.

Ace shrugged. “He’ll live with it. You can’t travel yourself while I can.”

“How?” asked Sedgart, his steps quickening up. “Did you learn to use magic?”

Ace turned to look back at the man. He couldn’t remember hearing so much eagerness in the man’s voice ever before. “I did. What of it?”

This made the man’s eyes start to shine. He even grabbed onto Ace’s sleeve to keep him from moving upwards. “You sure? You’re not pretending?”

Ace tilted his head and then activated [Void Step]. He appeared behind the man, casting [Wild Vines] in a whisper. They held the old man in place while Ace positioned his dagger next to Sedgart’s throat. “You’re dead.”

The old man’s breathing picked up, but Ace knew it wasn’t from fear. Sedgart had his weapons in his hands and had vines cut before Ace even saw it happening. His dagger was pushed away and he had to jump back to evade a thrust from the man’s other hand.

He was about to jump back in, when Sedgart’s expression stopped him. The guy’s jaw had went slack, eyes widening in disbelief and amazement. Reverie.

“What?” Ace asked, tilting his head.

“You... You’re standing on air!” the man shouted out and Ace looked down. Yeah, he had activated [Radiant Step] without a conscious thought. It was like moving a hand or a leg, there was no need to think of it. “And?”

“You’re standing on air...” Sedgart murmured, his eyes following Ace’s every move. “How can that be?” he asked, taking a few steps closer.

Ace smiled. “Magic,” he said in a whisper, jumping down and petting the old man. “You told me to test it and as a good student I am, I didn’t stop half-way.”

He said it as a joke, but tears showed up in the old man’s eyes. He didn’t even try to brush them away but stared at Ace. It made the kid shuffle his feet, lower his eyes. “Don’t look at me,” he finally spit out, raising his eyes back up again.

It brought a smile to the old man’s face as two big tears went down his cheeks. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for honouring this old geezer’s request.” His voice was low and clogged up, but Ace understood the words clearly.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said, turning away. “I did what was best for me.”

“Even so,” the old man said. “Thank you.”

Quest Finished: Dreams of Glory

You have agreed to explore the life of one who is master of both dagger and magic. It wasn’t an easy task but you persevered and pushed onwards, doing everything in your power.

Now you returned to tell your tale, having proven that the two world’s aren’t that far apart. Magic can be used to weaken and steal people’s lives while dagger can protect and save them. Something few in this world know or understand.

Quest Reward:

Eternal gratitude of Sedgart

Title “Master Assassin Mage”

Class Assassin Mage is now open to the public

Ability “Tribute”

Passage in the history books

Item “Amulet of the Master”

Ace stared at the window for a long while, his mouth opening up a bit more with each line. What was this? He had long ago forgotten about this quest, not even sure what he needed to do to finish it.

If he pushed his memory, he could almost remember it being quite high level, but this was insane. The rewards were overwhelming, judging by the names only. He was afraid to open the information windows to find out more about them.

“That’s too much,” he whispered, his eyes still locked on the window.

“Not at tall,” replied Sedgart with a little smile. “My thanks is all I can give you. It’s too little, but it’s all I have.”

This brought Ace from his stupor and he tried to steel his expression, failing miserably. “Your help with my students will be more than enough,” he stated, forcing a smile out.

“I’d be happy to help,” Sedgart said in a soft voice, his eyes still wet from the tears. “Should we leave now?”

Ace nodded. “Mirage, take him to the mansion. I’ll wait for you there.”

Then not waiting for a reply, he rushed outside and activating [Shadow Veil] with [Radiant Step] jumped on a roof. From there he simply ran forwards, his shaking fingers opening up menu bars.

Master Assassin Mage

*Granted for founding a class

+50 to all statuses

+100 to agility and intelligence

-20% casting time

+15% to spell power

+15% to attack speed

+10% to movement speed

Item: Amulet of the Master

The title of master is easily gained these days, but rarely deserved. Only few are truly worth it and to mark them as such gods have crafted a new gem. It resembles amethyst in colour but is much darker and as strong as a diamond. No tools can ever shape it but the hands of gods themselves.

This particular amulet is in the shape of a dagger blade to show its owners mastery with this weapon but that is not all. Deep within the purple gem, black swirls can be seen, they form words of magic that are yet unknown.

Special Effects:

Immunity to all status effects (Fear, Confusion and etc)

Entrance to all places, no doors will ever be barred against you if the people inside don’t want to feel the wrath of gods

World Renown

New Skill: Tribute [Passive]

You have achieved greatness in this life of yours. You have set on an impossible mission and against all odds came out victorious, mastering your art. No one expected that of you and that is why your actions shine even greater.

The class you founded will be renowned throughout the world and many new students will try to learn your art. This will only increase your fame, carrying your name through the lands.

Many will want to apprentice under you but be careful, fame also brings fiends with it. They will want to challenge you, hoping to earn a name for themselves. Each time you would lose against them, a great deal of your fame will disappear until you’re nothing more than an old legend. Greatness is a fleeting thing after all.

+ 1 agility and intelligence for every player having chosen your class.