Purity

The Past

"Strength in loyalty. Loyalty in strength." -the Apprentices' Motto

Wick sat on the edge of the water fountain and absorbed the first five skill cards. One by one, their skill screens appeared in his vision. He had been waiting for this moment for what seemed like forever. Six skill cards were bought with his ingenuity and hard work, and he was only eleven. How would his dad have reacted to such a thing?

He would have been proud. The image of his dad's beaming smile lifted his heart as much as it burned knowing the man was dead. Absorbing five level-one skill cards at once wiped the bitter conversation with Carvahal from his mouth quickly enough.

Wick's heart thrummed a heavy beat like Simmerestian festival drums from pure excitement. He'd endured being alone, being an orphan in a slum-city, survived a beating, and encountered every kind of trap imaginable in the puzzle dungeon. He'd earned vast rewards, too.

All of his other abilities he'd gained -- Thymesia, Automate, his title as The Crafter -- they felt inevitable after overcoming perils by the skin of his teeth. But this was different. The skills he'd just bought and absorbed were paid for with money. It felt more real to exchange his hard earnings for the skills because real power wasn't stolen or given; it was bought, a deal struck.

In a way, buying power was the purest logic. It made the most sense. Sure, countries and people fought in wars for power, but money fueled it all. Money was indifferent to morals and ambitions and politics but also was the measure of all these things at once. Money was numbers and calculation, nothing more. And it was beautiful.

Five skill screens appeared in his vision.

Shield: Oak (Level 1)

Harden (Level 1)

Sparkflame (Level 1)

Heatskin (Level 1)

Aqua Stream (Level 1)

When Wick absorbed the skills, he'd been nervous that he wouldn't be able to equip the them. Everyone had a different affinity for different skills, and they could only find out if they were able to equip it by actually trying.

Luckily, Wick didn't need to sleep since he no longer needed to access the Choosing Room to equip his skills. He could simply bind the skills with Automate to a vocal command.

That didn't mean he could use them, though. His excitement sobered at the reality. Maybe none of the skills were sympathetic to his body, and he'd have to resell them back to Carvahal at a fraction of their price. It was normal to do so, but the last thing Wick wanted to do was lose the investment.

He breathed out through his nose and bound all of the skills to vocal commands. Knowledge from all the skills flooded his mind, and he was able to understand exactly how each worked.

Wick spoke a command, "Shield: Oak."

His heart skipped a beat while he held his breath. A sensation of mild heat flooded through his body, and he realized he could feel the chakras flooding inside him. Before Berrma had explained what chakras were, Wick had vaguely sensed the power going through him. After experiencing his chakra paths burning out from overuse, he was more sensitive to Source pouring through his body.

It was like he'd opened a new sense. He couldn't unfeel it if he tried.

His left arm twitched near his chest, and Wick realized the chakra path his new skill used involved one of the chakras from Cut. Thankfully, he didn't experience the same burning feeling from before. Maybe it was because Shield: Oak used a different path.

"That was a stupid way to find that out," Wick chided himself. He should have asked Berrma about that before rushing into testing out his new skills.

A half-second after speaking the command, a large shower of manna leaked out from his arm. In another half-second, a circular shield the size of his torso blinked into existence on the outside of his left forearm. Wick's cheeks hurt from the grin on his face. Scout had caught up to him, not bothering to keep up with Wick's speed since the greenhair's breathing was so slim.

Scout's eyes widened at the shield on Wick's arm. Wick moved his left arm, and the large shield floated above the back of his forearm as if it was strapped to it.

"Go ahead, touch it," Wick insisted.

Scout knocked on the wooden shield, and it made a dull sound as if striking a living tree. "That's amazing."

Wick agreed with him, but couldn't help but frown at the manna leak. Thymesia was supposed to reduce it down to zero. But why was that?

After thinking about it silently for a few seconds, he realized Thymesia helped him visualize things he remembered perfectly. His Trait provided him nearly perfect memory, and the reason he was able to reduce the manna leak to zero with Cut was because he had visualized the skill perfectly.

Wick willed the skill away. With the Crafter's Title ability, the skill would have only cost a few SP. But the manna leak cost him ten more SP than he needed to. That meant every time he used a new skill, he'd lose a few SP until learning how to visualize the skill perfectly with Thymesia.

The shield disappeared. He was eager to speak the command again, but this time, he visualized the skill before doing so. The image of the wooden shield didn't just appear in his memory; it formed into a lifelike representation in his vision, just like the map of Outlast had.

Wick had another idea. He stood on the edge of the fountain and looked at his reflection. What he saw wasn't a particularly handsome boy. Just the same charcoal-colored hair and sharp eyes. He was taller than before. He turned his back to the reflection and looked over his shoulder, checking for other details.

"Uh, Wick?" Scout asked.

Wick ignored him. The reflection helped him visualize his own body. In an instant, a perfect representation of his body appeared before him. He rotated it so it faced him. The image was a little eerie.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember exactly where in his body the Source Points flooded, coursing through him like a river of heat. Thymesia filled in the gaps quickly, and soon he was able to see the exact chakra locations in the image-model of him.

Wick grinned and whispered, "Shield: Oak."

The shield appeared again, and this time, with no manna leak. Wick threw back his head and laughed. A few people in the square turned their heads at him, and Scout seemed to shrink at the sound. Wick didn't care. He'd just discovered a reliable way to have completely zero manna leak from this point on.

On top of that, he'd discovered the locations of his other chakras. Shield: Oak used five different chakras in his body, starting from his heart and ending at his forearm. Wick wanted to do the same with Cut, but didn't want to risk burning through that chakra path again.

Scout frowned. "Kumhail wrote that it takes most people years without forming training at the Skillia to reduce their manna leak."

Wick chuckled. "Am I most people?"

Scout tilted his head to him as if Wick had just scored a point. "Still. It seems unnatural."

"What's more natural than finding ways to break previous limitations? To advance the self is to advance everyone else as well," Wick retorted.

"Is that another Praxus saying?" Scout asked dryly. "Because you sound super snooty whenever you quote Praxus."

Wick shrugged. "I need to check the other skills as well."

He bound each skill to their respective vocal commands. In twenty minutes, Wick found that even though he could equip all five of the level one skills, he could only use three, Shield: Oak, Sparkflame, and Aqua Stream. Heatskin and Harden weren't compatible with his body.

It was disappointing, but three out of five was a win. Plus, Wick found pleasure in astounding Scout with the new abilities. He'd been able to reduce all of their manna leak by the second try, thanks to Thymesia.

All three new skills weren't very powerful, but they did help him locate his other chakras. So far, Wick guessed he had over thirty different chakras, maybe many more. Using a variety of skills would help him locate the rest.

He wondered if the pilgrims had any specific way of locating undiscovered chakras. Berrma had been able to sense where his chakra path had been burned through, but never hinted at being able to find the others.

Wick snapped his fingers on both hands while saying, "Sparkflame."

A small flame the size of his thumb fizzled between his thumb and forefinger. He opened his palm, and the flame grew to five times the size, covering his hand. Wick's palms began to heat up from the warmth of the flame, and he dropped the flame into the water fountain. The flame sizzled and vanished.

Wick summoned an Aqua Stream from his hands to help cool them. It was the same skill the sorcerers at the ass-end of the wormhole used, but theirs were higher levels.

"You're not immune to the fire?" Scout asked.

Wick shook his head. "Just because I can summon a flame doesn't mean I can't be burned by it. Sorcery is dangerous, especially for the sorcerer, even level one skills. Don't ever forget that."

"You use the word sorcerer a lot, but some other people use the word like it's capitalized. What's the difference?" asked Scout.

Wick recalled the information perfectly from Kumhail’s book, but he spent a few seconds trying to simplify it in the form of a basic principle. "Nearly everyone on the continent uses the same Source, which is manna. That is converted into Source Points, which we expend to cast skills. However, to gain the title of a true Sorcerer, you have to do two things. Can you guess what one of them is?"

Scout's gaze focused through the giant crowd of passing customers and hawkers. After a few seconds, he guessed. "You need to unlock two of your skill slots?"

Wick shook his head. "Nope. You need to unlock all three, or completely unlock a single level-three skill slot. For most people, unlocking all three skill slots is significantly less costly in SP than it is to unlocked the higher-tiered slots. Different people have different requirements."

"And the second requirement?" Scout pressed.

"You need to have a different Source than manna," Wick replied.

Scout's eyebrows knitted together. "That doesn't make sense. Manna is everywhere. Why would you purposefully choose a different Source than manna?"

Wick sighed. "Well, there are a lot of answers to that question, but I'll stick to the most widely accepted one. It's because most Sources are powerful. Manna may be everywhere, but a sorcerer who has, let's say, diamonds as his Source, might get thousands more Source Points than standard manna upon converting the Source into his body."

"There are people who eat diamonds for SP?" Scout asked, horrified.

Wick chuckled. "They don't eat it. They absorb it. I've only seen a real Sorcerer once. She came with a group of combat-types when me and my dad's mining team went a whole three levels deep."

"What was her Source?"

"Didn't say," Wick explained. "People are very protective about that kind of thing. If people know what your Source is, they could find ways to buy it or take it, and use it as leverage against you. I don't know much beyond that, though. They teach more at the Skillia."

Scout sat on the edge of the fountain, careful not to get his new tunic wet. The boy seemed to treat the clean clothes with severe reverence. He said, "That's been bothering me for a while, now. We have all these skills and Sources, right? But where do we get skill cards? And how do you get a new Source?"

Wick said excitedly, "Money. Always money. If you're asking where skill cards are originally located, they are found in two places. First, the deepest levels of the Sprawl have a few skills scattered about. Some of them are from people who died in long expeditions. Others were left there as prizes by the Misonians."

"Why would the mouse-people leave skill cards around?"

"No one really knows, but some speculate it's a reward for getting past their traps," Wick explained. Having endured the puzzle dungeon solidified that theory more in his mind.

"And the second place?"

Wick said, "It's the same place you can get a Source Card. According to record, there has never been a Source Card that came from the Sprawl. The only place to get Source Cards, the most powerful skill cards, and mysterious artifacts is the Labyrinth."

Scout's eyes widened at that. He looked back to Carvahal's nest and seemed to bite his tongue, then said, "Thanks for the info."

Wick nodded, and felt a lump in his throat. Scout had purposefully not asked more about the Labyrinth, having just found out that Wick's dad had died soon after barely surviving his journey through it.

He sighed. "Anyway, I can't use two of these skills."

Wick called up two skill screens that asked if he was certain about releasing his absorption of the skill cards. He confirmed, and two small cards appeared in his hands.

Scout stared at them. It was clear he was trying to keep a straight face, but Wick, more than anyone, knew the look of hunger lurking beneath that mask. He approved of both that drive and Scout's control to hold his tongue. It was why he extended the cards to Scout.

He said, "These are yours. Harden and Heatskin are both defensive skills. If you keep using both enough, they'll eventually evolve into better versions of the skills. Of course, you'll need to have your second skill slot unlocked by then."

Scout's mouth hung open as he held the cards, one in each hand. He was too shocked to say anything for a while. Finally, the half-breed boy looked at Wick in wonder, tears filling up his eyes to the brim, but no teardrop fell on his cheek. The boy clenched his jaw, fighting back the tears, and straightened his back.

"Strength in loyalty," Scout managed to croak out.

"Of course." Wick smiled. Good. The boy he had invested the most time in was deeper in Wick's pocket now, and with what he was about to do next, Wick was sure Scout wouldn't get out of it even the world burned around them.

Scout looked worried. "I haven't even unlocked my first level-one skill slot. The manna density living on the outskirts of Grey Mountain has helped, but it'll be a while. Even then, I don't know if I want to use skills since I'll be using all my SP to get as strong as Berrma."

Wick sighed. "This is something I was going to go over with you in a later, but I think now is a good time as any. As you know, most halfbreeds tend to get the benefits from both sides of their lineage. In Pebbles' case, she was stronger and wiser than the average human. You are the exception, where being a cross between a oceanid and a human gave you a weak disposition."

Despite having known it all his life, Scout shrank at Wick's words. Wick wanted him to feel small before lifting him up a bit. He continued, "But that's just your body. What nymphs of all tribes are known for is their inherent ability to blend with manna. For you, that means you can absorb manna way faster than anyone else I've ever met. Or you can convert your Source into SP way faster than others. It doesn't matter really."

Scout seemed skeptical. "What are you saying?"

"Basically," Wick finished, "you'll have more SP than the average human."

"Even you?" Scout asked.

Wick paused at that. Since when was he able to convert manna into SP so quickly? It couldn't have been his Trait. Maybe a high absorption rate was a hidden side effect from the Title of The Crafter.

"No," he answered honestly. "But it's a lot."

"But I still don't know if I want to use skills. You've fought Berrma. She's the most powerful person I've ever seen. Even if I have a faster manna absorption rate than most, Berrma said I need all my SP to become a pilgrim."

Wick chuckled and reached inside his jacket, pulling out a thin vial filled with blue smoky liquid. He pinched it between his fingers, holding it up to the nearly-noonday light. "Why settle for one mountain peak when you can have both? Do you know what this is?"

Scout was still clearly confused, but the wispy blue smoke in the small vial caught his attention. His eyes widened in recognition and a tinge of fear. He answered, "A manna potion."

Wick nodded, turning the vial in his hand, inspecting the contents. "Manna distilled by the leatherbacks themselves. I had Rax throw it in our deal before I left. I never would have been able to afford it myself even with all the coin I just spent."

"N-no way I'm absorbing that," Scout stuttered, taking an involuntary step back. "I've heard stories about the addicts, how they all turn into homeless, raving potheads."

Wick felt his lips tug wide into a grin. "True enough. Absorbing distilled manna is a great way to get a quick jump in your Source Points, but the side effects are addictive and...detrimental over a long period of use. Soldiers usually spend their coin on it in the battlefront to give them an edge in battle."

Scout swallowed hard. "Why do you have a manna pot?"

Wick answered, "Contrary to popular belief, people don't get addicted to manna pots because there are any addictive alchemical qualities. They get addicted to the rush of power. They lack self-control."

"So what? It poisons your body over time," Scout said, nearly raising his voice.

"For humans," Wick corrected. "Because their ability to convert the incredibly concentrated source of manna into Source Points is sub-par. All the leftover manna they can't absorb lingers in the body, and the body fights the foreign manna. But you, broken little Scout, I'm willing to bet you can convert all the distilled manna into Source Points. And even if you can't, your nature as a nymph won't reject it."

Scout's doubt wavered. "You're saying halfbreed nymphs are immune to the side effects?"

Wick shook his head. "No. I'm saying you probably aren't. You're special, Scout. This means that as long as we can afford it, you'll have enough SP to train both as a pilgrim and a sorcerer."

"How are you so sure?"

"It's a theory, but I'm willing to bet on it."

Even though the greenhair was standing still, his breathing got heavy. Wick could see the glimmer of hope in his expression grow like a well-nurtured sapling. When people were on top of the fence, it was the best place to push them in the direction you wanted. Doubt was the killing field of all good hagglers.

Wordlessly, Scout reached out and plucked the vial from Wick's hand. He turned it over and frowned. "There's no stopper. How do I get the manna?"

Wick took the vial back, lifted it above his head, and said, "Breathe it in."

His hand lunged toward the ground, and the vial shattered on the street. What looked to be clear glass shattered and evaporated into thin air, the properties of single-use shatterglass. The blue liquid smoke formed into a ball in front of a surprised Scout, and Wick spoke more forcefully, "Breathe it in, Scout."

The greenhair's nostrils widened, and the ball of blue liquid smoke lifted into twin tendrils, sucked into Scout's nose. In an instant, the blue smoke was gone. The whites of Scout's eyes pulsed a faint blue before returning back to their normal color. Then he blinked, and said in an underwhelmed tone, "That's it?"

Wick realized he had been clenching his grip around his spade. He wasn't exactly sure if all the theories he said to Scout were actually correct. But boldness didn't come without risk. "Check your Source Point screen."

Scout gained that blank expression most people had when looking at their status screens. His eyes widened in surprise. "Oh."

His finger darted out at something invisible in the air. Scout took the skillcards he had pocketed and absorbed them hurriedly, excited.

Wick smiled. It was clear the boy had converted enough of the purified manna into the Source Points required to unlock his first-level skill slot. Since he absorbed the level one skills, it also meant he had enough SP left over to use the skills. "You'll need to sleep to equip your skills. We haven't covered that yet. It'll be your first visit in the Choosing Room. After that, we'll go over manna leak."

Scout frowned. "But you didn't need to sleep to change your skills."

Wick nodded gravely. "Yes. And that's a secret only you know."

Scout's excitement sobered, and his lips pressed in a thin line. "I understand. Wait. You bought six skill cards. You absorbed three and gave two to me. What's with the last one?"

Wick pulled out the final skill card. It was a level two skill, Slice. The skill was evolved from the very common Cut, just like his dad's had been. There had been two other level two variants from Cut at Carvahal's nest, but this one was the cheapest. He had bought it to gain insight on how to evolve his own skill.

He absorbed the card and the skill card disappeared. Since Automate took up all of his skill slots and skill slot levels, any skill he absorbed would automatically equip --

A status screen appeared, and Wick felt a fear he had only experienced a few times before.

To preserve the purity of the Crafter legacy, you are unable to equip any skills above level one.

"Deepest Hells," Wick cursed.