Days passed and Sepeti settled into a groove. Despite feeling well enough to venture out on his own, he allowed the caretakers and Gran to push him around the sprawling oasis city of Extuahal-Tol. For a few hours each day, they would show him the sights while slowly teaching him the many local customs.

He learned of the ongoing geomantic efforts of the Extuano. A large part of their society revolved around the painstaking work of converting the vast arid Zen desert into arable, livable land. Inch by inch, they worked to make room for their ever growing population. The Extuano were more than happy to share their methods with Sepeti and he was able to learn geomancy. He found the minutiae fascinating, the ingenious ways the Extuano were utilizing their geomancy to terraform their surroundings were genuinely interesting to him. Some of their methods involved techniques that vaguely resembled ones that he’d learned on his homeworld. He wasn’t one for lingering on nostalgia but he did enjoy the sense of being able to learn something wholeheartedly.

Despite their seemingly theistic veneer, Sepeti was surprised to find that the Extuano were much more practical and secular than he’d first thought. Many, like the caretakers and healers, were devout Sun worshippers. But the majority of the Extuano were much more reserved when it came to infusing theism into their daily language.

He still found the odd rhyming language off putting. The first few days had been trying. He found it incredibly annoying that he was constantly having to infer what the caretakers and the few Extuano they stopped and spoke with were saying. He had Gran as a buffer but Sepeti had quickly figured out that the old giant was just as, if not more, confused as he was most of the time. If the man wasn’t busy talking about one thing or another, he was usually spacing out and lost in his own world. He was much more mercurial than even Boba, constantly flitting in and out of tiresome conversations to interject tidbits of knowledge.

Thankfully, the idiot Boba hadn’t been by since their last cryptic interaction. Sepeti was having a hard enough time dealing with Gran’s constant questions about his background. He didn’t need the God to come around and disturb what little peace he had when he found himself alone and resting. Still, Sepeti wondered why the God had sounded so desperate the last time they’d spoken. Boba was a God after all, what could he possibly be worried about? He hadn’t seemed to be too worried about Sepeti and the contract when he’d first arrived, so why was he suddenly begging for a new contract now?

Something told Sepeti that Boba had discovered some stipulation set by Journal. That something wasn’ t making much sense but he found it much easier to trust his gut when it came to these things. Whatever it was, he’d find out sooner or later. Hopefully it was after he was fully healed and able to walk. He had yet to test out his leg but he was sure it was ready to go. The only thing holding him back was the caretakers. They’d set out a timeline for him and were, surprisingly, unwilling to detour from the set course. According to their estimates, he was still a full two weeks away from full recovery. He found this incredibly annoying. Not that he was in any rush, he just didn’t like being told what to do and the constant attention was draining.

As was their usual routine, the caretakers pushed Sepeti along the outskirts of the city-state. Days and hours of exploration and they still had yet to visit more than half of the vast city. The sprawling cityscape was much larger than he’d first expected, something akin to the vast metropolises that he could remember from his first life. Unlike those dreary cities from his homeworld, this one was much more vibrant and alive.

Colors were everywhere in Extuahal-Tol. Vibrant reds and deep greens, Summery oranges and floral pinks. The people dressed simply but vibrantly, usually a bright color paired with a white base to help fend off the heat. Even the buildings were draped in colorful cloth and painted different colors.

Sepeti appreciated the straightforwardness of the city planning. The houses and buildings, no matter what part of the city-state they visited, were arrayed in a grid. Every building had an awning that provided shade at all times of the day. The owners of the buildings hung ornaments and chimes from the awnings so there was always a faint chiming throughout the city. In the few moments when the caretakers or Gran weren’t speaking, Sepeti could make out the chimes. They rang pleasantly even when there didn’t seem to be any wind blowing through.

“Ya heard them, right sonny?” the giant asked as they walked along. Over the past few days of their acquaintanceship, Gran was rarely not fiddling with something. If it wasn’t his beard, it was a notebook that he kept tucked in the chest pocket of his tattered vest.

Sepeti nodded. He was going on a full week of not speaking more than a hundred words a day. He stubbornly clung to his silence, unwilling to have to speak in rhymes. If he could get out of the vibrant city without having uttered a single rhyme, he’d be happy.

Gran nodded at Ciel-Ko, the lady caretaker, as she pushed Sepeti.

“Very well, all is well/ We shall stop by the Association/ There, they will assign you a designation/ I’m sure they will be open ‘til the last bell.” Her sing-songy voice was the only thing that made the odd speech pattern bearable.

Mo-Ka’ilo, the bald, often brooding caretaker, walked silently next to them. Out of the pair, he was the stickler about the recovery timeline. Probably, in Sepeti’s mind, because he’d developed it himself. If the man could have had it his way, Sepeti would have still been bedridden. He offered a noncommittal grunt which was ignored by the rest of the group.

“Ah, the Association,” Gran said as he padded along next to Sepeti’s magical wheelchair. Of the group, the giant was the only one who didn’t see the need to walk under the awnings. Probably due to the fact that he would probably knock down most of the hanging decorations and chimes. “They’re a proper bunch, they are. It’s been a while since I last checked in with ‘em. The receptionist’ll probably scold me.”

The giant chuckled to himself, scratching his chin as he padded along. Sepeti couldn’t help but stare, yet again, at the giant. He’d found himself doing this over the past few days. Something about the man bothered him. Maybe it was the mottled, slightly blue skin or the black tint to his eyes. Or maybe it was the way some of the giant’s sinewy muscles didn’t quite move the way they were supposed to. But something was off about the amiable giant. And Sepeti was going to figure it out even without the help of the useless status screen.

He’d been too preoccupied and groggy on their first meeting to check Gran’s screen. But he had done exactly that the next day and had found an odd sight that still bothered him. As before, he pulled up the screen and watched to see the giant could feel him doing so.

Character Screen

Name:

Gran d’emas Ter??

*subject level is too high, unable to discern viability of information

Level:

40??

*subject level is too high, unable to discern viability of information

Class:

Anthropologist/????

*subject level is too high, unable to discern viability of information

Title:

[The Insatiable]?????????????????

Sepeti poured over the screen, yet again. Just like the first time he’d laid eyes on it, he closed his eyes and let the smooth darkness highlight the status. It took all his concentration to keep the damned thing from slipping away. The first time he’d pulled it up, it had flickered and blinked out of sight as soon as his concentration lapsed.

As he scanned the jumbled mess of a status, the feeling in his gut grew. He was convinced, moreso today than the day before, that he couldn’t trust the giant. No matter how amiably the man acted with him or how much he yearned to find someone he could trust, he couldn’t. Not until he got all the necessary information.

The giant was obviously a powerful being. Sepeti had yet to gain a firm grasp on the power level of the world but he was pretty sure that Gran was up there. Normally, he wasn’t one to put much stock in arbitrary measurements like levels and whatnot. But he wasn’t going to hide his head in the sand and ignore the fact that levels were absolutely a thing here and that they were a barometer for something.

A chime rang in his ear and the image of the status faded away. Sepeti opened his eyes and found Gran and the caretakers staring at him. Mo-Ka’ilo tucked the chime into one of his many pockets, nodding to himself as if satisfied by something.

“They were worried you were coming down with something again,” Gran rumbled, filling him in.

Sepeti nodded, wiping his forehead so he could hide his face from the trio.

“He is fine/ Let us continue/ I hope the Association has some wine.” Gran’s stilted rhyme seemed to assuage the caretakers, for now, and they continued their journey.

Sepeti relaxed in the chair as he mulled over the mysterious giant’s status. As he thought about who or what Gran actually was, he circulated his mana and used |Meditation| - Take What You Need to tacitly absorb energy from his surroundings. He’d gained a better understanding of the balance needed to properly utilize the skill over the past few days. Seeing as he had little else to do but meditate and circulate he was steadily getting better at it. He regretted that he’d sucked so much nutrients from his second med slime bath that the caretakers were hesitant to let him use another. But he didn’t need another, at least not for now. He was content with his current rate of healing. No need to rush, as a former friend used to say all the time.

Sepeti opened his eyes as he sensed a slight shift in the air. The quality of the energy he was absorbing changed, just enough for him to break his surface level meditation. A tinge of sea salt clung to the air. The district they were entering looked different, much less vibrant than the parts of the city he’d seen so far. All the buildings were naked, unadorned with colorful swatches of paint and cloth. They were much more industrial looking, imposing even.

“This is the foreign district,” Gran murmured as he noticed the way Sepeti was looking around them. “Houses most of the visitors and travelers. A little drab compared to the rest of the city but still just as hospitable. The Association’s set up here because it doubles as an embassy and allows for easy access to the docks.”

Gran pointed at the only building Sepeti had seen that was higher than a single story. “That's our destination. You’ll have to ready yourself to answer some questions. They’ll have a good amount for you.”

“Oh,” Gran said as he leaned a bit closer to Sepeti. The giant's face grew uncomfortably close and Sepeti could make out a sickly-sweet odor coming from the large man. “You might wanna speak Common when you talk to ‘em. I don’t think they have anyone that can understand our language. Also, keep the Offworlder bit to yourself. For now, anyway.”

Sepeti caught himself as he was about to break his silence. What the hell was Common? He only had three language skills and none of them were Common. On top of that, he still wasn’t sure which language Gran was speaking to him. The giant was either speaking Monster or Huhune and he damn sure wasn’t going to be speaking either language consciously. As far as he was aware, all the languages sounded the same to him. The only time he had ever heard Extuahn-Lo or Huhune being spoken in their natural setting was before he had been given the skills. With the skills, they all sounded like his old tongue just with nuanced accents and different cadences.

Sepeti nodded as Gran straightened himself with a slight grin, showing off his eerily straight teeth. It seemed that he would have to meander through the upcoming encounter blindly. He wanted to ask for help but his pride forbade him from doing so. Or rather, his unwillingness to reveal the fact that he was able to communicate with his caretakers.

A pair of double doors swung open as Gran led the way. Sepeti had forgotten how imposing doors could be, seeing as the Extuano used sliding partitions and mesh-like dividers in all their buildings. Voices rushed out at them as a myriad of languages bounced around within the walls of the Association building. It was surprising how much larger the interior was in comparison to the modest, drab looking exterior.

People of all shapes, colors, and sizes sprinkled the large hall. Unlike what he’d expected, the Association building reminded him more of a restaurant than an embassy. Tables and chairs, filled with visitors and locals alike, were placed strategically around the room. In the middle of the various meeting tables was a reception desk, slightly elevated to allow the attending receptionists to see across the room unhindered.

Sepeti spotted four large notice boards sitting against the far end of the room, tucked away under a discreet looking staircase that was roped off. Groups of people crowded around the boards, studying the papers and posters hanging from them. He watched them as Ciel-Ko pushed him up to the reception desk.

Gran boomed in a familiar yet strange language as he appeared to greet the receptionist. He slapped the counter with a meaty hand and toppled a stack of papers over the edge. The harried young woman snatched the documents out of the air before they hit the ground, ready for the large man’s boisterous greeting.

Sepeti watched the exchange, more interested in the language than what was actually being said. It sounded so familiar yet so foreign. What were the odds that he’d encounter a language that resembled his childhood dialect on a backwater planet far off in a corner of the Expanse?

They had to be astronomical, right? Even without a skill he was sure he could parse the meaning of whatever they were saying. He was sure that he’d be able to obtain the skill without much fuss. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to constantly rely on Boba’s whim when it came to him learning new languages. That would just make things much more aggravating.

Sepeti watched the pair and was able to pick up that the girl's name was Sweets. Just from her face alone, he could tell that she wasn’t very happy with seeing Gran. The giant rambled, not even giving her a chance to chastise him. His rumbling voice washed out any attempts the girl made at a conversation. Sepeti would have felt bad for her but he was glad someone else had to deal with his one-sided rants.

He found Common soothing. Some of the words sounded like ones he knew while others just sounded nonsensical. The more he listened, the easier it became to pick out sentence structures and infer meanings for the stranger words. Gran said his name a few times and he was pretty sure the giant was relaying something about his being an injured outsider.

Ciel-Ko stood behind Sepeti while Mo-Ka’ilo had wandered off to speak with some locals. The caretaker seemed happy to stand by and watch the uneven exchange with Sepeti.

Soon enough, the giant turned to them and motioned for them to approach the desk. Sepeti’s magical chair floated forward then upward, gaining some height so he could see over the elevated desk. The receptionist, Sweets, began speaking to him. Or rather, at him because she refused to make eye contact. Amidst a hail of words, the young woman pushed a stack of papers at him along with a metallic cylinder that resembled a pen. Then, without even taking a breath, the young woman turned to Gran and began berating him. The giant chuckled as he shuffled to the other end of the desk.

Sepeti watched as the large man laid his hand on a slab of metal. Well, the slab was supposed to fit his whole hand but it was only the size of his palm. A layer of light wrapped around Gran for a moment before retreating back into the slab. The old giant took his hand off and said something to the receptionist before flashing her a smile. Sepeti was pretty sure the giant was trying to be charming but he seemed to be achieving the opposite effect.

The receptionist noticed that the stack of papers remained untouched and she nudged them at Sepeti again. A twinge of annoyance spiked through him and he decided he wouldn’t make a move until she or Gran handed him the papers. He stared at her blankly, giving her his best approximation of a dead pan gaze as he could muster with one eye.

She met his gaze and their intense staredown began. Without moving his eye, Sepeti took in as much detail as he could. Her pale skin told him that she didn’t spend much time out under the blazing sun. Not that this was a particularly hard point to infer, what with her possibly being a full-time receptionist and all. But he was looking for anything to observe so he could extend their staredown until it became downright uncomfortable. He noticed the bags under her eyes, possibly hinting at extended nights filled with work. Which, again, was understandable with her line of work and all.

As the staredown continued, Sepeti’s mind wandered. He came to realize that he wasn’t as observant as he thought himself to be. Apart from her complexion and her tired looking eyes, he couldn’t find anything else that was interesting enough to keep his attention. Was he inattentive or did he just not care about other people all that much? He was pretty sure he was going to forget her name after this was over. So why was he going to such lengths to annoy her? It wasn’t like she’d slighted him or wronged him in any way. She’d just been a bit brusque, in his mind anyway.

Sepeti talked himself down and sheepishly reached out for the stack of papers, averting his eye. He didn’t feel ashamed, just disappointed in himself. He wasn’t an asshole, was he? He didn’t have a right to act like an ass to others just going about their business just because some other asshole had put him in a no-win predicament. He needed to seriously reconsider his attitude.

Or not. The moment of self-loathing passed as he gave the papers a once over. He didn’t understand a thing but he was able to infer what it was asking for. Seeing Common in writing helped form his understanding further and he used the opportunity to shore up his shoddy knowledge of the familiar-yet-foreign language. Much of the alphabet matched up to the language he knew, down to the very fact that there seemed to be eighteen letters that formed the basic alphabet.

A message dinged and, for once, excitement coursed through him at the thought of gaining a new skill.

New Skill Acquired!

|Language: Common|

All at once, the general hubbub that filled the room was translated as understanding filled his mind.

“Ya heard the rumors?”

“About the dragon they found, yeah I heard…”

“Go next door and grab us some coffees…”

“It’s so tiring speaking in rhyme…”

He hadn’t noticed how loudly the people in the room were speaking until he could understand them. It dawned on him that all the foreigners were much louder than the locals. Most seemed to be speaking at the top of their lungs as if they were speaking to the whole room. Interesting tidbits melded into the cacophonous ramblings, drowned out by random recountings of their days and meetings and such.

After a few minutes of listening, the noise levels eventually leveled out and he was able to focus on the papers. It surprised him to find that the skill was bundled with the ability to read and write as well. As he’d parsed earlier, the documents were little more than identification forms asking for all his basic information. He felt no need to forge any of his information so he began filling it all in.

For whatever reason, the Association felt they needed to reiterate certain points in their packet. The one that caught Sepeti’s eye was the point about falsified information, specifically level and class. Both pieces of information came with waivers and binding oaths that were worked into the verbiage of the packet. Sepeti was able to quickly disassemble and understand the magic behind the binding oaths, recognizing that they were little more than primitive forms of his Runic Writing magic. He found it both intriguing and disturbing that a form of magic from his homeworld had ended up here.

Messages dinged in his head as he dispelled the oath. He ignored the chiming as he continued to fill out the paperwork.

“Gran,” Sepeti whispered, head still bent over the paperwork. He was confident in breaking his silence as both caretakers had wandered off. He motioned for the giant to get closer. “What level should I put?”

“What level are ya?”

“I ain’t telling you that.”

“Damn, thought I’d get ya with that one. Just put level five.”

Sepeti quickly scribbled in the falsified level, noticing that the giant hadn’t been too worried about the waivers and oaths either. His suspicion that Gran had also falsified his information was confirmed. This further solidified his hypothesis that the status screens weren’t as trustworthy as they made themselves out to be. There was definitely a way to game the system and there was some inherent jank. He’d have to think about this more when he was alone.

He handed the finished packet to the receptionist, who was busy ignoring him by fiddling with the metal slab.

“Now, Mr. Septi, I--”

“It’s Sepeti,” he interrupted. “Seh-peh-tea.”

“Right, Mr. Se…” her voice trailed off as he watched her work his name out in her head. His name was neither easy nor hard to pronounce but he had long learned to not let people improperly pronounce his name. It was a pet peeve that carried through multiple lives.

“Sepeti,” he repeated slowly, breaking his name down into its syllabic parts again. “Just like that.”

“Sepeti,” Gran repeated, grinning inanely for some reason. Either the old giant was making fun of the receptionist or he was making fun of Sepeti. It didn’t matter which, as long as Sepeti got his point across.

“Yes, thank you.” Sweets said carefully. “Mr. Sepeti, please place your hand on the Idennio so we can confirm your registration.”

She slid the metal slab closer to where he was floating. It scraped across the wooden desk, obviously much heavier than it looked. Whatever the metal was, it had to possess some sort of magic property. He’d love to tinker with it and learn about it. Maybe later, if he ever got on the receptionist's good side and won her over.

Sepeti placed his hand on the slab and was surprised to find that it was warm to the touch. It felt like someone else had just taken their hand off of it. It neither absorbed any of the heat from his hand nor did its temperature seem to grow. Rather, it stayed an even warmth. At first, he found it pleasing to the touch. Then the thin layer of light shot out from the slab and enveloped him. He could feel it, sitting on top of his skin like a thin film. It was an odd sensation, to say the least.

“Thank you, you can--” the receptionist was in the middle of reaching towards his hand when a layer of darkness jumped out of the Idennio and settled over the layer of light.

“Oh,” she gasped, pulling her hand back. Her eyes grew wide with confusion.

Sepeti was also confused as he watched the dark layer begin to consume the light layer. Screams echoed in his head as an invisible force pressed down on him. For a singular fraction of a second, an ancient, incomprehensible voice whispered in his ear. Then, the darkness ripped the layer of light off of him and receded back into the measurement slab.

“You ok, boy?” Gran asked between chuckles. “That was interesting.”

Sweets quickly recovered her composure as she reached out and lifted Sepeti’s hand off of the Idennio. The smell hit his nostrils before the sound did. Something was branded into his palm. The skin burned brightly for a second, sizzling loudly before settling. Seconds passed as the brand healed and set itself.

The symbol was strange. It looked like the outline of an eye with a line running vertically down the middle. Within the eye were little scores that reminded Sepeti of the minute and second markers that old clocks had on their faces.

“A-anyways,” Sweets stammered as she struggled to slide the metallic slab back to its original spot. “We’ll have your ID and registration card ready in a couple of days. I-in the meantime…”

Her voice trailed off as she visibly calmed herself. The stammering wasn’t so bad but it was obvious it bothered her.

“In the meantime,” she said after a few seconds of calming herself. “I’ll have you wait in one of our conference rooms for the interview half of the registration.”

Magic Learned!

Binding Oaths {Minor}

Magic leveled up!

Runic Writing {Minor II}