Eli shoved himself into the chair, his feet leaving the worked stone floor. With a full stomach, he'd set out for quests and, guided by his map, found the Adventurer's Guild. It was an impressive stone tower near the center of Westshire, with battlements and guards, and filled with people trying to earn coin by taking quests, or in his case, with people applying for guild membership.

He glared at the small wooden tile in his hand; one side stamped with a depiction of a stag. He scanned the surrounding room, quickly counting other potential tile holders, then looked at the six alcoves where clerks would process guild applications. Only one seemed open, the clerk there engaging a woman with bright orange hair. Eli couldn't hear what they said, but the furious shaking of her orange tresses made him feel it wasn't going well for her.

"An awful lot of courage you have." a bronze armored warrior nudged him from the side. "applying to the guild as small as you." Eli turned to see him. He was bronze-skinned, his head shaved save for a long blonde topknot.

"I'm bigger than I look," Eli replied, his lips twisting into a smile.

"Stop teasing the boy. This isn't easy for any of us. Besides, size doesn't matter, depending on your path. I'm Leandra and this brute is Andras," the woman in blue and silver armor sitting across from Eli introduced herself. She was fair-skinned, with fine features and brilliant golden eyes. Her black hair was long and straight and glimmered. "I'm a Cleric. What's your path?"

"Path? Right, I still need to choose one." Eli replied.

"What do you mean, choose one? Even the maddest ones have paths. It is something you are born with." Leandra's eyes tightened, and her brow furrowed.

"Can you imagine if everyone could choose their own path? We would all be flying around or slinging magic everywhere." Andras snorted, then fell into a fit of laughter.

It took a second for Eli to realize the confusion. None of these people are real. Created by the system fully formed, or born to parents using some systems' algorithm, they were artificial. Eli looked around at the crowd. There were some in armor, some in robes, some tall, fat, thin, old, young. Each engaged in conversations with the other. None of them real. He listened to some conversations: "Said she wouldn't marry me unless I could lift her sow over my head!" and "The best way to kill thumpers is to slice em right when they peek out, razorwire right around the hole." and "Two more B-ranked quests and I'll get my steel badge."

"Or maybe we'd all be Artificers living in our fancy towers with all our trinkets and toys." Andras was still laughing. Eli turned his attention back to them but said nothing.

"I'd have picked that. To be rich and have one of those... mechanicals. It would follow me around, holding all my bags when I went shopping." Leandra's laughter was delightful to hear. When she finally stopped laughing and looked back at Eli, and noticed he wasn't laughing she sat up straight in her chair, her mouth flattened into a thin line.

"Wait, you're serious?" Leandra slid towards the edge of her chair, her eyes locking onto his.

Eli nodded. He felt the chair press into his back as he pushed himself away. These people might not be real, but the truth was real, at least. If he started lying... No. It's too easy to confuse what is real enough as it is.

"Everyone has a path. It is as the winds will it." She looked flatly at him, her glare betraying her disbelief.

In the adjacent row, a robed magus was listening. The son of a wealthy diplomat, he wasn't usually one to entertain his lessors. But he'd been here since early morning. With any distraction welcome, he stood up and imperiously walked over.

"Mind if I verify that claim?" he asked, his expression dubious. Before Eli could reply a glow came from the man's outstretched hand, a quick burst that looked like a white ring of energy expanding outward passed over Eli. He felt nothing. Knock.

His brow furrowed, then his eyes opened wide, then closed as he blinked a few times. He sat down on the other side of Eli. "He doesn't have a path. He doesn't have any... levels." He considered it: It shouldn't be possible. You are born at level one. "It's like they have wiped away his entire life."

Curious, Eli reviewed his log.

Diamedes cast ability Examine.

You have learned the skill: Powercraft

Powercraft has increased by 1.

"Yeah, no levels yet either," Eli confirmed. He focused on the magus in the wine-colored robes.

Diamedes Lexstrad

Magus - level 8

That's interesting. I don't have to use an ability to see people's levels, but they do?

"No levels?" a squeak came from behind him. Eli turned to look over his shoulder. The squeak came from a rather full-figured woman. She wore sheer lavender fabric, overlaid with purple leather. She had wide blue eyes, painted with white and blue stripes. Her plump lips were the color of blueberries.

"Are you insane, child? Pick your path right now!" She darted around to his row, her white skin flush with red from the exertion. "With no levels, you're like a baby, weaker than a baby, you could die from a fall or a cold." With practiced ease, a fan appeared in her purple-gloved hand. She fanned herself nervously. "My winds.... I can't believe you're still alive! Excuse me, dear." she turned to Leandra before sitting down next to her.

"This is Delle," Diamedes introduced her. "She has a flair for the... dramatic."

"Hurry, pick something, pick Magus, pick Skysworn. Oh my winds," Delle closed her eyes and breathed in and out quickly, her fan working frantically.

Oh. Maybe that's why I only have eight health?

"I enjoy creating things. I was hoping to pick a path that would let me do that," Eli prodded for some information.

"Artificer's the only crafter's path, but they are exceedingly rare and consequently always overworked. Do not pick that if you value your free time." Diamedes muttered, still absorbed in thought. "Magus is the only logical choice. The spirit shield, mana regeneration, powerful magic. Servants."

Artificer. That sounded interesting to Eli.

"With your size, you could be a Warden, they are ranged fighters," Andras offered a hesitant suggestion, having stopped laughing. Leandra sat silently in her chair, looking at Eli with an inscrutable expression.

"Oh winds, just pick something. Anything. I'm so nervous." Delle said again, her fan furious.

Eli searched the menu until he found the path interface. When he selected it, the room faded away. In its place the night sky filled his vision. The sky was deep purple, blue, and black and illuminated by a circle of constellations that depicted all the starting paths. It felt real. The night felt cooler. He could hear the sounds of cicadas, smell the clean air, and once again he was struck with the beauty of this place. Eli looked at the names written large across the heavens, the names of the starting paths: Champion, Warden, Artificer, Magus, Gladiator, Soldier, and Skysworn. Each of the paths started with a single star. He focused on the Artificer's starting star.

Mentant

5% increase spell damage

+5 to Spirit

Grants access to Basic Artificer Interface

I see. So you pick adjacent stars to create a path, the further you go, the more divergent and unique your path. He tried to follow one path till the end, but after ten stars he could no longer access their details. He looked for Cleric, Leandra's path. It wasn't among the starting options. So maybe a specialized path you access later?

Eli selected Mentant and confirmed his selection.

When he closed the interface, the room returned as before. He saw his health and manna indicators drop to almost nothing. His manna started filling back up almost immediately, his health started refilling shortly after. He reviewed the event log, noting his new level and path selection. I went from 8 health to 60 just like that.

"Gladiator might not be bad, you're small, but if you're fast enough..." Diamedes was offering further suggestions.

"I picked Artificer." Eli said, cutting the man short.

"Just like that?" Leandra blurted out. "Just... now you're an Artificer?"

"Mind if I check again?" Diamedes inquired. This time he waited for Eli to respond before casting Examine again. After he confirmed what Eli already knew, that he was a level one Artificer, everyone went silent.

"Well thank the winds," Delle said, breaking the silence. "To think you were walking around with no levels. Think of the tragedy, the world robbed of a promising Artificer from an insect bite." She pretended to swoon at the tale she invented, fanning herself for effect.

Eli smiled. She's fun. What he didn't find fun was that the only open clerk was still engaged in a now louder conversation with the orange-haired women. I'll run out of power before I can join this guild. The thought of that sobered him instantly.

"Dying by insect bite sounds better than getting eaten by a wolf." Eli shivered, "hearing the sounds of your bones being cracked as it eats your corpse." He said. He shivered again at how creepy it sounded. Some things really don't work in a child's voice.

"Dear, being eaten by a wolf could happen to anybody. No, it's the ridiculousness of juxtaposing the death by insect bite against the loss of an Artificer that makes the tale so tragic." She humphed. "Best to leave the narration to me child."

"Call me Legend." Eli finally introduced himself.

"Delle, I don't think you understand." Mouth dry, Diomedes went pale. That would explain how he was able to choose his path. He slid away from the boy. "He... Legend is saying he died already. That a wolf ate him."

Leandra laughed again. It was a nervous, brittle laugh. "That's a good one, you died already." Looking at Eli, she became silent once again. She glanced over to Andras, who looked nervously back at her.

"I did get eaten by a wolf." It wasn't his proudest moment, but he'd lived through it. Sorta.

"And you remember it? It wasn't a dream? I heard some have those." Andras asked.

"It wasn't a dream. And yes, it's not something one forgets," Eli replied.

Leandra stood. Her long hair started to rise as pale blue energy crackled around her. Diamedes and Andras evacuated the seats nearest Eli. Delle's eyes were wide, her fan having sped up to comical speeds.

"Boy, what you speak is blasphemy." The energy around condensed into pale blue plates that reinforced her underlying armor, it illuminated the surrounding space.

"Call me Legend. My name is Legend," Eli said. "I'm getting a little tired of everyone calling me boy."

Why would it be a big deal if I remember dying? He listened to the whispers of the crowd. "What's going on?", "He said he remembered dying.", "He said what?", "A boy named Legend? Is he daft?" Eli refocused on Leandra.

"Legend, do you remember dying yes or no?" Her voice was dead calm; her eyes clear, unblinking.

The question was simple and clear, but as every other person in the waiting area stood and turned to watch, Eli couldn't help but conclude he had missed something.

"I Leandra, Cleric of the Wind, Daughter of Alisio," she pulled a sword from her back and held it in front of her, blade pointing to the sky. Long, silver, the blade's edge thrummed with blue power that shook the surrounding air. "Hereby swear on the winds that carry my father's soul. Should you prove a heretic, you will receive judgment."

"This isn't necessary, Leandra," Diamedes interjected but didn't step forward. Andras laid one hand on the magus' shoulder and shook his head.

Eli looked at her. She was fierce and beautiful; even now, with her icy stare, her features set against him. How has it gotten to this? He stood to his feet and slipped the tile in his bag. He wondered where he would respawn when she killed him. He felt like a child. Clearly, he was no match for this woman, but neither would he capitulate under threat of force. What is true is true.

"I remember," he said.

Her eyes widened at his response, her golden pupils dilating. She breathed in. The world slowed. She looked on at the boy; the heretic. His hair, a collection of smoky brown curls argued which way to fall. His skin, a light brown, had the barest touch of sun. His eyes. His eyes were radiant in the vibrant green of a young fern. His eyes see more than they should. She felt exposed. You have forced me to this.

One tear swelled. She felt it form, then leave as the wind pulled it away when she stepped toward the heretic. Her father's sword came down, then up in a practiced arc, forming a vibrant blue line that she expertly directed through the child. The heretic.

It was a perfect strike; the blade passing through his neck. Except it did nothing. Her eyes having focused on the room beyond, turned to look at the unharmed boy. It passed through him as though he were made of the wind itself. She stood motionless. Her eyes fixed on him, watching as just now his eyes began to widen in recognition of her attack. She felt the blade fall from her hand, watched it slowly drift towards the floor.

She heard it clattered against the stone, breaking the silence. She breathed out. Windborn. She fell to her knees, her face turned away, her breathing now labored.

With a weak voice Leandra said, "Forgive me, my lord."

Eli reached down, his hand coming to rest on her head.

Delle's fan, going non-stop since the start, finally stopped as she fainted.