[Congratulations you have leveled up to Level 2.]

Adam stared at the pop-up for a moment, level 2? He had really leveled up. Nothing seemed different. Adam opened his status screen.

[Adam - Human

Level 2

No Class

Daggers E 1/100

STR 1

END 1

AGI 1

CON 1

INT 1

WIS 1]

What was this, he had leveled up but none of his stats had risen. Even his proficiency was the same, although that increased based upon use and he technically hadn’t even hit an enemy once with his dagger. The vast majority of unawakened people who leveled up usually got a point in one or two different stats, at least that’s what Adam had heard. When the village lumberjack had risen to level 3 he had gained a point of strength and constitution.

“Congratulations Adam you leveled up!” squealed Naomi with delight. She bounced up and down for a moment before regaining her composure.

“Yes, I did, thank you,” Adam replied sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. It was true after all but nothing had changed for him, only the number next to his level. Could it even really be called a level up?

Alastair snorted and shot Adam a sidelong glance.

“Don’t say that I never gave you anything, orphan. A level up is more than you deserve. The fact that we earned less experience as a result of your presence is abhorrent.”

Adam gritted his teeth and stormed up to Alastair, who raised an eyebrow as Adam approached.

“How dare you,” Adam shouted. His face was flushed and his lips curled. “You left me to die!”

“How dare I? How dare you speak to me in such a manner, we saved you after you almost got yourself killed.” Alastair shot back with a slight smile.

Adam took another step forward, his hands balled into fists. Alastair raised his sword pressing the blade against Adam’s chest.

“You forget yourself,” Alastair spat, his eyes fixing Adam with a glare. “I will not suffer such indignation from a peasant like you.”

Maximus stepped between the two. His bulk forcibly pushed the two apart. Adam stepped back, his hands relaxing. Alastair was a pompous ass but this wasn’t the time or the place. Not that there ever would be, even if his family was disgraced Alastair was still a noble.

“We shouldn’t be fighting amongst ourselves, we could still be in danger here,” said Maximus looking down at Adam. “And you should apologize to Alastair, things happen in a fight, all of our lives are on the line. You shouldn’t have reproached him as such.”

Adam was shocked but he shouldn’t have been totally surprised. Maximus was the son of the mine foreman, and he was the closest thing to a friend that Alastair kept in the town of Lockinge. In the same way that the mine foreman was the right hand of the town’s owner, Maximus was Alastair’s right hand.

“This is ridiculous,” Adam said, glaring up at Maximus. Adam turned his glare to Alastair. “I’m sorry for my outburst.”

“I don’t like the look in your eyes, it’s insolent. But I’m tired of this place, we should get back, I accept your apology for what it is.”

The party crossed the stone bridge and entered a tunnel at the back of the cavern. It didn’t take long and they soon found themselves outside. They had emerged unsurprisingly in the forest just outside of town. The tops of some of the houses could be seen down the hill through the trees.

As the entrance to the town came into view a loud cry erupted from the throngs of people crowded around the entrance. It seemed that the whole town was out. A party of people stood out in the middle of the crowd, their outfits at odds with the plain attire of the townsfolk around them. At their center stood a man clad in silk, an ornate badge clasped to his breast, displaying the purple manticore and crest of the kingdom. A royal advisor.

Alastair flicked his golden curls to the side and strode straight toward the man. At ease with being the center of attention, the party followed behind. The man stepped forward, his arms spread wide.

“Triumphant does the party return,” the man said beaming.

“Of course,” Alastair said, flashing a smile. “The task was trivial with my skills.”

“Naturally,” the man said, still beaming. “But of course there’s still the all important question that we need answered. The reason we sent you into our little dungeon to begin with.”

“Our stat growth,” replied Alastair, although the question did not need an answer.

The advisor motioned to one of the figures behind him snapping his fingers. A woman wearing a dark blue robe and large pointed hat with a big brim stepped forward. She had a golden staff secured to her back, its shaft a twisting weave of golden strands. A large clear crystal was affixed to the end of the staff, it glinted in the sunlight.

[Melinda Orrvis - Level ??]

Melinda held out a palm sized stone, it was white and emblazoned with intricate swirling blue lines cut into the surface. It was a magical device used to measure a person's stats. They had used it before departing to the fake dungeon.

“If you would please,” said the advisor motioning to the stone.

Alastair took a step forward and placed his hand upon the stone. If glowed faintly at first, then began to glow in intensity. Melinda pulled a small stone card out from under the measuring stone, words and numbers were transcribed upon its surface. She compared it to another card that she produced from her robes. Her brows knit together as she chewed for a moment on her bottom lip.

“This is incredible,” she barely breathed.

“Well tell us Director, what are his stat growths,” demanded the advisor.

Melinda studied the stone cards a moment longer. The party of people around her leaned in trying to get a look. A big man clad in armor with a red cape whistled absently.

[Dristan Haynes - Level ??]

“Well what is it Knight Commander, will somebody speak,” said the advisor, his face flushing.

“It’s an average growth rate of 3.5,” Melinda breathed again, her eyes transfixed upon the stone cards in her hands.

“Three and a half,” replied the advisor. His eyes grew wide and his face slackened.

The party descended into a clamor. It wasn't anger so much as disbelief and excitement. A lot of words were thrown around. Unprecedented, historic, balance of power, and even the word hero. They all turned to look at Alastair. The boy was confused for a moment, but when he realized that the attention was now back on him he smirked and flicked his hair, a trademark mannerism.

“Test the rest of them,” whispered the advisor.

“You don’t have to tell me,” replied Melinda, annoyed.

The rest of the youths were tested similarly. Maximus scored a 3 which drew similar astonishment. Lynn scored a 2.8 which still elicited quite a bit of chatter. And finally Naomi scored a 3.2 growth rate.

“This is beyond our imaginings, the average is a 0.6 growth. Even the Holy Sword Saint was a 3, they’re all heroes,” exclaimed the advisor. He raised his hands, quieting the din of excited chatter all around. “I hereby declare in the name of the king, and for the peace and security of the Kingdom of Choras, the immediate remanding into the protective custody of the royal advisorship, the four youths from Lockinge!”

There was an immediate uproar. Melinda and Dristan were yelling at the advisor. Even a man in ornate priestly robes who had sat quietly on the sidelines was up and yelling. The townsfolk were chattering in disbelief and wonder. To be taken into the custody of the royal court, without debate or question, it was for all intents and purposes a royal appointment, or perhaps a forced conscription. And given the youth’s proficiencies and stats it wasn’t even a surprise. Their lives were set now for greatness.

It took several arm waves and shouts for the royal advisor to get the crowd under control. Finally silence settled upon the gathering.

“This is completely ridiculous,” said Melinda, crossing her arms. “You cannot lay claim to each one of these children. The guilds and the institutions of this kingdom will not accept it.”

“You are of course referring to their potential,” replied the advisor, eyeing the blue robed figure.

“Of course I am, it is too much power for one institution to hold!”

“Come now, this is the crown you are talking about,” balked the advisor. “The royal family rules by divine right and the will of the senate and by extension the people. You are just as much a subject of the kingdom as anyone else. Or perhaps you wish to usurp the authority of the king?”

“How dare you,” Melinda barked. She raised her hands and the golden staff on her back came to life floating above her head, its clear jewel flashing a burning crimson. The air around it shimmered as it thrummed with power.

Dristan leapt between the angry mage and the advisor, his hands raised in a calming manner.

“Mel please,” he insisted.

She glared at him, her eyes as fiery as the jewel on her staff. Moments passed but they seemed to stretch on uncomfortably, the power radiating from her staff a threat in and of itself. Soon the staff sank back down and came to rest in a holder upon her back, the jewel once again turning clear as glass. Melinda turned her gaze to the advisor, her eyes no less fiery than before.

“To make such a statement was inappropriate, even in jest. As one of the Royal Advisor Corps, you know as well as any of the balance we keep within this kingdom. I am a loyal subject of his majesty, and the Arcane Collegium continues to stand for the strength and betterment of the realm.”

“Of course, forgive my humors,” said the advisor. “And of course the Royal Advisor Corps, and by extension the royal family and the king, will not monopolize the new heroes. We do not have the specialized facilities or teachers that these four so rightly deserve.”

The royal advisor swept his gaze over the four youths. They stood listening intently, their futures already decided by royal decree in proxy. Their parents stood behind them. Alastair’s parents dressed in fancy attire so far removed from the common folk of the town, yet still several seasons dated compared to the capital. Maximus’ father, a towering burly man of the mines. Lynn’s parents, simple town folk and tailors. And finally Naomi’s parents, simple farmers in patched clothes.

“To that end, the Royal Advisor Corps decrees as such. Lynn Relgis will be under the purview of the Arcane Collegium, under Director Melinda Orrvis. Naomi Hilliard will be inducted into the Holy Church of Solis, under Cardinal Michael Fulton. Maximus Durand will be commissioned into the People’s Army, under Knight Commander Dristan Haynes. Finally Alastair Fulbright will remain under the watchful eye of the Royal Advisors.”

The crowd chattered excitedly. The party surrounding the advisor seemed to relax at the new proclamation. They began to talk to their new charges, introductions mostly. The royal advisor cleared his throat.

“All of the aforementioned youths will of course attend the Royal Academy for the standard length of three years to graduation. All of your institutions have holdings at the academy, I trust that this will not be a problem, as it is non negotiable. You may of course have them fulfill any duties pertaining to your institutions, so long as they do not interfere with their studies.”

There was a moment of silence. Melinda narrowed her eyes at the advisor, but she soon nodded her agreement along with the others.

“Very good, we shall make preparations to depart immediately,” said the royal advisor.

“Um excuse me,” said Naomi’s father. The simple farmer had taken a step forward, his body shaking.

“Yes?” Said the advisor looking at the man.

“We are but simple folk, farmers of this village. We have not the money to send our daughter away, and when would we see her again?”

“Is that all,” the advisor laughed. “My good man, you are no longer mere farmers. You are the sire of a hero. All expenses will be taken care of for Naomi, and you and your wife will be supplied a dwelling near your daughter, along with a generous stipend for living expenses.”

The man’s eyes lit up and he seemed about to burst into tears. He fell to the ground and wept. Naomi and his wife comforted him, raising him to his feet.

“Now if that is all we must make preparations to,” began the advisor.

“What about the boy with the dagger,” asked a new voice from behind the advisor’s party near the crowd. A man stepped forward, he wore a simple wide brimmed felt sun hat and cloak, a sword was clasped around his waist.

[Malchus Barnett- Level ??]

“Ah I had forgotten that you were here,” said the advisor, turning to the man. “Who are you talking about?”

Malchus lifted the brim of his hat and pointed to Adam. All eyes turned to stare at Adam, forgotten until now. Adam shrunk away involuntarily. Who was this man and why had he singled Adam out.

“You mean the village orphan,” replied the advisor.

“Yes, what are his stats?”

Adam held up a hand as if to ward off the question, or perhaps to will the wall of eyes to look elsewhere.

“Oh, um, actually when I leveled up my stats didn’t change at all,” Adam replied, doing his best to keep his voice from breaking.

Both Alastair and Malchus laughed. Whereas Alastair’s laugh was full of callousness and mirth. Malchus had a rich, almost warm candor to it.

“What could the servants of the tower possibly want with an orphan from some backwoods,” asked the advisor, his eyes narrowed as he watched Malchus.

“That’s my business,” said Malchus with a shrug. “But the tower always needs more people.”

“Fair enough,” replied the advisor. “Alright then, everyone make preparations to leave, I want to reach the academy as soon as possible, we have quite the journey ahead of us.”

The crowd began to disperse as the advisor and his group began to clear out. Soon only Malchus and Adam remained. Malchus approached.

“Do I even get a say in this matter,” inquired Adam.

Malchus regarded Adam for a moment. His eyes scanned him up and down, perhaps taking the measure of the youth. It was hard to say. At length Malchus spoke.

“Would you rather stay in this village,” Malchus said, he turned and began to walk off down the road without waiting for Adam’s reply.

Adam watched the cloaked figure with the large sun hat walk away. He looked around at the village for a moment and then followed.