《Majestic Fiend》Chapter 2: The power to change one's destiny
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Chapter 2: The power to change one's destiny
The moon was shining like a brilliant white eye on a field of stars. The settling city dust allowed the moon rays to create a ghostly mist. Up on a rooftop heated by the passing day's sun, the nanza-cat named Ssyba was contemplating in silence:
Brewing vraja potions, imbibing vraja potions in the adequate quantity, empowering the individual with the vraja potion's effects using the mana within every soul, which is inherently given by existing on Jord.
Brew, drink, use.
These three aspects encompassed the main tenets of human domination, and with peerless courage, curiosity and will to power, humanity had risen to the peak of creation. Each was a deep field of study with advancements being discovered, lost and rediscovered constantly.
In nature, there was nothing special about humans: take a horse for example, an animal many times stronger, more enduring and physically superior to even the most gifted human. Or a nanza-cat, who is generally considered to be the fastest land animal on Jord. Aye, and it is said that mythical beasts such as dragons possessed a much deeper intelligence, memory and a denser sense of wisdom accumulated over the centuries of their long lives. Yet humans had souls, and that made them unique among all things. They were the grandest, most majestic and at the same time cruelest creatures on Jord. It could be argued that the entire potential of creation resided inside the soul of each individual human, each soul containing a fragment of the great Yada (all that exists) and the heavenly realms beyond the firmament. Where the body was an anchor attached to the material world, of the same material the world was made of, the soul was an anchor to the divine realm.
But why is that the case?
Any one object was something with body, but no mind or soul. They where inanimate and possessed no further qualities outside of their given form and function.
Every animal and beast, be it a mythical angel-yak or a lowly insect, was something with both body and mind, able to be self sufficient and make sense of the world around them, but no souls to tie them to the heavens. They would make use of the reality and form thoughts and live, but living beasts would simply exist and die within the limited confines of the material plane.
Thus, humans stood upon the peak of creation and were the dominating life form on Jord. All the beasts and animals of the world could only live freely through numbers, fierceness and cunning. A bull might be stronger than a human, but a human could simply drink a strength vraja potion and gain the strength of three bulls.
***
Ssyba had been thinking for a long time tonight. Her animal metabolism made it that for her, being awake late into the night was nothing. The nightly fragrance and disappearing city noises shook the nanza-cat back into her senses.
Considering these worldly facts and filled with newly found determination and ambition, Ssyba hopped off the rooftop, landing easily in the unlit dusk of the street below. With skill and good planning, she could grab the reins of her destiny and break through her petty animal condition. Many things flashed through her still simple mind at that time. Could she drink a strength potion and wrestle in the gladiator pits for money? Such power would be above everything anyone could imagine, like a regular dog capable of biting through steel. Considering her options further, Ssyba thought about acquiring a steady supply of dexterity potions, maybe a speed potion and try her luck stealing bigger fish than mere purses and jewelry, and go on the Splendid Thievery path. Or she could somehow grab the attention of one of the princes and become a bodyguard.
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"This is such silliness!" she laughed under her paw.
These were of course all options available to any human with enough potential and resources, but for an animal, the path was simply too narrow if not utterly obstructed. Could a dog become king? She knew that she couldn't reveal the fact that she had a soul, for it would be an abomination under the heavens. Even if some wise men, mages or pundits took her seriously for study, where and how would she acquire materials for brewing? She had no wealth, no worth, and nobody would be foolish enough to invest in an impossibility. It was like giving a dog the Princedom of Yasha'Lafiq in the hopes that it would be smarter and stronger than the princes themselves.
"So what do I do now, hmm?" Ssyba scratched her ear.
She managed to collect her wits. After yesterday's nap and mad escape, a thin path started to form in her mind, like a tunnel through the morning Na-jid mist. She had the golden honey leaves on her person, and she could perhaps get the means of brewing them with her master's utensils. One step at a time, with patience, she would find a way to make use of her new and unique existence. But how would she do it without arousing suspicion?
"No need to go that far with my thoughts, yet," said Ssyba. First the only needed to get home and get her master to lower her guard and enter the potion's kitchen, where the usually had no access.
With that in mind, she carried on.
Ssyba walked on hind legs as naturally as she walked on all fours, like any nanza-cat, but she preferred to walk on two legs now. It somehow made her feel more elegant and humanly. That wasn't weird though. Like a poor man dressing himself in rich clothes to make a good impression, even at the cost of tonight's dinner, many nanza-cats would force themselves to stride on two legs and pretend to be important. Some nanza would even cover their already beautiful and rich natural fur with robes.
The thought angered Ssyba and she landed back on all fours, stalking quietly like an oversized predatory cat. She picked her way through the geography of peripheral city streets and ways, some brimming with people even in this late hour of the night and some devoid of even a spirit, dragged herself through a small port by a branching canal of the great God-river Na-jid, and finally found a villa leaning by one of the district walls. In line with the street it had low tables and mats arranged after a trend, like you would see at the fashionable coffee and tea-clubs in the central plaza, and silken pole roofs to keep shade during the day.
The moon was sparkling like a spring, turning the world silver. At the far end of the street, a pack of stray elemental dogs moved from spot to spot like spectral hounds, so Ssyba rushed to get inside before they could sense her. The elemental dogs of Yasha'Lafiq, many abandoned for their rowdy nature by the passing caravans, were notorious among the nanza, gremlins and other smaller creatures of the world, yet the government of the First did nothing to capture them. These elemental dogs were the centuries old, domesticated versions of the wild elemental hounds and spirit wolves roaming the far outskirts. Each of them appeared like a foggy ghost of fire, wind, ice or greenery and would unleash destruction if provoked.
Ssyba opened the heavy door and stood a moment in the vast entrance chamber. She let the heavy smell of smoke, sweet infusion and incense fill through her nostrils. Four paper lanterns dangled above, emitting a soft yellow witness-light that was easy on the eyes.
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"Who is there?" called out a drumming wife's voice.
Ssyba hissed in indignation and dropped on a pillow right near the low table in the center, where sweet desert delights were waiting to be devoured on a silver platter. They were of various flavors, from rose water to lemon and mint, rolled through powdered sugar or coconut flakes or crushed peanuts.
"Come out!" yelled the woman once again as she hurried to reveal herself.
"It's just me," said Ssyba.
"Oh God-river, you're back?"
As the voice got louder, a dark frame gowned in a comfortable night dress appeared from another room to the right, separated by hanging silken fabric.
"What has happened to you?"
"Nothing much," said Ssyba and she stuffed her mouth with sweets.
The woman wobbled sleepily towards the cat and poked her shoulder with a bamboo stick, prompting her to look up. She was very tall, even for a human, desert-handsome in her mid-age, always dressed in such a rich approach that Ssyba had never seen her don the same robe twice. The woman's dark eyes widened at the sight of black-dry blood and they only got wider as she inspected Ssyba, stepping back as if to regard her from a more general perspective. The brow wound above was already beginning to bulge nastily.
"This isn't nothing," the woman said shaking her head with the air of a disappointed mother. She was so utterly sure that the Cultelari, of whom the men of order were so afraid, caught Ssyba and killed her. Yet there she was, alive and well. Was Tisila happy about it? About as happy as someone would be if a fox attacked his flock of chicken but failed to snatch one.
"I should get you at least to clean and dress that wound, as well as your fur."
"I'm fine, lady Tisila. Please do not bother yourself."
"Come! I won't keep such filth in my house."
Ssyba hissed as Tisila nudged her on her feet with the bamboo stick.
This was an act, however. More often than not, Ssyba was respectful and obedient to her master. Things have since changed , and she found herself filled with a deep arrogance. How would she be subservient to humans ever again?
Reluctantly she followed to the other room where. She had to tread carefully from now on so as not to raise suspicions.
Tisila the brewess was dealing in tea and sometimes vraja potions. She brought ingredients for cheap through mister Izzmahil, a renegade "soft" badau, directly from the badawin caravans, and since few other traders and craftsmen would do so out of sheer intimidation, this setup worked wonderfully for her. Tisila mostly sold the ingredients directly or as base concoctions to the reputable Yasha'Lafiq apothecaries and laboratories, but she also had some basic education in chemistry and metaphysics so she had studied the vraja potions enough to know how to select those ingredients from the myriad of junk dry leaves. This meticulous assessing of commodities has awarded her a reasonably good reputation in this part of the city, and Tisila could have easily afforded slaves and workers around the house and at the modest tea-club, but she insisted of only keeping small company. Tisila made sure everything was maintained clean and organized in the house, the club and the tea kitchen mostly by herself. She wasn't afraid of work, but it took a toll on her fatigue, so she trusted and let Izzmahil to handle the stocks and provisions by himself. Singau, her estranged son, rarely visited but the woman always kept a room tidy and ready for him.
And there was Ssyba.
There has always been an odd understanding that Ssyba was at first supposed to be a pet for Singau when the boy was still growing. Sort of like a jester, a smarter animal to keep for company and, if need be, offer protection. Many upper middle class families employed nanza-cats for their children. It was nothing special or interesting. These nanza were often little more than family pets, however some nanza grew to become hidden family or clan elders themselves. Back to Tisila's household, eventually Singau went his own way and Ssyba kinda just stuck around the house. Tisila never bothered to kick her out. In fact, she sometimes discreetly incorporated her talents as nanza into the business, which mostly implied spying on small private conversations and checking on the prices or rumors. Ssyba never argued against. She enjoyed the night excursions, if she was being honest about it. The other night was no exception. When she saw the gremlin run with the stolen ingredients, Ssyba immediately chased after him way before the men of order even set foot at the scene.
Seeing as Ssyba was quite moody, Tisila crossed her arms and asked:
"Aren't you going to tell me what really happened?"
Tisila was the spitting image of motherly concern, but this concern wasn't all for Ssyba's sake. Tisila was concerned for the stolen materials as much as she was concerned for her own personal safety and the reputation of her tea club. If Ssyba was alive, then the Cultelari either failed to kill her or they simply let her live in exchange for somebody else. The wound on the cat's head was a testament of it. The Cultelari were a ruthless criminal organization and they knew that before beating the dog, to take a look at it's master. Behead the leader. Of course, the Cultelari would beat both the dog and the master. Such was the cruelty that premeditated their actions, and that was mostly because gremlins weren't even naturally occurring beasts. Where normal animals had minds and bodies of their own, gremlins were artificial.
"You're not cutting purses for money, are you?" asked Tisila seeing that Ssyba wasn't about to reply.
Ssyba rolled her eyes to look directly into the woman's, without moving her head. As small as Ssyba was, her eyes were much bigger and so abstract, that they gave off an eerie vibe that made even the stern matron fidgety. Something about that question triggered an unconscious and prideful tremble in the very core of the nanza-cat, and awakened predator-animal instincts that were thought domesticated.
And because Tisila was very successful in her work with tea-club customers, she seemed to have developed a deeper understanding of what to make out of life, with all its failures, pains and pleasures, and so he could read a situation quite well.
"I'm sorry Ssyba, I did not mean to imply…" she began, only to halt and reconsider her position. A human to apologize to a nanza-cat? Preposterous!
Tisila was getting too pushy and nagging for Ssyba's liking.
"Lady Tisila, the gremlins are no longer your concern, I should think," urgently said Ssyba with a smug and cute face, to cool down the atmosphere a little, sensing that Tisila was getting tense due to lack of cooperation from Ssyba's part.
"Why is that?"
But Ssyba pointed at her skull as a response, saying:
"Please look at this wound. It was a healthy smack, they thought I was killed. It's only through a wonder that I even escaped alive, let alone drag myself back home. Not only that, I actually had a gremlin throw a vial of a noxious concoction in my face. I've even been hallucinating since. Took a nap on top of a house yesterday and I'm fine now. But in all honesty, who would actually be fine after such an ordeal?"
Ssyba spoke with some sense and Tisila relaxed a little more. And now, Ssyba knew, it was time to pull again, for too much sense would be unnatural for a beast.
"But my lady Tisila, I have to admit that I have failed you."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't I know how important potions are to masters? That's why I chased after that gremlin with reckless abandon. But…"
Ssyba of course referred to all humans as masters, not just Tisila. It simply was one of the many unspoken societal rules of this world.
"Don't tell me..." said Tisila with some shock, already envisioning what Ssyba was about to say.
"Yes my lady, I failed to recuperate the stolen goods."
Tisila paled and the knuckles of her fist whitened on the bamboo stick, she was this angry. Losing any vraja potions or the brewing components was grave enough, but losing a healing vraja potion specifically was akin to sending someone to their death. Humans have become dependent on the potions and their essential powers. Although the whole society revolved more or less around the magic of potions, healing potions were almost twice as precious as any other potion of similar potency. Someone's life might count on it. Ssyba knew this all too well, but was indifferent to it. She was just a nanza-cat, but could clearly see the pressure accumulating under Tisila's surface, ready to burst. A healing vraja potion was as valuable as someone's life, and any such potion would have been pre-ordered half a season in advance. The value of vraja potions has been deeply rooted in every facet of the civilized world, and such a loss was immeasurable for Tisila's business and prestige.
Ssyba pondered on the many stresses accumulating upon Tisila these couple of days.
"I should let her stew just a little longer," coldly mused Ssyba in her thoughts, but her face remained passive. Tisila was not a bad master by any means, but Ssyba had to play around the fact that she might have had a soul. Such an impossibility required certain planning to be done.
Although she was human and Ssyba was a mere nanza-cat, Tisila had raised Ssyba almost as her own child, especially after Singau's departure. Not out of any real love or care, but it was more like an investment. Nanza-cats were simply useful. Intelligent like a human but nimble like a cat. But now Tisila felt a dark and hysterical fury towards this animal. What a useless thing, couldn't even chase a gremlin down and retrieve the precious stolen goods!
Tisila began to pace around the room, then she flailed at the silk covering the entrance to the potions laboratory, with Ssyba following closely behind. At the far end of the laboratory was a storage room and a cool room where certain materials must be held.
"What has been stolen?" demanded Tisila.
"A potion, lady Tisila," meekly replied Ssyba.
"River swallow it!" yelled Tisila, her eyes bulging out and her face getting red and distorted.
If brewing materials were stolen, so be it, Izzmahil could rather easily procure them from his caravan contacts. What's so shocking and urgent was that the goods stolen was a vraja potion, a healing potion no less, which put Tisila in an extremely inconvenient spot and would even offend her powerful and influential client.
"Lady Tisila, I did manage to recover a little something," finally said Ssyba, revealing the bundle of golden meaty leaves covered with a thin layer of silk.
These were the saint's tongue and were a primary ingredient in a basic healing vraja potion. Ssyba schemed about and stole this bundle initially in order to obtain a vraja potion and test it on herself, but she figured she'd have to brew the potion first. However, having zero knowledge on the metaphysics of potion making, Ssyba thought she could instead get Tisila to brew it for herself, as a replacement for the stolen goods, only for Ssyba to snatch it later and drink it herself. Or even learn how to brew it by observing.
Revealing the leaves also had a dual purpose, which was to lower Tisila's defenses and further gain her trust. Tisila knew that the leaves were valuable even in their raw forms, the demand of healing vraja potions being so high. Ssyba could have simply sold them in the underground and keep the money and secret for herself. Thus, revealing these leaves now made Tisila reconsider her stance on her nanza pet.
"Such an obedient creature. I did well not hitting her..." thought Tisila.
Seeing this change in Tisila's behavior, Ssyba laughed darkly within, knowing that she did well. She would obtain the healing potion and use it on herself later. If she had a soul and the potion worked, Ssyba's head wound would be instantly healed. If she remained an animal still, she would immediately die.
Ssyba was not afraid of death. Only through extreme determination could one obtain the power to change destiny and overcome all obstacles.
Ssyba thought about it all for a moment. It was the perfect plan!
"Did you get these leaves by yourself?" asked Tisila with such incredulity, that she didn't even bother to know about how and when did Ssyba achieve such a thing.
"I figured that when I lost to that gremlin, I really couldn't return to master in such a shameful disposition, now could I? I knew I must make up for my failure."
It was true, nanza-cats were prideful animals, almost as prideful as humans, but their sense of pride was rather animal. Tisila was overjoyed to hear of Ssyba's industriousness. It wasn't much about the actual numbers of business or the money, but more about prestige and reputation, as well as the fear of offending an influential client.
Teas have been Tisila's primary source of trade and expertise, because she wasn't a true vraja brewess and only had basic training and knowledge. Actually, only a few other occultists and arcane workers would deal in tea concoctions, primarily because teas were a happy alternative to real vraja potions. Teas were nowhere near as powerful or reality-altering, but had the benefit that they could improve even animals or ordinary objects, so the vast majority of individuals who brought tea were gremlins, nanza-cats, deep earth dwarves, gnomes and other ordinary beasts. Naturally, true vraja brewers and mages wouldn't want to deal with such an assortment of low animals, but Tisila did not mind at all. Other than teas, spices were popular too. Cinnamon was good and expensive, peppercorn was always in demand, they always brought profit and Tisila occasionally made deals.
Because of this whole thing, on the rare occasion that she successfully brewed a vraja potion, Tisila would naturally take great care of it and made plans in advance to satisfy her clients. There was great pride to complete a deal with vraja potions, and great fortune came to those who did.
"And now that the second prince… nay, the First prince himself made an order of a good grade healing potion, how could I waste this opportunity because of a theft? I would lose everything, not just my reputation, and that simply I can't accept." Tisila pondered inside and the more she thought of it, the faster her heart started to beat. She edged so close to failure in satisfying the new First prince's order, that the mere thought of how badly it could have turned out made her body sweat. Her white cloud mana quality innately resulted in somewhat better than average quality potions, and she already had a certain experience in brewing potions, so the chances of it being of a top grade was higher than most. But failure in satisfying such an order could result in losing face. If a brewess with white cloud mana can't brew better graded potions, what does that say about her expertise?
"Fortunately for me, Ssyba managed to salvage this situation, thank the River-god!"
After two nights of constant worry and stress, Tisila could finally breathe in relief. Ssyba naturally noticed this change in demeanor as well.
"We still have much work to do," Tisila took the initiative before Ssyba said anything.
"The most pressing issue has been resolved, thanks to you Ssyba," further praised Tisila gently petting Ssyba's head and ear. Ssyba couldn't give anymore of a crap about Tisila's empty praises, but outwardly she purred.
"I only did what I could to help lady Tisila," said Ssyba.
"You can still further help me! Because I couldn't otherwise get the saint's tongue in time, I would have seriously offended my most important client. Now that I have the ingredients, I can begin brewing so that the vraja potion will be ready in due time."
"But lady, I don't know the first thing about making potions," said Ssyba, opening her eyes wide in shock.
"Worry not Ssyba, just follow my instructions and do exactly what I say and together, we can finish the potion in half the time or even less," assured Tisila petting Ssyba once more.
Ssyba purred but it was all a disgusting act. What she wanted now was to get her hands on the potion and also learn how to brew it herself. Tonight's scheme already yielded great results for Ssyba and she was glad.
"Let's go then," said Tisila, to which Ssyba agreed.
Tisila left briefly through the doorway directly into the laboratory, then beckoned Ssyba to follow. In the laboratory, she lifted the top of a stout and heavy receptacle and waved at it before sniffing. It smelled not too bad, mossy and somewhat acidic.
"What's that?" asked Ssyba.
"Water that I infused with my own mana."
Ssyba nodded as if in understanding, but in truth Ssyba had no idea of any of these concepts, only vague hints. Tisila knew it was pointless to further explain to an animal, but she was in high spirits and chose to humor Ssyba.
"Only mana infused water can be used to brew vraja potions, and only by using mana could the powers within be activated. The higher the quality of the mana, the more potent the vraja potions and its effects."
Ssyba understood at once. Since mana was a natural product of the soul, being the accumulation of divine energy at birth, creating, drinking and using vraja potions was strictly the realm of beings with souls, anchored to the outer heavens. It was a pure science, understood by many academicians.
To Ssyba, this concept dawned into her mind and was comparable to that of sight. Improved sight and the use of eye glasses would be an alien concept to eyeless, sightless creatures, but at the same time, it boosted the natural ability of seeing to everyone else, and the simple mechanics of eyeglasses were commonly understood. Such was the concept of vraja potions, where they would directly act upon the soul the same way eye glasses would act upon sight. The change was purely qualitative, not necessarily a change in function.
On the world of Jord, earth and everything on it was a reflection of heaven. Vraja potions were directly linked to the divine realms above and their essence was discovered and made usable by the scholars and alchemists of the past. Everything on earth had heavenly essence in it, from the lowest grain of sand to the very blood of royalty. In the myriad aeons since the dawn of humanity, humans had gradually discovered the secrets of soul and mana. By creating the vraja potions, humanity refined the heavenly essences and made them useful.
"What is mana quality?" asked Ssyba in confusion, but displaying a clear boldness. She knew that souled humans used mana for their powers, but she had no idea that there was a difference in mana quality.
Tisila gave her a nonchalant look, then turned her attention back at black kettle. Why would she bother sharing such knowledge with a hylic animal, who had no link to the heavens? Tisila was a religious woman, Ssyba knew.
"Mana is the accumulation of potential someone has at birth," began Tisila in simple terms. "Imagine a man who is born bigger and stronger than another man, or imagine a woman who is simply born beautiful, while another woman could be unsightly. Do we have a say about it?"
Ssyba shook her head in disagreement.
"Likewise with mana. Mana can be thin and light, of poorer quality. The darker it is, the more concentrated and potent. Light mana, what we commonly refer to as clear spring mana and white cloud mana, is the most commonly found quality among humans. Three fourths of the entire human population on Jord should possess light mana. Even the most damned by the heavens soul has at least some small quantity of clear spring mana."
"I understand, very interesting," said Ssyba with such concentration, that Tisila was slightly taken aback. "What quality of mana do you have, lady Tisila?" asked Ssyba.
It was an innocent question of a confidential topic. Ssyba couldn't know the strict methods of human society, so she answered after a moment of consideration.
"I, for example, possess white cloud mana," said Tisila with some pride finally creeping into her tone. "White cloud mana is above average of course. It goes above the most common clear spring mana in terms of quality, and is at the peak in terms of light mana category."
"So more than half of all masters have light mana?" probed Ssyba with the impudence of uneducated children.
"More than half by far," said Tisila reluctantly. "Out of one hundred people, more than half simply possess clear spring mana quality. About two thirds of the remaining half would likely have white cloud mana, and these people are above the average in quality of mana. And out of the remaining fifteen or so people, fourteen would most likely have gleaming silver mana quality."
"And the rest? There's a small number out of one hundred, who were not categorized," astutely observed Ssyba.
Such attention to detail disturbed Tisila's good mood, and she began to lose her patience in front of Ssyba's audacity.
"The one out of one hundred would be those with darker shades of mana, those who possess faded ash mana quality, who stand at the top of the society. Our leaders, princes, kings of foreign lands and ancient heroes of antiquity. None of your concern."
At this, Ssyba's eyes glinted with a cold light which made even Tisila, an established brewess of vraja potions, shudder with icicles running down her spine. Disrespect turned into offense.
"What goes beyond faded ash mana?" dared Ssyba to ask with a low, undulating voice.
It resonated with such forward energy, that for a second Tisila forgot that she talked to an animal. Under day to day circumstances, such an intimate and insolent question would have awarded Ssyba a beating with the bamboo cane. But today, her nanza growl seemed to have turned into a distant thunder of a planetary collision storm, and Tisila simply could not stop herself from obeying and answering the question.
"Beyond is the darkest, pitch black mana. The stuff of myth and legends. The god figures with the power to change destinies with a careless wave of their hand."
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The Demon's Gate
A cultivator is someone who can channel the natural energy through their body, strengthening their own body or performing almost magical feats. At birth, everyone manifests an inborn spell, a power belonging solely to them. Yao Jun was born in a branch of the Yao clan, his inborn spell is considered a useless spell, a spell with no effect. Despite his useless spell, Yao Jun is steadfast and determined to cultivate, spending each day training his body to the limit. All he wanted was to be allowed to live his life as he wanted, but fate makes a fool out of everyone, and his life would end up becoming so much more than he ever expected, taking him to the dark side of the world and beyond. When the Demon's Gate opens, what will it bring to the world?
8 121The Curio Shoppe
Kellan Klein is an ordinary college student with an average, if traumatic and painful past. Everyone grows up grappling with depression and anxiety that seem to be genetic in a house with parents that, while loving, fight all the time and have weird ideas about what kids should and shouldn't do, right? Everyone deals with bullying, racism, judgement on their romantic inclinations and their family's economic status and just general shittiness, right? All of Kellan's friends sure did, and for all of them, entertaiment media were a welcome escape from their painful, dreary lives. After all, who wouldn't want to sail the seas with Monkey D. Luffy and the Strawhats, or help Meng Hao con increasingly powerful and influential people, or join Cecil Harvey and his friends on their weird journey to save the world, or make friends with Peter Parker while pretending to not know he was everyone's favorite wall-crawling superhero? Kellan certainly wanted to, and while he pursued college to seek out a career he saw himself enjoying, something felt inexplicably empty about his life. So when a decidely sinister force kidnaps him and the prettiest man he's ever seen saves his life and offers him his wildest dreams, Kellan becomes the shopkeeper of a mysterious, dimension hopping shop, complete with a system that helps him acquire items. abilities, materials, and other cool shit to stock it with, as well as some other neat perks. Will Kellan become a boring overpowered MC, like the kind from web fiction that he reads to sate his boredom? Will he keep his generally kind, sweet nature despite the shit he's gone through and will go through, or will he inexplicably become a scary, violent, irrational arrogant douchebag? Will he use his newfound abilities to explore the multiverse and improve the lives of himself and others, or will he become his own antithesis, a purely mercantile jerk obsessed with money and profit, with no concern for anything that doesn't help or hurt his business? Find out in The Curio Shoppe! Author's note: Please suggest possible setting he could visit in the comments. I'll gather ones i'm familiar with, and at the end of every arc, a poll will be held to decide the next location he visits. There will be polls for other purposes, and I might not always go with the poll winner if I feel one of the other options is more fun to read/write about. I will not use the settings of other RRL writers without their permission.Do not ask for that, unless the author in question gives permission. Most settings he visits will be slightly AU in some way or another, but please remind me if I drift too far from canon unintentionally or characterize a character wrongly. This work will eventually fit all tags I selected once he visits universes suited to those tags, so don't ask when or where a given tag is coming. I do not own the cover art, it belongs to Nicholas Belanger Thiel, and I will stop using it if he asks me to. Kellan doesn't look like the old man on the cover, though once he acquires a disguise-type ability he may occasionally use that appearance. The tapir, however, will be a thing, as despite looking like a failed attempt at an elephant, tapirs are cool and this dragon finds them to be kinda cute. The art, along with more of Nicholas's pieces, can be found at https://www.artstation.com/artwork/51bXz
8 196What Lurks Within
Lanna knows to avoid the cities. Armed to the teeth with robots, weapons, and advanced machinery, they promised death to someone like her. But the backwater hamlets and towns that still ran on wind and water mills and horse-drawn wagons still pose their own risks when you're hiding a terrible truth. Shackled by a past she can't escape and a history built on blood and lies, a young woman with a dark secret lurking within works herself to the bone to barter passage across the sea to a home she's all but forgotten. But time is running out to find that safe haven before her truth is discovered and she's slaughtered for it.
8 142Moonlit Beginning
Our protagonist died in his previous life. With fragmented memories he reincarnated as Lex Permarre the prince of demon kingdom in the world of sword and magic Alteria where strong decides the future of weak, where ferocious beast run rampart on the land, where the tension between the races runs high. Join his adventure to how he assimilates into his new world with an unknown level system and where the civilization is below his previous life. Average Chapter length: around 1200 words This is my first novel ever, and English isn’t my native language, so go easy on me. Any feedback is more than welcome, of course. So comment on anything you want to.
8 68The Sagas of Mortaholme
There is only one god and his name is Elduin, Dwarves are stories, magic isn’t real and the northern kingdoms are made up of raiders and the unfaithful. For two thousand years this has been the truth for the people of Alturine, the holy southern empire. For two thousand years, tradition has been leeched away to form a vicious cycle where the rich stay rich and the poor beget more poverty. Only now, when the southern realms of men are at their lowest does darkness leak back to stake its claim. Marius was raised in the northernmost reaches of Alturine under the trees of the Black Forest where remnants of the old kingdoms still linger. He never believed the stories of short mountain men, nor the old fables about mages and dragons. Yet the darkness cares little for belief and faith. He watched as wargs tore his mother and sister asunder, as the undead carried his father into their ranks and as his town was put to the torch and drowned in blood. Rage fuelled and vengeful Marius struck out against the architect of his misery only to be outmatched and left for dead.
8 184The Hushed Weald
A broken vessel, forced to keep moving forward. Will his curse ever end?
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