The streets of Addens, as the city was called, were as sorry as they appeared from his room’s window. Sparsely populated, the dirt pathways had dried, a cloud of dust swaying about in the air as people passed to and fro. Alden coughed into his shirt, eyes stinging from the dust as he followed Mina wordlessly to the Guild.

Townspeople walked all around them, going about their days. Dressed in a mix of robes and tunics and dresses of various qualities, they gave off a fantasy-like impression, to which Alden found himself smitten. It was exactly the kind of thing he’d thought of every night to lull himself to sleep.

Arriving at the entrance to the Arvolt Guild, Alden was smitten once more and doubly so.

Three stories tall and twice as wide, the Guild building towered over those beside it. Despite its size, the building, with its white walls and dark brown timber frame, had an inviting appearance, and Alden was all too happy to accept.

Inside, the entrance opened to the main room. A large open space, it occupied the majority of the building's volume. One either side were rounding staircases that led to the second floor, where rows of tables sat, their seats occupied by adventurers of all kinds, eating and drinking away. A faint whiff of alcohol made its way down to Alden, almost buttery. He couldn’t remember that last time he had a drink, and the mere smell had set off a powerful craving in him, though he held it back.

Mina led him to the Guild’s counter, settled between the staircases, and introduced him to the receptionist, Eda. Young and kind faced, she had a look of wisdom behind her eyes that Alden couldn’t quite place.

“So, what do you need today Mina? More sylweed?” Eda asked.

“Maybe next time. For today I need help with Alden.” She explained the situation and, like a torch, Eda’s eyes lit up.

From there Eda explained to him all the varieties of medicinal plants and herbs and roots adventurers were hired to collect, offering descriptions and drawings of each in turn. Absentmindedly he listened, the descriptions leaving his mind almost as soon as they entered. He was there to learn their prices, first, and could suffer through the rote memorization at a later time, though Eda seemed quite pleased to talk regardardless.

“That Alden I see?” Turning to the source of the loud voice, Alden saw Berns standing tall behind him, two other adventurers standing with him. A smile a mile wide was plastered on Berns’s face. His companions gave much more modest grins, though they seemed genuine.

“I got your message,” Alden said. Berns nodded.

“Good, good. Look lad, I see you’re busy at the moment, so I’ll be quick about it. My team and I, we’re looking for a combat healer. Nothing permanent, unless you want, I know you’ve got a spot at Doc Elms’s place, but we’re more than willing to show you the ropes if you ever want to give adventuring a shot. And…” Berns leaned in, voice quiet, “I’m willing to pay you up front for it.”

“We heard that,” one of his companions said, a tall man with short swords on either side of his hips.

“Well, think about it. We’re heading out for a request tomorrow, so if you’re wanting to go with us meet us here in the morning,” Berns said.

They left, and Alden spent another hour copying down the prices of various potion ingredients and, more importantly, the cost to make requests at the Guild. Adventurers were responsible for a good number of the more wild plants, which were used when the farm-grown supply was short.

A basic request for five cloves of sylweed cost ten copper, or half a silver coin; expensive by this world’s standards, given that a room at an inn only cost two copper and a loaf of bread cost just one. The cost was split between the Guild and the party responsible, of course, with the Guild taking a 30% fee. The rest would be split between the members of the group, which could range in size from a single adventurer to more than a dozen, in rare cases. Many adventurers, particularly those of lower rank, opted for multiple requests at once in order to make a profit, it seemed, while those of higher ranks could achieve great fortune by slaying rare monsters and harvesting their carcass for materials. Dragon’s horns, Eda said, were particularly sought after by nobles, as it was thought that grinding and consuming the rare material could cure impotence.

Finished, Mina had led Alden about Addens on various chores, plodding through the dirt streets from store to store to purchase the clinic’s necessities: two dozen rolls of cloth to act as gauze; three glass flasks to replace those that had broken or cracked; a small basket of apples that had no more than a dozen and a half, by Alden’s estimation, as well as bread and cheese; and a half dozen stalks of pylander, farm grown and fresh, their leaves producing a sharp smell that cleared Alden’s sinuses and made him recoil.

The final chore took them to the stone-laid road, closer to the town’s entrance. Chasing after Mina, Alden grumbled to himself as his legs began to burn and his fingers ached from carrying all the supplies, Mina having excused herself from such work. Near the entrance sat a slew of makeshift tents on either side of the road, plain carriages settled behind them, their masters sat up front and yelling wildly to all who passed.

Traveling merchants, many from foreign lands, each selling wares and scams in equal measure. Alden averted his eyes from the merchants and the wares, focusing his attention on Mina, who hopped from stall to stall, rarely giving more than a cursory glance.

Eventually she settled on one merchant who was selling books. Dressed in purple robes, the merchant had light brown skin and green, discerning eyes. He regarded Alden for only a moment before turning his attention entirely to Mina, who hovered over the selection of books, her brow wrinkled as she looked them over. Eventually she selected three of them, two of red with golden linings, the third blue lined with purple.

“Four silver,” she said, pointing to the books in her hands. The merchant shook his head.

“Dearest customer, these are fine books, worth at least eight silver at their cheapest.”

Mina chuckled at his words. She gave Alden a look, as if to say she couldn’t believe the merchant’s audacity. “Five, then. We both know they aren’t worth eight.”

“Madam, you must jest. These two here in red are the works of Adem Strous, and this blue one here is by none other than Hila Freymont. Fine works, and in wonderful condition. Eight is in truth too low, but I see you are doing none too well, and I am a generous man. I will part with them for six silver.”

“Deal,” Mina said, hand suddenly outstretched, six silver coins gleaming in her palm. The merchant took the coins, his smile far wider than one who had sold goods below their worth. They left, and when Alden thought they were out of earshot he turned to Mina.

“What are those books?” he asked.

“Books about magic,” she said. Unlike the other items they had purchased, Mina held the books close to her chest, protective, like a child with a favorite stuffed animal.

“What are they for?”

“Learning magic,” she said. Noticing her brevity, Alden kept silent as they made their way back to the clinic.

As the day before had been, the clinic was filled with patients, a line having formed outside of everyone from children with coughs to adventurers with cuts and scrapes to elderly men and woman with various pains. Alden unloaded the day's purchases as instructed, then attended to the patients.

Most of his patients were adventures, with the occasional child or teen with a scrape or cut. Injuries were apparently the easiest to heal, at least external ones, and so most were funneled to Alden while Doctor Elmswood attended those with illnesses and vague pains. Only skilled doctors were able to heal diseases through magic, according to Mina, and the more Alden observed the good doctor in his work the more he suspected the man was more extraordinary than he’d expected.

The very thought set Alden’s imagination aflame with images of himself in robes, attending some magical college and pouring through book after book as he rose to the top. It was possible now, in this world of magic, and even more so with his unique powers. More, though, his mind turned to Berns and his companions. A life of adventuring didn’t sound so bad, either. Traveling from place to place vanquishing monsters here and there and looting piles of treasure. No, it didn’t sound bad at all.

Kneeling next to yet another patient, knees digging into the wooden floor, Alden observed his Status. His Healing Magic still sat at F rank, and his mana, which sat nicely at 90/90 points, would be emptied nearly completely from the use of Diagnosis Magic and Healing Magic. In the stories he’d read the protagonists always learned at incredible rates, and though he’d learned faster than most according to Mina and Elmswood, his progress could only be summed up as disappointing.

But, he reasoned, what was not handed to you must be earned. Thinking it over, Alden ran through the process of Diagnosis Magic and Healing Magic in his mind over and over. Each time Diagnosis Magic was cast a slurry of information would fill his mind. Millions of tiny points that made up the shape of a body, some highlighted as if lying under the sun, others dulled as if in shadow, would imprint itself in his imagination. Human cells, he believed, the basic components of biology. And each time he cast Healing Magic he did as Mina suggested, imagining the wounds closing. Yet, even from the start, he had imagined more. The cells moving, dividing. Yet those thoughts were brief, fleeint, never lingering on the biological process long.

Casting the Diagnosis Magic spell, Alden focused on the individual cells that made up the human body: red blood cells, white blood cells, proteins. He imagined each as best he could, remembering back to biology classes in school. The ball of light struck his patient, releasing a vibrant glow, and the information flowed into his mind, millions of tiny flecks. No, billions, maybe even trillions, countless. He tried to focus on some, to toss the superfluous specks from his mind, but they remained.

Slumping forward, Alden felt a hollow feeling in his chest. His test had failed. He had cast Diagnosis Magic, hoping, expecting, a different outcome, and yet there were no differences between now and his previous attempts.

Alden sighed, shook away his disappointment, and focused on his work. His patient, another young adventurer, stared at him curiously. He had arrived at the clinic with a few scrapes and cuts, a shallow red slice upon his leg being the worst of it. Healing him would be quick and, eager to get on with his work, Alden shut his eyes and focused on casting his magic.

But he could not let go of his suspicion. He did as before, imagining the cells in greater detail, dividing, moving, made up of so many parts. It had not worked with Diagnosis Magic but, he reasoned, Healing Magic might be different.

“Uh, Doc, I think it’s done,” the adventurer said, breaking his concentration.

Opening his eyes, Alden saw that the adventurer's leg was healed. His mana had barely fallen, resting at 50 and slowly ticking up with every moment. In half the time and at half the cost he had healed the adventurer’s wounds.

Skill Up

Through intelligent use of prior knowledge, the Healing Magic skill has advanced to Rank D.

Reward: 50xp, 5 bonus points to the Intelligence stat.

Alden Lyons

Age: 24

Health: 180/180

Mana: 54/90

Level: 2

EXP: 50/200

Money: 1 silver 5 copper

Rank: None

Titles

None

Stats (5 points remain)

Strength: 12

Intelligence: 20

Wisdom: 10

Dexterity: 13

Agility: 10

Endurance: 12

Luck: 15

Charisma: 11

Skills

Diagnosis Magic Rank F

Healing Magic Rank D

Aptitudes

None

Special Abilities

All-Maker

The day carried on breezily from there, with Alden working through his patients in record time.

“Are you sure you’re healing them properly?” Mina had asked and, once he had demonstrated for her, shook her head. “Are you sure you weren’t a doctor before losing your memories?”

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“What’s this I see?” Elmswood said, wiping his hands with a red-stained rag. “Idle hands? What do I pay you for, again?”

“There are no patients, sir,” Mina replied. True enough, with the increase to his skill, Alden had worked through their excess patients and the clinic sat empty.

“I’ve noticed,” Elmswood said, flashing her a sly grin. “You’ve done good work, Alden. If you’ve a mind to continue doctoring, you should go to the Doctors College in Halford. They can teach you better than I can. Unless you’ve decided to accept Berns’s offer, that is.”

“I’m thinking it over, sir,” Alden said. “Truth is I’m not sure what I want just yet.” He never had been, really, even back on Earth.

“Well there’s no need to rush. You’re still young, but if you become an adventurer you might never grow old.” A warning, and with the Doctor’s dark expression Alden couldn’t help but feel a slight chill. “Think on it. For now, we’ve no patients, so do as you please for the rest of the day. And before I forget, here’s your pay for the day. Nothing extra this time, I’m afraid.”

Dismissed, Alden idled about the clinic, taking stock of supplies and going over his notes once more. For her part, Mina took to reading her newly purchased books and, curiosity getting the better of him, Alden couldn’t help but sidle up beside her and look over her shoulder.

She was reading one of the red books, its lettering neat and uniform but different from the letters he was used to, the style oddly sharp, making it difficult to parse the words. The page spoke of the fundamentals of magic, specifically how its application differed from mage to mage. It was based on their understanding of the world itself, the book said, and with deeper understanding of the individual processes the easier it became to cast the spell and the more effective its results. He had seen such results himself with his Healing Magic, the book merely confirming his suspicions.

“Can I help you?” Mina asked. Alden jolted in surprise, took a step back, then, mustering his courage, stepped forward.

“I’d like to borrow one of your books, if you don’t mind,” he said. She gave him a sidelong glance.

“Fine,” she said curtly. She slid the blue book over to him, continuing her reading of the red.

The blue book was titled The Makings of a King, the lettering gold and glimmering. Its pages were worn around the edges, but otherwise were in good condition. He read it slowly, the lettering as hard to decipher as the red book’s had been, and yet each page seemed to propel him to the next.

An autobiography, the book spoke of Hila Freymont’s time as court wizard to King Harold IV. A man who edged between righteous king and tyrannical despot, King Harold was responsible for as many improvements to the kingdom as he was the deaths of its people, waging war after petty war against nations and vassals alike. A lecherous man, he had fathered nearly three dozen children amongst his wives, concubines, and even the daughters of nobles, not to mention countless others through commoner women. The only thing that stopped his sinful ways, in Hila’s opinion, was his death. A revolt, his own knights standing aside as a horde of angry citizens descended upon him.

The author, Hila Freymont, self-described greatest mage of her time, was unable to stop his death, despite her loyalty. Sent away to the neighboring country to seduce their prince, she had learned of the revolt too late and, upon discovering the truth, had banished herself from the kingdom.

Beneficial or no, he didn’t understand how she could have remained loyal. By Hila’s words he was an effective king, but Alden wondered if that was indeed true. If Hila was truly the greatest mage of her time then how much was the country aided by this king, and not by her own works?

“Why did you get this book?” Alden asked. Mina looked up, annoyed by the interruption.

“Which one?” she asked. Alden pointed to the cover of the blue book.

“This one.”

She sighed, marked her place in the red book, then set it aside. “Hila Freymont was one of the greatest court mages in history,” she said. “I’d heard stories about her from nearly every magic user I ever spoke to as a kid. She’s why I started learning magic in the first place.”

“Did you want to be a court mage, too?”

Solemn, her shoulders slumped. “I did. Still do, honestly, but it takes a lot of work and talent. Hila was the youngest court mage in history, and she was three years older than I am now when she received the position from King Harold. So, for now I spend my time studying and practicing and learning from the experts I meet. It’s why I became Doctor Elmswood’s apprentice. He may not seem it, but he’s one of the better doctors in the country. And it may seem selfish, but I’m only here to achieve my aspirations.”

Aspirations. The word rang nicely in Alden’s ear. Did he have any, he wondered? Certainly not on Earth. He was content there. Wasn’t he? No, he wasn’t content there. He was bored, spending his days doing the same work day in and day out, without meaning. He hated it, but more than that he hated his complacency. He wanted to aspire for something, too.

But what? There were so many options now. With his power he could become a knight in shining armor, a warlord, the great healer or mage, an adventurer. Everything seemed possible now. The only constant was something grand, something that would take time and effort and receive respect from the masses.

Thanking Mina for her time and sharing her book, Alden went to his room on the second floor and opened his status. No matter what he chose to be he would need Intelligence and Wisdom. His Intelligence had already risen to 20, his highest Stat, while his Wisdom sat at 10, the lowest alongside his Agility. Should he enhance his physical skills first, he wondered? Or would his mental stats be more potent? A higher Wisdom would mean a higher mana pool, after all. Useful, should he opt to become a mage of some sort.

He inspected the Wisdom stat, hoping its description would help him along.

Wisdom

The quality of having good judgment. With higher Wisdom, the results of choices become more clear.

He stared at the description a moment and, resolute, poured his remaining Stat Points into Wisdom.

Alden Lyons

Age: 24

Health: 180/180

Mana: 115/115

Level: 2

EXP: 50/200

Money: 2 silver 5 copper

Rank: None

Titles

None

Stats

Strength: 12

Intelligence: 20

Wisdom: 15

Dexterity: 13

Agility: 10

Endurance: 12

Luck: 15

Charisma: 11

Skills

Diagnosis Magic Rank F

Healing Magic Rank D

Aptitudes

None

Special Abilities

All-Maker