“Hmmph. What have you learned about Familiars?”

“They grow based partly on what they are ordered to do, and partly on the effects of those orders. For example, ordering a familiar to leap into the air a thousand times would improve its ability to jump, and telling it to leap onto a hot coal would also improve its fire affinity or resistance. I’m not sure quite how elements work, we hardly dealt with them in the mines. Familiars don’t seem to have levels the way we do, so they can presumably grow infinitely in all directions, but I assume there’s a limit due to, if nothing else, diminishing returns. Lastly, even a rock will, if granted the Familiar class, be classified as ‘living’, so I presume that a certain portion of my Life… power, or life force, or affinity, or whatever, was transferred to Peblus here. If I weren’t a Life Magus, I suspect that would mean a permanent reduction in my maximum HP or MP.”

“Good. That’s almost all almost accurate. Why did you not contract one of the elementals?”

“A few reasons. Sentimentality, partly, as well as the fact that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to if I forcibly ended the familiar bond with Peblus. I also wasn’t sure that I would succeed, and since Peblus could grow into whatever I needed of it, albeit over a long time, there was no real reason to change familiars beside vanity. I see now that he even gained partial Fire affinity, so there’s even less reason to have changed.”

“Tolerable. You, having a Familiar of two elements, are now more formidable than almost any other magus. On paper, at least. What do you know of the tiers of Magic?”

“Almost nothing.”

“The Magi are the lowest tier of Magic user within the formal schools. The equivalent of a Hedge Shaman or Druidling. Once the highest level of Magus has been reached, a test may be taken at any Magical School, to become a High Magus up to level twenty. Then a Magister up to thirty, Sage, and finally Archmagus. Each test must be administered by a proctor of no less than one rank higher, and a level 50 Archmagus is considered equivalent to… well, if not a God, then at least a true elemental. We have not seen one in a very, very long time. You are, as I said, at least theoretically more powerful than even a level 10 Magus because your Life affinity is rare, has few weaknesses and one extremely powerful strength from an elemental standpoint, and your Familiar covers two elements, one of which is that very weakness to Metal. You have, however, almost no way to use your magic offensively. This is something that will hold true in the future, from what research I have completed. You will have to be creative, and even sneaky, and well-prepared. Other mages who are all of those things as well will make you much better allies than enemies.”

“I see. Do you know when I will get my first offensive spell?”

“Level 3. Speaking of which. Once you have your Life Siphon, as it is called, I will send you into the world. I will dissolve your Geas, and I will request- but not demand- that you return once a year at least to apprise me of your progress. I am a Sage, and may well be a low-level Archmagus next time you see me. I can administer your tests at the facility’s Magic School, and it is largely because of my increasingly serious responsibilities for the other Archmagi that I am releasing you at all.”

“Thank you, Sage.”

“Don’t thank me yet…”

Kraant had thought that destroying his own feet with Ward: Living was difficult. It had, after all, demanded the very highest focus and determination in order to target the spell so precisely. He was wrong. This was difficult. He split his mind into three, as best he could, and simultaneously monitored Peblus and issued mental commands, warded himself from an un-aspected Goblin, and clawed furiously at the less-magically-susceptible Goblin Shaman of Fire. Surprisingly, the physical act of self-defense wasn’t so much the issue, although terror and the occasional spurt of pain weren’t particularly welcome… it was that, at some point during the fight, he had unlocked some kind of berserker rage that he had to mentally suppress while still concentrating fully on three types of combat.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, he died.

Kraant hurt… and then didn’t. He felt the connection to the world, the swimming aspects of Mana all around and within him. He felt… good, but empty. It was a while before he coalesced into a writhing mass of flesh, and only his sheer rational mind kept him from instinctively warding the mass of Life away. It wasn’t him, yet, but it would be. His restraint was rewarded as he felt his body re-form around himself, and a small part of his mind wondered why in the Nine Hells someone would choose to be a magus. Knowing what was happening made it so, so, much worse.

Kraant opened his eyes. He met the gaze of Lung-Tze, beyond the thick iron bars of his cage, and it took him only a minute or two to realize that he was, A) inside the room with the teleportation arch, and B) that he was lying, completely naked, on the stone floor. He stood, and refused to show any sign that his nakedness bothered him. Let the Dragon look. Although, whispered a part of his soul, I doubt that Lung-Tze the Sage wants to be thought of as ‘The Dragon”. Kraant refused to think of him in any other way, since he was ‘without other orders’ at the moment and Lung-Tze seemed to approve of individuality.

“Congratulations.” Lung-Tze whispered.

“…?” Kraant responded, eloquently.

“You have attained level Three, and are no longer mine. Or, rather, I dismiss the Geas I laid upon you.” Lung-Tze was wrapped in a thick robe of shimmering purple, the sort of color that, on a level akin to instinct, told Kraant was related to his magical prowess. It was suitably impressive.

“Thank you, Sage Lung-Tze. Am I allowed to leave the Organ Farm?” Kraant asked, clad in nothing but his scales (and while they were good scales, great even… damn, but that purple made him feel inadequate.)

“You are.” And suddenly a torrent of light, of music, of the smells of far-flung lands and the whisper of rains against his skin, Kraant was transported away.

What a reward for dying, eh?

Kraant felt his flesh re-convene, which was only slightly less awful than his rebirth had been, and was surprised to note that he felt a band of rope across his hips. When he regained control of his body, he leapt from the metallic altar that had birthed him and looked down. His smooth, even, black-and-white scales were all that he saw, except for a simple loincloth wrapped around his waist. Apparently, whichever God governed rebirth felt that nudity wasn’t part of the bargain. Which would have been fine, except that Peblus wasn’t touching his scales directly, and was therefore not with him.

“Move it along, friend. Plenty to see outside the Chamber of Undeath. Kue can have you later.” A rough, yet jolly, voice came from Kraant’s left side, and the matching brute shoved past him. Kraant didn’t mind. From what little he knew of Kue, the Goddess of the Void, she wouldn’t mind his sticking around to appreciate her temple. He knew that he was in a temple of Kue because all the Chambers of Undeath were in temples. Temples either to Kue, or to Idh, the God of Light. He suspected that they wouldn’t share the responsibility and honor for reviving heroes if they were as antagonistic toward each other as everyone thought, but he also suspected that any half-formed ideas on religious politics should be handled by the Paladins, not the Magi. And, here he was! A full Magus of Life. He breathed deeply, and was bumped in the shoulder by another hulking mass of flesh that dashed away from the Chamber of Rebirth as quickly as possible.

Perhaps admiring the beauty of the temple could be better done at, at least, a minor distance from the Chamber…

The archway he strode through, the same as both the armored forms that had shoved him, was made of stone polished so deeply that it almost refused to take color. A candle, lit once, could reflect back and forth between these walls for a thousand years and never seem dimmer. Yet, they also seemed… sterile. He realized that he was using Detect Living out of habit, but for once he was truly alone. No bugs, rats, Overseers… no Peblus Magnificus, nor Lung-Tze… Kraant sighed. The life of a Kobold was surely difficult. Only the strong fared well in the mines, but nobody fared well outside them.

He followed the tunnels on a sort of automatic path, trusting his Detect Living to alert him of any potential onlookers. At this point, he was able to keep it up almost an hour at a time. He came to a room, or a cavern, or a… well, since this was a temple, it was probably a gathering room for the worshippers. He was mildly surprised to see no pews, but the altar was raised and lit by candles, and the windows were large and clean, and there was a huge door ahead of him at the far side. So, definitely the chapel. He was greeted by a whisper near his ear, and as he leapt out of his skin he decided he was sick of this lack of consideration for his affinity. Sense Living was supposed to sense the living, dammit, not sense… nothing! Goddess of Void be damned, he was supposed to be special! He’d suffered for the right to be here, now, getting scared by ghosts!

And it was a ghost that had whispered. When the echo of laughter faded, the voice whispered again in Kraant’s ear.

“Would you like to pay a tithe to the Goddess before you leave?”

“I’m… fairly sure I have no money, but I appreciate the resurrection. Is there any way I can pay with labor, instead of coin?” Kraant didn’t particularly want to dive back into a life of servitude, but he would definitely like to contribute to this temple. It was, despite the affinity mismatch, a comforting place. He suspected that others, the thousands who had flooded the world in the last few hours, would quickly forget about places like this. Places of peace, contemplation, and serenity. He didn’t want to be one of those people, and memories of time wasted are still memories to cherish.

The whisper led him to a small room to the east of the altar, with a door hidden behind a tapestry of a single, withered tree. The door opened easily, soundlessly, and Kraant had the impression of a well-used and well-cared-for office. He was surprised to note that he sensed an inhabitant, a force of life and power that seemed at odds with the wizened, ancient granny behind the huge oaken desk. The whisper left him, he thought, as he crossed the threshold. At the very least, it shut up, and apparently that was all his Detect Living could say for sure.

“Good, uhm. Day?” Kraant bowed awkwardly, realizing that he hadn’t seen the sun in quite some time and that he really had no idea what time it was.

“Evening, Magus. It is evening.” The granny didn’t even look up from her paperwork, but gestured at the bookshelves lining the walls. “Your Familiar is in one of these crannies, go ahead and fish him out.”

“Uhm.” Kraant walked steadily to the left-hand wall and reached directly into the cubby that held his pet rock. “While I am glad to see it back, I actually didn’t come to you for my Familiar.”

“Really?” The granny craned her neck as high as it could go, looking Kraant in the eyes. This was unnerving, since he was quite sure he should have squatted slightly before she affixed him with her gaze, but even at full stance he was only 1.2 meters tall. “Then why? Have you come to swear an oath to the Goddess Kue?”

“Well, no. I was asked to donate a tithe, for my reconstitution, but you can see that I have no money. I want to offer my services to the temple for a day, as payment, and then another day, as an offering to a Goddess who I suspect receives less than she is due.”

“Hah!” The granny was so emboldened by Kraant’s words that she, nearly, stood upright. “Penance and humility! Hah! You want a quest, youngling! Go away!”

“If I show you my Legend, will you read it? It can show you that I don’t care about quests, I care about growth.”

“…Fine.” The granny sat back down. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Legend

Kraant was dissatisfied with his life as a trapper in the Kobold-controlled Hematite Mine 175-B, and left his home and clan behind. He was able to last a few days before his first encounter with the Higher Races, and was captured by a band of elven bandits. He was sold into slavery, brought to the Irongem Mountain Mine 34-C, and used for organ storage. He was nearly killed by Rrrobert, but was saved by the timely intervention of Lung-Tze. He was put under Geas by Lung-Tze, but has been released to the world at large, under the condition that he return at least once a year. He has contracted a Familiar, a simple stone named Peblus Magnificus, and it shares the affinities of Fire and Metal. He wishes to sacrifice time and effort to the Goddess Kue, out of fear of what she might do if slighted.

“…Well. That’s fair as fair can get.” The granny sighed. “When you leave my office, turn right and follow the wall. You’ll wind up in a hallway, with no idea how you got there, and if you follow it you’ll reach my monks. They’ll be in charge of you for the next two days.” She grunted at the end, and offered Kraant what he chose to believe was a smile, not a smirk.

The monks had Kraant do many things over the next two days, none of them related to anything he knew how to do, and he was thrilled to fall asleep each night. At least the monks, being peaceful by nature and attuned with the Void, were able to help him more easily suppress his Raging Flurry. Now it was something he had to actively try to activate, instead of something he had to try not to activate.