I woke the following day with the resolve to set the best impression on the recruits I could. I was still careful as I walked to the guard buildings. I kept my hood up and avoided looking directly into anyone's eyes as I navigated the heavy foot traffic and threaded my way to my new job.

There were about 30 recruits lined up when I stepped into the arena. They were all about my age and looked very physically fit, exactly what I was hoping for in a student.

I started by introducing myself with a short speech. "Hello! My name is Brian! I am your new physical combat instructor.” The recruits were silent, so I continued: “You may ask yourself how someone near your age could be experienced enough to teach. Let me tell you; I defeated the captain of the guard Kenneth in single combat.”

I saw several supprised looks, and the board expression some of the trainees had begun to ease. “I may not look much older than any of you, but I'm telling you that you can all be powerful martial artists capable of protecting the crown from potential assassins. If you follow my instructions and learn well, you will, as an ancient master once said, ‘not know what it’s like to hit a man twice.’”

The skepticism completely left the recruit's eyes when I mentioned I had defeated Kenneth. I started the training by teaching a lesson on the theory of offensive martial arts. I taught them the critical spots on the body that one must target to achieve immediate death or incapacitation and began outlining the necessary footwork. I tried to convey that Bajiquan is not just a technique but a lifestyle. Carrying the power of life and death with every step you take and being prepared to step into the light to defend the country requires an inner peace that not everyone can achieve.

My lessons seemed to be received well, and the first day at work passed quickly. I found myself with plenty of time to spend before it was time to retire, so I set about exploring the city.

I put up my hood and began walking. The city was huge, and getting anywhere took between twenty minutes and an hour. I observed my surroundings as I walked, careful not to make eye contact with people passing by.

As I walked down the road, I passed various shops, taverns, inns, and all assortments of buildings typical to a city environment. I had been walking for about ten minutes when I came across a fascinating-looking shop with a sign that read “Spellbooks.”

The door creaked on squeaky hinges as I stepped into the shop. The walls had been covered in arcane runes, and there were rows and rows of books that stretched to a back counter. I stepped up to the counter and rang the bell, which was significantly louder than the squeaky door had been.

An old man walked up to the counter. His white, gray beard flowed down and almost touched the floor, and my eyes were drawn to his as they sparkled with the depth of a faraway galaxy. “Hello, my brother!” spoke the man. I froze, alerted by the suspicious terminology, “Hi. I just had some questions about the products you’re selling, but if I may-why, did you call me brother? The old man’s eyes sparkled as he regarded me. His lip cracked in a smile, and he replied, “We are brothers spiritually. You just don’t know it yet” I frowned and opened my mouth to ask additional questions, but the door squeaked again, and I turned to look as another customer came in. When I turned around, there was a girl at the counter, and the old man was nowhere to be seen. I frowned and asked, “Hey there, miss. Did you see the old man in here a moment ago?” The girl replied, “No, it’s just me here today. What type of spells are you looking for?”

I frowned again as my eyes shifted back and forth before settling again on the girl. “We’ll miss; I would like to buy level one spell books on ruin crafting, healing, and if you have any combat spells like fireball.”

The girl nodded at me and began picking books off the shelves. She piled them on the counter. We have books on “Healing Touch,” “Firebolt,” and “Inscribe runes.” That will be 300 manna coins”. I paid the girl and looked around as I left. The other customer had gotten a book titled Level 2 Alchemy and walked up to the counter.

I stepped out of the shop and toggled the com to the Armageddon. “Hi. What have you been doing? Wait, I don’t care. Something super abnormal just happened, and I need a full analysis of my nanite implants and a review of the electromagnetic spectrum of the Spellbooks shop for the last ten minutes. When I went in, an old man called me brother. I asked why, and he said we were spiritual brothers, but I didn’t know it yet.”

“The Armageddon replied, “Your data is normal; the nanites are functionally normally. There is no record of any electromagnetic anomalies in this area. Furthermore, a quantum scan of the area showed only one child-sized signature before you entered the Spell shop” That couldn’t be right! “Can you assign a stealth drone to keep my interactions surveilled better? The Armageddon replied, “Yes, that’s not a problem, but we do not understand how Manna and Spirit work. My scans may not be accurate as they are based on scientific principles of our old universe.”

I held the books under my arm and walked back to my apartment, pondering what the old man had said. How was I his brother? I didn’t understand. When I got back to the apartment, I wrote down what he had said in a journal to keep track of anything else that seemed unusual.

Unusual Events Log

Location

Statement

Spell Shop

"Hello, brother. We are brothers spiritually. You just don’t know yet."

After dropping off the books at my apartment, I made my way to the bar across from the Guild Hall and ordered a beer. I sat out on the porch and watched people come and go from the Guild. It looked like it was mostly the professional adventurer type of people that were associated with the Guild, which made sense.

After an hour and quite a few beers, my eye caught on a noisy young adventurer group coming out of the Guild Hall. I overheard them talk about meeting some experts at the local bathhouse. “Armageddon,” I said, triggering my com. “What now?” Replied the A.I. “Do you have some mysterious ghosts to report?” “Shut it!” I replied angrily. “That shit the old man said was real. Anyway, can you tell me the directions to the bathhouse?” “The A.I. replied, “Well, several complexes meet that criteria. The largest one is about a 5-minute walk from here,”. I replied. “I think It may be the perfect place to spy on the Guild. I bet many groups of adventurers go there to relax after a hard adventure, and it's probably also used as a meeting place.”

Spells

Spell

Effect

Requirement

Firebolt

Shoot a fist size ball of sticky plasma

Manna 2

I decided to start my spying campaign the next day, as I was tired and wanted to read some spellbooks before bedtime. I headed back to the apartment and opened the Firebolt book.

The book crumpled away as it turned into a manna stream and entered my brain. I now could essentially shoot napalm. The manna cost seemed a bit high, as it would be half my available manna just to shoot one bolt. I defiantly needed to level up my manna. I hurriedly opened the other books, and they updated on my display.

Spells

Spell

Effect

Requirement

Firebolt

Shoot a fist size ball of sticky plasma

Manna 2

Healing Touch

Your touch stimulates cellular regeneration

Manna 4

Inscribe Runes

Your inscriptions take 50% less manna to power

Passive Effect

Healing touch would use more manna than I currently had, so I wouldn’t be able to use that for a while. Inscribe Runes, on the other hand, was a huge win. It would effectively double the number of runes I could draw, giving me four uses of manna imbuement per point of manna spent instead of two, which would increase my melee combat power versus manna shielded enemies. I resolved to try to find a trainer for manna at some point as I drifted off to sleep.