MEMORY FRAGMENT

Nerosal, 13 Years ago

“You’re not thinking again,” Lieutenant Zyria said. “The markers are a tool. Make use of them.”

Arthurows dashed forward. Not being able to defend put him at a serious disadvantage. Thinking back, maybe it would have been better if he had taken the knuckler. A shield was perfect for defense, but also good for attack. In contrast, a sword couldn’t block for crap. The awakening realms were full of red markers, showing possible attacks… and they were completely worthless. Sure, Arthurows could defeat a spoon or fork guardian, but when it came to fighting more capable enemies, especially people, he was like a paper boat in the rain.

According to the lieutenant—who was something like his temporary mentor—the key was to learn the basics of combat and execute them efficiently in battle. Reality strongly disagreed with him. Arthurows had grasped the theoretical basics in a matter of days. He’d spend even more in the awakened realms practicing the moves and attack sequences. Even the lieutenant had admitted that Arthurows was close to perfection. And yet, he still couldn’t land a single blow.

“Damn it!” he threw the sword on the ground. The weapon disappeared, returning to his awakening room.

“You’re not making use of your markers.”

“What’s the point? It’s not like I can do anything against someone who has a guard skill.”

“It’s not a matter of skills.” The man frowned. It was obvious that he didn’t like doing this either. If it wasn’t for the overseer’s order he probably wouldn’t have wasted his time teaching a lost cause. “You think you’ll become like a soldier in days? You’re a late bloomer. You should be thanking the Moons that you awakened at all. I’ve spent centuries getting to where I am. The only thing you need to do right now is learn the basics and repeat them until you can defeat entities five levels higher than you. Then, you start leveling up.”

Great, Arthurows said to himself. So, I’ll spend the next five years improving crappy objects.

That was also an issue. He had instantly caught on that the items he was practicing on were special—they were made of wood or crappy tin, ensuring that he’d face low level guardians only. It didn’t help that he had a one per day restriction. Any other training was done in a training item and only in the lieutenant’s presence.

“How long will it take?” Arthurows asked. “How long will I stay a level one?”

“That depends on you. An innkeeper has agreed to the overseer’s request and will take you in later today. You’ll be her responsibility then.”

Great. Even you can’t wait to get rid of me.

It seemed that being an otherworlder wasn’t as impressive as it was supposed to be. With his superior knowledge Arthurows could become the ruler of this city. He should have been made the ruler. The idiots, even the awakened ones, had medieval minds. They hadn’t even discovered the steam engine. Everyone was relying on being awakened so much that they didn’t even consider there could be ways to make things easier for everyone. The most annoying thing was that they weren’t doing this out of fear they’d lose wealth or power, but just because they were so set in their principles that they couldn’t imagine anything different. Arthurows had attempted a few casual conversations about improvements that could make life easier for the guard. Most outright ignored him. The few that feigned interest saw it as nothing more than an interesting hypothetical and left it at that.

“Once more,” Lieutenant Zyria said. “Don’t try to win, just do it right.”

“Sure.” Arthurows summoned his weapon. “I guess this’ll come in handy when I’m serving tables at an inn.”

“Others can’t do that,” the lieutenant sighed.

“Huh?”

“Summoning your weapon. Most can’t do that until they pass through the first gate. You didn’t even think about it.”

“I saw you do it. It’s no big deal.”

“It is.”

The next series of attacks went as poorly as expected. Arthurows made over three dozen attacks to reach the lieutenant. None of them were remotely successful. At best, Dallion got within six feet before his attack was broken. There never was any follow up. Each time the man broke Arthurows’ attack, he’d pause, occasionally point out a minor mistake, then order a complete repeat.

There was no pleasure in that. After the twentieth attack, Arthurows stopped complaining. Ten times after that, he stopped thinking altogether, doing the attacks on autopilot.

After the last attack, reality shifted.

“Damn it!” Arthurows cursed, covering his eyes with a hand. Reality shifts made him dizzy. “Do you need to do that each time?”

“You’ll get used to it.” There was no compassion in the lieutenant’s voice. “Ordinary awakened puke their guts out the first few times. Keep that in mind.”

“If that’s a prep talk, it’s pretty crap.”

Shaking his head, the lieutenant left, leaving Arthurows in his cell. It wasn’t the most comfortable place, but being an awakened, it didn’t matter. He was only sleeping here, anyway.

“I end up in another world and I still have to make my start as a waiter,” he went to the bunk and lay down. Life had a way of being full of ironies lately. Just when he thought Arthurows had a chance of greatness, he had ended up here—a nobody with potential. This time, though, he had no intention of following the path others had made for him. Before the innkeeper came to pick him up, he just left the guard fort.

No one said a word—they didn’t seem to care, or at least not to the point to mess with his life. The only concern was that the overseer might disapprove. But when Arthurows stepped past the building threshold, he knew that she let him go. Now, finally, he could take his path upwards.

Finding a job as an awakened was a lot easier than he expected. Taverns and inns were always in need for awakened, even at a low level. While improving items was limited, mending wasn’t. That was another thing the guards had taught him. It was an annoying thankless activity, but it paid off.

After some consideration, Arthorws decided to join a mending shop. The time schedule was a lot more flexible there, and payment was instant. Half of the money earned would go to the shop owner, but the other half was more than enough for his needs. As for lodgings, Arthurows returned to his old home.

The first person he went to see was his old “friend” Jyan. While they hadn’t parted under the best of circumstances, things were different now and it was time for Arthurows to show it.

“Well, look who’s here.” The thug smirked. “If it isn’t the big awakened himself.”

None of his gang dared laugh. Instead, they slowly moved away, letting Arthurows make his way to their leader.

“What do you want?”

“I should break your fingers for everything you’ve done to me,” Arthurows began. “But that won’t be beneficial for either of us.”

He tossed a small pouch of coins.

“You said you wanted a pouch of silver. There you go. Only this time, you’ll have to do a few things for me.”

Jyan picked up the pouch from the ground and opened it. There were probably more silver coins that he had held in a long time. Even so, his expression didn’t budge.

“And how may I help someone like you?” the man asked.

“I want you to get me things. Simple things. And I want a place to work undisturbed. I might be an awakened, but you know how things go. So, what will it be?”

Role reversals were a difficult thing to handle. However, those at the bottom knew what was the alternative. There were no complaints or grumbles, or even a stare. Jyan simply nodded and went back to his business. With that, the seed had been set.

The next few weeks passed in mending during the day, and working on contraptions during the night. Arthurows had quickly learned that in order to progress he’d have to boost his level, which he could only do at the awakening shrine, for a rather large fee. In order to procure the funds, he was going to start something simple: a toy that defied reason. Given that the world had magical races, this was a difficult task. Initially, he thought a steam engine model would be enough, but that was before he had found that furies could achieve the exact same thing with next to no effort. Electricity also wasn’t as impressive as one might hope. The solution was to create the one thing this world lacked: time devices.

Making a clock wasn’t easy. Arthurows knew the basics. He had repaired some as a hobby, though he had never actually created one from scratch. Doing so required a lot of trial and error, not to mention favors from co-workers at the mending shop. Apparently, one of the awakened had forging skills, which allowed him to create strings and gears the way Arthurows wanted them.

Three weeks were needed to start the first device to start running. One more was spent in getting it to actually work properly. Having only the sun to rely on, Arthurows took a while setting the time. There was no telling what exactly time was, but since there was nothing to compare it with, the time that was set was certain to be the correct one.

The “clock” was as large as a small buckler. The money Arthurows had spent on it was a rather large sum as far as he was concerned, although it was likely going to be pittance once he sold the device to the right person. The obvious choice was to try the nobles. However, that came with a certain degree of risk. Arthurows had learned that people viewed otherworlders with suspicion. Thus, it would be better to sell to a merchant who would then resell it to the nobles themselves. The money wasn’t going to be as good, but at least he was certain to receive it. Once he established a presence, he could well start dealing with them himself.

The arena was the perfect place to put the plan into motion. A lot of people passed through there, especially the rich, bored middle classes of Nerosal. If there was someone to show interest in a clock, they would be there. After a quarter of an hour, Arthurows was proven right.

“Interesting device,” a snobbish man dressed in clothes of sapphire thread said. “What is it for?”

“It tells time,” Arthurows replied.

“Tells it to whom?”

“How?”

“The arrows point to numbers. Each number is part of the day and—”

“We have ways of telling time.”

“Of course you do, but nothing like this. This device is unique in this world.”

This made the snob paused. Having something unique was a definite draw. Having it look strange and sophisticated only made it more appealing. Arthurows had spent a large amount of time making the dial just right to attract as much attention as possible.

“Quite so,” the man agreed. “You’re here for a trade, I take it?”

“No, I just want to sell it. I can make more like to anytime. Or, for the right price, I can make sure never to make anything remotely similar.”

“Getting paid for not doing work? I must remember that one—shows good initiative. Tell me, what do they call you?”

“Arthurows. My name’s Arthurows.”

“Well then, I’m the general.”

“General of Nerosal?”

He definitely didn’t look old or seasoned. The closest thing Arthurows could compare him to was a rich playboy.

“It’s a hereditary title,” the general explained. “My grandfather had it and now it goes to me. What’s relevant for you, Art, is that he also passed down a large fortune which I’ve increased through a series of good decisions.” He looked at the clock. “I’ll take it, the unique version, and we’ll see how things develop from there.”