Ash strode through a field of crimson flowers that stretched into the horizon every which way. The sky above him was a bleak cloudy grey, and though ample daylight abounded all around him, he spied an ominous red-dyed moon affixed amidst the clouds. Its bloody gaze cared not for him, if it noticed him at all. Its attention was fixed unrelentingly onto the distance. 

His own eyes were, however, firmly fixated onto the ground or rather, one person in particular. 

A woman in a mesmerizing multi-layered robe of flowing midnight made into cloth and embroidered with dizzying patterns of shining gold laid asleep amongst the flowers. Her bright red hair laid spread behind her like a corona of flame, except for its edges where the strands faded to a black as dark as her robe. 

Her unnaturally pale face was troubled as her chest rose with each heavy, harried breath and a colourless and broken crown laid discarded by her side, its peaks turning to dust by the very second. 

Ash stared at her for a long moment, gripped by her beauty and an unbidden sense of familiarity. He knew her, somehow. Who was she to him? Someone important. But was she? Yes? No? 

He wasn’t sure. His mind was a tangle of thoughts, but he felt that she couldn't be left alone as she was. Ash strode towards her with quick purposeful steps giving him speed, drawn like a moth to a flame without a care for if he may be burned. 

But it was slow going. He frowned. The sky above rumbled. The moon’s gaze remained fixed on the distance, but the earth itself became his obstacle in its stead. The field of flowers became a writhing wasteland of mud that grasped at his feet and slowed his steps. Ash redoubled his efforts and yet his pace slowed to a snail’s pace still. He was so close! 

So very close! He’d crossed the vastness of the land and now she was but a few meters away. No, a few feet. Centimetres then. A touch away. 

“Wake up.” he said to her, his voice a soft whisper. 

In the far distance, a city burned, and people died as monsters of shadow and treachery betrayed their trust and rose in rebellion. 

He neither saw nor cared for it. He stretched forwards, grasping at her like a life-line from the madness roiling around him. “Wake up.” he said again, louder. 

Peals of thunder echoed around him and in the silence between each deafening boom, he heard chanting, loud and unnatural. 

Ash still cared not. He mustered every ounce of strength left in his body and surged forwards. His fingers grazed against pale skin. Her eyes fluttered at the touch. 

“Wake up!” he yelled. 

So close. She was so close! 

The chanting grew louder and louder. A pressure descended onto his shoulders, pushing him down, dragging him into the earth. His efforts to remain above were rendered pointless. The earth was too strong. its grip like iron on his body. His waist was sucked beneath the ground, and then his chest and his neck. 

He hadn’t any time left. She was too far away. His efforts too weak. 

The darkness swallowed him nearly whole, his arm the only part of him left bare to air. All was lost. The thunder was muffled, nearly gone, but the chanting remained. He gave up hope. Gave up struggling. Nearly gave up himself... and then he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and haul him bodily back into the world above. 

Ash emerged to stand before the woman. His breathing was uneven and his thoughts a malaise, but her gaze made it all right again. Her eyes like twin pools of blood stared deep into him, and she spoke two words into his ears. 

“Wake up.” 

◆◆◆◆◆ 

Ash awoke with a start, his gaze frantic and frightened until he realized where he was and what had happened. 

‘Fucking nightmares.’ he grumbled internally as a rivulet of sweat streamed down his brow and he loosed a deep breath. 

“Had a nice little nap on my bed, did ‘cha?” 

Ash would deny that his immediate scream had been shrill and girlish when asked about it later, but he had been scared by the devilish woman that was Myr. Someone so big should not be that silent. 

The woman for her part seemed entirely amused by the situation, though her icy blue eyes revealed a hint of mischievousness in them. 

“Ah, sorry. I guess I fell asleep here after I stopped carving.” 

“Oh. So, you’ve decided to take me up on my offer, have you?” 

“Offer?” he questioned, before he recalled the look that she’d shot his way as she’d offered him a place on her bed. By her side. 

Ash gulped. “Haha, n-not exactly. I was just so exhausted an-” 

“Give it a rest, kid. I was just messin’ with you. Though the offers always on the table, mhm.” 

He nodded as he rose and thanked her for both the bed and the meal. 

“Cookin’ ain’t my forte but I ain’t no novice either.” He’d noticed. The meat had been delectable, and he made sure she knew it by lavishing ample praise on her skills. To his surprise, Myr almost looked bashful as she told him to shut up and turned away. Did... the great warrior who had slain a blade-sloth with barely any effort have a … shy side to her? 

Ash revelled as he imaged all the opportunities that the revelation presented for him, though he wisely kept that thought to himself. Instead, he revealed all that he had done in his carving. 

“Wait, you’re tellin’ me that you broke down a whole wall in, what, five to six hours after startin’?” 

Was that how much time had passed? He nodded. 

“Damn talent.” she muttered with an aggrieved frown. “It takes most normal folks a week of effort to finish the whole process, but at the rate that you’re goin’, you’ll likely be done in a day or two.” 

“A day or two?!” He’d felt like he’d be done far faster than that, though then again, if it’d taken him hours just to carve out one wall, then around two days seemed reasonable. Of course, he kept his opinion confined to the safety of his mind. Myr sported an annoyed frown as she watched him. 

“Talent.” she muttered again before she sighed. “Well, get crackin’ once you’re ready. Can’t make much use of you until you can cast a spell.” 

Ash nodded without much fuss. The woman’s words were true enough and more than that, he was determined to be done quicker than ever her estimation. And to that effect, Ash immediately fell to the floor and immersed himself in his inner self and wasted no time ramming his mana into the next wall he needed to break through. 

And so, for the rest of the day and the day that followed, Ash found himself having descended into a routine of sorts with him spending most of his time immersed in carving in a mediative fugue, emerging back into the real world only when prodded or poked awake by Myr so that he could enjoy a meal by her side. The woman proved amply generous when it came to food and company both and he found himself lowering the last few reservations he had about her soon enough. 

In due time, Ash had carved away most of the space he’d needed to step into the second half of the process: the forging. It had turned to be a wholly different kind of beast to conquer. It wasn’t as time consuming as carving had been, but the process of condensing his mana into a stable orb as Myr had described it demanded far more focus and effort from him than the former. 

It had felt like something akin to grabbing at water and trying to mould it into a shape with nothing but his hands. Every time he thought he’d stabilized one side, a hole sprang up in another side as his once willing and mouldable mana rebelliously attempted to escape the bounds of shape and form that he imposed on it. Ash had been forced to abort the attempt more than once when the toll it wrought on his mortal mind and body both became too taxing to bear. 

Still, as Myr had predicted, he’d managed to stabilize it near the end of the next day. 

Ash floated in the midst of his inner self staring proudly at the glowing ball of unwavering power and energy through which a dozen and more channels of mana connected to. 

His first nexus was ready, and a shimmer came into being to make it official. 

 ___________ 

You have achieved Tier 1! 

____________ 

He was caught off-guard by the fact that it had managed to intrude on his inner self somehow, but chalked it down to how it was part of whatever system seemed to govern magic itself. 

'Why thank you very much.’ he said with no small amount of mirth as he dismissed the screen and called upon his character sheet. 

___________ 

Ash Flynn 

Tier: 1 | Level: 1 

MGT: 11 | CON: 12 | REGEN: 2 | PERC: 9 | AGI: 10 | MYST: 15 | CHA: 11 

Active Nexii:- 

Might Nexus: 0/3  

____________ 

Not much had changed other than the presence of the nexus that he now obviously sported and the unknown numbers beside it, something he’d need to needle Myr about. 

No, he amended as he recognized the change to his attribute. His MYST had shot up to a whopping fifteen, which he much preferred to the zero it had been previously. What had the woman said about it? 

It represented his mana pool and mana efficiency, or something to that effect? He couldn’t complain about having more of either. 

He returned to the waking world and flashed a bright smile Myr’s way. “I did it.” he stated with obvious glee dripping off his every word. “I’m a goddamn genius.” 

The woman didn’t seem to agree very much, though she was busied enough with her work moving monster products from one of her partitioned rooms to the hall to say so. 

“Oh, by the way, what does the zero out of three next to my active nexii list mean?” 

“Your ability slots. You-” She grunted as she moved a bundle into view. “-only get three slots for spells and abilities and what-not so make ‘em count.” 

“What? So, if I learn more than three, I’ll just forget one?” 

“Nah, you’ll get it when you actually start tryin’ to learn one.” 

“Well, whatever it is, it’ll probably be easily conquered by this genius once again.” 

The woman threw a strip of freshly cured leather at him. It gently slapped his face and he sputtered as he hastily shifted the smelly object off himself. 

“Whazzat for?!” 

“Nothin’. Just felt like it.” she said with a smirk that easily got under his skin. 

Ash pouted and huffed for a moment before a thought brought his good cheer hurtling right back. “Alright, so when can I start learning spells?” 

He nearly salivated at the thought. His path to becoming the next Dumbledore was all but paved and ready for him to tread right before him. Ash could hardly stand to wait. He would be a true hero soon enough. 

“In a bit. I ain’t got no spells to teach you right now.” 

The burrow descended into pin-drop silence. Ash blinked. 

A second passed before his brain managed to reboot itself and he found the energy to speak. “S-say that again? You don’t have any spells for me?” 

“Nope.” answered Myr without so much as batting an eyelash at the distraught boy seated on her floor, her attention busied by the bundle of animal products she was slowly drawing out from one of her partitioned rooms. 

“Why not?” Ash asked, his roiling emotions only thinly restrained as he hoped for a reasonable answer from the woman’s mouth. 

“’Cuz I don’t know any.” 

“What do you mean?! You killed that blade-sloth with those earth pillar things!” 

“Mhm. Not an offensive spell.” she remarked before she paused. Her icy-blue eyes lazily drifted onto him. Myr’s expression scrunched up in thought before she finally decided on something with a sigh. “I ain’t got no might nexus. Not a drop of offensive ability in me at all. All you saw me use was an Earthen Shield spell from my constitution nexus. Let’s me summon pillars of earth to cover allies and stuff.” 

“B-but...” He knew what he’d seen, and there’d been nothing shield-like about those pillars of death. 

“Listen, kid. The locations of our nexii decides the nature of the spells we gotta use, but that don’t mean that we gotta be dumb about the way we use ‘em. A little creativity goes a long way. Take the Flamethrower spell. Pretty standard offensive spell, right?” 

Was it? Ash hadn’t a clue, but he nodded nonetheless, intrigued by where Myr was going with the conversation. “But if it's used to make a wall of flames to stop some beasties from over-runnin' your allies, then is it suddenly a defensive spell? No. Spells are flexible. No point in thinking of a nature as somethin’ set in stone, not when people are involved. Believe me. I’ve seen some really creative spell castin’ in my time.” 

“I... didn’t really consider that.” he admitted whilst deep in thought. 

“’Cuz you’re dumb.” 

Ash scowled and flipped her the finger behind the back. The woman somehow still sensed it and even if she likely didn’t understand the literal meaning of the gesture, she understood the intent well enough. Ash supposed he only had himself to blame for the sudden upwelling of earth beneath his feet that threw off his balance and sent him tumbling to the ground. 

Ash groaned. Myr’s laughter hurt him more than the fall had. 

“So... you don’t have any might-natured spells for me, huh?” he asked as he waved some dirt off his shoulders with an annoyed frown. 

“That’s what I said, but don’t worry kid. I got a solution for that. An' you know what, I’m takin’ you along this time.” 

“To where?” he asked uncertainly. 

Myr grinned and Ash saw a premonition of certain danger in those wild eyes. “We’re gonna go meet with the Everwatch Tribe.” 

“Who?” 

She smirked. “Goblins.” 

◆◆◆◆◆ 

Ash stalked closely behind Myr who led the way, a hefty sack filled with animal products bound to her back. 

The young man was not having a fun time so far. He found the trek through the forest to be a painful and worrisome endeavour and as excited and impatient as he was to start learning spells, he didn’t think that an encounter with goblins barely a few days after his last hair-raising experience was likely to do his nerves any good. 

But then again, Myr was by his side and didn’t she say that she had some deal with the local tribe, the Everwatch, as he’d learnt that they were called? He could only trust in her words and tag along at a nervous trot. Though he thought that the journey would have been far more bearable if Myr managed to not laugh every time a distant twig snapping or bush shaking made him flinch. 

He suspected that she was somehow making most of those noises herself, though he kept that theory to himself. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately as the case may have been, their trek took under an hour and they eventually emerged from the jungle proper into a large clearing, beyond which loomed a wall of wood that jutted ten-feet into the air. Ash idly noted how the wood itself bore no seams or signs of construction. It almost looked like it’d been grown into the shape it was, which he supposed was very possible in a world of magic and mayhem. 

They saw no signs of goblins just yet, though Ash felt a strange prickling on his skin, as if he were being stared at from somewhere. 

They came to a stop several meters from the edges of the wall. Ash glanced at Myr whose face spoke of a complete lack of worry or care. Could she really be that confident that they weren’t in any danger, he wondered. Another look at her bearing told him no. There was a tenseness there, even if it wasn’t obvious at first. A woman as blunt as Myr couldn’t hide all the signs from him. 

“What are we waiting for?” he asked after a few seconds. 

“For a gate to open.” 

“A gate?” he spied no structures that would indicate a gate of any kind anywhere on the wall, though again, magic. 

And he was right. 

The wall started to rumble and creak a minute into their wait as the wood tore apart like roots twisting in opposite directions until a path inside was laid bare for them. Myr shifted her sack to a more comfortable position and gestured at him to keep up, which he did with ample enthusiasm. He had no desire to separate from her until they were well and safely returned to the burrow. 

“A simple rule to keep in mind unless you wanna be gutted, kid. Don’t talk to any goblins and don’t do anythin’ dumb, ‘kay? Just leave all the interactin’ to me. Also, don’t wander. We ain’t guests here. We’re traders. We go to the place we’re allowed to be an’ leave.” 

Simple enough. She would hear no arguments from him on that. 

The inside beyond the walls was an array of barricades, spikes and defensives, some of which stank clearly of magic. And goblins. Dozens of the nasty little buggers. Their forms were garbed in surprisingly fine leather with a few individuals even sporting a few hints of metal armours, which were a far cry from the tribal-wear his attackers had sported. Short-swords, bows and spears seemed to be the weapons of choice for most of the goblins, though he did notice a few other weapons that he couldn’t correctly identify without a closer look in use as well. 

And with any luck, they would remain unidentified for the entire time they were there and well into their journey back. 

To that effect, Ash made sure that he didn’t stare overmuch at any single individual too long and kept his eyes wandering and taking in all he could. 

Their hosts, as they were, didn’t seem all too fussed by their presence and most of the attention he saw directed their way was either one of curiosity or a mild interest. Most of the curious looks were pointed at him, he noted, which he supposed meant that they were largely used to Myr by then which was a slight balm on his nerves. 

Though the few hostile glares he spied amidst the sea of goblins proved plenty to reignite those worries easily enough. 

A short distance away from the first set of walls was a second ring of inner walls which seemed purely made of stone this time, and much like the last time, they had to wait until the stone itself parted to allow them a path inside. 

There were no barricades or spikes to greet him inside the inner ring of the goblin settlement, but rather an array of structures that were immediately recognizable as houses and shops and meeting grounds and more. They were all painted in eye-searingly bright colours that would have made any design student balk with outrage, and all manner of extensive ornamentation filled every available surface on the buildings, though the quantity and quality varied from structure to structure. 

Ash balked at the colourful assault on his eyes and did so again when he noticed the sheer number of the little green buggers that he saw busied with their goblin-lives all around him. There must have been at least a few hundred of them in just the area surrounding the walls, and they were all wearing what was unmistakably civilian garb and all manner of strange and colourful ornaments on their persons. 

And though their far more intense stares made him more than nervous, Ash somehow managed to quickly collect himself again and muster up a mask of feigned calmness. 

Myr seemed to have a set path she was following and the fact they’d been allowed to walk without so much as an escort told him that there was a level of trust there, and that wasn’t something he dared to risk. He supposed that put that way, her allowing him to follow beside her was in of itself a risk to her own safety as much as it was to his own. Anything he did wrong was unlikely to reflect well on her. 

The goblins parted like a sea of focused stares as they went, and Ash did his best to ignore the tumult of whispers and murmurs that followed in their wake. 

It was a few minutes later that they found themselves before their destination. It was a small shop not too far beyond the stone walls. The structure itself seemed rather old given by the obvious signs of age that marked its surface, but it was well-maintained and rather well-off if the ample ornamentation that decorated its outside was of any indication. The store-front itself was painted in bright shades of purples and pinks, and what he could spy of its interior indicated that the inside was no different. 

They had to bend to enter through the goblin-sized door and whilst the roof was tall enough to accommodate their height, it was still a tight fit. 

The inside was as bright and colourful as the outside had been, all be it added with a hectic mish-mash of items and products on display distributed across the shop’s walls. 

“Trusted human Myr, you return so soon!” called a portly and old little goblin with a full beard and a wizened smile on his lips. The old fellow wore clothes of purples and pinks that were just as ostentatious as that which he saw outside, but of unmistakably superior quality and workmanship that was obvious even to Ash. He idly wondered what the significance of their ample use of purples was. 

The words he spoke were in a guttural language that he faintly remembered one of his attackers using until Myr had put an end to them, and much like Myr’s language, he understood it without issue. 

The fellow waddled over and made a gesture involving an open hand over his chest and then pressed against his head. Myr mimicked the gesture with a smile on her face. 

“Hopin’ that I’m no bother, Wixxacks.” she answered in the same tongue. 

“Trusted human Myr is only a bother sometimes!” he replied with a hearty laugh as the woman cast her thick bag before him. “But this time I welcome her happily! You are tall and thick!” 

Ash raised an eye at the blunt statement but if Myr had taken offense, her face definitely didn’t show it. 

“And you are wide and wealthy.” she retorted with a casual smile, seemingly well used to the treatment. 

“Indeed, I am! And is this the human male you spoke of last time? He is smaller than you, but he will make a fine mate!” 

It took an effort of will to hide his surprise at the statement, but he managed it somehow. 

“Aye, he is, though he ain’t my mate. I think his manhood might be broken seeing how he constantly rejects my advances.” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. 

Ash loosed a mental scream. His manhood was fine, damnit! Sorry that he wasn’t drooling over a woman he barely knew in a situation like his. Of course, his face was as calm as a summer’s day. 

“He also doesn’t speak the fair tongue so there ain’t no point in speaking to him.” 

Ash was about to retort that he very much did speak their ‘fair tongue’ but decided to keep that tid-bit of information to himself. Hadn’t Myr told him to keep his mouth shut? No point in drawing undue attention to himself, and as he’d hoped, the aged goblin soon returned his gaze towards Myr. 

“So, I’m guessin’ that you got that item I asked you to prepare for me the last time I was here?” 

“Yes, of course! Is this to your satisfaction?” asked Wixxacks as he pulled a smooth white marble like stone from within a hidden pocket in his multi-coloured robes. 

Myr whistled in appreciation and nodded. “That’ll do fine, mhm.” she said as she gently plucked it from the goblin’s grasp and swivelled to face Ash. 

“Stay still.” was all she said before she held out the marble towards the middle of his body, right between his chest and his gut. Ash hadn’t a clue what she was doing but he obeyed nonetheless. 

For a moment, nothing happened, but then he felt it. A sucking motion from the stone, but not physically. It was spiritual! It was drawing in his mana right out of his channels! Ash panicked and made to move away but a look from Myr convinced him otherwise. “It won’t hurt you, little baby-man. It’ll just take a little mana so stand still.” 

Ash scowled. She could’ve told him that to begin with, he thought, but uneasily maintained his place as the stone continued to draw on his mana. He withdrew into his inner self to watch the process as it happened and noted that the suction from the stone didn’t seem evenly distributed. It seemed to draw on the mana in the channels around his hands far more strongly than it did anywhere else, and the draw seemed weakest around his heart. 

Was it because he had a nexus in his hands? Whatever the case, it stopped soon enough and he returned to see the marble glowing with a bright orange light for a scant few seconds before it turned dull again. 

Myr smiled and nodded before she handed the stone back to the goblin and they immersed themselves in quiet discussion over whatever had happened. Ash wanted to question Myr about what she’d just done but decided to hold his tongue until a later time. He wasn’t hurt or anything and the mana the stone had drawn had been a small enough amount so he wasn’t overly worried.