The next day, Hammon’s Bog was a flurry of activity. He’d expected to see weeping and depression. He’d envisioned sorrowful and depressed people idly picking through the rubble of their homes or openly sobbing on the streets. He’d expected mourning, and there would be mourning later, but for today everyone was busy.

The [Lumberjacks] and [Woodsmen] were gathering lumber, the [Carpenters] and [Woodworkers] were already rebuilding homes and businesses. Those townspeople who had sheltered in the temple worked twice as hard as everyone else, maybe feeling the need to make up for hiding during the worst of the battle.

Everyone did the things they were good at. The [Sweepers] swept, the [Bakers] baked. On every street he walked down, at least three people asked him if he was hungry, to which he always answered yes. He seemed to have a bottomless stomach today. A [Seamstress] asked him if he needed clothes to be replaced, offering to do it for free, and while he did actually need new clothes he figured he would hire Myra for that.

Several people directed him to Calisto the [Alchemist] or the [Midwife] for healing of the wounds they’d seen him take, which he really didn’t need. His wounds had already all scabbed over, and while the cut on his chest still twanged with a bit of pain now and again, it would only be a matter of time until it was completely fixed up and [Scarred, but Healing] would tick up a couple more percentage points.

The temple was busy, with Ellion leading a crowd in preparing the dead for funeral and cremation. He also tended to those still recovering from the curse who didn’t have anyone to bring them home, meaning just Prefit Elmon and the adventurers.

Children scurried around everywhere. The younger children played with sticks, imagining the war, which in their minds must’ve been the most heroic and glorious thing to ever happen. The older ones ran to and fro doing whatever they could to help, mostly acting as pack mules. They seemed energized and happy to finally get to do something useful after days of sitting idly while watching their parents fight for their lives.

It made Brin want to do something, which led him to Ademir’s shop. No, Ademsi’s shop.

He found the wooden man slumped over Ademir’s worktable, the puppet one, the place where Ademsi 2000 had probably been born.

Ademsi jumped in panic when Brin entered the room. He spun around, but his clockwork features softened in relief when he saw Brin.

“Oh, it’s just you,” said Ademsi.

“Yeah, just checking in. How are you doing there, big guy?”

“I sorrow,” said Ademsi.

“I know.” Brin wiped his face. “Listen, I hope you know that I am so, so—“

Ademsi held up a hand. “Do not! You will not regret my father’s choices. He did not, and neither shall I. You will be grateful for his sacrifice and you will honor him.”

“I will,” Brin said solemnly. “And I’ll do whatever I can for you. He’d want that.”

Ademsi nodded. “Tomorrow, I will attend my father’s funeral. I will do so with my face bare to the sky and all shall see me and know me and know that I fought for them. And fought valiantly! None fought more bravely than I!”

“I agree,” said Brin. “But don’t you think—“

“Ellion the priest came to me. He told me that he will speak on my behalf during the funeral. I do not need his words, but perhaps this will protect the people, because I fear no man and will brook no insult.”

“Ellion said that? I thought priests hated [Witches],” said Brin.

“Then they are fools. But I do not believe Ellion is a fool,” said Ademsi. “It is irrelevant. I am neither [Witch] nor familiar now. I am a free soul. Though I never asked for freedom, it is mine nonetheless.”

He’d need to ask Ellion about this, because Brin had always kind of assumed that familiars would sort of… deactivate after their [Witch’s] death. That clearly hadn’t happened, and Ellion expected Ademsi to live a full life if he was making plans to integrate him into the community.

He used [Inspect].

Automaton was better than puppet, which is what Brin had been calling him in his head. It didn’t say anything about being a familiar, just that he was created by a [Crafter]. Maybe he wasn’t a familiar anymore, just an ordinary magical creature. Once Hogg had told him that some people thought all the monsters in the world were descended from [Witches] who’d turned themselves into monsters, but what if they were actually all the descendents of familiars?

Brin’s instinct was still to say that Ademsi would be in danger of a mob, but that might be prejudice. Just because they hadn’t liked him at first didn’t mean that they wouldn’t like a giant, attractive, heroic wooden man. These people had grown up in a magical world; their ideas of strange were completely different from his.

He’d keep an eye on things, and do what he could for Ademsi, in any case. He owed Ademir that much.

“Hey, listen, I was wondering if I could still use this workshop. The town is going to need glass, lots of it, and now I’m the only person who can make it.”

“I can make glass, too. This is my workshop,” said Ademsi. “Ademir left it to me.”

“I know that. I was just asking if I could come in and use it, the way that Ademir used to let me. I’ll respect your answer if it’s no.”

“Oh, um, er…” Ademsi stood and began to pace. “I suppose… but wait…”

“It’s alright if you need some time to decide,” said Brin.

“Wait! I can decide. You… um… you…”

The normal confident automaton looked completely wrecked by the question. Brin felt for him. Despite his imposing form, he was basically a child, and now an orphan.

The door to the staircase leading up to Ademir’s living space opened, which was a surprise. Brin had never seen that door open.

A nude woman walked out. That was the way his brain processed it, even though the woman was made of wooden pieces that fit together like clockwork, and there was nothing overly anatomical about the way she’d been crafted. Like Ademsi, she was made of perfectly interlocking wooden pieces, trimmed and decorated with polished metal. Unlike Ademsi, who was bald, she had a mane of raven black hair. Straight like Myra or Tawna, rather than curly brown like nearly everyone else in town.

She was stunning, a work of art, and a match for Ademsi. Ademir had two familiars. That’s why Ademir had always been so certain that his workshop was safe–he’d had another familiar defending him. If he’d stayed in his shop instead of going to the town square yesterday, he’d probably still be alive. And Brin would be dead. No, more likely Bruna.

The female automaton stepped gingerly over to Ademsi, moving more daintily than nearly any woman Brin had ever seen, and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “This is a friend of father’s and your friend, too. He will not wish to take advantage of you. Ask him for a portion? A percentage of the sale price?”

“Naturally,” said Brin. “I thought that went without saying. Sorry, who’s this?”

Ademsi stood up straight. “Allow me to introduce my counterpart. This is Evita.”

“Evita 2000, now,” she said.

“Yes,” said Ademsi.

“Pleased to meet you! And let me say that you have very pretty—“

A faint glow of red in Ademsi’s eyes made Brin switch the last part of what he was about to say from “eyes” to “name. You have a very pretty name.”

Ademsi relaxed, and Evita put a hand to her mouth demurely. “Thank you.”

“The going rate in town for this sort of thing is between 15 and 30 percent,” said Brin, which wasn’t quite true. Fifteen percent would be the price just to use the shop and tools, while 30 percent would be if the shop also supplied the materials. He planned on supplying all the materials himself, but wanted to give Ademsi a good rate without making him think he was doing him a favor. “Shall we say 20%?”

Ademsi made eye-contact with Evita and then nodded, regaining his confidence. “Acceptable.”

He shook on it and made his good-byes. Ademsi seemed to be doing well, but Brin wanted to get some supplies before he really got started. He thought it would be smarter to do things the old-fashioned way and then speed it up with magic, rather than just summon and shape all the glass with magic. He wanted to set things up so that he’d be able to work all day rather than burn through his entire mana supply in minutes and then have nothing to do. Although, come to think of it, his mana supply was very large now.

Since Gudio was laid up with the curse, he probably wouldn’t get more silica today. He headed towards home.

Zilly found him on the way. She just started walking next to him without preamble, jaw clenched. She walked quickly enough that he had to speed up to keep next to her.

“Hey, did you know?” she said suddenly with fake nonchalance. “Myra’s father didn’t die. Tawna isn’t a widow. Her husband left them.”

“Oh, boy,” said Brin. That was a whole can of worms. Divorce wasn’t really a thing here, because it wasn’t necessary. Why go through a messy legal battle when you could just leave town and never be seen again? That being the case, the stigma against those who were left behind was real. Zilly telling Brin this was a pretty nasty thing to do.

“Right? She acts like—”

Brin cut her off. “I’m going to do you a favor, and pretend like I never heard you say this. Why, Zilly?”

Zilly’s face went red, whether from anger or shame he couldn’t tell. “I did what you said and tried to talk to her, but she—”

“No,” Brin cut her off. “I didn’t tell you to talk to her. I told you to apologize to her. You’ve been treating her like dirt since you got your Class. She thinks you’re too good for her now that you have a Rare Class and she’s just a Commoner.”

Zilly spluttered. “She knows I don’t think like that!”

“She really doesn’t,” said Brin.

“Why are you taking her side? You didn’t even hear what she said to me!”

“I don’t want to hear it,” said Brin.

Zilly stopped walking. Brin looked up to see Myra coming from the other direction. Zilly muttered “See you later,” and then she was gone.

Myra approached with a smile, acting like she hadn’t noticed Zilly at all. Marksi was sitting on her shoulders, though obviously taking pains to hide behind her head.

“Ok, Brin, it’s time for you to finally see this,” said Myra. “Ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“Tada!” Myra said, and Marksi jumped over her had and landed on the ground. Overall, he seemed to have taken well to the Wyrd stone he’d eaten. He’d grown since last night, a few inches longer, but he was bulkier with more muscle. His legs had grown longer as well, and now he could stand upright when he wanted and didn’t look so funny when he ran. He had the beginnings of a spine on his head and back, made of spikes of bone. The only other effect Brin had noticed was the coloration. Marksi still shifted with a rainbow of color, but his claws were always a bit darker and tinged with black when he slept.

That’s not what drew Brin’s attention, though. Marksi was wearing pants, a shirt, a nice overcoat, polished leather shoes, and held a tophat in his hands. He looked every bit the foppish noble gentleman that Brin had only ever seen in Gustaff’s movies.

It was one of the best and greatest things Brin had seen in his life. He squeaked a little at the cuteness, and Marksi purred at the attention.

“Put on the hat!” Myra said.

Marksi put it on, but it slipped off.

“Come on, you did that thing again! Fix your face!”

Marksi’s head grew slightly, filling out until the hat fit perfectly.

“No. What? What was that? What did you just do?”

“I don’t know. He’s been doing that all morning,” Myra admitted.

Marksi squeaked happily and then ran up Brin’s body until he was holding him in his arms. Marksi pulled, so Brin brought him closer to his face. “You want to show me something?”

Once he was sure Brin was watching, Marksi lifted a hand and brought his claws out. Then they kept going, growing longer and longer, until they were nearly six inches long, insanely long for an animal his size. Then they shrank again. Next, Marksi scooted around and wiggled his butt. His tail shrank four whole inches, and then grew long again.

“That’s not illusion. He’s shape-shifting.”

Myra shrugged.

“I guess it makes sense,” Brin said, mostly trying to convince himself. “[Witch] magic can do transformation. If that’s the only thing that happened to you from eating that witchy beast core, then we can count ourselves lucky. Honestly, Marksi! You can’t eat every strange glowing rock you find on the ground! I was really worried about you!”

Marksi plucked his jacket. He didn’t want to get scolded again. He wanted to show off his new clothes.

“Yes, yes, they’re very nice. You’re very handsome. Honestly though, Myra, these are terrific. I can’t believe how good he looks,” said Brin. He would take a picture, but he had his ring on, he would be able to remember this any time he wanted.

“All in a day’s work for a [Weaver],” said Myra. “There’s not a lot I can do for a handsome little man like Marksi, but a fine suit of clothes is doable.”

“I love it,” said Brin.

Myra glanced to the side, seeming to muster her courage. “I saw you talking to Zilly just now… Did she tell you–? Never mind. I don’t have my father’s name, you know. I never did. [Weaver’s] are matrilineal. Lots of guys don’t like that, but… Well if you ever married a [Weaver], a different [Weaver] I mean, then you wouldn’t have to be Mistaken anymore.”

Brin smiled. “Huh. That’s interesting. I didn’t know that.”

Myra cleared her throat. “Anyways, I gotta go. Enjoy!”

Brin waited until she was out of sight, then shook his head. Was pretending to be oblivious really the right choice here? He didn’t know what else to do. Teenagers and their drama.

He approached the edge of town, but not the walls. They’d already been torn down. With real [Knights] guarding the perimeter, there was no need for them. By the time Lumina and her entourage left, Hammon’s Bog would have new walls, even higher than before. The Prefit was still laying on a rug in the temple, but he’d recovered enough to start speaking, and last Brin heard he was raving about huge walls of stone. That was possible now that Neptune’s tunnel was now open for use of the town.

Hogg’s place in town had taken some damage during the fighting, so he was back at his old house in the woods. It was a novel feeling to walk down this road again, freely leaving the walls behind, to enter a forest that was suddenly safe again.

He walked down the road, feeling stranger and stranger. After the terror of the last few months, it felt insane to live alone out here. How did they really know the danger was past? Well, Hogg had his visible eyes keeping watch, and now Lumina was there.

He heard laughing from inside the house and opened the door to find Lumina leaning forward on the couch, smiling at something Hogg had said. He was sprawled out on his favorite chair, looking more rested and less paralyzed than he had even that morning.

While she wasn’t actively doing magic, Lumina looked a little more like a regular person and less like the avatar of flame and destruction. Her left hand was still pitch black, but the spreading had stopped just past the wrist. He didn’t know what was going on with that and they refused to tell him. She casually hid the hand behind her leg when she noticed him looking.

“Something’s weird with Marksi!” said Brin. “He can shapeshift.”

Lumina’s eyes went wide. “Those clothes!”

She held out her hands, and Marksi ran over and jumped into her arms. She squealed and poured over him with compliments. Lumina had fallen in love with the little dragon instantly, and Marksi was always happy to be adored. He showed her how he could make his claws grow and retract.

“Oh! Very impressive!” Lumina doted.

“That’s not weird to you at all?” Brin asked.

“Of course it’s weird! But what’s wrong with that?” said Hogg.

“I’ll check him over again if you wish, but I don’t think you need to worry. Dragons know what’s good for them,” said Lumina. “It’s good you’re here, though. We’ve been meaning to speak to you. About the war, and about what it means for you. Oh, but first, tell me what you decided with your Skills.”

He’d passed level thirty, which meant that he had a Skill for [Glasser] and an [Illusionist] Skill waiting for him. On the glass front, he had some interesting options.

Hogg and Lumina had already told him to take [Shape Glass]. As intriguing as the line about “a variety of glass properties” in [Summon Glass] was, power came from specialization. If he absolutely needed strong glass in a pinch, it made more sense to just summon regular glass and then his more powerful [Shape Glass] Skill to turn it into what he needed.

“I keep thinking about [Chemical Resistance],” said Brin.

Lumina smiled patiently. “You should wear gloves in the workshop, and a mask if there are airborne toxins.”

“I was thinking about outside of the workshop.”

“You aren’t a tank. You need to learn to not get hit in the first place,” said Hogg.

“There are other ways to earn poison resistance, dear,” said Lumina.

Brin sighed. “Fine.” There was never really any doubt. He wasn’t going to ignore the advice of two of the highest people in the kingdom out of some childish need to assert himself. He took [Shape Glass].

Next was the [Illusionist] Skill.

“And you’re really sure that Copy Illusion–”

“It’s not for you,” said Lumina.

“You’ll be able to do that without the Skill soon enough,” said Hogg.

The normal path for an [Illusionist] would be to take that Skill right away. That’s what Gustaff had done. One Skill to copy illusions, another Skill to store them, and then he could make a good living grabbing movies from the city and replaying them in small towns. Hogg, on the other hand, had paid a premium to have a specialist put a light-based computer in his brain that automated much of his magic.

Brin took [Call Light through Glass].

“Bad luck, that. I was hoping for [Split Focus] or even better, [Persistent Casting]. As soon as you get [Persistent Casting] we’ll be able to set you up with a Lightmind. Hopefully it’ll come at thirty-five.” Hogg spoke without moving his face much. His voice sounded animated, but it was clear that he had to strain for even the slightest movement.

“Hopefully,” agreed Brin. He took a seat on the yellow sofa. He held his hands out for Marksi, but the dragonling was perfectly happy on Lumina’s lap. “So what’s this about the war?”

“I just received word that the war with Prinnash has ended. The war against Arcaena is never really over, but on paper that is ending, too. The king received emissaries stating her intention to surrender to Olland.”

“What? She lost one army to one little town in the middle of nowhere, and that’s enough to end the war and make her surrender?” asked Brin.

“There are still legions of undead crawling around in tunnels under every inch of Frenaria, with no word on what she plans with them. And you may have noticed that I said she surrendered to Olland, not Frenaria or Prinnash. Arcaena’s true goals remain opaque as they always have, but we must assume that the loss of a [Great Witch] was a stinging blow, and that she was forced to readjust her plans.”

“I see,” said Brin.

“More importantly for you, the death of Awnadil represents the death of Arcaena’s last bit of interest in you. She was the last one in the Queendom with any connection to you. You’re free.”

“Are you sure? Awnadil seemed strangely insistent on bringing me away with her,” said Brin.

Hogg shook his head, weakly but with all of his usual attitude. “Nah. She didn’t care one bent straw about you. That godmother excuse was just a bit of a power-up for her. They really do get stronger when they’re defending their own, and since you were standing there like an idiot, she took advantage.”

“I’m sorry!” Brin said. “Your hand, are you--”

“No, don’t worry about me,” said Lumina. “We’re here to talk about you.”

“But I am going to worry, whether you want me to or not. Are you—Are you going to die?”

Lumina’s eyes went wide. “Heavens no! Is that what you thought? It’s only a bit embarrassing, that’s all. An [Archmage] should be able to shrug curses off like raindrops on a bird. My master would never be vulnerable to something like this. No, it gave me a Title that hampers my magic. That’s all. Five points per level.”

“Five… five points of magic per level? It steals that much? How are you still alive? How can you do anything? Can it be removed? What if I could introduce you to another--”

“Don’t finish that sentence, it’ll just make things awkward,” said Hogg.

“I’m sure I could remove it, and I will if I must, but I think I’d rather try to advance it in a way that turns it around and brings it to benefit rather than harm,” said Lumina.

“Oh. Oh! Like my [Scarred] Title,” said Brin.

“Exactly,” said Lumina, eyes sparkling in delight. Then she frowned. “Don’t think I missed the scars, by the way. This was supposed to be a safe place for you! And now look at you! When I find that [Weaver]…”

The good people of Hammon’s Bog had been all too eager to throw Tawna under the bus the second an [Archmage] started poking around asking why her adopted son was crisscrossed with old scars. Brin really didn’t know what would happen if Lumina ever found her.

Lumina cleared her throat. “The point is, you have some options for what you want to do next. I don’t expect you’ll want to stay here your whole life.”

“Is there even going to be a Hammon’s Bog my whole life? I’d think a lot of people will want to leave, after what happened.”

“I expect the opposite,” said Hogg. “People become attached to a place after they’ve bled for it, and the average level in this town just rose by quite a bit. I expect to see a big influx of newcomers, once word of what happened here spreads. Don’t get us wrong, staying here is always an option. The problem is that I can’t stay here forever. I need to go rebuild all my business contacts, and honestly, I think it might be a good experience for you to come along.”

“That sounds great, actually,” said Brin.

“After that… well, the long and short of it is that the crown knows about me now. We haven’t heard anything yet, but chances are they’ll either pull me into their war or pull me into the tower.”

“We’re not sure if either of those would be a good place for you,” said Lumina, hesitantly.

“Me either. What about my… what about my birthmother?” asked Brin.

“What about her?”

“She’s still alive.”

Lumina pursed her lips and looked at Hogg. He looked back and nodded softly.

“She’s alive,” Lumina admitted. “But she’s not her. Our spies tell us that the [Witch] known as Aberfa Beynon was punished by Arcaena. She was forced to turn her magic upon herself and transform into a monster. A beast, something beyond reason. Her mind is gone, as is her memory of you.”

“I see,” said Brin.

That was it. Strange, just “alert” with no message. The System hadn’t glitched on him since he first arrived.

“By the way, I can’t believe you’ve been making everyone call you Brin when your name was Aberthol! It’s a good name, even if I can’t like the one who gave it to you,” said Lumina with a slight smile. She was trying to lighten the mood, but he was too distracted by the weird System messages.

Brin met Lumina’s eyes. “I’d like to travel, some, with Hogg while he still can. And then there’s a monster I need to hunt. Will you help me?”

She smiled back, a bit sadly. “Of course.”

milestyle

And there it is! Final chapter of book 2. If you want more, we're several chapters into book 3 on Patreon. Otherwise, I'll return to posting here after a bit of a break. Thanks for reading!

The End of Book 2