Back on the Timbergrove, within the bowels of the ship’s mess room, a makeshift priceless lightsource hangs from the ceiling on a bit of string. The light source illuminates the room with a violet glow like a lantern with purple tinted glass. Below the lightsource and directly on the table, Cillian unrolls a map.

“This is Tristique.” He says.

The map of Tristique is a map of the archipelago on steroids. A large landmass occupies the center of the map, which is surrounded by several large islands. Further away from the center are even more, smaller islands, which get smaller and smaller as you get farther and farther away from the center. The islands easily number in the tens of thousands, if not more.

“Oy, Myers, where are we?” I ask. My eyes roam the map and the various names written over the islands, but nothing stands out as our location.

The old man stands up and then points at the edge of the map, at the furthest corner he can. He taps a tiny little dot. “This is Arbor.”

Then he taps another tiny dot an inch closer to the center. “This is Breston, our next destination.”

Holy shit, Tristique is massive. “You said it takes us a month to go from Arbor to Breston. What if I need to go to the center?” I point a paw at the largest island. “It’s going to take us a year.”

Myers shakes his head, “It will if you don't use the slipstreams.”

“The slip what now?”

Myers leans forward. “The slipstreams. They’re not marked on this map, but-” he traces a finger through the map as though he is making a route past islands. “They are streams of rapidly moving wind and mana that allow ships to traverse at higher speeds. If we’d had a slipstream between Arbor and Breston, we’d be able to get to Breston in three days instead of a month.”

Airship Highways. That's pretty neat.

“Good to know. Now, mind giving us a refresher course on the major powers and the various species?”

“I can.” Myers turns to the side. “Clay, listen closely. This is important for you to know as well.”

The child perks up. “Okay!”

“We’ll start with the six major species. The most numerous are humans. We are everywhere, but we are also the most short-lived in comparison to the others.”

“I’ve not seen any other species except for humans.” I add.

“We’ll see some in Breston,” Myers adds, “though probably not much. The closer we get to the center, the more you’ll see.”

He clears his throat.

“Next, we’ve got the Gemma, better known as the Stone-kin. They are a long-lived species generally larger than humans with a lifespan three times longer than ours. Their skin is as hard and as rough as stone. They are mostly crafters and artisans that have the highest level [Rune Smiths] in all of Tristique.”

Myers points at one of the islands closer to the center. “Their capital is called Lapis and is where a vast majority of all high-end Runic weapons are forged.”

“So, long-lived master crafters. Got it. Next?”

Myers glances at Clay to make sure the child is following along.

“Next, we have the Buxon. The Buxon are at least seven feet tall, extremely strong, and are covered in bone armor under their skin. They are a very warlike species that would have dominated all others if not for their inability to use mana.”

I perk up, “They can't use mana?”

Myers shakes his head. “They cant use external mana and their internal supply is generally too low to be of any use. The Stone-kin also can't use external mana, but their internal mana is exceptionally large- which allows them to wear runic equipment and use runic weapons in mass.”

“But the Buxon can't.”

“No, nor do they need to. A single Buxon can take out an entire ship's crew on their own if they were to ever board. They are fast, agile, powerful, and intelligent. Even the Wolven avoid fighting them.”

I perk up. “Wolven?”

“Yes. The next species is the Wolven. They are bipedal beasts similar to a Fenrimorph- minus the four eyes, horns, spiked tail, and are generally smaller. They are stronger, faster, and more agile than humans, with a marginally lower supply of mana.” Myers grimaces as he glances at me.

“They are also the source of the curse. The curse of Fenris is a sickness that can transform any sentient monster into a Fenrimorph.”

I yawn, “Yea, I know. I kinda watched the transformation happen and went through it. It's not fun.”

“You’re taking this too lightly.” Myers growls unexpectedly. “The sighting of a single Fenrimorph in a town will have the Wolven Inquisition exterminating everyone. If you transform at the wrong place and wrong time, you could damn an entire population to death.”

I lean back in surprise at the anger and frustration in the old man's tone. You’ve got history.

“I understand. Don't get seen and don't accidentally infect someone. Got it.”

He frowns at my answer, but leans back in his chair.

“Good. Let's head into the next species. The Phytonid are sentient plants that differ greatly in looks and capability except for their ability to utilize magic. Each and every one of their kind are exceptional spellcasters that few humans can ever hope to compete against.”

“Plant people? Really? What do they look like? Or are all of them different?”

Myers tilts his head back in thought. “It’s hard to explain. I’d give a poor explanation if I tried.”

“Will Breston have any of these Phytonid?” I ask.

“They… might. Again, wait till you see them.”

I pout at his answer. I’ve met only one sentient plant-based race in all of my summons, and that race was parasitic to every living thing..

“Fine. I’ll wait. What’s the last species?”

“Insectoid- or as many call them, bugs. They are a race of oversized insects ruled by massive Queens that control hives the size of towns. The Queens produce the insectoids- of which each hive differs from the others.”

Myers leans up and makes a circle at the northwestern point of the map. “Most of the hives are generally in this entire area. Many of them are constantly at war with one-another and tend to be antagonistic to the other races. Their lifespans can range from a decade to thousands of years- with the queens generally living the longest.”

“Can they use mana?” I ask.

“If the Insectoids are bred to, then yes. Though, it is quite rare as it seems very few queens know how.”

I nod to Myers and then stand up on my back legs so as to get a better look of the map.

“Six species including humans. Insectoids are in the northwestern part of the planet. The Stone-kin capital is here,” I point at the island near the center. “What of the other races? What about major powers?”

“The wolven empire is located on the island of Okami.” he points at another of the islands orbiting the center of the map. “The Buxon dictatorship is farther to the west- on one of the larger islands called Taurus.”

He points at an island near the stone-kin’s capital with a grimace. The kingdom of Fallantine rests on the island of Fallan. They have the largest human population and are considered by many to be humanity’s capital.”

“The Phytonid don’t generally have a capital, but some would argue that their capital is,” he points at the largest island near the central landmass. “On the island of Magnis where the Republic of Guilds is located.”

“And the republic of guilds are…”

“A combination of both major and minor guilds- with the three largest and strongest guilds taking up the major leadership positions. The Merchant guild, the Smith guild, and the Mage Guild. The Mage Guild in particular is led by the Phytonid.”

“Now, those are merely the major powers. Numerous Kingdoms, city-states, and the like reside across all of Tristique. But, none of them have the equivalent combined political, militaristic, and financial might as the major powers I mentioned.”

I cross my paws and stare at the map in its entirety for several seconds of silence, which is only broken by the sound of my growling stomach.

“Lunch-Break. It’s time for a lunch break.” I decide.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Emma.”

The sound of stone scraping wood emanates for a moment as the door is blasted open.

“Have you been working for free again?” a deep, manly gruff voice exclaims resolutely. The man, a hulking eight foot statue with granular gray skin enters the bedroom.

The woman yawns. Her eyes flutter open with a grimace when she eyes her fathers grimace.

“Dad, it’s early-.”

“It’s nearly evening!” The father says. He stares at the young Gemma resting on a wooden mattress. Not a stone one like his- like a normal Gemma would have.

“Now, answer my question. Have you been working for free again?”

She groans again. Then pouts. She looks at her father- the man's expression is far less expressive in comparison to the human she’d grown up around. No changes of facial color or much structural changes in his face or posture. The man is more statue than Gemma- which for most is unsettling. But, that's why you focus on the yes. And from his eyes, she notices that he’s upset more than usual.

“Yes, dad. I was doing some work in the impoverished district. The water purifier had some damaged runes. I only repaired them.

“You completely redid the runes and used an entire emerald for the drawing.”

She quickly sits up. “How did you-”

“Because I redid your work.”

“You did what?”

“I chipped away the emerald and replaced it with a low quality sapphire.”

“WHY!” She cries out. “I spent all night redoing the whole runic network and I installed the emerald precisely because it will last far longer. Their purifier keeps breaking and an emerald should be more resilient to the elements.”

“You are an ignorant child.”

Emma’s anger flares. Her skin hardens as adrenaline courses through her. “Me? Ignorant? No, you’re the heartless, ignorant one! All you care about is coin! How about growing a heart and helping people!”

“You don't understand.” he says.

“NO.” She hops up off the bed. “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” she yells and then walks out of her room.

The father watches his daughter rush past him. Her legs scrape the hardened wood floor, then he hears the impacts of her feet as she rushes down the stairs. A door opens and then crashes closed followed by the ringing of a bell.

The father blinks slowly.

“So young and ignorant.” He says as softly as his gruff voice can.

He hears the ringing of the bell again downstairs.

“Hmmm.” he rumbles thoughtfully. He walks out of the room, down the stairs, and then moves to the store counter.

“Agron, good afternoon. Your, uh, daughter seems upset.”

Agron looks at the human at the other side of the counter. The man is dressed well, with a nice armored coat and thick cargo shorts that mesh well with the tricorn on his head. “How do you deal with such childish ignorance?”

Florence chuckles. “You’re talking about teenagers. As for dealing with them, well, that's part of parenting. All you can do is be there to lift them up when they fall.”

“For how long?”

Florence scratches his chin, “For however long it takes.”

Agron nods slowly, which elicits the sound of grinding stone. “That I can do… now. What is it you need?”

Florence clears his throat while his ears turn red. “Well, you know that Refrigerator Rune you installed in my ship's pantry?”

“Yes.” Agron nods.

“I, uh, may have filled the pantry too much.”

Agron waits and continues listening.

“Then there was a manastorm nearby.”

“The rune froze over and got damaged.” Agron quickly concludes. “I informed you to make sure there is plenty of airflow within the pantry so if the temperature decreases too much, there will be plenty of airflow. It seems you did not take my directions to heart.”

Constantine blushes. “Yea, sorry about that. It was working so well, I bought a little too much meat- and well.” He shrugs with arms spread. “I hope this won’t cost me too much.”

“The rune was applied recently- so it will merely need a slight repair. I’d send my daughter, but she seems to be a bit emotionally indisposed. Give me a moment to grind a gem and I will follow you to your ship. It should not take long.”

Constantine sighs… and then realizes he’d never heard the price.

“The price-.”

“Will be given after I fully assess damages. Now give me a moment.”

_____________________________________________________________

As a cat, you’d think it would be difficult to fall asleep- what with the super hearing and bundles of energy in the middle of the night.

Well, no. It’s actually quite easy. I climb the bookcase and then lay down on the pillow at the top. And then I'm back into the white room with not one, but two ships floating near me. Both the Timbergrove and Imminent Huntress are present alongside two floating eyeballs. One green and the other red.

“Alright,” I say, “I’m naming you green and I’m naming you red.”

The eyeballs blink in silence. “So, considering you’re here, I leveled in both Job and Class. But before we start talking about that, why the fuck can’t there be only one of you. Why can't a single eye control both Job and Class?”

Green and Red blink at me. Then, both at once:

“That information is restricted.”

“That information is restricted.”

I sigh.

“Alright, whatever. Red, you're my class eyeball. What's new?”

“A single level? Really? Now that just doesn't seem fair.”

The eyeball blinks once and doesn't comment. Just floating and staring, awaiting my decision.

“Fine. Be weird.”

Now, where to put my attributes. Considering each attribute is a single percent increase, I should focus on my largest traits: Endurance and Strength. Endurance was useful for when I got shot by a gun- and would give me quite a bit of resistance to getting shot in the future. But, wearing armor is a far better way to avoid damage. Instead, let's go with strength. I’m already stronger than your average human by quite a bit, but is that really enough strength to go head to head with other species? Honestly, it may not be. If the Buxon can single-handedly wipe out a ship's crew on their own as Myers claims, then they must have strength near or equivalent to my own.

I probably should have asked about their average stats, but my gut says they’re significantly higher than humans but not at my own physical level. Strength would give me the ability to move about faster and overpower easier.

But, I shouldn't forget about the other traits. I don’t need vitality considering a longer lifespan won’t help me get to the seventy-two towers sooner. And mana regeneration is not a problem currently, though it could be in the future.

Perception is a strong possibility too. Too many forget how important senses are to understanding and reacting properly to the world around you. But, I think i’m at the point that increasing it further will only allow me to hear the beating of a heart louder than I already can. Also, I really don't need a better sense of smell.

Intelligence can be useful, but completely unnecessary. I’ve already got ways to learn quickly and my wisdom is at a level no mortal could hope to compete with.

As for mana? That's not a problem unless I want to turn into a leviathan. But, one percent increases aren’t going to help get me there. I’d need a skill of some kind instead.

Finally, we have control, and arguably the one I’m most curious about. The skill enhances precision and all-around usability of skills. I would honestly choose to put points in this skill if not for the fact that my control is less than the average humans. Which makes sense. I feel like a lumbering bear instead of a graceful kitten when I’m a fenrimorph.

“Wait a second.” I say allowed in realization.

I can increase my base stats! The fenrimorph’s lumbering movements are a result of degraded muscles. With training, I should be able to improve my control.

Wait! Not only control, but I can also increase my strength. Increasing strength should be much easier too.

“Alright Red, put all my attribute points into strength.”

“It is done.”

“Traits round. Good to know.”

“Will that be all?” Red asks.

“Yup, I’m done with you.”

The eyeball disappears. I turn to green.

“Alright. Show me my Job stuff.”

Only two levels from stealing a ship? That's just bull-shit. I deserve at the very least ten.

“Oh, wow. I can see the classes and levels of my crew. This is probably why Myers refuses to take a job. He doesn’t want me to see his class.”

I frown at the lack of changes. Other than my level increasing and my two new subordinates getting a job- and the other ship. Nothing else has changed.

“Is my [Captain's Authority] trait bonus active? I didn't see the bonus applied to my stats page.”

“Conditional trait enhancements are not calculated.” the eye answers.

“Huh, I'm surprised you answered.”

The eyeball blinks once.

“Will that be all?” It asks.

“Yup. You can send me back.”

“Understood.”

The eyeball disappears and then I start dreaming about milk.