Broken Lands

Sophia had met more of the villagers than she’d saved; everyone seemed to want to come meet her. She’d also figured out that there were at least three groups among the villagers. One wanted to go back to the town now and start fixing up places to sleep for the night. A second wanted to camp at the road and wait for support from either Casterville or the “helpful Called,” meaning Sophia, Dav, and Revina, to search the town and make certain it was clear. The third group wanted to head to Casterville immediately so that they could sleep there.

They all wanted Sophia’s support.

Sophia tried to be clear about what she knew: as far as she knew, the flame beavers were dead or routed, but she hadn’t actually searched the town. As far as she knew, the fires were out, but again, she hadn’t actually looked. She didn’t know if it was safe to return or how much of the town was intact. No, she didn’t think there were any untouched buildings that were big enough to hold everyone. No, she hadn’t seen any of their livestock, not even the chickens.

By the time the impromptu meet-and-greet was finished, Sophia was exhausted but she felt like she knew what was going on. The nameless town was close to Casterville, close enough that they could reach the actual city in a day’s travel, even with a loaded wagon. It wasn’t the closest village, but it wasn’t the farthest, either.

As for why it didn’t have a name, there were two reasons. First of all, it didn’t need a name beyond “my village.” There was nothing there anyone would want unless a Nest appeared, and in that case they would either send people to Casterville to get help or the village would be destroyed. That was the most likely cause of the Flame Beaver attack. Second, devastation was not that unusual; they expected to have to relocate about once a decade. There was no point in naming a place that was little more than a long-lived campsite.

Sophia wouldn’t want to live that way, but she couldn’t exactly blame them for it. It was what it was. If she were to blame them for anything, it would be the fact that they didn’t try to change things, but the reason for that was all too clear. Those who took a Vocation went to Casterville, they didn’t stay in a small village where there might not be a Nest any time soon. In Casterville, the Vocational Registry would help them find places they could fight, whether that was their hometown or not.

It was the same problem small towns across Earth had when there were big cities close enough to move to, a problem they’d had for centuries. It was also the same problem Arryn predicted for Fallen Kestii. Sophia didn’t have a solution.

After she celebrated her survival with Dav, Sophia had a decent night’s rest. Part of that was definitely the enchantments on her tent, but a lot more of it was the level of exhaustion she’d reached. She didn’t have any bad dreams until near morning, when she woke to Dav’s nightmare instead of her own. She didn’t ask what he dreamt of; she simply held him until he fell asleep again. He never quite seemed to be awake, so she wasn’t even certain he’d remember it in the morning.

After a quick breakfast, they headed off towards Casterville. A fraction of the villagers headed off towards their town; Sophia noticed that it included most of the hunters and two of the four Town Guards she’d met the previous night. She wished them well; as long as Arryn had dealt with the larger Flame Beavers, they’d probably be fine. Most of the rest of the villagers followed Arryn’s wagon like lost ducklings; they seemed to have decided that sticking close to the people who supposedly cleared out the monsters was a good idea.

Sophia couldn’t blame them, but that didn’t mean she wanted to deal with them this morning. She had nothing to talk to them about. Instead, she decided it was time to see what Cliff had to say. She’d put him off more than long enough, even if he didn’t mind the delay. He’d given no sign of annoyance; he hadn’t even reminded her. She still probably shouldn’t have pushed him off overnight. “What did you get, Cliff?”

“Two monsters, six spells, and a Martial Technique!” Cliff sounded absolutely excited.

Sophia wondered if he even realized how long she’d forced him to wait. Somehow, she didn’t think he did; was that because he used to be a dungeon or because of what the Guide did to them?

She couldn’t blame him at all for being excited. In fact, with six new spells, Sophia already regretted not talking to him earlier.

“I already told you about the Enraged Beavers. The bigger ones are Flickering Rage Beavers.” Flickering had to refer to the specks of flame that fanned out from the larger beavers. They’d also seemed a little smarter than their Enraged lesser cousins; maybe they were less enraged? It could also be a normal progression, at least if the monsters were like monsters back on Earth. There was no real reason to assume that, with how different everything was, but there was also no reason not to.

“The spells are Rush, Flaming Spark, Spit Fire, Buffet, Slice, and Hydrokinesis. The Martial Technique is Consuming Rage,” Cliff reported gleefully. “Consuming Rage is really interesting, because it actually burns you from the inside out while you use it if you run out of mana. It makes you a lot stronger. Rush is really boring, it just moves you forward. Flaming Spark seems really weak, it can light flammable things on fire and that’s it. Spit Fire is exactly what it says it is, it’s a spell to create a tiny fire in your mouth that you spit at the enemy. Hydrokinesis also sounds pretty weak, it just says you can move water, but it’s different somehow. It’s hard to read, like it’s there and not-there at the same time.”

Sophia kept walking mechanically. Hydrokinesis had to have come from the ritual she’d cast. That was crazy; could she really have taught Cliff spells this entire time? Had she simply missed the obvious?

No, that didn’t make sense. She’d used spells she built from spellforms. A few of them, at least. If it was that easy, Cliff would have picked up one by now. She tried to remember what she’d done.

She’d melted metal with one, to build the sled. She’d used light to try to track her manaflows as a sort of a poor man’s mana sight. She’d given an example of a more efficient Slice spell to Revina. That was all she could think of offhand; if there were others, she wasn’t thinking of them.

It probably wasn’t just the amount of time the spell was used, or Cliff would have Collected the welding-spell. The reason this one was Collected might be that it was a ritual. Sophia hoped that wasn’t the problem; she could adapt the ritual a little, but it would never be a flexible spell.

It could be because the welding-spell wasn’t a spell the Guide knew, while hydrokinesis was. Sophia doubted that, because surely there were metal-mages.

It was at least slightly possible that Cliff could only Collect abilities that could harm enemies; the welding spell would have trouble doing that because of how slow it was to heat the metal. At the same time, the only direct-attacking spell in the lot was Spit Fire. It didn’t seem likely.

On second thought, Sophia had to strike time and number of uses off the list of reasons. Cliff had Collected the first three spells from the beavers after seeing them only once. He’d seen Buffet and Slice a lot more than that, yet he hadn’t collected them until now. The reason was at least somewhat obvious, even if it was annoying: he could only collect things when there was a real fight. Maybe it had something to do with Wisps?

Sophia pulled up her Status and was shocked at the result. The fights were simply not that hard yet somehow she’d gained two hundred Wisps! That was definitely enough to do something with, but it also told her that she definitely didn’t understand how they were apportioned. This was simply not that much harder than the Ruins Constrictor Nest.

Sophia shook off her shock. It wasn’t easy; maybe now she could afford some of the other interesting things that were available. She might even be able to afford a second Spell slot, or that secondary spellcasting Species ability. She definitely wasn’t buying another Martial Technique slot right now; Consuming Rage could sit right where it was in Cliff’s Collection. She was definitely never going to use it.

“Cliff? How many Wisps do you have?” She should have asked earlier. She’d asked Dav; why hadn’t she asked Cliff? She didn’t even know how his Hallow progressed.

“I don’t have Wisps,” Cliff answered calmly. He’d clearly had plenty of time to think about his situation. “I will grow as you do. This is a good trade for me; I have no limit on the amount I can Collect. I cannot do anything with it yet, but you can, and I believe I will gain the ability to do more as you gain Levels. I will be happy when that happens.”

Sophia knew she wouldn’t be as calm as Cliff in the same circumstances. She would be pissed to have her ability to act taken from her.

Had Cliff ever really had the ability to act directly? He was a dungeon; Sophia wasn’t certain how much control he’d ever had after he decided what areas and monsters he had. It seemed like it varied, but many dungeons either didn’t or couldn’t control their monsters. Sophia wasn’t sure if there was a reason beyond that or not.

“I’ll try to involve you more,” Sophia promised. “You shouldn’t be left out of decisions.”

“Don’t.” Cliff’s answer shocked Sophia. “You talk and think too much. I want to Collect things. Monsters, spells, whatever I can. I want to build another dungeon, and Collecting things is the place to start. That will always be my choice.”

Sophia gaped at that. It hammered home the point that she and Cliff were different; he didn’t want to deal with making choices and deal with people. Instead, he was happy to hand that off to her and to trust her to choose their direction. “Why do you trust me to make those choices for you?”

“I have Collected six Spells, two Martial Techniques, and five Monsters so far,” Cliff answered as if he was explaining the obvious. “Are you going to stop going to places where I can Collect things?”

Sophia blinked. She hadn’t thought of it that way. “No, but don’t you want a voice in where you go?”

“Why should I? As long as I can Collect things, why does it matter where I am?”

“I would want a say,” was all Sophia could think of to answer Cliff’s question. She knew it was a weak answer. It was still true. “I want to make my own choices.”

“I make the ones that are important to me,” Cliff countered. “You can make the ones I don’t care about.”

“You pay attention to the outside world, don’t you?” Sophia wasn’t certain how much Cliff saw but it had to be some things. “Tell me when something’s important to you.”

“Of course,” Cliff stated as if there was no reason to doubt that that was always the plan. Sophia supposed he was right.