Fork This Life!

Chapter 15: Reminiscence

(POV Ferdinand)

In these past couple of weeks, a lot of strange things have happened. Most of them relating to Gerald.

At the start, he was just a telepathic fork who could see mana, and that was strange enough. But then as things went on, it just got weirder. He became able to attract and repel monsters, became poisonous, able to repair himself, use ki and who knows what else.

But after a while, I had finally resigned myself to the fact that I simply couldn’t use normal logic on him.

So, when his… body, as it were, started distorting and changing shape, I wasn’t that shocked.

…Maybe a little.

In fact, I was more surprised that the dagger he turned into was blunt and slightly misshapen. I suppose even Gerald can’t master new abilities instantly.

Well, it was a more… normal… weapon than a fork, at least. Even if the usability has barely increased.

On another note, I’d levelled up from that combat. Killing things above your level really does wonders. A shame it’s a completely unreliable method.

It’s only because of that freakishly powerful skill Gerald has that he can do it reliably. Honestly, doesn’t that skill have any limitations?

Range seems to be the only real limit it has.

…I wish I had a skill like that…

A short while after the slime died, Gerald told me that the fight is over – actually over, this time.

I still have no clue why I couldn’t see anything happening before, but with any luck, we should be heading back to land now.

I walk over the staircase and started to climb it. The next moment, the ground beneath me tilts, and I trip up the stairs.

Ouch…

This time, I hold onto the railing as I climb the stairs.

When I reach the deck, I am instantly jostled by someone moving past me. Looking around, I saw everyone is doing something, carrying something, fixing something…

Snaking my way through the flurry of activity, I make it to the helm, where Richard usually is when not fishing. Or fighting.

He is tying something to the leg of a bird, which he then throws up into the air.

It flies away.

Noticing me, he says, “Just a messenger bird. Some people need to know about what happened here, and birds fly faster than we sail.”

“What happened? After the beginning of the battle, I couldn’t see anything happening.” I ask.

Richard nods. “One of their mages must have cast a spell to prevent surveillance. There are some magicians who watch the oceans from afar, so only those with similar spells can escape detection.”

He turns his head, and I follow suit, the burning hull of the other ship greeting my eyes.

“As for who they were,” he continues, “They were demons and monsters. Smart ones, not your everyday beasts. We weren’t able to find out what they were after, but I doubt these few will be the end of it.”

Richard looks back at me and claps me on the back. “But you don’t need to bother yourself over that. Once we finish cleaning up the ship again, we’ll be heading back to shore.”

I’m left standing there, more confused than when it all started.

(POV Gerald)

(SKIPPABLE INFO)

Now that we’ve been here for, what, 10 months? I suppose I should have the stats explained, courtesy of the help function.

Name, race, gender, age, level and experience speak for themselves, so I’ll not go into that.

Allegiance is much what it sounds like; it lists all the organisations and factions you consider yourself as being a part of.

Fame is more interesting. Let me just get up the entry for reference… Okay, so for every 100 people who know about you and view you positively, it is increased by one, and for every 100 people who view you negatively, it is decreased by one.

Seems like it isn’t a very reliable way of determining whether someone is good or bad. Say you have this really nice guy, but he pissed off this massive dark organisation, and so they set up an internal bounty for him. Boom, you have -50 fame.

Although… If, in this situation, you didn’t know about it, wouldn’t the sudden negative fame boost be a pretty big indicator to GTFO of there? I take back my negative comment.

Strength represents the amount of force you can exert. Of course, it means nothing to a being like me who has no muscles or other way to exert force.

Still, physical stats like these really bring up some questions in a realistic situation. Say you’re human. Does increasing the strength stat affect appearance? Do you become more buff? And is that number a flat measurement of strength that is equal for every muscle in your body, or more a multiplier of their base strength?

Dexterity is a useful stat for anyone in combat situations, I think. If Strength improves your muscles, dexterity improves your control over them, and your body in general. On top of that, it increases your motion perception and thought speed. Well, even if you have perfect control over your body, there’s no use if your body is weak, so it’s not like DEX is the prime stat or something. Still, I imagine it would be incredibly important for any job that requires precision – craftsmen, snipers, scribes, acrobats, and so on.

Intelligence increases calculation speed, as well as the ability to think outside of common sense and question the norm. It also improves information retention – memory. Not that it affects me.

If intelligence tells you how to build a railgun, wisdom tells you that you didn’t even need a pistol to kill that slime. It reduces superfluous actions and improves decision making ability. Almost like a mental version of dexterity. It also increases your self-control, which is always nice.

Charisma enhances empathy and acting talent, as well as subtly improving your appearance based on your own preferences.

…I’m guessing that this is within reasonable bounds, like, you can’t grow horns or something, but… this is a system after all, who knows if that was included as a feature or not?

Hardness. Simply a number relating to the required force to do a certain amount of damage on an object. Any increases or decreases of this stat, outside of changes in material, do not affect density or appearance.

Durability, a measure of how much damage an object can take before ceasing to function as that object.

And luck. Now this stat - and I quote – “Increases luck.”

Now what the heck’s that supposed to mean?

Ah well. The rest of the stats; mana, psi, ki… well, it’s not hard to guess. Just measures of your maximum capacity of those energies, as well as your current amount. Regen, well, it’s in the name, right?

And a brief recap on other things.

Skills – I don’t know if there’s a rank below uncommon, because I’ve never gotten one. Teehee? From what I can tell, it goes; maybe something below uncommon, uncommon, rare, unique, with each being broken up further into low, mid and high.

Proficiencies go from basic, advanced, expert, master, something above master probably?

Traits – I’m not really sure about these. I’ve got minute, minor, small, average, moderate, large, huge. I think that’s the order, but I could be wrong.

Also, I’ve got a +1 attached to one of them. What’s with that?

(END OF SKIPPABLE INFO)

After all that kerfuffle ended, the ship turned around and started heading back to port.

In the meantine, I amuse myself by familiarising myself with the appearances of the many members of crew.

Walking around, climbing the rigging, sleeping… This doesn’t feel strange at all. Nope, totally normal.

You know, getting mana sight to expert proficiency has had some unexpected effects.

Case and point, that man over there. I can see through his body, to some of his internal organs. Lungs, stomach, a couple others. The hollow ones, I guess. Rather off-putting. Well, I’ll get used to it eventually.

Ignoring that, though, the trip is a peaceful one. I watch people chatting, wishing for the umpteenth time that I can hear what they are saying.

Then I realise: I may not be able to hear what they are saying, but maybe I can see what they are saying.

Time for this fork to learn how to lip-read.

(POV Richard)

The voyage back home is without incident. We must have used up a year’s worth of bad luck in the last few days; if anything more happens, the world’s gone mad.

I see Ferdinand off at the docks, laughing as he stumbles around for a few moments.

After I organise everything on the ship, I step down the gangplank onto the pier.

My strength drains away, thoughts moving slower as if through taffy. An ache pulses dully in my lower back.

It feels as if I have aged ten years in ten seconds.

This… is the worst part of sailing for me, I think. The landing. The loss of vitality, of youthfulness.

This is how I am, on land.

…Old.

And this… is why I go fishing so much. With my Blessing of the seas skill, I can feel young again, at sea.

With a sigh, I step slowly towards my house. It wasn’t always like this…

Cradling my newborn child, I gazed down at him lovingly.

Hearing a hoarse whisper behind me, I crouch down beside my wife, placing him gently in her tired arms.

As she held him, I saw in her eyes a love so deep and pure that my heart could not help but skip a beat.

Still exhausted from the labour, she spoke softly, “He’s a boy… His father should name him.”

I had been thinking of a name for weeks, months even, but her words had still turned my mind into a mess as I frantically tried to remember them.

Harold? No! Richard? That’s a good name… wait, no, that’s mine.

After about a minute of looking like I was carefully thinking, but really being in a panicked frenzy of thought, I finally managed to remember the name.

“How about Rodney?” I said softly.

She mulled it over for a moment, then said, “Rodney… I like it. You know, I half thought you might name him something ridiculous, like Richard Jr.”

“I would never do something like that!” I protested, as a drop of sweat ran down the back of my neck.

For a while, we just sat there in silence, watching the adorably cute sleeping face of our baby boy.

“Father, father you’re back!”

A small figure took a running leap into my arms, laughing as I spun him around in a tight hug.

Setting Rodney down, it took him a moment to recover his breath.

“Father, when will you take me with you on one of your trips?” he asked hopefully, sending a wave of sadness through me.

I had wished I could be home more often, but at that time, pirates were coming out of the woodworks. Smugglers and slave ships seem to have increased recently, as well. Something must be happening…

Discarding my rampant thoughts, I looked at his expectant gaze and smiled.

“When you become strong enough to defend yourself, Rodney. The sea is not a safe place, and you are only eight years old.”

Crestfallen, he looked sadly at his feet.

“But…” I continued, making him perk up adorably, “If you train hard enough, I might be able to arrange something for your tenth birthday.”

His face dropped again. “But father, that’s nearly two years!”

I ran my rough hand through his sand coloured hair and pulled him into another hug.

“Yes, son, it is. But if you train every day, it won’t seem so long. Besides, if we were both gone all the time, your mother would be sad.”

He nodded a bit uncertainly. “Okay father, I’ll try my best!”

“That’s my boy!” I said, setting him back on his feet again. “Now, how about we both go and give your mother a big hug?”

Smiling, he nodded, and we ran off laughing into the house.

I had watched as Rodney fought to the death with a pirate.

No longer a child, he stood only a bit shorter than the rest of us at the age of fifteen, and the muscles on his arms bulged visibly as he swung his spear to parry a slash from the pirate’s cutlass.

Even if I hadn’t been home much throughout his childhood, I could tell from his technique that he hadn’t slacked off on training. Smooth and clean, the movements were instinctive to him, able to execute them flawlessly with barely a thought.

I had felt a surge of pride as I saw him narrowly dodge a cut to his stomach. Truly, he was a better son than I deserved.

…There was one thing holding him back, however.

He had never been in a real fight.

Hence why I arranged that. The pirate was from a small-time crew of twenty, barely worth our time. We left only one alive, and promised him safety if he could defeat my son.

And then, despite the fact that the pirate couldn’t even touch him, Rodney’s counter-attacks were lacklustre, slowing down dramatically as they neared his opponent.

“Just imagine him as a training dummy, Rodney! He’s about as skilled as one, after all!” I encouraged him.

A small smile flitted across his otherwise tense face, and I saw him relax slightly.

Visibly frustrated, the pirate sent a strong thrust towards Rodney. But without a proper stance, such an action can leave you terrible off balance and vulnerable to a counter-attack, if it does not succeed.

And so it did, as Rodney avoided the blow with a swift movement. Simultaneously, he spun his spear, whacking the butt end into the sword hand of the pirate.

With a brief exclamation of pain and shock, the pirate dropped his sword, and in the next moment, the blade of Rodney’s spear gleamed at the pirate’s throat.

I let out a sigh.

So, he couldn’t finish it after all?

Sternly but gently, I said, “Kill him, Rodney.”

“But he’s unarmed, father!” He said, head turning to me.

His grip on the spear relaxed slightly, and the tip lowered a few centimetres.

The pirate’s eyes gleamed.

“An unarmed man who is just about to wrench your spear from your hands and kill you with it, yes.” I admonished.

Startled, he looked back to the pirate, whose hands have stopped inches away from the haft of his spear.

Rodney grimaced. Resolving himself, he gritted his teeth and thrusts forward, eyes closing slightly to prevent himself from seeing it.

It won’t work, you’ll just feel the sensation of the spear piercing his body even more…

The lifeless body of the pirate slumped to the floor at the same time as Rodney drops his spear, staring numbly at his hands.

“Good job Rodney.”

We’d have to correct that habit of closing his eyes at some point, but years of experience with rookies have told me that wasn’t the time.

I was shuffling through the reports in front of me, analysing them for possible deeper meaning as I sat at my desk in our family’s mansion.

My days in the navy hadn’t been without their benefits.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” I said.

The door swung lightly open, and I looked up at my visitor.

Standing there was Rodney. Strangely, he was in plain clothing that day. Usually you wouldn’t see him without his navy colours, but I suppose we had been home for a few weeks.

He looked around, stiffly said, “Sorry, wrong room” and turned around to walk out.

A thought crossed my mind, and I voiced it to Rodney.

“You’re almost twenty-five now, perhaps you should think about starting your own family soon.”

He stopped and briefly turned his head back.

“I’ll keep that in mind” he said, then left as quickly as he came, shutting the door behind him.

How strange.

Shaking my head, I resumed my work.

Judging by the timepiece on my desk, it was about twenty minutes later that I heard the scream.

Naturally, I couldn’t ignore something like that, so I had rushed to the source of the scream. At the time, I didn’t even notice that it was Rodney’s room I had rushed into.

My heart had felt as if it had fallen into the depths of the ocean at that moment. It still feels heavy whenever I remember it.

A maid was frantically trying to stop the flow of blood coming from Rodney’s chest with her hands, as he lay on the bed. Unsuccessfully.

She was in a state of hysteria as I had pushed her aside. Looking back, it must have been the first time the poor girl had witnessed such a brutal death.

I had checked him over myself, and my blood ran cold that day.

Dead.

I hazily remember shouting at the guards to find whoever had done it. My wife’s wail of sadness as she saw what had happened.

We must have sat there for hours hugging each other and sobbing.

The guards never found anything.

And I had seen not a trace of anything that could have been related to his death since then.

Until now.

(POV Gerald)

I’ve mentioned this befork, but I can see a lot more now with my expert mana sight. And now that we’re back in the city, I’m noticing a lot more things.

For starters, not everyone is human.

There are a lot of furred bipedal beings that I’m guessing – bit of a stretch, I know – are beast men and women of some sort.

Some scaled, tailed people with clawed feet, probably lizardmen.

A scarce few elves. Well, I think so. They have the pointy ears and fair features, at least.

Another thing I’m noticing is… I really can see almost everything. And right now, I am once again extremely glad for having no hormones affecting my mental state, if you know what I mean.

Then there’s a few people in chains or cages.

Yeah, slavery is a thing here. Somehow, that makes me a little pissed. Of course, exactly how bad it is for slaves depends entirely on the sorts of laws that may or may not exist to protect them, and the personalities of their masters, but overall it’s just not okay.

And the last thing… Damn, can I see everything. And what I’m seeing is making me legitimately contemplate turning off mana sight.

Men not controlling their desires in the alleyways, theft in the streets, a murder at the docks, a group underground that is currently beating up people…

It’s maddening that they’re just blatantly doing that sort of thing, out in the open.

I mean, yeah, they’re not exactly out in the open, and doing it in secret is arguably worse… But with this sort of thing happening 24/7, I’m going to be angry, all the freaking time!

What’s worse is that I can’t do diddly squat!

The ‘voice in your head’ thing might work in a situation like before, but if a voice just pops up in a guard’s head, saying ‘there’s some criminals in x direction’, they’re just going to think their mind is making random things up!

And it’s not like Ferdinand is strong enough to do it himself… Yet.

So all I can do is ignore it and train this self form manipulation. I was kind of wondering what the level above master is, but that’ll have to wait.

And now, the ‘fork changes into various strange shapes’ show.

Gerald status: Barely changed at all.

Ferdinand: Not changed at all?