Bog Standard Isekai

Expelling all the water from his lungs wasn’t any easier the second time. He didn’t puke because there was nothing in his stomach, but the sensation was the same, as well as a panicked feeling like he was drowning, suffocating, sneezing, and hiccupping all at the same time.

He tried to see what was going on, but couldn’t force his eyes open until the last of the water was coughed out his lungs. He’d be sure to ask Hogg to practice using Unbreathing pills. He never wanted to go through this again.

When he finally stood, breathing wet but normal breaths, he saw that the Blackcliff Watch had arrived. That was no surprise–this was right outside the city. What was a surprise was that they weren’t shouting, giving orders or arresting anyone.

“Give them some space, please. They are friends. We’ll all have time to answer your questions, but you must give us a moment to collect ourselves,” said Sion, and to Brin’s shock, the Watch obeyed. They nodded and took a step away from Hogg and Brin, and busied themselves by surveying the damage and counting the dead monsters everywhere.

The whole area was a wrecked battlefield. Monster corpses littered the ground and floated in the water. Lurilan walked from corpse to corpse, retrieving his arrows. He was completely pristine from head to toe, no sign of dirt and not a drop of sweat.

Brin’s other friends looked wrecked, but gladly all still accounted for. Sion had taken a few new scratches since Brin had seen him last, but looked energetic and somewhat excited. Zilly was covered with wounds and lay on her back, while Myra and Davi looked tired but hadn’t taken injuries that he could see.

“Sion. Why can you give orders to the Blackcliff Watch?” Brin asked.

One of the Watch raised his gauntleted head so fast that it made his helmet clink and he gave Brin a hard stare, but still didn’t say anything.

Sion raised his hands in conciliation. “No one is giving orders! My apologies Captain; my friend has completely failed to understand. I’m only making polite suggestions, that’s all, as an interested party. I have no desire to interfere with this investigation. Not at all! And the Watch has no desire to offend the Wogan Mercantile Group. There’s no reason we can’t all get what we want, is there?”

“Should I have heard of the Wogan Mercantile Group?” Brin asked Davi.

Davi shook his head in disbelief. “Sancta Solia, Brin!”

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” said Sion.

A sob interrupted their conversation. Pio, who’d been staring stunned at the carnage now fell to his hands and knees on the ground, tears streaming from his face.

He wept openly, uninhibited as a child, and Brin stood next to him awkwardly. What could he say? All these dead animals really were his fault.

The guards all turned suddenly, their hands going to their weapons, and Brin turned to see what they were afraid of. Big Ron stood a distance away in the trees, and he’d begun moving forwards. He was much smaller now, pony-sized rather than the giant he’d been before, and he was covered with loose ropes that had been driven into the ground with arrows.

Brin put together that rather than kill him, Lurilan and his friends had tied the giant boar down, restraining him. Then when Pio had reset his Class, the boar had shrunk and now the ropes were so loose he could simply step out of them.

Big Ron walked over to Pio and pressed his snout against his face, sniffing.

Pio laughed. “Ah ha! We are still friends? I have no power to give you strength.”

Big Ron oinked. That seemed to give Pio the power to stand, and he did so, wiping his eyes.

“It is well. [Beast Master] is a stupid Class. It is a sick Class in a sick System. When you really love animals, when you understand them and are good with them, then people will give you the job of killing the animals.”

Pio began to walk away.

The Watch looked at Sion with questions in their eyes as to whether they should go after him and arrest him. Brin was also curious.

Sion lowered his trademark smile for only an instant and said under his breath, “Zerif got what he deserved.”

Brin nodded, and that was that.

He gave one last glance at Pio, using [Inspect] to see what Class the System had given him.

Name Pio Melo Age 34 Level 1 Class Druid (Epic)

Pio was never one to wear a shirt, and now he kicked the boots off his feet. He walked, side by side with his best friend, away into the forest.

That reminded Brin that he still hadn’t checked on his own best friend. He started to dart around, looking frantically, until Davi noticed the worry in his eyes and pointed.

Marksi was sprawled out on a rock, belly distended and fast asleep. The remains of some horrible ocean thing that looked like a cat crossed with a toad and was covered with bright venomous-looking spikes lay beside him. It looked like Marksi had eaten half his body weight of strange monster fish and then passed out. Pretty normal dragon stuff.

The Watch had questions for all of them, and Brin followed Hogg’s lead in answering or evading them, such as the case may be. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in the sand and have a nap, but had to deal with the aftermath.

After a while, the Watch turned more of their questions to the “real” adults, namely Hogg and Lurilan, giving the rest of them a chance to sneak away. Zilly slipped away first, without anyone noticing. Myra politely asked if she could step away, and when the captain impatiently nodded, Brin walked away as well. Sion managed to slip away shortly after that.

Soon, the five of them walked down the shore. After they got past the dead monsters, it was quite scenic, and a beautiful morning.

“I’m glad I decided to see this to the end, though the transportation method left something to be desired. Hanging from the tail end of a giant scorpion. No one will believe me when I tell this tale!” said Sion.

“Why did you decide to come?” Zilly asked. “You’re not really a fighting type Class. You could’ve given that potion to me or Brin and helped just as much.”

Sion nodded. “This is true. You know, when I left home I hoped that I would find an adventure. I took every precaution to ensure a quick and short journey; my parents would accept nothing less, but I still hoped. But then a real adventure dropped straight into my lap. How could I not see it to the end? Even if I did not always know what it was about.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation,” said Brin. He really didn’t want to explain anything. He really didn’t want to. But was that just his Class talking? They deserved to know.

“I think we pieced together most of it,” said Zilly. “First, Hogg told us there was a monster attacking you in your sleep. We figure it was a familiar of another [Witch] from Arcaena who wanted revenge for you killing Siphani. Then we fought that [Witch] with the Wisp familiar. That was the monster's master, right?”

Brin shook his head. “No, that was something else. The monster attacking my dreams used to be a [Witch], but she changed herself too much and lost her Class.”

“Hey, is it true your name used to be Aberthol?” asked Zilly.

“Who told you that?” asked Brin.

“So it is true!” said Zilly.

“I think Aberthol is a very nice name,” said Myra. “Much nicer than Brin.”

Brin shrugged. “It’s not my name, though. Aberthol is dead.”

“Oh, right, I know! I wasn’t saying… It’s a nice name, is all!” Myra said, looking flustered.

Brin decided he could say a bit more, just to fight against the pressure his Class was putting on his personality. “There’s one key detail you guys are missing, though. The monster who used to be a [Witch] also used to be m– Aberthol’s mother.”

That drew a round of gasps, and the crew all stared at him in shock, wide-eyed. Then Zilly narrowed her eyes and slugged Brin in the shoulder. “Oh please! Shut up. She was not.”

The tension released as all four of them burst into laughter.

“You really had me going!” said Sion.

“Unbelievable, Brin. Inappropriate!” said Myra.

“Cheesy storyline straight out of one of Gustaff’s movies,” Zilly said with finality.

Only Davi said nothing.

Brin smiled and shrugged. Some day he’d tell them all the full story. Baby steps.

“What I want to know is what lies in Blackcliff?” asked Sion.

“What do you mean?” asked Brin.

“You faced monsters, bandits, and danger of every sort. You withstood deprivation and stayed steadfast, nothing swaying, all in service to your quest to get to Blackcliff. What I want to know is what’s so important that you would risk anything to get there?”

Brin, Zilly, Myra, and Davi all looked at eachother, waiting for the others to respond.

Davi went first. “Nothing in particular. Another city is another stage. That’s the life of a [Bard].”

A quick [Inspect] told Brin that Davi had misspoken. The big guy wasn’t a [Bard] anymore.

Name Davi Pimental Age 14 Level 35 Class Skald

“Nothing for me. I’ll probably just find another caravan from here,” said Myra.

Zilly answered, “I’m just here because you guys are here.”

“Hogg has some business here, but it’s the first of many,” said Brin.

Sion deflated. “That’s it?”

“I’m sure we’ll be in town for a few weeks at least,” Brin added, trying to reassure him. “And then it’s probably Prinnash for me. I need to tell some people what happened to their father to finish one of my Achievements.”

Davi and Myra traded glances at that. Davi firmed his expression and looked back to Brin. “Right. We’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I can’t go to Prinnash.”

Brin felt his stomach sink a little. Of course he knew that his friends weren’t going to follow him around forever. There would be times where their lives took them in different directions. But did it have to be now?

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because my home is in Hammon’s Bog! Even if I did want to take off for another country, I have to go where Jeffrey goes. I still have a lot to learn.” said Davi.

“We all do,” said Myra as she fiddled with the unbreakable thread that she’d woven back into a bracelet on her wrist. “We’re gaining levels like crazy, but that’s going to stop now that we’re all past thirty. The people that really go the distance are the ones who have a strong foundation. We need teachers, and we need to know all the little things that can’t pick up from simply following your Skills. We need an education, the kind you must have gotten in Arcaena. Weaving is something I can sort of learn by doing, but fate… is not the same.”

Brin couldn’t argue with that. His Class’s utility was going to explode in the next few weeks now that he had [Multithreading], mostly because now he could utilize all the things he learned in his past life.

But what sort of education did [Weavers] get? He tried to think of the thing Aberfa had said way back when. She’d talked about some secret of [Weavers], about why Myra should have [Thread Mastery] instead of [Thread Manipulation]. What was that word again? “Snathain.”

Myra’s head snapped up. “How do you know about that?”

“I just heard the word once.”

“You shouldn’t know about that.”

“What is it? A secret school for [Weavers]?” asked Brin.

“Well if it was, then it would have to be a secret, wouldn’t it?” said Myra.

“I could tag along to Prinnash,” said Zilly.

“Thanks,” said Brin.

“And I would be delighted to act as your guide in my homeland,” said Sion. “Assuming our schedules cooperate. I’ll have to bow to the will of my family, now that I’ve been so brazen about utilizing our name and reputation.”

The young [Merchant] launched into a long explanation of the duties he would be expected to assume now that he was done with his relatively anonymous adventure. Writing reports, counting stock, filing paperwork, attending dinners and parties with nobility, reading inventory lists. Half of it sounded like chores and half of it sounded like humble bragging, and the rest of them teased him and commiserated in equal measure. Brin was relieved that no-one made a huge deal out of the fact that Sion was apparently very rich, but then again, no one had made a big deal out of the fact that Brin was rich, either. He should’ve expected it; these were good Hammon’s Bog people, not dirty, envious city folk.

It was a nice day, and all the more valuable for the fact that moments like this would soon be gone.

Sooner than he would’ve liked, they went their separate directions. Sion went straight to Blackcliff, apparently he had an uncle there, and the rest of them began the slow walk back to the caravan. Hogg declined to provide them with a giant black scorpion to ride on, so it was doubtful that they would even arrive before nightfall. They still needed to go, though. Their things were there, and they still needed to look through Zerif’s wagon. Brin needed to know for sure on whose behalf Zerif had tried to kidnap him.

The walk back was mostly silent. Zilly and Davi looked as tired as he felt. Only Lurilan seemed to have any kind of energy, but he also seemed to prefer silence to chatter. Marksi woke up once in Brin’s arms just to make a happy squeak, pat his still-full belly, and go back to sleep.

With nothing else to do, Brin went back over that last [Memory in Glass]. The mass of shapes, sounds and images that Aberfa had pushed into his mind as she was dying. Just as he thought, it was a long message in fast-forward.

He slowed it down and then let it play in his mind as he walked.

Aberfa stood before him in a blank white room. No particular light source was visible, but she still cast a black shadow on the ground behind her.

“I curse you.”

Brin sniffed in derision. Of course she did. This was just a recording, so she couldn’t see how absolutely not shocked he was that she’d chosen to be petty and mean with her last words.

He paused for a moment to wait for a notification or some sign of Wyrd, but there was none. Even in her last moments, it seemed that Aberfa forgot she wasn’t a [Witch] anymore.

“I am your mother and you slay me. For that, you receive my curse. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always ungrateful. I hope you know… I hope you know that we could’ve had everything. The worst part is the pity. You pity me? You? Disgusting.

“But I am a forgiving woman, so I will bless you as well. Let me give you one last warning. You cannot stop Arcaena. There was a moment when perhaps her plans could’ve been undone, if the right warning had reached the right ears in time. That time was two years ago when I rebelled. Now it’s too late. Your best chance to live a long life is to accept her rule. But I know you won’t do that, so I’ll tell you what you must fear.

“Fear my sister Thesa. She is no great one, but when she learns of what you have done to me, she will hate you.

Fear the [Great Witch] Arnarra, for she succeeded where I failed,

and the [Witch Mage] Sana, for she fears no [Archmage].

Fear the [Dread Witch] Namys, greatest in Arcaena’s court.

Fear Jhaartael the [Mage Hunter Commander], if not for yourself, then for those you love.

Fear Zaff the Wight, first risen of Arcaena.

Fear Tarasynora the Vampire who walks in the sun.

Fear the Nine [Witches] of the gray cavern, who share one eye between them.

Fear Keetes the [Ringleader] and his cadre of [Illusionists].

Fear Maggart the Giant, who was good in life but now is great in death.

Fear Sable the Living Shadow who treads on lower ground.

Above all, fear her. Fear Arcaena. She is mightier than you know.”

With that, Aberfa’s last words were over. Brin obeyed her last wishes, and feared.