Icarus Awakens

The avatar of pain arose. It had vision but did naught with it. Instead, it felt. It felt the world burning around it. It felt the breaks in its form. It bore torment no living creature was meant to sustain. It remembered its name.

Daniel lay sprawled under the trees, the underbrush around him soaked with his blood. His legs had hit the ground first and had paid the price. Bone was visible through one thigh, and the other was bent at an unnatural angle. His long-suffering shirt was drenched in red, mostly from where he had been impaled on a small fallen branch. Mercifully, his head had avoided mortal wounds. That only allowed the world to continue its attempts to shatter his soul through blinding, unbearable pain. It occurred to Daniel as it had before that he should have died long ago. He wished for it. He prayed for it to find him.

Death did not visit Daniel. Eventually, sleep came instead.

…

The predator stalked in the night air. By mortal standards it was a child. Nature played by crueler rules. The beast had been forced closer to the mortal settlements lest it be hunted by others. That had meant lean days, hiding from the packs of hunters far more powerful than itself. It needed to survive to adulthood. Only then would it Grow strong enough to challenge those who had driven it from the wilds of its spawning. When it had Grown stronger still, it could finally feed the hatred within itself for the thing in the center of the valley that had oppressed it by presence alone.

Only, in an instant the hunters had vanished. The oppressive force in the air was gone, yet its presence was still there, like a wound that had stopped bleeding but had yet to heal. It was at least safe to stalk without fear of slaughter, though the beast still shied away from anything stronger than it. Its normal fare had become as oddly scarce as the walking creatures. The absence of the yellow hares and tasty moles it had gorged on left it with a fierce hunger it was no stranger to.

Blood in the air drew its attention as the wind shifted. Yes, faint but an intense scent. A large spill some distance away. The flared nostrils divined the wind and deduced its source almost instantly. What’s more, it didn’t sense anything else nearby. If its prey was dead, it would feast. If it was alive, then it would still feast. Not even the monster could save itself from its own instinct.

…

Elsewhere in an office, a man held his head in his hands. A day had passed since the initial expedition and only one had returned. The woman hadn’t said much about what occurred in the pass, only that anyone who hadn’t made it back was dead. Murdon felt the wound more deeply as the loss of Eido. The team had been assembled with variety and experience in mind. Jonus and Lograve had been two of his strongest allies, each intended to play a vital role in the evacuation. More so, the Arcanist had been a close friend when they’d traveled to the region together in the initial settlement wave. Now, he was dead.

The path out of Thormundz was closed. Whatever had wiped out nine Blessed was a force to be reckoned with and couldn’t be tested with innocents in tow. There was still the problem of the monster spawning growing in strength, and without the pass as an escape route the pressure would crush them all eventually.

Murdon furrowed his brow and knocked the map off the table. That damned Crest. The Octyrrum would never be safe until it was finally pushed back to the darkness, but the cost had never been as painful as it was now.

“Commander,” a confident voice called from the other side of the door, insensitive to his mourning. “Gadriel Cross, I’m with the Felitz survivors. I was told to report to you.”

“Enter.” Murdon watched the human as he walked in. He knew of the man by no fault of his own. Like Bards, those of the Hero class tended to make names for themselves as they went. Their methods varied wildly, but those classes shared more than either would like to admit.

Before the disaster communally named the Upswell, Gadriel had been working his way up through the Hero class the traditional way: quests and monster hunting. Fierce competition for assignments wasn’t uncommon when multiple Heroes were in the same area. “I heard you could use some help. I stand ready to assist.”

“How many?”

“I’m sorry?” Gadriel look put off, expecting more than a terse question to his generous offer.

“How many do you bring with you? What supplies? What classes, and their levels? Do you bring criminals in need of supervision? Any injured or sick that need immediate attention?” Murdon took a deep breath and halted his rapid questions. The man in front of him looked like he’d been firing arrows instead of words. “Can you answer me or are you just here for empty posturing? Well?”

Gadriel recovered after a few seconds. “I see you are busy and under immense pressure. My apologies for interceding on the headwoman’s behalf, she was securing berths for our most vulnerable. I can carry these questions and any other you may have so she is better prepared for her meeting with you.” He spoke with a humble, apologetic tone, mixed in with a particular way of speaking Murdon was familiar with. Not that he had the time nor desire to ask more. What Murdon didn’t know was what kind of Hero Gadriel was, or if the apology was even genuine.

“That will do,” he said evenly, leveraging authority in his voice. “What of you? To come in her place, she must trust you. What level Hero are you?”

Gadriel rallied at the mention of his class, as if it wasn’t obvious. “You’ve heard of me! I expect a man such as yourself would be familiar with most in the region,” he offered, tempering his enthusiasm at being recognized. “Level two, but a potent one. The next step is within my grasp.”

Murdon nodded. His impression of the man did not improve or worsen, merely solidifying into a less nebulous shape. “Our first convoy will be delayed, so we will focus on the defense of the village first. Are you in an established group?”

“Not anymore. They were in Eido.” The man’s buoyant façade crumpled again, this time under its own weight.

“I see.”

“They had always questioned my choices. Extra assignments, less focused advancement. It is black humor my dedication would take me from them when they may have needed me most.”

Murdon sighed internally, reminding himself that he wasn’t the only one who’d lost a friend. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need, Commander. It’s what Heroes do.” In the smile he gave Murdon, Gadriel revealed exactly what kind of man, and what kind of Hero he was.

“That is what they say. As far as your role it is undecided. Many of capability have lost allies and just as many teams need replacements. Those whole enough to function are already leading hunts or being sent to secure the outlying villages to get them moving. When they return, I will have the replacement teams ready to go out while the first groups recover and advance.”

Gadriel didn’t hesitate with his reply. “I’m ready. Send me where you need me.”

“Right now, I need you to go and find that headwoman.” Murdon sat wearily in his office chair, “We will have much to discuss. You can expect deployment at week’s end. Until that time prepare for the work ahead.” He’d expected the conversation to end there.

“If I may have a moment more of your time?” Gadriel asked.

“What is it?” Murdon’s low growl indicated the time was given begrudgingly.

“Did Kob survive? I heard a rumor one of the level fours remained, and the description certainly fit.”

“Yes.” Murdon had no reason to hide the fact. If Gadriel went and told everyone, that should only boost morale. There wasn't much left to say and Gadriel recognized he'd reached the end of his patience. When he was alone once more Murdon fell against the back of his chair and closed his eyes, wishing for time to rest he knew he wouldn't get. After learning of his friend's death it seemed every minor inconvenience added a weight to his mind nothing would take off. Stress shouldn't kill him at his level, but this was a time for exceptional events.

He was only able to sit like that for a minute before there was another knock on the door. Accepting another burden on his soul, Murdon shouted for them to enter.

...

Daniel felt the softness under his arm as he woke half-dazed. Blanket? His eyes were heavy and he made no effort to open them. He’d had nightmares before, death by the closing walls of a trash compactor being among the most frequent. Immense pain always woke him only to fade with the black dream, so what he’d just dreamt wasn’t too out of the ordinary.

His blanket sensed him stirring and licked his face. Daniel’s eyes struggled to open against the light bearing down on him. When his vision cleared, there were giant teeth right in front of his head. He scrambled away and cried out as damaged limbs remembered their injuries. It was all real again as the teeth and the angry eyes glared at him. Daniel’s legs were unsteady, but not as nearly injured as he had deliriously thought before passing out. He was standing, so they weren’t broken. The pain had also improved from torturous to very unpleasant.

The beast slightly smaller than him made to stand on four legs of its own. Claws flared out from its paws, it bared its long fangs, and then started glancing around it. Can it see me? The fur on the back of its neck was raised. It looked anxious, even frightened but still terrifying in its fear. The monster relaxed and padded towards Daniel. His weakened legs wouldn’t have outrun it if he had the will to. It brushed against him, turned around behind him, and nuzzled against his limp hand.

It was basically a cat, Daniel realized. Like a jungle cat, but broader than a leopard. Like a lion, but without a mane or tuft at the end of its long tail. Fangs jutted out from the upper jaw that would have immediately made him think sabretooth tiger if not for the other details, like its fur. It was covered in a spiraling pattern of overlapping blue and white circles of various sizes over the golden fur, covering maybe a third of the area. Its coloration clashed against the green of the trees and grass but might be more suited to blend into rock or open dirt. The fur was soft, where it wasn’t matted with dirt, and just deep enough to make his fingers disappear beneath it.

Something happened when he inspected the creature at his side. Light ringed it, similar to what had happened with the sparkbats, but green instead of red like the normal text of his phone. Words formed above its head from the light.

Young Ringcat – (0) (Charmed)

That didn’t make sense. The ringcat, as the tag named it, was right there. There wasn’t ‘0’ of it, unless that number meant something else. The word after it was a change from last time too, but relieved Daniel. It certainly explained the obvious carnivore’s affection for him. “I should make sure this won’t wear off soon,” he told the ringcat. “You look hungry.”

His phone had survived the journey with him. He’d stashed it and his necklace in a pocket, and then tied the pocket to his leg. That hadn’t proven necessary, but he would have hated to lose either. A notification was waiting for him and he vaguely remembered feeling a vibration as he woke up that had been ignored due to the teeth.

You have accomplished Feat: Invention.

This has unlocked potential for growth. Two Advancement Potential have been awarded. You may assign them with Function: Settings in addition to expending potential through normal methods.

“Feat? You mean like a quest?” His phone vibrated with a notification. “I get it, I’ll check it in the Encyclopedia when I know when this murder cat doesn’t want to eat me. You could just tell me in these alerts instead of making me look for myself.” He balefully tried to direct his thoughts at the hyperlink that was included in the ringcat's tag, but that didn't work either. Sighing, Daniel thumbed through to the index of his Encyclopedia.

Charm (Concept: Effect, Domain: Illusion, Mental, ???)

This effect alters the target’s perceptions and impressions of one or more Concepts, Creatures, or Items. A charmed target will behave friendly toward the source of the effect until it ends, or if the target is threatened by the source of the effect.

“So I guess I just shouldn’t hit the murder cat.” Daniel idly scratched the ringcat’s ear. To his surprise it began purring, even if there was a conflicted rise of the upper lip around the long canines projecting out of the mouth. “How did I charm it?”

You may review your current Abilities, Attributes, and Features in Function: Settings.

The Settings icon on his phone looked the same as the original programming. Its contents were anything but. It opened into a humanoid silhouette with six circles connected to points on the body. They were labeled: ‘Strength, Dexterity, Endurance, Wisdom, Intelligence, Charisma’. Daniel was a little put off that this important information had been hidden by a misleading title, but he was also taken by what these words implied.

“This is like a role-playing game. Except, why is constitution different?” The numbers looked right for most systems. He had 15 in strength and intelligence, a 14 in endurance and wisdom, an 11 in dexterity, and a whopping 8 in charisma. That’s probably fair. Below each score was the number 1, except for charisma which was 0.

“High strength and intelligence? Weird build, but not too out there for an Artificer.” It wasn’t what he’d expected his attributes to be based on his past life either. Sure, he’d begrudgingly hiked with his dad years ago, but Daniel was a long way from frequent exercise. He thought back to when he climbed the tree and maneuvered the lightning wings. “I guess I’ll take it.”

The four corners of the screen had buttons. One obviously returned to the home screen, one was an up arrow flashing green, one had a list icon, and the last was three question marks. Oh come on, those are everywhere! He tapped the fourth button but nothing happened. Got to get someone to look at that. And everything really. He glanced at his body, covered in healing wounds.

Before investigating further, Daniel rested against a tree. The ringcat curled up against him again, keeping close to his side. The warmth of its fur was slightly stifling as the day grew hot, but he didn’t mind the company. The cat’s stomach rumbled and Daniel grimaced empathically. They both needed to find food before one became the other’s meal. “I’ll keep this quick,” he assured the ravenous carnivore that kept following him.

Tapping the flashing green button removed the others and added plus marks to the six attributes. The button itself was replaced by the number four. A greyed-out ‘Confirm?” button sat next to a red ‘Undo’ button at the bottom of the screen. He tapped intelligence, and it increased by one. The confirm button was now green.

“Woah, I can increase my stats by 4?” Daniel was surprised. The systems he was familiar with capped stats at 20, at least for normal people. Gym rat strength aside, Daniel was pretty sure he was the same person he had been before the weird memory thing happened. Either way, he could get one of his attributes to just under that maximum right now. Then he noticed something else. “My strength also went up by one?” The green number in the corner had only decreased by one, so it hadn’t been a misclick.

Daniel spent a minute experimenting. His strength and intelligence seemed tied together. Similarly, as he increased his endurance, he also increased his wisdom, and vice versa. Charisma and dexterity only incremented alone and still cost one point to increase. Daniel exercised self-control and undid all the pending changes. “I still don’t know what’s going on here,” he explained to the ringcat as an apology for staring at his phone for a whole minute while it missed breakfast. “I’m just supposed to hit buttons on my phone and suddenly I’ll get buff? It sounds like this world is trying to sell me microtransactions. First one’s free and all.”

The ringcat yawned. Daniel almost felt foolish for ignoring it. Sure it would probably eat him if whatever effect was keeping it at bay broke, but this should have been amazing. He was sitting against a tree in some far-off forest with an animal companion. He was like a ranger, covered in battle scars and acting like it was nothing. That thought brought the pain back to the forefront of his mind. He scratched the cat’s ears again to distract himself from it. “Ok, at least you’re pretty cool. Just don’t eat me.”

He needed to find people. The city-building kind and not the highway robbery kind. Someone had built the bridge on the second floating island and made the dirt roads he’d seen on the way down. His lack of money did worry him. He’d hoped to find his wallet transmuted into some kind of bag of coins after finding his phone, but nothing resembling currency had appeared so far.

The two other apps on his phone were Music and Maps. Music didn’t seem helpful now, but Maps?

Welcome to Maps.

Your Focus can store acquired maps and display your location on them if appropriate. A local map of the immediate area is generated by this Function when it is first acquired. Additional maps will require discovery or purchase.

“Wait, my powers do have microtransactions?” The map feature looked like the inside of a drawer with green felt lining it. Only one scroll was contained within. The creature at his side nudged him, and he angled the phone so they could both see it. The ringcat probably didn’t get anything from it besides distraction from the light, but any distraction from hunger was good news for Daniel. “Don’t worry boy, I’m looking for food.” He thought for a moment. “Boy, right? I can’t tell and I don’t want to look closer so let’s stick with that.” The ringcat didn’t seem to care.

The map was displayed as if it were made of physical paper. What he immediately noticed was the giant crater in the center. There was no depth to the map, but he could see smaller overlapping circles indicating the flying islands. The crater was named ‘Eido Ruins’. Ruins? There was barely anything left if there was something there. Did that place get nuked? It didn’t seem a good option for food, and Daniel had already been there anyway.

A white shimmering barrier clipped the eastern part of the map. On the side Daniel was on, there was detail. Outside of it, there was nothing. Its label was The Crest. There was a hyperlink on the label, but when the Encyclopedia was brought up there were only question marks. The rest of the map detailed a valley, ringed by a mountain range that connected to the shimmering barrier at the north and south. To the west was a road that led through the mountains.

Daniel found himself as a small blank flag south of the crater. He was about a fifth of the way from it to the mountains, but there was no scale to tell him the exact distance. “Another world. I guess that should have been obvious with the fantasy cat sitting next to me, but this is really happening.” Daniel continued to analyze the map to keep himself busy and made another discovery. House icons on the map were dotted around the crater. The closest was also the first off the road coming from the mountain pass. It was called ‘Hagain Village’.

Daniel stood and the ringcat came to its feet as well. “Got a direction. They’ll hopefully have food. I don’t know if charity is a thing here but here’s hoping.” The creature padded by his side dutifully. “I feel like I should name you. Do you want a name?”

The ringcat answered with an alert expression. They were moving, and vulnerable, and the injured pack member was drawing attention to them. And it was still hungry.

“No? I think that’s a no? Or do you already have a name and don’t want another one?” The expression went unchanged. “Ok, how about one growl for yes and two for no?” It didn’t growl. “I’m talking to a panther-lion with huge fangs like it can understand me and isn’t just magically prevented from mauling me, aren’t I?” he asked in a fit of self-awareness. This did elicit an annoyed growl, but Daniel didn’t count that. He shut up and started walking faster towards civilization, only to stop when he noticed something on the ground.