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Chapter 013 Life Lies
Art is a lie that makes us realize truth, at least the truth that is given us to understand.
-Pablo Picasso, The Arts: An Illustrated Monthly Magazine Covering All Phases of Ancient and Modern Art, NYC, 1923
******
"I'm sorry."
"Pardon?" Neron paused as he was pulling up his pants to look back at Shejou.
She remained sprawled out on the bed, though she was now sitting up and the covers had fallen. As usual, she lacked any sort of shame, yet her expression was one he had only seen the day she'd invited him to share her dorm. Now that he knew her better, he thought it was some combination of wistfulness and curiosity. Maybe melancholy?
"I am sorry," she repeated.
"For what?"
"For not being able to help you."
Unsure what she was talking about, Neron finished tightening his pants and threw on his shirt.
"What do you mean?"
Shejou didn't speak for a long moment as he fastened his belt, double checking that the various pouches were fastened properly.
"People want different things out of life." Shejou sat up properly, leaning against the wall beside the bed to look out the small window in the dorm room.
The evening sun cast an ethereal glow as it cascaded through her dark hair. She usually kept it up, to not interfere in combat, only letting it down when sleeping.
Neron appreciated the sight for a moment before turning to continue gathering his affairs.
"I didn't want to live a lie. Takashi wants a large family. Oro wants to be accepted for who he is. Ibui wants to be anything but normal. Alone, we might accomplish our dreams but together we surpass them."
While it was relatively rare for Shejou to speak of her husbands, Neron knew their names and knew they were very close, despite his own relationship with her. Still, he wondered what they had to do with anything.
"It's a hobby of mine. To help people find their own Way. It's how we met.” She paused and clarified with a little smile. “Except for Takashi. Known him since childhood."
Neron let her talk as he continued to pack away his things. There wasn't a lot, and the dorm was small, so it didn't take much time until he had everything stowed away.
"I've lost count of the people I've tried to help over the decades. Made some great friends. Some lovers. More than a few enemies. I've succeeded and I've failed. But I’ve learned. Most importantly, I’ve learned the key factor. What separates someone who can live their life fully. What separated the successes from the failures was only one thing."
Knowing a prompt when he heard one, Neron dutifully asked. If only to know why the normally bombastic and vivacious woman was acting so sentimental.
"What was it?"
"A desire to change." Shejou stood from the bed and stepped close to Neron, her hand on his chest. "Heaven only helps those who help themselves."
Her hand was warm.
She was short. Even for a woman. Even for an earthling. She was almost a full meter shorter than him at barely one sixty centimeters. She had to look straight up to meet his eyes.
Yet she was the one staring him down.
“I’m going to kiss you. If you valued any of our time together, you will kiss me back with as much passion as you’ve ever felt in your life.”
Neron tilted his head again, but nodded and leaned down.
She kissed him.
There was no love between the two. They were roommates by circumstance and lovers by convenience. They'd had a fun few months and were parting on good terms. The sex was good but that was it. A bit of fun whenever their rest schedules overlapped.
Shejou was unsurprised as she pulled away.
His teachers would be disappointed by the lack of technique and effort but he figured they’d forgive him in this circumstance. Maybe he should visit the brothel again? It had been…fifteen years? That’s right, not since he’d Lost Julia had he felt the need for supplemental practice.
It was the most pathetic kiss he'd given in over twenty years. All his lessons had been ignored as he’d stood there, unmoving.
It must have felt like kissing a still warm corpse.
"I'm sorry I couldn't help you."
"I do not need help."
That was as much as he could give Shejou as thanks for letting him stay for the last few months.
"I am sorry about that most of all."
...
"What took you?" Jorry asked as he slithered up to Neron as he descended from the dorm building. The slight bulge in the snake’s stomach made asking about his success in hunting pointless.
"Just saying goodbye and packing."
"Come on! We're gonna miss it."
******
They didn't miss it.
"Congratulations," Ysold addressed them from her balcony overlooking the training yard. "You stuck through it."
It wasn't a large ceremony or anything. Just the five trainees standing in line while the instructors gave a few words.
"Ours isn't the most prestigious Hall. Certainly not the largest."
Clarence approached Greck, the leading trainee and offered him a rapier. The orc took it with a nod, and the trainer fastened a small pin to his shirt. It was brown with a splash of green in the form of a weed growing from the dirt.
Jorry preened from atop the orc's head as if it was his own accomplishment. Not that the orc had hesitated for a moment in putting the snake back on his favorite perch even with his evolution. Only now it set up looked less like a toupee and now more like a coiling hat.
"None of you are weapon masters or mages. We only gave you the basics and anything more is on you. If you become legends, it has nothing to do with us."
Clarence offered Ingrid a sword and shield. She took them with a nod, and the trainer fastened a pin to her shirt.
Despite Neron out massing her considerably, her superior skill meant that she always beat him in everything but hand to hand.
"Despite that, graduates from our Hall are welcomed anywhere."
Clarence gave Neron a smile as he offered him a staff of reinforced wood with metal caps. He took it with a nod, and the trainer fastened a small pin to his shirt.
"Why? Because we teach the most important skill of them all. Survival."
Clarence offered Fallon two hatchets. He took them with a nod, and the trainer fastened a pin to his shirt. Despite being in more scraps than any of the other trainees except Greck, the young man simply did not possess the discipline or mindset to outclass the upper three.
"It doesn't matter if you're the best fighter if you don't know when to fight. It doesn't matter if you're the smartest mage if you don't know when to run."
Clarence offered Polo a spear and shield. The aspiring merchant took them with a nod, and the trainer fastened a small pin to his shirt. He’d set out to learn the basics of protecting himself and that was what he’d done.
"As graduates of our Hall, what are you going to do?"
"Stay alive, ma’am!"
"Kill them all!"
Jorry's voice went unheard amidst the response from the trainees.
"Damn right. Remember this!”
Neron heard, of course, but he wouldn’t interrupt this little ceremony to interpret the snake for the rest.
“A legend that dies is not a legend at all!” Ysold finished before waiving them all off with a smile. “Dismissed."
With a smattering of applause from Clarence, Badul, Illien, and Ufot, the trainees relaxed.
It was an interesting saying, Neron thought as he fastened his bag to his newly acquired staff and slung it over his shoulder. Legends, almost by definition, were of the dead or those who never lived in the first place.
But that was in the real world, and this was God’s Nature.
While the ceremony was short, he recognized its utility as an effective method of instilling pride in trainees and creating a sense of shared comradery despite being only together for a few hours almost every night for months.
It was just wasted on him due to his plans.
"That's a large pack," Clarence said as he approached. "Going on a trip?"
"Something like that," Neron answered.
"You doing alright?" Clarence asked quietly. "Something happen? You've been off for the last few weeks."
He hadn't been but understood why the trainer would think so.
"Player stuff."
A surefire method to get Natives to let a topic go. While many tried to understand the real world, most of them lacked the contextual knowledge to grasp day to day life and had no interest in it. It was a tactic that Neron wouldn't have used most of the time as it created a mental divide between people and himself, which would inhibit sympathy or friendship development.
Since those didn't matter now, there was no point in not using the most expeditious method to achieve his goal.
"If you say so," Clarence frowned at the man who he thought of as kind and gregarious. "Still, if you need help, you can ask."
"I will do that."
Not that he needed help.
"Then I'll see you around Neron."
"Have a good night."
By the time Neron was finished with that little aside, the other trainees had gathered and were chatting amicably.
"-ulations on getting into Tengen," Polo was saying with no small amount of jealousy as he eyed the emblem on her new jacket. "Any idea where you're going to go?"
"They have their own Hall I'll need to go through, then see if I can form a party," Ingrid's grin was small but satisfied. "If I do well, I can lead a squad on the frontier. I'm aiming for the southeast, along Gibon's Trail."
"They let you pick?" Fallon asked in surprise.
"Tengen is the best when it comes to freedom amongst the top five guilds," Ingrid said with no small amount of pride. "So long as we work together and grow, then we get a lot of leeway. I just need to post my Nature for new beginners, work with others on quests and avoid infamy."
"That’s much better than the Tower," Fallon sighed. "I got an offer but it's way too hierarchical. I'd be starting at the bottom. What about you, Greck? Got any offers?"
"Joining an expedition," the orc nodded laconically.
"Really!? They got room for one more?"
"It's to the north. Eerlang."
"... Well, have fun with that," Fallon said after a moment of pause to see if the man was joking. That got a chuff of amusement out of the large humanoid.
"What is wrong with Eerlang?" Neron asked as he approached.
"Swamp."
"It's a swamp."
"It's a damn swamp."
All three of the trainees answered together, getting a rumbling chuckle from Greck.
"What is wrong with a swamp?" Neron asked, not understanding why it was such an issue.
"Footing is a pain," Ingrid explained. "Unless you're an aquatic therianthrope, you won't be able to fight anywhere near your best."
"The monsters are terrible," Fallon grimaced. "The only thing worse than the huge insects are the tiny ones. Tree dwellers will come at you from above and worse will be hiding in the water and the mud below you."
"There is a profit to be made," Polo hedged with a grimace, playing devil's advocate. "A few villages with intact Sanctuaries have survived since the Woe and it used to be a trade hub. Anything that wanted to get to the ocean from the center of the continent would follow Kharak Toul and go through its estuary. There's a lot buried and lost in the mud. Dungeons. Ruins. Raw materials. But..."
"But you need to get it out of the mud," Fallon completed. "And that ain't easy. Or worth putting up with the bugs, gators, monsters, or locals all trying to eat you."
"It's one of the barriers on the frontier," Ingrid added. "Large expeditions can't go deep. Smaller groups can but tend to get wiped out. One or two have pushed it, but explorers are still mapping it and it's taking a long time because nobody wants to deal with it."
"Calderine is still new territory to players," Polo shrugged. "There are better, easier areas to explore. Near Leidon or along the Westward Path. Less chance of running into a Rogue or getting eaten in your sleep. And you can maintain a supply route."
"Where are you going?" Greck asked suddenly.
"I am still undecided," Neron admitted. "Either west, toward the ocean, or south to the Bone Wall." He'd considered north as well, but their arguments had convinced him not to.
"By yourself?" Ingrid asked dubiously. "Or do you have a party."
"I have Jorry," Neron answered, holding out an arm toward Greck.
With great reluctance, the orc reached up, took the snake from its place atop his head and passed it down gently, so the serpent wrapped its coils around Neron's arms.
"Farewell my noble steed," the rat snake said pompously. "You have served your master well. I release you from your service. Go! You are free!"
Greck, not hearing the serpent's words, simply pet Jorry on his head with a finger as thick as the snake.
"Are you sure that is wise?" Polo asked. "The west and south are relatively safe, but what about guard rotation? Or supplies? What if you get into a fight?"
"Yeah," Fallon agreed. "Even I'm sticking with this guy and a caravan. At least till I set up my own party."
It was an accepted truism that people who traveled by themselves were simply asking to die.
It might be different in the vicinity of the cities, with regular patrols and culling efforts, but out in the wild you needed to be on guard against Rogue monsters, brigands, the elements, and all sorts of other dangers. Even if one found a dungeon or hunting ground that was suitable for your level, you wouldn't be able to exploit it without help or infrastructure. God’s Nature was not so kind as to send monsters or beasts at you one by one, nor would they take turns attacking.
"I will be staying near roads and settlements," Neron explained simply. "I will be as safe as possible."
It was clear that none of them were comfortable with the idea yet didn't know if they should attempt to convince him otherwise. He could visibly see the moment they each decided that it wasn't worth it. At worst, he'd die a few times before learning his lesson.
Something roiled in his guts.
"Take care," Greck finally said, removing his finger from Jorry's head.
"It is not we who should fear the wild," Jorry proclaimed dramatically. "It is the wild that shall fear the dragon!"
"He says he will be," Neron 'translated’ getting a nod from Greck.
Everyone exchanged a few more words of farewell, and they invited Neron out to join them for drinks, but he demurred citing a need to meet up with his sisters.
Yet his night wasn't over yet.
"Yer gonna be a terrible adventurer, brat," Furu spat to the side from where he was leaning against the gate connecting the training yard to the street beyond, a thick bundle of cloth thrown over his shoulder.
Neron didn't say anything, well used to the curmudgeonly old man. Best let him get whatever he wanted to say out of the way first.
Unlike usual, the old adventurer did not seem to appreciate his silence as his frown deepened into a full scowl.
"I know yer type," the old man grunted, pushing himself off the wall with effort. "This life needs all sorts. The crafty ones. The sly ones. Tricky. Even treacherous.” He was grudging and certainly not pleased as he mentioned the last. “Ain't no adventurer who ain't got a few skeletons in their closet. But there ain't no place for yer type."
Neron was admittedly somewhat surprised. He'd maintained an amicable accord with the old man, learning more than a few tricks from him and received no small amount of guidance on adventuring. Furu would, on rare occasions, even share tales of his own adventurers.
What had changed?
"My type?" Neron asked, not letting his surprise show, but letting the confusion flow through.
"Empty."
Neron's brow furrowed further.
"Can ya even see it?" Furu demanded. "Why yer the worst type of liability?"
"Oi! Old man! You want a go!?"
"I do not understand," Neron admitted, ignoring Jorry's words with practiced ease. "I do not believe I have failed to learn anything that this Hall has attempted to teach me. I still have much to learn, certainly, but I am not a liability."
"...Ya ain't even mad, are ya?"
"About what?"
"Never mind, brat." Furu seemed to sag, back slouching further as if he aged a few more years at Neron's response. "Just tell me this: What's the most important thing for adventurers to have?"
Neron gave the answer some thought. If nothing else, like Shejou, Furu had been sincere in his helpfulness… If in a very different manner. It cost Neron nothing to return that same sincerity now.
The goal of the training hall, originally established by Furu himself, was to teach survival skills. He could answer that, but it seemed too simple. Depending on which instructor he was talking to, he might have given different answers.
With Clarence, he'd have answered something about teamwork. To Badul, he'd have answered with caution. Illien had waxed poetic about how everyone needed a good pair of boots. Ufot wouldn't leave her room without a reliable weapon. Even if only choosing from Furu's lessons, backhanded as they were, there was much to choose from.
Yet the mere act of thinking of the answer wilted the old man further.
"Don't bother," Furu sighed. "That yer thinking about it at all is answer enough."
So, it had been a question to answer with the first thing that came to mind, rather than a specific answer. How annoying.
"Here." Furu threw his bundle at Neron with an ease that belied his aging body.
It wasn't that heavy, but the cloth was densely rolled and well-treated.
The old adventurer did not remain to watch him unroll the thick traveling cloak, walking past Neron to return to the hall.
Then he paused, not looking back.
"I'll give ya one last chance, brat. What does every adventurer need?"
Neron answered immediately.
"I do not know."
There was no shame in admitting ignorance and it was better than answering randomly and hoping for the best.
"It's real easy. Easiest answer there is."
"I do not know."
"If ya leave here without it, ya won't be an adventurer at all. You'll just be an empty wanderer. So, what is it?"
"I do not know."
"... An adventurer's spirit."
Furu walked away, his back hunched.
"... I don't get it," Jorry said after a moment. "Of course, an adventurer has an adventurer's Spirit. How else would you cast spells?"
"I get it." Neron's answer to Jorry wasn't loud. Nor was it quiet.
If Furu heard, he did not show a sign.
"Don't worry about what that guy said. 'One last chance,'" Jorry imitated the old man poorly. "Ha. Can't even count. Gone senile."
Neron didn't correct him, instead exiting the training yard.
And running into the second surprise of the night.
Or third, if he counted Shejou’s little apology.
"…Hey," Optim greeted with a nervous smile and a shy wave.
"Optim? What are you doing here? What about the store?" Because it was just the farewell ceremony tonight, they'd finished up early. It was barely past five and Optim usually kept the shop open till seven or eight, depending on the day of the week.
"Ah, um, Therin is watching it for me." The single mother stuttered slightly, not meeting his eyes. "I just, um, I heard you were leaving."
"You did?" Neron asked, wondering who would have told her. He hadn't exactly advertised it. It was a whim, more than anything, that had taken hold since his death in the bookshop. "I was planning on seeing you before-"
"No. You weren't."
It was the shock of the interruption more than the actual words that stopped Neron in his tracks.
"You were going to leave without saying a word.” Optim’s voice was more forceful than anything he’d heard from her before. “Just going to-to disappear! Not even a goodbye!"
Neron didn't say anything, even as eyes on the street turned toward them.
"Just like him." Whatever force had animated the therianthrope seemed to leave her with that last statement as she wilted, tail drooping and eyes once more downcast.
"...Apologies."
What else was Neron supposed to say? Or do? Should he leave? This conversation wouldn't likely be productive for either of them.
"... You haven't smiled in weeks," Optim mumbled, still looking down. "I liked your smiles. They were warm. Kind. …Even if they were lies."
Void, he'd certainly slipped, hadn't he? Shejou he could understand, as she'd seen him in a variety of situations and the woman could be incredibly intuitive. Even Furu he could get, as the old man was very willy.
But Optim? He must have been really out of it. No great loss, but still, something to be aware of going forward.
The last time something like this had happened was… twenty… three? Years ago. Right, with that whole Alanon and Chotla fiasco. Since then, he’d forgotten what letting a facade slip for extended periods of time could lead to.
"Why didn't you take advantage of me?"
"Pardon?" Neron asked, unsure what she was getting at.
"I knew you, um, you looked," Optim stuttered, face going red but forcing herself to continue, peeking her eyes up to meet his gaze. "I wouldn't have said no. I wanted it. It could have been... nice."
"There was no point," Neron answered simply. There was also no point deceiving her now.
"No point?"
"Barring some momentary pleasure, what would we have gotten out of it?" Neron asked rhetorically. "And when it ended? Would we have been happier than before?"
"...What if it didn't have to end?"
"It does."
"Why?" Optim asked, looking up once more, tail swishing in agitation. There were tears in her eyes, yet she wasn’t crying. "Because you're a Player? Because you don't love me?"
"Because I can not give you what you want."
"You don't know what I want. You don't get to say what I want!"
"Then what do you want Optim?" Neron was always willing to be proven wrong. He had been wrong in the past and would be in the future. But was he wrong now?
"I want you to lie to me!" The tears were flowing now. "Lie to me! Tell me you love me! That you can love me!"
"I can do that." Neron stepped forward, close enough that they were almost touching, and looked down at the small crying woman in front of him.
He softened his eyes, as if looking at the most precious thing in the world. He did not smile, for that would ruin the effect. Instead, he slackened his cheeks and mouth, willing them to loosen and assume their most natural state.
Taking Optim in his arms gently, Neron whispered his sweetest, kindest, and most cruel lie.
"I love you."
Optim looked up at him, tears flowing, as she searched his face for something.
"I believe you." She smiled as she cried. "I believe you and I asked for it and I know it’s a lie and it hurts and I hate you and I am happy and I want it to be true and I want you to stay and I want you to leave and never come back."
Optim cried and laughed as she babbled, almost hysterical, as Neron held her.
Then she pushed him away. Neron couldn't have resisted even if he wanted to.
Optim might not have a combat Job, but she was still a Native who spent the better part of four decades in Gods' Nature and every Native invested their first batch of stats into Body for their health benefit. Though she looked weak and small, Optim's body was dense and strong enough that she overpowered him easily.
"You know," she said, still smiling as she wiped tears from her eyes. "I think that was the only lie you told that actually hurt."
"You asked for it," Neron reminded her, not unkindly. "And I try to avoid lying when possible. It creates... issues."
"No, you don't lie, do you? You just hint, and tease, and promise without words and let gullible fools believe what they want."
"We all do that," Neron pointed out now that she seemed more secure. "We lie with smiles we do not feel and words we do not mean, even if neither is truly false. I am no different than a salesman welcoming a customer warmly, even as his business crumbles."
"You sell happiness and warmth as if they were a false coin to barter with."
"I would not call it false. Happiness is happiness, no matter the origin."
"Yet it is transient. Fleeting."
"All things are."
"...I would have let you read for free, you know. You're not the first broke Player to want to learn about Delaash."
"I know. I asked around before approaching you."
"Then why do... everything? Help me? Help my son?"
"Because 'Optim' is more valuable than 'The Optimal Book.'"
At the end of the day, knowledge was useful, and it was always better to have more than less, but knowledge by itself was something static. Unchanging. Once a word was written down, it wouldn't change. It could be erased, destroyed, or lost. It could and would be interpreted in a million different ways. But it was people that gave words meaning. Intent.
An author might have meant something completely different than what the reader understood, yet the words were the same.
Neron had gained a lot of knowledge from the bookstore. Most of it was probably even true, and if not, it at least gave him a grounding in this world that he'd lacked before.
But it was his connection to Optim, and through her, the rest of the city that he'd gained real value. It was Medea's explanations that put everything in context and answered his questions. It was the instructors in the Hall that showed him how to survive in this world. It was his sisters who directed him to the Hall and provided him with what he needed to help Jorry. It was with Jorry that he made a living and gained his Skill.
Knowledge. Money. Power.
They were all great. They were all needed.
Yet without people, there simply wasn't a point in any of them.
"You truly mean that," Optim asked, looking into his eyes. "Don't you?"
"I try to avoid lying," Neron reminded her.
"Then, um, thanks. For the compliment and for all the help." Optim said softly, her usual hesitant manner returning as she stepped back.
"You are welcome." It hadn't been a compliment but a statement of fact, however Neron wouldn't disillusion her.
"I think... I think I needed this."
"This?"
"This conversation. If you left without a word and we never talked, I think I'd have always wondered. What was real and what could have been. I think I'd have hated myself even more."
"Glad I could help."
"No, you're not. You're not glad about anything, are you?"
Neron didn't answer. He tried to avoid lying, after all.
"So, um, thank you Neron. Thank you for all your help and for your lies. Thank you for not taking me up on my advances. Thank you for a few months of happiness."
"You are welcome."
"Now I never want to see you again."
"Alright."
"... You're a real monster, aren't you?"
"Not really, though I have been called worse. It simply depends on what you value in a person. Our values are different, so you consider me monstrous."
"Then what would make a person a monster to you?"
"Nothing. Assigning a person a value beyond personal preference is foolish. People are nothing more or less than people."
"...Your world lacks any means of personal power such as levels, skills, or magic, correct?"
"Correct, for the most part," Neron answered, wondering what Optim was getting at with that non sequitur.
"Return to it and never come back to this world."
"Why?" Had he underestimated her grudge? No great loss if so, given his plans to leave God’s Nature in a few years anyway, but if Optim went out of her way to make his time here difficult she had methods.
"Because this world is too weak for a monster like you."
Well, that was just absurd. He'd definitely undersold her grudge and with Optim's connections she could have made his life annoying. If he planned to stay in Calderine in the first place.
"I will eventually." Neron chose a neutral reply, once again not lying.
"Good," Optim let out a breath of relief. "Then, um, this is goodbye."
"It is. I hope things work out for you, Optim."
"No, you don't, but it's kind of you to lie, even if it's just for pleasantry's sake." Despite their farewells, Optim remained in place. She shuffled in place, looking away and fidgeting with her fingers. "Listen, um, I've been meaning to say this for, uh, forever, really. And this is my last chance so... here goes."
Optim took a deep breath, looked him in the eye, and blurted out her next words.
"The way you talk is kinda, really annoying. Okaygottagobye!"
The lizard therianthrope dashed off in not quite a run but faster than a walk, her head down and tail stiff in embarrassment, leaving Neron blinking after her in surprise.
"How rude," Neron muttered under his breath.
"You alright?"
"Pardon?" Neron asked Jorry. "Why would I not be?"
"Because of the old man and Optim?"
"What about them?"
"...Nothing." Despite saying so, it was clear Jorry was uncomfortable.
Understandable, he'd been mostly exposed to Neron's ability to sway people successfully. This was his first time seeing the 'failures' and their consequences. One day he'd learn that no matter what people said or did to you, people were still people. They'd hate you as easily as they'd love you. They had the capacity to be as insightful as they were naive, as intelligent as they were idiotic.
People were as varied as stars in the sky.
Neron was not the smartest, most convincing, or most skilled person in the world. He was simply someone who’d learned a lot about people in his short life and would keep doing so until the day he died.
Case in point, a few days of slightly anomalous behavior could be excused around those he’d already had a solid foundation with, but long-term exposure over weeks would reset it as the new ‘baseline’ personality people associated with him, which would in turn let the reframe earlier interactions.
Pretty obvious, now that Neron thought of it, but it wasn’t something he’d ever let happen so completely, as he always made certain to maintain proper behavioral patterns before.
"Can you promise me something?"
"Depends," Neron said, starting to make his way towards where he was supposed to meet his sisters and Medea.
"Don't lie to me."
Neron stumbled slightly but recovered with barely a hiccup.
"Sure. I promise."
"Great!" Jorry perked right up. "Now put on that cloak. It's freaking cold."
"Alright," Neron said, unrolling the cloak.
Like he noted earlier, the cloth was thick, well treated to ward off the elements, and it even had a hood. The color, a subdued brown, also wouldn't stand out too much.
"Also, what did Optim mean when she said the way you talk is annoying?"
"Who knows. It might be a translation issue. Their language is different from mine, but it is automatically translated. Sometimes nuances, cultural references, or particulars do not match one to one."
"Doesn't sound weird to me."
"... Thanks, Jorry."
"Any time Partner."
******
"You sure you don't want to wait for morning?" Claudia asked as she fretted over her brother.
-Worried about him.
-Feels guilty for his death.
-Blames herself.
-Blames Octavia.
"There is no point," Neron answered, giving her a half shrug. His cloak shifted and he subtly repositioned his bag. "I woke up a few hours ago and it is better to use the daylight once I am out of Calderine's region of control."
-Is not used to the cloak.
-New. Well made. Designed for long, rough travel.
-A gift.
-A gift from Furu.
"Have you decided where you're going to go?" Octavia asked, not overtly worried but it was there if you knew where to look.
-Worried about him.
-Feels guilty for his death.
-Blames herself.
-Blames Claudia.
"South. To the Bone Wall."
-Interested in seeing something impossible in real life.
-Not in a rush. Will go slow.
-Looking for other creatures to recruit with his skill.
-Destination is tangential.
-Killing time.
-Always killing time.
Neron's eyes focused on Jorry for a heartbeat after answering as the snake bobbed its head from beneath the cloak.
-Saying something we can't hear.
-Saying something about the destination.
-Excited to leave.
-Never left the city.
-Note: Left the city during the ratman dungeon raid.
-Jorry will claim it doesn't count.
"Alright. Send us a message if you need anything. We have Banks set up in every major town and can have something delivered in just a few days."
"Will do."
-Will not ask for anything.
-Doesn't see the point.
-Believes he can survive by himself.
-Doesn't care if he dies.
"You have everything?" Medea finally asked. If he was going to be stubborn, then she was going to at least make sure he didn't die because he forgot something basic.
"Everything I need," Neron nodded, shaking his pack slightly.
Medea rolled her eyes over it, cataloging what she could see and intuiting what she couldn't by shape and size.
-Bedroll, extra blanket, supplies for shelter, extra clothes, extra waterskins, assortment of tools, food rations to last a week.
-The bare minimum for travel.
-Learned the seven basic spells.
-South of Calderine is hills, the heath, and forests till the Bone Wall.
-Can survive for months if careful and successful in hunts.
-Prey is easy to find thanks to Jorry and Jacobson organ.
-Jacobson organ not fully integrated.
-City overstimulates the Jacobson organ.
-Tertiary goal of trip is to leave the city to simplify training of Jacobson organ.
"Don't underestimate winter," Octavia cautioned, reaching into her own bag and pulling out a folded piece of leather. "That cloak will help, but you want something that will actually block the cold. I made this for you."
Neron looked surprised but nodded gratefully as he set down his pack to take the gift, unfolding it to reveal a jacket of thick padded leather. It didn't look particularly special, but Medea just needed a glance to tell her it's true worth.
-Made from Terrorol leather.
-Enchantments hidden in the stitching.
-Self-cleaning. Self-repair. Durability enchantments. Reinforcement. Minor temperature control.
-Useful from level 1 to upper 100s.
-Estimated value: 13000 gold in Calderine. 22500 gold in Leidon.
"Everything I read and heard was that winters here are mild," Neron said as he donned the jacket. It fit perfectly, of course, and he fastened its clasps to close the front.
"In comparison to anywhere north and east? And to the dark seasons? Yes, they are mild," Medea agreed. "But only in comparison. But remember that everyone has at least thirty in their Body and they still bundle up. If you don't pay attention, then you'll still freeze to death."
"There's one more thing," Claudia added, looking at her twin.
Octavia worried her lip a bit, but nodded, reaching into her pouch and withdrawing a... belt? Bandage?
Medea frowned as she looked over the strip of white leather.
-Leather of an unknown creature.
-Enchantments are unique.
-Resembles spacial expansion.
-Resembles temporal suspension.
-Other enchanted forms are unknown.
"What is it?" Neron asked, taking the strip of cloth in hand. "A belt?"
"My most recent Creation," Octavia said gravely. "Place both ends together."
Neron did so, forming a hoop out of the white material. Nothing seemed to happen.
Then Octavia threw a gold coin through the hoop. No sooner had it crossed the strip of leather did the coin vanish. No flashing light. No sound. Just gone.
Medea hiccupped.
-Sixth Step Creation.
-One way transportation.
-Limited to non-living material.
-Set destination.
-Estimated value: Incalculable.
God’s Nature had been open for about eight years, in game time, and monumental things had been accomplished in that time. From establishing the Westward Path to Calderine's discovery and a whole host of other accomplishments.
But it was slow going, mostly built on foundations already laid by the Natives.
The most optimistic numbers Medea had heard, which she believed to be factually incorrect but representative, believed that players had already explored one percent of one percent of the total landmass of Delaash.
God’s Nature was a crap game. From so many standpoints, it was designed in such a way that it provided no help to anyone besides a basic system of rules. Many new players tried it only to give up and refund their pods due to a combination of factors.
One of the main complaints was the inventory problem.
You want to wear armor? Then you better be willing to carry it around wherever you go and take the time to don it.
You wanted food? You need to carry it or find it.
You want to kill a dragon? How are you going to get its body and hoard back to civilization without being robbed or killed?
Are you filthy rich? Have fun lugging around sacks of heavy metal coins.
And all that wasn’t even the worst part.
One could be the richest person in the world, wearing the best armor and using the best weapon. One death would lose you all that.
That was the entire reason the Bank was founded, to help people store items and money and retrieve items lost upon death. An extension of existing Native businesses that catered to the needs and expectations of Players.
In the cities or towns, right beside the sanctuaries, death was cheap. In the wild? One death could set you back months or years. Octavia had just solved the inventory problem.
And Neron had no earthly clue.
"What does it do?" Neron asked curiously, as if he was holding a trinket and not the key to unlocking the whole game.
"Anything you pass through the hoop gets sent to a vault in my city. This one is attuned to one connected to my own personal vault."
Looking a bit more impressed than before, but nowhere near as much as he should have in Medea's opinion, Neron continued to ask questions about its use and functionality.
-The unknown leather is the key.
-Unique monster product.
-Reason why the Banker chose the location of her city is proximity to its source.
-There is a dungeon of these monsters in or near Urugalkin.
-This product requires an expert enchanter.
-This product can be produced in large quantities but not en-mass.
"Basically, don't try and send anything alive through it and anything you do send through you won't have access to until you come to our city," Claudia summarized. "So, if you find something you want, but don't want to carry, just throw it in."
"I see."
No, you don't, you big lug!
Medea refrained from throttling her friend at his blase attitude. If she'd had this, she wouldn't have lost her favorite robe! Or that repository in Tuil! Or that hidden library!
Gah! It was so frustrating. So many of her quests and goals revolved around finding lost knowledge and if she had one of these, she'd have been able to stow things away for perusal, rather than leave them behind because she couldn't carry them. All those books she could have read! Or those tablets! Or, or, or.
Medea took a deep breath, forcing herself to let go of what could have been. She should count herself lucky that she even knew this product existed, and that she had a pipeline to get one for herself once more were made.
Jorry, who had made himself comfortable under Neron's new jacket, said something again and Neron nodded.
"I appreciate it," he told Octavia, wrapping the loop around his arm tightly for ease of carry.
"Just be careful. Don't let anyone know what it does or that you have it. You'll become a target."
"Yeah," Claudia nodded emphatically. "If you die and can't get it back, send us a message and we'll send a team to retrieve it."
"I will be careful."
With all gifts given and all warnings received, it was time for Neron to leave.
There were no long goodbyes or tearful farewells. They would be seeing each other in a few hours outside the game anyway. With a simple wave, Neron hoisted his pack and set off.
And stopped immediately.
"Oh."
"What?" Claudia asked, worried something was wrong.
"Nothing, really. I just finished Medea's quest."
It took a moment for Medea to remember what he was talking about.
Just because she had high Knowledge did not make her memory supernatural. Thankfully it did give her insight based on what she did know. And she knew her friend very well.
-Neron Kaisar did something he'd never considered.
-Neron Kaisar values people.
-Neron Kaisar holds people forever.
-Augustus Marinus will never throw away an established network.
-Neron Kaisar threw away a network he'd built.
-Neron Kaisar only did this because it is a game.
"Congratulations?" Claudia half asked, looking from her brother to her former teacher in suspicion.
"I just asked him to try three new things before I left the city," Medea explained and that suspicion left in favor of a faint look of begrudging approval.
Any sort of victorious feeling was washed away when the Curse of the Witch reared its head once more.
-Neron Kaisar did it because he saw no point.
-Neron Kaisar is unsatisfied by God’s Nature.
-Neron Kaisar is unsatisfied by his death and 'revenge.'
-Neron Kaisar is empty.
-Estimated time before Neron Kaisar is Lost: 13-20 years
Once more, Knowledge she did not want and could not prove filled her head and Medea bit her tongue.
The worst part, the absolute worst part? Medea did not know how accurate all this was.
She’d fed everything about the Lost, their symptoms, possible cures, and more to God’s Nature. It hadn’t been her original intention for her character, but as her Knowledge increased she’d had the idea of applying it to matters outside the game.
Yet the Curse of the Witch always provided information she both needed and wanted without any guarantee it was correct. Was she truly able to predict matters outside the game? Or was that a simple delusion of someone who invested too much in a fictional world?
"Since you beat that one, how about this," Octavia offered. "In return for the jacket and the Lees Lens you try and do, let’s say, ten more new things. And we'll set the time limit to when we see each other again in God’s Nature."
"Sure," Neron answered easily.
-Neron Kaisar does not care.
Once more, Medea could only question if her Knowledge was accurate.
Once more, Neron set off toward the southern gate.
"Is he going to be alright?" Claudia worriedly asked Medea.
The teacher did not answer, just watching him from the park on the hill.
"We'll keep an eye on him," Octavia sighed, turning to leave. “But for now we’ll have to trust that he will be.”
They'd done what they could, and it would be up to Neron to find his own answers at this point. He had his life to live and they had theirs. Drastic action could be taken, and would be if they thought it was necessary, but for now their best bet was to wait and hope.
He was three blocks away, and Medea was turning to head back to the academy where she stayed when she saw him pause. Neron tilted his head up toward the dark sky and held out his hand.
Medea didn't need her Knowledge to know why he'd done so as a snowflake drifted down in front of her, melting as soon as it touched the ground.
It was the first time Gus had ever seen snow fall.
Neron only paused for a moment to watch, then he was off once more, disappearing into the night.
******
Kaiser was not always Kaiser.
A long time ago, in a world far away, Kaiser was but a man.
Before that, he was but a boy.
Before that he was not.
Was Kaiser born with the boy?
Was Kaiser born in the man?
Was Kaiser born in this world?
Nay, Kaiser was born in death.
For, you see, Kaiser was not Kaiser until he died.
Death, that first death, stole something precious from the man.
Something ugly.
Something fake.
Something human.
Thus, the not-yet-Kaiser emerged from death's embrace changed. Reverted. True.
Barely having taken his first Step, the man-who-would-be-Kaiser looked upon civilization with its people and its lies and its veneer and knew it to be false.
False in its promises.
False in its joys.
False in its challenges.
Kaiser was not always Kaiser.
The Beast was once a man.
Kaiser was born when a Beast, birthed by death and bearing a dragon upon his back, crossed the threshold of civilization into the Wild.
