I woke up the next day to the sound of my mother and father arguing again over me leaving in the other room. I decided to sneak out and head to see Uncle Chris to avoid getting caught up in my mother’s wrath.
When I knocked on his door, I waited for an answer that didn’t come. He should be home right now, I wondered what he’s up to. I turned around to leave, but instead met Uncle Chris’ face inches away from mine. This crafty old man…
He gave me an exaggerated and proud smile and said “I came out the back and snuck up behind you when I heard you knock. Come on in” He told me, going on ahead of me.
I walked in and looked around, it’d been a while since I’d been in Uncle Chris’ house, he’d usually come to our house since it was bigger. Shields and weapons lined the walls, all of them obviously had seen their fair share of the battlefield, mementos from his Diver days I guess. It was a small house with a kitchen, bedroom, and main room, all just big enough for the small old man to move around in, while forcing me to bend at awkward angles under doorways.
“So, what brings you here this early?” He asked, likely already knowing what I want.
“Tell me about the Deep.”
“Figures, you shouldn't be going in blind, I’m sure you know, but this planet lives, and you could say it’s sick, and so every beat of its heart pushes corruption to the surface, infecting animals, making them stronger, gargs.”
“Right.” I nodded.
“Gargs range from small corrupted bunnies, mostly harmless even after corruption, to natural disasters like corrupted Fire Dragons, that can make whole armies topple with a single attack, but of course you won’t likely see a corrupted Fire Dragon in your lifetime.”
As far as I knew, there were only a few confirmed confrontations between a corrupted Fire Dragon and humans in history, while Fire Dragons were not particularly rare themselves, having corruption strong enough to take over a Fire Dragon was. Other species of weaker dragon sometimes got corrupted though, the more magic a being possessed, the stronger the corruption needed to be to take it over. Corruption of that strength might just end the world.
“That sword channels your magic into the ore to give you greater attack strength against the gargs, corruption and magic being inherent opposites and all. Meaning that blade is your best friend out there.” He said, pointing to the sword on my back. “Magic can almost be seen as a purifying force, there are even rumors that master mages of the olden times could cure an animal's corruption and bring it back to life, but even if that’s true, nobody like that lives today.”
“How would you find the corruption normally?” I wondered out loud, Steven gave me this compass that's supposed to point to corruption in the earth, but it was obviously a new invention, how would you fare without it?
“Well eyewitness reports are really the only way, sometimes a skilled mage like your mother can get an idea where they may be.”
Damn you Steven, I thought, you freaking genius, creating something revolutionary like this and just casually letting me have it for free.
I took out the compass and presented it to Uncle Chris while explaining what it’s supposed to do.
“I’ll be damned, if this device works as it said it does, this’ll make diving significantly easier, even with the advanced information networks setup now, this would be a big help” Of course it was as useful as I thought it was, Steven was a genius after all.
“Your amazing friend aside, fighting the gargs isn't going to be like the one on one battle with me, there’s a reason they call it the Deep, it’s a sea of corrupted monsters out there, you may be fighting up to ten or fifteen Gargs at the same time, being able to deal with their overwhelming numbers is a skill good Divers possess, and dead ones didn’t.” He told me.
If I could beat the one and only Christopher Olbeck in battle, some gargs would be no issue, it’s not like Mom and her party had anyone die in it either, it was always my parents, Uncle Chris, and that Yvone I’ve heard so little about. If there was a story of death from my father, it was about a fool, or a weakling, or both, and I was neither. Well, Uncle Chris may argue against that fool part.
“Fighting alone is a death sentence,” the Old Man continued, “find some companions whose power and character you trust, and brave the Deep with them together. I went through many parties before I found your parents and Yvone, the strongest and truest bunch I ever met.”
“Are we going to find someone else to go with us on our dives too?” I asked.
“Nay, for your first venture into the Deep it will be just me and you, I won't let you travel to somewhere with corruption stronger than you can handle, and if you somehow end up in a pickle, I’ll bail you out. If I deem you worthy to venture as a Diver without me, I’ll help you find at least one compatriot to travel with before I go.”
So my first real party experience would be on my own. I’d heard horror stories of Divers who’d party up with novices and use them as bait or meat shields, letting them die in the Deep and reaping all the rewards for themselves.
The gargs’ bodies were strengthened from the corruption, so the hides, teeth, bones, and other parts of their bodies sell at a high price to weapon and armor shops in the towns. It was a very lucrative business, which was why my parents could afford to live in such an exclusive and safe city such as this without ever needing to work anymore.
“It ain’t just the gargs you need to worry about either, hunger is an issue as well, so I’m going to teach you how to hunt too,” Uncle Chris told me as he digs out a wood bow from a closet behind him. As I reach out to touch it he slaps my hand.
“This is my bow Laddie, I already gave you that damned knife, this isn't a charity.”
Fair enough, he already trained me for free, and was taking me out to the Deep without pay, the favors he owed to my parents only got me so far.
“That massive blade of yours won't fare well in hunting, you’ll have to learn to use a bow and arrow as well.”
I nodded, outside of combat, my greatsword was highly impractical. I’d see if Steven has any bows I could buy off him.
“Now when do you plan to leave the city? It can’t be too soon as I still have some things to prepare…” he trailed off, going over the necessary materials for the journey to himself.
“6 days from now is what I’ve decided.”
6 more days with Steven, with my parents, in this city, this place was my home. I'd miss it, but I will come back one day, with tales of my Diving exploits, and a party at my side to show around the city and introduce to everyone.
“6 days, huh? That should be fine. Very well, I’ll be busy procuring the goods for our trip, get yourself a bow while you’re out as well.”
“Yes sir.” Uncle Chris would be my master for this journey, so I’d better start looking at him as a warrior and give him the respect he deserved as one of the finest in the land.
He ushered me out of his house quickly, “Off you go, boy. There’s much to be done for our journey later.”
“Thank you again Uncle Chris.”
He didn’t say anything, simply nodded, and with that I turned and headed for the Lithil family’s smithy.
I walked in and the noise of customers browsing the shop fills my ears. While the Lithil family specialized in smithing, other forms of craftsmanship were practiced here, like woodworking and leathercraft.
I wandered around a bit before finally finding Mr. Lithil in a corner of the shop putting up a new sword.
“Hey Mr. Lithil, where’s Steven?” I asked him
“Out buying some raw materials for the shop at the moment, my apologies Ray.”
“That’s fine, I’m just here to buy a bow for hunting.”
“Hunting, eh? Bringing that massive blade down on the neck of some poor rabbit would be a comedic sight indeed wouldn’t it?” He laughed.
I nod in agreement as he shows me to the back side of the store, appearing almost like a large closet full of wood and leather goods. As I looked around, a strange jet black bow caught my eye.
“Made from the bones of a corrupted bear.” Mr. Lithil told me. That explains why it’s such a deep shade of black.
I picked up the bow and inspected it, “So it’s not made of wood huh?”
“No, but many of the same principles apply to boneworking as woodworking so we have it in this backroom here.”
I honestly didn’t have much of a need for a nice bow, but this would be durable and likely last me my entire journey, even if a bit expensive because of the rare material, and if I’m to be honest, it looks really badass.
“How much would it cost?” I asked, almost afraid of the answer. My family may be well off, but it’s not like they’d oblige every arbitrary inclination I had to buy something.
“For you son? I’ll let you pay half, 15 gold coins now, and the other 15 when you come back with pockets padded in Diver earnings.” Mr. Lithil told me with a big smile on his face. This family really did too much for me.
After giving Mr. Lithil a firm handshake and forking the coins for the bow, I walked home with a bow in hand and empty pockets.
Along with the bow I got a few cheap arrows and a leather satchel, I didn’t expect to need much else for the journey. All I lacked was some corrupted hide clothing and I’d look like a tried and true Diver. I imagined myself climbing up a pile of corrupted corpses, bloody and beaten, raising my sword overhead with a shout of victory as I walked into the house.
“What’s that dumb look for?” My dad asked, seeing my face as I’m swept up in fantasy.
I ignored his question and showed him the bow I bought.
“This is a fine piece of work.” He said looking it over, his eyes stopped for just a bit longer on the salamander insignia of the Lithils, but he likely didn't even need to see it to know who made it.
When he finished admiring the craftsmanship, it donned on him. “Just how much did this bow cost Ray?! You use a greatsword for heaven's sake! Why buy such a high quality bow?”
I chuckle nervously and scratch the back of my head when I answer, “It looked cool”
My father looked obviously disappointed in my purchase, but he doesn’t say much because he was also one to make sporadic unnecessary purchases in his Diver days. With so much money from corrupted materials in a young boy's pockets, who wouldn’t indulge themselves a little?
I successfully avoided telling him the price. It had taken almost every coin in my money pouch I brought to the store, but I held no regrets with my purchase.
Maybe I’d call my bow “the Dark Lord's Wrath” I thought to myself happily, but then upon realising the embarrassment I’d feel when I announce its name every time I pull it out, I decide to leave the weapon nameless. If my precious greatsword lacked a name, then my bow shouldn't have one either.
I left my weapons in my room after deciding to do some physical training in our yard until mother gets back home. She returned shortly, arms full of bags from the city’s market. I came inside, wiping the sweat off my forehead, and to my dismay, heard my mother say, “Tonight, Ray will do the cooking.”
My face went pale. It’s not like I’d never cooked in my life, but the extent of my knowledge ended at cooking meat over a fire. It always tasted sufficiently terrible, and had looks to match. After my first time cooking I vowed to never cook inside ever, for fear that I’d burn down our entire neighborhood.
My father, aware of my ineptitude in cooking, looks appalled. This couldn’t possibly go well, but knowing that I'd have to cook for myself when I traveled, I reluctantly began to prepare the food my mother had brought.
Most of the kitchen ware were products of Steven’s genius, using Slissite to draw out the user's power and convert it to heat. Of course my mother could do as much without the tools, but apparently it was easier and more convenient to use nonetheless.
Thing was, my massive magic pools often caused the tools to put out a little too much power, so a brief touch of the Slissite panel was all it needed to get a good fire going. My mother could control the flow as she pleased but my magic had a mind of its own, and would simply rush into any Slissite surface I touched.
Once I got the fire going I let my mother guide me through preparing the meal, but she lended so much help it was basically just her cooking and me doing the movements. I would likely forget all the advice she’s giving me by tomorrow.
When I finished the meal we sat down and looked reluctantly at our plates.
With a disappointed face, my mother looked at me and said “You really take after your father don’t you.”
I looked much like my father, acted much like him, fought much like him, thought much like him, all I inherited from my mother was her ridiculous amount of magic and dirty blonde hair. Really I just looked like a younger version of my dad that dyed his hair from black.
My Dad laughed heartily at my mother’s comment, but as soon as he took a bite of my meal, the smile faded. Without a word he stood up with a serious look on his face and took his plate outside, when he returned the plate was empty.
“What was that?” My mother and I asked in unison.
“That couldn’t have been food, that was obviously compost.” my father said frankly.
My mother looked at me doubtfully and we both took a bite of my cooking. We once more look at eachother and stand up to follow my fathers example.
After a real meal cooked by my mother, the whole family turned in for the night.
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