Larkin braced himself for the same sort of pain that he’d experienced in the void within the portal. Only to find himself almost disappointed as his body shivered as a pulse of some rushing energy passed through him.

  It was over in an instant and he suddenly felt great.

  YOU ARE NOW A LEVEL ONE FIGHTER.

  Huh…

  He slowly climbed to his feet. He then cautiously poked at his shoulder where the monster had struck him and then tested his weight on the ankle that had buckled. His body seemed to have completely recovered.

  Another pane of blue formed in his vision.

  FOR ACQUIRING THE FIGHTER CLASS YOU HAVE GAINED: THE COMMON WEAPON EXPERTISE SKILL, AND MINOR INCREASES TO STRENGTH AND ENDURANCE.

  This was accompanied by another pulse of energy - a little stronger this time. And Larkin felt that his spine and muscles seemed to strengthen in response.

  A grin came to his face as he re-read the massage. Now this was more like it!

  He dismissed the notification and saw his sword lying on the ground. Bending down to pick it up seemed like a completely effortless task, and then he found himself re-examining the blade.

  It was like looking at it for the first time: though he quickly came to the conclusion that it was even more crap than he had first thought. But he suddenly felt like he could use it as an extension of his own arms.

  Right now though, it was a gory mess - the upper half of the rough blade smeared in red. He shook the worst of it off, and then knelt down to wipe more off on the grass.

  That will have to do for now, he thought with a frown. Sheathing the weapon was a smooth motion, his earlier jerky movements now forgotten.

  “Are you okay, mister?”

  The voice came drifting down from atop the hill. He could just about see a feathered head peering down the slope.

  Larkin gave a wave as he started walking back up.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” He called, not even breathing heavily as he climbed the steep slope.

  Up close, the creature was even more strange to him than when it had been covering on the rocks. His newfound knowledge called it an Avorean, but to his eyes it looked like a kid that had worn a bird costume and then had the thing fused to him.

  The boy stood maybe three feet tall, was crazily thin, and his brown feathers seemed at once bushy and soft. Despite their size disparity, the little Avorean was staring at him with eager curiosity.

  “I’m Larkin.” He told the kid. “What are you doing out here?”

  The bird-boy nodded enthusiastically back.

  “I’m Squrl. And I live nearby.” A feathered hand fluttered behind him. “I heard some of the servants talking about strange monsters roaming around, so I wanted to investigate.”

  “I certainly didn’t expect to find an Irontooth.” He added. “I was lucky you happened to be coming by.”

  Despite his words, Squrl seemed remarkably chipper about things.

  “Hey, you should come stay at my place.” The little Avorean said. “I mean, it’s actually Grandpa’s, but he’d like you to stay too!”

  Larkin had been looking for people and shelter, so readily agreed. And learned very quickly on the way that Squrl really liked to talk.

  “My parents live in the capital, Haugar.” He chatted away happily. “In a little house in Newtown; you can see the Spire from my bedroom window!”

  The bird peered at him, as though trying to gauge whether Larkin was sufficiently impressed. He was probably disappointed though, as Larkin didn’t have a clue as to what he was talking about.

  Except, he thought with a mixture of shock and disquiet, that’s not quite true.

  He did have some sudden understanding that Haugar was the capital of the Kingdom of Girant, which sat in the west of the continent of Pendera.

  Is that knowledge from my Skill? I guess learning a language involves context as well as just words…

  The thought came somewhat distantly, as Larkin blinked at the little Avorean who was still staring up at him.

  “The Spire?” He asked, feeling lost.

  And got an expression of wide-eyed shock from the kid.

  “The Academy Spire.” Squrl told him. “In the Royal Academy. I thought everyone knew about it?”

  Larkin felt both a sense that he was outing himself as a stranger and also hurting the feelings of the little guy.

  This is why dealing with kids is such a struggle, he groused to himself, doing his best to push away the knowledge of Systemia that was insidiously invading his thoughts.

  “The Royal Academy?” He instead asked, feeling like he was flailing around for something he could make sense of.

  That was clearly the wrong question though, as Squrl looked even more confused.

  “The scholars that help the king and the kingdom.” He said, sounding like he thought Larkin was a little slow. “They let in all sorts, even Alchemist. The Academy comes up with loads of new cool things too!”

  Larkin nodded at that, as his gaze went to a small pendant that the kid wore around his neck. It was a simple leather thong holding a small piece of stone against the breastbone of Squrl.

  But he recalled that strange ethereal light that had kept the monster - the Irontooth - away.

  “Stuff like that amulet?” He asked, nodding to the thing.

  And Squrl brightened up immediately.

  “Exactly!” He proclaimed in a high-pitched squeal. “Dad says that Alchemy isn’t very advanced in Girant, but we can still make some cool things!”

  Larkin nodded along, even as he mind was whirring.

  Alchemy? He wondered.

  He immediately felt some new information revealing itself in the back of his head. But he found himself avoiding that, out of some atavistic aversion to learning through that invasive process.

  “That seemed to stop the monster from attacking you.” He pointed out, focusing on the conversation. “How does it work?”

  Squrl gave the amulet a fond pat even as he seemed to ponder the question.

  “I don’t really know.” He finally admitted, sounding disappointed. “Mum says that it’s too early for me to sign the Convention, so I haven’t been told any of the details yet.”

  “But Grandpa knows all about it.” Squrl said, brightening. “Even though he left the Academy ages ago.”

  Larkin nodded, quietly filing away the strange power that this Alchemy seemed to have.

  “So your whole family works for the Royal Academy?” He asked the kid.

  Which, he soon found out, was a mistake. Squrl started talking excitedly.

  And wouldn’t shut up.

  “Yep, they’re all scholars. Grandpa was one of the founding members of the Academy!” He beamed at that, proudly puffing out his little chest. “And my parents are important too. My mum sits on the Academy Board.”

  The little feathery kid frowned.

  “Although dad says that people should listen to us more.” He added, sounding contemplative. “Mum’s always saying that they can’t do as much to help people as they could. Because of… ‘credulous imbeciles’, she says.”

  Larkin smirked to himself; plenty of people like that back home, too.

  “How come you’re out here then?” He asked, when the boy paused for a breath.

  It was a question that clearly pleased the kid, probably because it gave him even more excuse to talk.

  “Dad said I should stay at Grandpa’s place for a little while.” Squrl said. “I thought it would be boring but it's okay - he’s got loads and loads of books.”

  The thought of the eager little kid avidly peering down at books was an odd image, and Larkin had to prevent a smile coming to his face.

  “But when I heard the servants talking about the monsters acting weird, I had to check it out.”

  Squrl had mentioned that before, and Larkin gave him a curious look.

  “That’s … pretty dangerous, right?”

  Sure, the kid had that Alchemical doohickey, but Larkin was unsure what the little Avorean would have done to get away from the monster if he hadn’t come across them. But the kid showed no sign of concern, though the ruffles around his head did bristle a little.

  “It really shouldn’t be.” Squrl protested. “The Wardstones should keep monsters away.”

  Larkin raised an eyebrow - another word I don’t know.

  “Wardstones, eh?” He muttered, before glancing inquiringly down at Squrl.

  If he outright admitted that he didn’t know what the heck they were, he imagined the kid might throw even more questions his way. So he picked his words carefully.

  “I saw more monsters a few miles back that way.” He told the Avorean, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “They seemed way more dangerous than the… uh, Irontooth.”

  He stumbled a bit over that name, but Squrl’s frown didn’t seem to be about that.

  “There was a Goblin down the trail, too.” Larkin added.

  Squrl gave a thoughtful trilling noise, sounding like such a pompous old creature that Larkin did smile that time. Though he doubted the little scholar noticed.

  “Goblins aren’t affected by the Wards - that’s a common misconception by the commonfolk.” The Avorean said softly, mostly to himself. “They should know to avoid areas with them in, though. And monsters definitely shouldn’t cross them.”

  Larkin felt that the kid had snuck an insult in there, but shrugged as they climbed up yet another damn hill. Wait, was that a building off in the distance?

  “Unless something forced them to do it.” Squrl continued to muse. “That was the reason for the Alynchar incursions, at least according to the books I’ve read. That was before Wardstones were invented, of course. But hopefully that’s not the case.”

  He blinked and then looked up at Larkin.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Those stronger monsters you saw, they weren’t Llochal, were they?”

  Larkin blinked at the unfamiliar word, until he felt the image of a horrifying shelled bipedal creature coming into his head. With a restrained shudder he responded in the negative.

  “Good.” Squrl declared, sounding relieved. “Them emerging so close to the capital would have been a disaster.”

  The little Avorean continued to mutter to himself, but Larkin found his attention going ahead of them. There was definitely a building there, and the closer they got the larger it seemed.

  ‘Gramp’s place’ - as Squrl had called it - turned out to be a sprawling three story mansion made of neat pale grey stones with a blue tiled roof. It was surrounded by a low stone wall, and had well maintained gardens.

  There were a couple of Human gardeners tending to it, and one of them looked up and then appeared to give a start.

  “Young master.” He gasped.

  Squrl just waved cheerfully as they walked past, apparently used to that reaction, but Larkin found himself the target of guarded stares as he went past. No one approached the pair of them though.

  They approached a carved set of double doors, which opened as they were getting close.

  “Squrl!” An older Avorean declared, giving the kid a bewildered stare. “Where have you been?”

  Larkin recognised, without knowing how he knew, that this Avorean was a lot older than Squrl. Even before the kid gave a pleased squawk.

  “Hi Grandpa.” He greeted. “I went out to see what was happening with the monsters. Then this Irontooh was chasing me, and I had to use Dad’s pendant to keep it away. And then this guy saved me. His name is Larkin and he’s a Fighter, I think.”

  The elder Avorean just stared at the kid in evident bewilderment with that torrent of words, before raising a feathered hand to try and get Squrl to stop.

  “Monsters? Are you addled, boy? You shouldn’t…” The Avorean trailed off as his gaze snapped back to Larkin.

  “Wait, you’re a Classbearer?”

  The question was directed at Larkin, but Squrl didn’t let that stop him from responding.

  “That’s what I said, Grandpa.”

  But the adult Avorean waited until Larkin gave a nod.

  I guess the term fits, he thought.

  The older bird-man gave an audible gulp, before hurriedly bowing.

  “That you for saving my idiot grandson, honoured Classbearer.” He intoned, voice suddenly formal. “My name is Krystan. Would you do me the honour of coming into my home?”

  Larkin blinked at the change in the old guy’s demeanour. Whatever the Avorean might say, his body language certainly didn’t convey that it would be an honour.

  He’s obviously worried about me.

  Though that wasn’t shared by his grandson.

  “Yeah, yeah, come inside Larkin.” The kid beckoned excitedly as he squeezed past his grandfather into the house.

  Larkin coughed awkwardly.

  “Yes, sure.” He mumbled.

  And so a few minutes later he found himself sitting across from Krystan at a long wooden table that was set just a little too low for him to feel comfortable. Platters and mugs were being set down around him by a couple of Human servants. And Squrl had run off to get something he’d been muttering about.

  And all the while Krystan had been staring at Larkin with those wary eyes.

  “It appears that my grandson owes his life to you, Sir Larkin.” He said. “May I ask if you come from the capital, or are you seeking it?”

  Larkin took a sip of water, finding it more flavoured than he was used to. More iron-y, perhaps, though without being gritty.

  “I’m not heading to Haugar, no.” He finally said, deciding that he might as well try and use some of his newfound knowledge to look less out of place.

  He reckoned the capital must be where Soas was taking the others. And he had no desire to see them anytime soon.

  “I was heading east.” He added, hoping that would satisfy the Avorean.

  And Krystan nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly.

  “To the Sea of Arguil? Are you perhaps heading over to the Pacra Islands?”

  Larkin hesitated, going as far away from the capital as possible seemed good to him. But he didn’t really know anything about Systemia.

  “Possibly. Eventually.” He finally hedged. “But I have no particular destination in mind.”

  It seemed pretty bizarre to Larkin to be even having this conversation with Krystan. He got the sense that the Avorean was an old bird, so it was like a random old man quizzing him about what he wanted to do in life.

  Doing his best to shake off that feeling, he decided to ask the old Avorean about some of the things that had come up from all the words that Squrl had spoken.

  “Squrl had this strange device around his neck.” He said. “It was giving out this strange white light that kept the Irontooth from reaching him.”

  It had definitely been strange - though obviously useful as well.

  “He said it was made from Alchemy.” He continued, looking back at Krystan.

  And only then noticed the fixedness that had come to the Avorean’s body language.

  “The amulet has been registered at the Grand Temple in Haugar.” He said stiffly. “I obey all of the tenets of the Holy Convention, you can be sure of that.”

  There was no disguising the hostility that Krystan was now giving off. Though Larkin had no idea as to what had triggered him.

  And that’s the second time this convention thing has been mentioned, he thought.

  “I… ah, just thought it was really cool.” He muttered. “The amulet I mean.”

  The old bird just gave him a curious look, so Larkin found himself rambling on a bit.

  “That monster wasn’t even able to touch him.” He continued. “It was like the light that the amulet was giving out kept it away. Shouldn’t everyone have something like that?”

  I mean, Larkin guessed that they were expensive to make. And maybe monsters weren’t meant to be such an everyday problem - thanks to these Wardstones. But it still seemed like a miraculous thing to have around.

  And it seemed that Krystan agreed, as the old Avorean’s posture relaxed. A little, anyway.

  “Some in the Royal Academy argue for that.” He said, still speaking carefully. “But I fully support the authority that the temples and the court have in this area.”

  He said that last very sharply. And it very belatedly occurred to Larkin that the old bird was maybe worried that he might be opposed to those things.

  Hell knows why. He thought, feeling more confused about the idea. Though I guess he talked about the temple and the court…

  There was a lull in the conversation until Krystan’s next question.

  “You have certainly helped my family today.” The Avorean declared, still sounding like he was choosing his words with care. “What reward would you like?”

  Larkin blinked, startled silent for a moment.

  He felt like he had helped Squrl - as he still wasn’t sure how the kid could have gotten away from the Irontooth. But at the same time…

  “I don’t need any reward.” He firmly told the Avorean. “I didn’t do all that much.”

  When Krystan gave him a blank look, a thought did come to him. And a quick glance at the darkened sky out of the window made him backtrack a little.

  “It would be great if I could stay the night.” He added. “But then I’ll head out first thing tomorrow.”

  Krystan was still just staring at him, but just as he finally opened his beaked mouth there was a clattering sound of feet and Squrl reentered the room.

  “I knew it was here somewhere.” He proudly said as he practically smacked a book down onto the table. “Here, look.” He added with an eager look at Larkin.

  As he peered down at the object, he heard Krystan give a nervous cough.

  “Now, Squrl, I’m sure our guest is tired and might not want to…”

  But Larkin tuned him out as he read the title - ‘An examination of our night sky; investigating the mysteries of the celestial garden.’

  The words were clearly printed, which Larkin was glad to see. He’d feared that they’d be doing everything by hand here.

  He flipped open the cover and saw a contents page detailing all sorts of phenomena in the sky; from the sun, the moon, comets, and something that was called ‘the cyclical tides of the firmament’.

  But when he got past that he saw something that looked like an acknowledgements page. And on it, he read aloud, “To my darling little scholar, Squrl.”

  Larkin blinked and then glanced over at the Avorean.

  “Did one of your parents write this?” He asked the kid.

  Who preened, exactly like a proud robin.

  “It was my mum, yes.” He said. “She’s the most knowledgeable person about the celestial sky that there ever was.”

  Larkin nodded, resisting the urge to smile at the boast even as he glanced down at the book. The fact that such a thing existed - not only that it could - made him feel that his initial thoughts of Systemia might have been wrong. There clearly existed some form of technology and scientific work.

  But also monsters and Classbearers - who might be considered their own type of monster.

  Larkin glanced up at Krystan to see that the old Avorean looked struck by something. And he remembered what he’d first said when Squrl had started talking about the book.

  He thought I was illiterate, he realised, not with any sense of anger but rather a dull sense of surprise.

  So there isn’t mass literacy then. And maybe only the children of the powerful get an education?

  But the old Avorean looked so uncomfortable that Larkin didn’t want to start pursuing that topic with him.

  “You said your dad’s a scholar, too.” He said to Squrl. “What does he study?”

  That got a twinkle in the kid’s eye.

  “Dad is an expert on monsters!” He declared. “The top expert.” He swiftly added. “He doesn’t just build Warstones, but he also wants to know about monsters themselves.”

  “He told me that he wants to know what exactly they are and how they come into being.” Squrl said. “He says that if we can’t get rid of them entirely then maybe we can … winnow their numbers and stop them from invading our lands.”

  That was a lot of words, and Larkin nodded uncertainty.

  “Like that Irontooth?” He asked, only for Squrl to shake his head.

  “No, Da’s says that some monsters are too common. Too ordinary. He says that that’s where previous attempts to eradicate the monster population got it wrong. People try to eradicate all monsters and that leads…” The kid’s feathered brow ruffled in thought. “.. to an inevitable rebalancing of mana.” He said.

  “So they try to push all of the monsters out of an area, only for even more monsters to appear from nowhere.”

  Larkin nodded at that; feeling that he kinda understood what was being said. But then Squrl started talking in more detail about previous attempts, when and where they were, and what went wrong. With a lot of grisly details that Larkin thought a bit too mature for such a kid.

  All the while, Krystan stayed quiet, apart from an occasional short response to direct questions from his grandson. The old Avorean seemed lost in contemplation of Larkin, which he attempted not to get too awkward about.

  Eventually Squrl seemed to talk himself out of words.

  “Okay, hatchling, enough excitement for today.” Krystan declared. “Time for bed.”

  Despite some complaining, which had the tired air of being for form’s sake rather than a genuine desire to stay up, the kid departed for bed. And then, once the servants had cleared the table, it was just Larkin and the old bird left.

  At some point during the long conversation with Squrl, the wary look had gone from Krystan’s face. But Larkin had a tough time identifying what the new expression was.

  “You said earlier that you didn’t have a set destination.” The Avoean said, just before the silence became uncomfortably long. “Would you, perhaps, be willing to accept a commission?”

  Larkin felt his eyebrow twitch. My first quest, Larkin thought with an inward grin. But he kept the thought from his face and, after a moment’s thought, gave a nod.

  “I might be.” He replied, then immediately hoped that he didn’t sound too ridiculous.

  Either he succeeded or Krystan was just too polite to laugh at him to his face. Instead, the Avorean scratched at the feathers on his arm, hesitating for a moment.

  “I have a friend who lives in Gavlim.” Krystan finally said. “She usually keeps in regular contact with me; weekly letters, on all sorts of things. But none of us have heard from her for well over two months now.”

  “I don’t imagine anything much has happened to her.” He hurriedly said. “More likely she’s gone off somewhere and forgot to tell any of us. I would have sent someone before now, but… well, she’s a Classbearer herself. A Priestess of Cailtyn. So a fellow Classbearer seems a better prospect to be able to find her.”

  Larkin wasn’t enamoured at the idea of what sounded like a fetch quest. But it wasn’t like he had some other pressing business.

  “I’m sure I could deliver a message.” He told the old Avorean, hesitating a beat before adding. “What’s the quickest way to get there?”

  He thought it might have been a revealing question, but Krustan old showed a relieved expression.

  “Marvellous, thank you Sir Larkin.” He said. “You would just need to follow the old road east until you get to the sea. The coastal way would get you to Gavlim in a few days, or a boat would be even quicker.”

  Larkin nodded; that seemed easy enough.

  And, after that, Krystan had a servant show him to a guest room. Which turned out to be on the third floor and, to Larkin’s surprised relief, came equipped with a full ensuite bathroom too. And all were made for Human dimensions.

  Big bed, a full stomach, and a bath, he thought. What could be better?

  Well, he soon thought that a hot bath would be nice. But the apparatus of the bath - much like the indoor toilet he was even happier to see - relied on some stranger technology than the plumbing he was used to.

  This must be Alchemy too, he thought as he stared at the copper tub with a brass box next to it. A faucet pointed into the bath, and there were three switches; blue, red, and white. But neither the red nor white ones seemed to actually do anything.

  Larkin was reluctant to show himself so oblivious as to not know how to run his own bath and so while the blue valve jettisoned cold water into the tub, he tried to convince himself that a nice ice bath would do.

  And it actually did, he found. Or at least it was tolerable. Larkin could sit in the water without any discomfort, which he imagined must be to do with the ‘minor increases to his Endurance’ that the Fighter Class gave him. He mused about that as he washed himself; perhaps his Strength and Endurance would increase with each level in the Class? And, thinking of that, what were his Strength and Endurance right now anyway?

  Despite bringing up the notifications of his Skills, he couldn’t find any numerical representation of either. Or of any other stats for that matter.

  Still, he thought as he towelled himself down, this was pretty much exactly what he wanted when he went through the portal. Something new, something that wasn’t just the same old life that everyone else had.

  And, as he laid down on the surprisingly comfortable bed, he found a contented smile on his face as he went to sleep.