Bog Standard Isekai

Brin held the marble containing a little piece of primordial chaos for all to see. In all their faces, he saw a mirror of the awe that he felt whenever he gazed upon it. It didn't have a color, or a shape, and he couldn't say that it was bright or dark, but it also wasn't invisible. In fact, it was more visible than any of the real world around it. Even dormant and sleeping, the mote of chaos was the most visible thing he'd ever seen.

Davi flicked his eyes away as if offended. He made a fake smile, gave Brin a thumbs up and said. "Neat."

Then he sat down and started fiddling with his Oud again.

"Ok, seriously, what's going on with you?" asked Brin.

"Not much, what's going on with you?" Davi replied casually.

"You've been acting weird all day," said Brin.

Davi snorted, and didn't look up.

Brin really didn't want to do this here in front of everyone, but before he could stop himself he said, "Why are you mad at me?"

"What are you mad at me?" All the cool indifference was gone in an instant. Davi was on his feet, his Oud forgotten on the ground.

"I'm not–"

"Do you think I wouldn't know? I can see emotions better than you can see colors. I was excited, you know. I thought I was going to see my best friend after months, but then one look at you and... and the hatred..."

"I don't hate you, Davi," said Brin.

"Stop lying!"

He didn't hate Davi. He didn't. But he was angry, and his attempts at deflecting were dishonest. He was suddenly very conscious of all the eyes on them. He dismissed his Invisible Eyes in the near proximity, but that just made it worse, because the influx of memories made him doubly aware of everyone. Aeron was nudging Meredydd with his elbows, some shared joke in his eyes. Cati leaned forward in interest as if someone had just turned on her favorite soap opera, while Amai was shrinking back in fright. Cid's tired irritation, Hedrek's sympathetic anger, Govannon's shared resentment, everything.

He felt his face growing red. Davi, seeing his words were having an effect, kept going. "And you have no right! You get everything, Brin! Every Achievement, every Title, all the experience, it just falls on you. And when we ask you for one tiny favor–"

"You didn't ask! You just did it!" Brin exploded. His analytical mind told him to hang back, to not sour a friendship with a powerful [Skald], that he was being illogical. His analytical mind wasn't in control. "You ambushed me out of nowhere!"

"That's right. You always say no, and we always come anyway. Time and again you say no and we come anyway! Because as much as you wanted it all for yourself, you knew that it would be wrong to take all the experience and leave us behind. You gave us a part," said Davi. "Because that's what friends do."

"That... what... what's wrong with you people? That's not how it was at all! I didn't want you to come because I didn't want you to die. I didn't think you'd want to be in danger!"

"Maybe most people wouldn’t, but we were the Golden Children of Hammon's Bog!"

"So that's all it was? You did all that just for the points?"

"We came because you needed help! So why couldn't you do the fight on conscription day?"

Brin couldn't speak. The sudden hot anger, the embarrassment of doing this in front of everyone, and the sheer confusion because he barely knew what Davi was talking about right now, it all mixed together to tie his tongue. He stood there, taking a few panting breaths in stunned anger. Maybe that was a good thing, because by the time he could talk again, he had something to say.

"You know my past. You know what kind of people I grew up with. I thought life in Hammon's Bog would be different. I thought I'd found some people who actually saw me as a friend, instead of as an unharvested pile of experience points."

It was unfair, and that argument wouldn't work in the Wyrd, because that was Aberthol's life, not his. But it didn't have to be fair, and this wasn't about the Wyrd.

Davi didn't have anything to say, and it reminded Brin of old Davi, the big, shy, hard-working farmer.

The moment passed, and Davi came into his Class again. He looked around at the onlookers and said, "I hope that's enough entertainment for one night." The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚫𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚫𝕟𝕖𝕥

Mal Onion leapt to his feet and gave a standing ovation. Aeron and Meredydd laughed and clapped along, and then Cati joined in. Most of the rest of those gathered cast Mal glares, and Cid put a hand on Hedrek's shoulder to stop him from rising to his feet and possibly knocking the [Witchhunter] out.

The pages followed after Davi, on Cid's order, because Davi hadn't waited to grab a pack before following Brin and he needed a bedroll.

The rest went to bed soon after. Cid set up the watch, and Brin wasn't included, but he didn't sleep much anyway. He spent the night going over the argument in his head, thinking about all the things Davi had said that were wrong. He was twisting up his memories; only Brin could recall things clearly. He also thought about how embarrassing the whole thing was. He shouldn’t have said that last thing. That was over the line. He'd handled that like a fifteen-year-old, not like the mature adult he should be. These kids, they'd pulled him down to their level. He blamed this stupid teenager brain.

By morning he was ready to apologize. Not that he'd done anything wrong, but he missed Davi. He wanted his friend back.

In the morning, things were quiet. The girls were eager to do as much as they could to prove their usefulness and took care of packing up the tents, tending the horses, and seeing that everyone was fed and watered. That meant that the men had little to do, and they waited in awkward silence.

It was a relief when they finally started off. They stretched out in a line, and Brin was able to ride up alone next to Davi.

"I'll reset my Class," said Davi.

"Shut up," said Brin. “You can’t reset your Class.”

"I mean it. I never wanted [Bard] anyway. If you think I got my levels by taking advantage of you, then I'll reset my Class. People before points. That's what mom says," said Davi.

"When did she say that?" asked Brin. He felt the same familiar sense of panic. The Class-fed fear that one of his secrets was in danger.

"After the battle. She told us she’s a [Witch]," said Davi.

Brin's stomach sank. "None of you knew? Did... did Alvir know?"

"I think he suspected. I think all of us suspected. But it was still a shock," said Davi. "She offered to reset her Class. She said if it was her power or her family, she'd choose her family. Dad spent a lot of time visiting friends after that."

"I'm sorry," said Brin.

"I think they'll pull through."

"That must be rough."

"Like I said, they'll pull through," said Davi. He raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, I just don't think you have a chance there."

Brin shook his head. "Oh by Solia's stars, Davi."

"Even if they don't pull through. You and mom? I just don't see it happening," said Davi.

"Stop!" Brin whined.

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"I just don't want you to get your hopes up is all," said Davi.

Brin sighed dramatically. "To live is to hope."

They both laughed, and it felt good, but then silence fell.

"I should've told you," said Brin.

"You should have," said Davi.

"[Illusionist] makes it really hard for me to tell secrets, but that's no excuse. I still should've told you. I just... I guess I wasn't sure if it was my place."

"You were in a weird position," said Davi.

"I'm still sorry," said Brin.

"Yeah, alright." Davi sighed. "I shouldn't have sprung the duel on you like that. To be honest, it wasn't even really for me. Zilly wanted to do it, and she never would've had a chance against you alone. We owe it to her, you know? You had Hogg and Lumina, but I had Jeffrey. Myra had Tawna, and then she learned from Lumina, too. Zilly had nobody."

She'd had Prefit Elmon, and at the time Brin hadn't seen the problem with that. But now that he was in an army, he could see how a small town [Warrior] didn't compare to the trainers the rest of them had. Hogg had given her pointers now and again, but not nearly as much as if Brin had asked him to train her directly.

"How is she now?" Brin asked.

"I know she's a [Scout]. All I've heard is that she actually took the Class, switched it from [Marauder]," said Davi.

Brin reeled back in his saddle, and his horse shook his head in irritation for the sudden movement. Zilly was a [Marauder]? For that you had to enter someone’s home, kill everyone, and take whatever you wanted. He’d wondered if the [Witch] they’d found near Blackcliff had counted. After all, they hadn’t taken much, and Lurilan had been the one to kill the [Witch] days later. Hopefully she’d unlocked it then, and not from something else…

"So she did have [Marauder]," said Brin. "Can we blame the evil Class on the way she was acting?"

"She's always been like that. You'll look out for her? If you find her out there?"

"Of course," said Brin.

Davi nodded. "So what's our plan for Talra?"

"Right. Let's get my Prime in on this." He waved at Cid to come and join them, and Cid trotted his horse up beside him.

"We're ready to talk shop," Brin told him.

"Good. I feared that we'd get all the way to Talra before you confided this mysterious plan of yours to me," said Cid.

"I think we're ready. One last thing. Marksi, you can come out now. We're done fighting," said Brin.

Marksi turned visible from where he'd been slinking along at the side of the road. He dashed over and leapt up onto Brin's lap on the saddle. It was a tight fit and the horse twitched his ears in irritation.

Marksi dug into Brin's pocket and pulled out the glass marble with the mote, and Brin took it before he could get any ideas.

"I thought long and hard what to do about this. I had lots of ideas about using it to transform some kind of glass creation, or use it to fuel an engine, or embed it into a weapon. The problem is that we have no idea what would happen if I tried any of that. The most likely answer is to use it as a weapon of last resort, but even then it would be a terrible risk. I've decided this is our best option. Here, we'll be using the mote in the exact same way that they used the rest of the chaos magic. It's the only thing we can do with it where we'll have some idea of the outcome," said Brin.

"If I remember correctly, the chaos didn't always transform the curse into something safe. There were explosions, cutting winds, rains of stone, not to mention the monsters. We're liable to destroy all of Talra along with Sion's goods," said Cid.

Davi reached over and patted Marksi's head, causing the dragonling to purr. "We might not need that thing, if you're worried about it. I have some pretty strong resistance to curses. I bet me and Mal over there could take care of the whole thing."

Brin had to scratch his head to figure out why Davi would have stronger resistance to curses than he did, but it probably wasn't a System thing at all. More likely, Bruna had cast some kind of protection on him. He didn't want to rely on that. He wasn't sure he wanted to try to stack a self-taught country [Witch's] magic against someone probably taught by Arcaena herself.

"True," said Brin. "But I don't like it. It puts everything on you, and we have no way of knowing if your resistances are strong enough. Plus, if I got you hurt, your mother would kill me."

Davi nodded knowingly, showing he knew what Brin was thinking. If foreign Wyrd touched Bruna's magic, she'd know immediately, even across the world. She wouldn't be happy to find out Brin was putting her son in danger again. "I still want to help."

"You will. With you here, we'll be able to guide it somewhat. The one thing I know about chaos is that it's insanely impressionable. If we're lucky, we might even be able to turn it into something good."

It was actually pretty lucky that Davi was here. He'd been planning on using [Say What's True] to guide the mote, but that would've had the risk of everyone seeing what he was doing. He could trust the Lance, but he didn't want Cati, Amai, Mal, and the pages to see anything they shouldn't.

"In case it comes to a fight, can you do that Skill you did for Zilly? Where every blow is stronger than the last?" asked Brin.

"No, that's a [M– that's her Skill. [Senseless Battery]. What I have is [Guiding Hand]. I can sort of... stretch your Skills. I can delay their activation, stretch out how long they last, and spoof some of the requirements. [Senseless Battery] is supposed to cancel and start over from scratch if she loses focus, but I kept it going for her," said Davi.

"Can you spoof [Battle Fury]?" asked Brin.

"I can try."

They rode for three more hours, keeping up a quick pace. For the knights on their specially bred horses, it wasn't too quick at all, but they had to keep an eye on the mundane horses guiding the wagon. For the women and pages riding in the bumpy wagon, the ride must've been perfectly miserable, but they didn't complain.

They stopped two miles away from Talra. For most, it was too far to see anything except the outline of burned cottages. For Brin, it was almost too close.

The hot Prinnashian sun had dried out and nearly mummified the corpses rather than rotting them away, but he could still see from the position of their bodies that not all Talrans had died quickly. Undead were monsters, but the human soldiers of Arcaena were true monsters. No one else seemed to notice except for Brych, who seemed even more disgusted than he was.

He turned his eyes away.

"Alright, who's up for a duel?"

He got several hands, even before he explained that this was about [Battle Fury]. Normally, he couldn't get it to tick up from practice, but making it into a formal duel while Davi strummed his Oud in the background got it to work. He fought against Govannon, Aeron, and Hedrek with them armored and him not, taking injuries each time. When he was at 40% Hedrek gave him a deep gouge on the thigh. It would be fine, but Cid didn't want Brin going into battle with anything worse.

Brin rearmored. They checked their weapons, with Meredydd going out of his way to inspect every one. They moved the horses far, far back to stay with the pages, the girls, and the wagon. They were allowed to travel with the horses, but they were not allowed to take them into combat, not when they were supposed to be on leave.

All was prepared. They approached the town.

First, Davi began to play. Brin and he had gone over a bit about what song he should play, and they'd chosen an Ollandish song about a team of explorers who'd set out to settle a land that was covered in ice and snow. It was all about taking something dangerous and miserable and taming it, turning it to something good. Davi started the song first, and then Brin joined in with illusionary music. He kept to stringed instruments. Davi had cautioned him that [Bards] creating their own accompaniment with Skills wasn't unusual, but if Brin wanted to keep his involvement a secret he should stay away from drums or horns.

Brin could feel in his glass magic that the mote was starting to awaken. It still hated the idea of becoming, of being torn out of perfection, but it seemed satisfied with the intent of Davi's song. To turn evil into good was a worthy sacrifice.

Brin carefully floated the glass marble over into the town. He felt it clash against the curse that lay on the town. The curse struck him, too, but not with anything that could overcome his own resistances. It didn't have an argument. He hadn't trespassed, he'd only thrown a marble inside.

Brin tore open the glass, and the mote was free.

It happened again, all the strange unreal reality from the first day of the war. A tiny fleck of gold paint was tossed across the surface of reality, and then it bled into the fabric.

It was hard to watch. The smaller amount made it less overwhelming than before, so he could really focus on what was going on. It was a sin, he realized, to make something. It was a sin to turn potential into reality. When something was only a dream, it could stay pure and perfect. When you made something real, it could only be called a fall from grace.

The mote of chaos fell into the world, and just like they'd hoped, it began to absorb the Wyrd. Brin lent his own power to Davi's music, pushing the idea they'd decided on, of turning anger into peace and curse into blessing. Evil into good.

They had decided not to try to decide what that good thing would be. Rather than trying to control the chaos, they'd let it decide. He realized now that was impossible; the chaos didn't have opinions, it could only react to the things around it.

A white head began to grow from the ground, covered in scales. As it grew, Brin saw that it was the head of a snake. Davi had accidentally given the mote the idea to turn into something he saw as unreservedly good. Not a snake. A dragon.

Now that it had started, the idea established itself in both their minds. A dragon. Wild, but noble. Peaceful, unless challenged.

But good things can't last forever, and the Wyrd began to have its way. The curse pushed spite into the creation. A noble brow, wise eyes, but a cruel mouth full bent down in haughty anger. A slender mane of pure white hair, a stiff neck full of muscle. What might have been a pure wyrm now grew arms. Strong dependable arms to hold the weight of the world, but wicked and clawed hands, eager to do violence.

Still, they did their best to guide the choas. It kept wanted to break into pieces, to let part of itself become a beam of light, an unusual smell, or a spike in gravity. Each time, Davi and Brin turned it around, guiding it back into the whole and reintegrating it with the greater creation. They were able to keep it growing, but they couldn't fully force the direction.

The further the dragon grew, the more the Wyrd got into it. The dragon's hind-limbs were disfigured and one was much larger than the other. The tail was bulbous and disgusting to look at, with poisonous spikes at the root.

The dragon took a deep breath, and Brin felt immediately that the beast was unstable. Its random creation hadn't turned it into a true animal, but a cruel facsimile of one, held up only by its own magic. It would fall apart on its own eventually. Probably a matter of days. He doubted they had that long.

The dragon breathed out. Then it opened its eyes. Mad eyes, full of hatred. It had all of the spite of the curse, with the added hatred of the chaos magic that forced it to become real. He'd been right not to use it for something else; it was always going to hate him.

The dragon roared, and launched itself at the Lance.