Bog Standard Isekai

Brin waited, but Vitor suddenly seemed very hesitant to actually explain the favor that he needed.

The garden was suddenly very uncomfortable now that he was standing up, and not just from the awkwardness. While sitting in meditation, he had found a sort of balance, but it was different now that he was up and moving. The air was stifling and muggy, too hot and cold at the same time.

Even so, he wasn’t even a little bit tempted to walk away and deny Vitor his favor, and he was grinning on the inside wondering what it could be. Did he want intel on Lumina’s faction? Help with the Motley Shroud, either to protect it or to destroy it? Did he want Brin to keep Bia’s bout with the Shroudlings a secret? Or maybe the opposite…

“I want to ask Gyromia to the dance,” said Vitor.

Brin’s brain froze. That was not what he was expecting. “Well, first off, don’t do that.”

Vitor’s countenance fell. “I wasn’t going to, after what happened the other day, but if I must agree to Lumina’s request and go anyway–”

“That’s not what I mean. It’s an informal ball, so you show up with your friends and ask the girl you like for the first dance after you’re already there,” said Brin. “It has to be the very first dance, though, so don’t be late.”

Vitor furrowed his brow. “I see.”

Brin wondered why he knew that but Vitor didn’t. Vitor was a noble, wasn’t he? Except Brin didn’t know a single thing about the Ellvas family except that it was a subordinate house of Barros.

“I assume that’s not what you need help with,” said Brin.

“No. No, it isn’t. I assume you have noticed that I am afflicted with a certain amount of clumsiness–”

“Right. Your curse,” said Brin.

“You knew?”

“When you’ve been cursed as many times as I have, you start to get a feel for it,” said Brin.

“How have you dealt with them? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Most people go to a temple of the gods and pray for it to be taken away,” said Brin.

“Does that work?”

“I’ve never heard of it working, but there must be a reason everyone tries that. You could also take a General Skill that’s related to something the curse affects. The System will sometimes give you a Class option that turns the negative to a positive.”

Vitor stroked his chin, thinking. He murmured “[Scarred]” under his breath.

Brin frowned, because he didn’t like how quickly Vitor was making connections here. He really shouldn’t assume he was a meathead just because he was big and muscular. "So what do you need?"

"I was hoping you might agree to... well... an unprovoked attack on my person at key points throughout the evening."

"I'm way ahead of you," said Brin. He'd already done a bit of thinking about how he would get around Vitor's curse if he were the one afflicted with it. "I just need to know a couple things. Does it switch to the beneficial version during a duel with Mage's Rules?" asked Brin.

"Well, yes, but the curse will revert if the duel is only a pretense to stay in combat. There must be an active, ongoing struggle."

"For how long?"

Over the next few minutes, Vitor gave Brin a fairly comprehensive outline of the [Curse of the Waxing Moon]. It wasn't easy to spoof by simply launching an attack, otherwise Vitor would ask his friends to keep it activated by throwing pebbles at him all day. The curse would revert to its harmful state the moment the surprise attack was finished, and the attack needed to come from a place of real animosity, or at least real competition, so even hard punches wouldn't always activate it if it was clear that the other person was just trying to help him.

They came up with a scheme where Vitor and Brin would be locked in a duel for the duration of the dance. Brin could launch attacks at Vitor at any time, while Vitor wasn't allowed to respond in kind. Instead, Brin would set up several glass targets throughout the hall that Vitor had to find and destroy. If Brin gave Vitor three wounds before the end of the night, he'd win, and Vitor had to destroy all the hidden targets to win.

There had to be real stakes, too, that was always important with these things. Brin would pay Vitor ten gold capitals if he lost, and Vitor would owe Brin a favor of his choosing if he lost. He got the sense that both of them thought they were getting the better end of the bargain there.

There was one last caveat Brin insisted on: He had the right to change the conditions of the duel at any time. It was important because he should be able to sense the state of the duel in the Wyrd. Once they were in combat, he should be able to sense when it was waning or if he needed to try harder. He didn't tell Vitor any of that, of course. Vitor thought Brin was just being a villain, and grudgingly agreed because he had no other choice.

After the negotiations, Brin left the garden to find that Ares and Sancha had ended up waiting for him in the outer glade. The so-called “hallway” hadn’t lost any of its impressiveness after spending time in the even more miraculous garden. It really felt like being out in a forest.

"Well, what'd the wizard woman want with you and Vitor?" asked Ares.

"Surely Brin's private matters are no concern of ours," said Sancha.

"It's fine," said Brin. "She just wanted to make sure I was going to the dance."

"The dance! Oh, oh, yes, we shall give this consideration. Wisely hast thou broached this subject most propitious," said Sancha.

"Well, I'm going. What else is there to consider?" asked Brin.

"Why, colors! What attire shall we don? Pastels and light hues are the wonted choice for the midsummer ball, but none shall look for thee to be wonted."

Ares looked suddenly hesitant. "I'm not so sure that I–"

"Make no protestation!" said Sancha. "I shall see thou hast the proper doublet, though I must purchase it mine own self. But Brin, what is our color?"

"I have a guy for this," said Brin.

The guy in question was waiting for them near the elevator. Brin waved his Tonin over and put the question to him.

"Your colors will be red and black, as usual, my lord," answered Tonin.

"Oh," said Sancha, looking surprised and maybe a little disappointed.

"Begging the pardon of the lady, but Lumina will be in attendance as chaperone, and we had also thought to send Jeeves along with you. Hogg told me to design your outfit to cut a balance between the two of them," said Tonin. "Unless, of course, my lady disagrees."

Stolen story; please report.

"Nay, 'tis well. 'Tis better thus, in sooth." Sancha's grin went suddenly devilish. "We shall cut through the revelry like a fell blade. I shall be wondrous fair in crimson all, and Ares may clothe himself in black. Then Brin shall stand betwixt us."

"Black! I can do black!" said Ares, looking relieved. She was throwing him a bone by requesting an outfit he definitely already had in his closet.

Marksi shifted his scales, turning himself all red and black and looked up at Brin with a question in his eyes.

"No, you should just look how you normally do," said Brin. “We’ll find that old top hat Mira made for you, though.”

Marksi nodded and shifted back to his usual rainbow pattern.

"If Jeeves is with me, where will you be?" Brin asked Tonin.

"I will of course escort you as well, should my services be required. If not, I thought to attend the servants' tea."

"I've heard of that. A crazy, lively, naughty party. You'll see everything, except maybe tea," said Ares.

"Sablite could be considered a kind of tea," said Tonin with a slight smirk. Sablite was a cheap anti-poison drug that even low-level [Pharmacists] and [Herbalists] could make. People used it as a quick sobriety potion. "But I'm sure no one of your set would be interested in a gathering like that. Much too libertine."

"I'm sure you're right," said Brin, though he could tell Ares definitely wanted to disagree. "Will you need to ask the next day off?"

"No, no, all the faithful servants of the noble lords and ladies will be awake and sober, ready to escort you home or help to sew your wounds, such as the case may be."

"Our wounds?" asked Ares.

"Master Hogg insists that there's always an attempted assassination or monster attack at one of these things," said Tonin.

"I'm sure he's exaggerating," said Brin.

"Yea, but only slightly so," said Sancha.

"Seriously? Then why are you so excited about it?"

"Because it is a ball," said Sancha, as if offended he could even ask such a thing. "I shall be in no danger myself. I am not of enough import. And look upon the bright side! I will already be clad in red. So much the better for cradling thy bloodied, broken form after thy demise. I vow that I shall weep most pathetically over thee."

"Maybe I'll be the one who's attacked," said Ares, hopefully.

"Then Tonin may dispose of thee with the rest of the rubbish," said Sancha.

Brin chuckled at their bickering. "Oh, that reminds me. I'm going to be discreetly trying to murder Vitor the entire night. It's going to be great."

They had questions, of course. While he explained things, he noticed the false sunlight dimming, as if a cloud were moving across the sun. Of course that wasn't what was going on, but did they have a device up there to emulate that? If so, why?

He'd been avoiding using Invisible Eyes to explore the place in order to preserve the magical feeling of being in an indoor forest a bit longer, but curiosity got the better of him.

He summoned an Invisible Eye and had a look. The trees were real, all the way to the top, and they spread out wide and thick to cover the space near the ceiling. The floor was tall, triple the height of a regular floor, but above the trees was only disappointment. The ceiling was painted blue, and they were regular magical torches spaced evenly across the room. The light they were giving off was a bit warmer than normal, but an alteration in the enchantment would explain that.

He didn't see anything that would make the lights dim. Had he imagined it?

It happened again. A slight darkening of the sky. This time, the slight dampening of the light held. It wasn’t enough to cause any issues with visibility even if Brin didn’t have darkvision, but the change persisted.

Ares noticed Brin looking up and followed his gaze. “Something wrong with the lights?”

“I marked it, too. A subtle faltering of the lights,” said Sancha.

“Do the gardens dim at night? Could be about that time,” said Ares.

“Maybe,” said Brin. He looked down at Marksi. “What do you think?”

Marksi thought that silly humans needed to stop asking questions they already knew the answer to.

“I don’t know the answer, that’s the problem. I’d know if I shined some light magic, but if it’s what I’m thinking, I don’t want to spook it,” said Brin.

Marksi snorted in derision.

“What is it? What’s he know?” asked Ares.

“He thinks it’s the ghost,” said Brin.

Sancha gasped, and both of them peered around at the trees, as if trying to spot it.

“I don’t know a lot of things, but I’m calmly convinced that I can count to fourteen. We’re a fair bit further up,” said Ares.

Brin asked Marksi, “What should we do?”

Marksi shrugged. How should he know? He couldn’t tell Brin what to do if he didn’t know what Brin wanted to have happen here.

“I guess I want to catch it. Or maybe just draw it out to see if I can figure out what it is,” said Brin.

Marksi jumped upright and then ran around in a circle before tearing off through the grass and flowers. Then he ran back and pretended to pounce on something.

“You want to do that now?” Brin asked.

Marksi did. He was sick of sitting around and wanted to have some fun.

“Do you still have that thing I gave you?” Brin asked Tonin.

The [Valet] opened Brin’s briefcase, and Brin saw what he wanted inside–the old ruby laser. He’d taken to having Tonin carry it around just in case he ever needed a laser but didn’t want to reveal his Light magic. Times like now; he liked Sancha and Tonin, but he wasn’t ready to let them in on his [Illusionist] abilities quite yet.

He was glad that the spell for cool flame was the first thing he'd learned to do with Fire magic. He verbally cast the spell and used it to activate his laser, creating a small red dot on the ground.

Marksi darted after it, and Brin moved it around to give him a chase. The little dragon knew in the back of his mind that it wasn’t real, that it was just a red dot made by a device and that he’d never actually be able to catch it. But something more raw and immediate told him this was prey and that it was extremely important that he put his all into catching it right away.

They laughed as they watched Marksi zip around after the laser. He really was quite fast, and even caught the dot once or twice, looking confused when it landed on the back of his head out of sight.

Brin let both Sancha and Ares have a turn with the laser, and Marksi chased it for them just as ferociously as he had for Brin.

After about ten minutes, Marksi decided he’d had enough, and stopped as quickly as he’d started. He plopped himself down on the grass, panting heavily and seeming satisfied with himself. Brin took pity on him, and shone the laser straight into his mouth. He wasn’t sure what exactly Marksi got out of that, but he seemed to see it as a nice little treat.

"From what substance is this wrought?" asked Sancha.

"Take a look," said Brin, and used his glass magic to slice it open. He handed the cylinder of ruby to her.

"Yes, I thought I had sensed a resonance."

"If you held onto it for a while, do you think you could improve it?" asked Brin. He didn't think the ruby medium would ever quite match up to the power of the Fire Jelly cores in his combat lasers, but he was curious to see what the effect would be.

"Aye, and gladly!" said Sancha. She seemed pleased to have a new gemstone to use her Class's Skills on, but she couldn't hide her growing anxiety from the environment around them.

While they'd been playing with Marksi, the shadows around them had been growing darker. All resemblance to the steady glow of an eternal twilight was gone. Now they were firmly and completely under the cover of night, and if Brin didn't have darkvision there would be dark shadows under the thickest foliage that he probably wouldn't be able to see through at all.

The laser had interacted only slightly in the Wyrd with the ghost watching them, but he felt enough to get a general impression. Curiosity.

He didn't think Marksi's sudden desire to play with the laser had been a whim. It had been a clue. So taking inspiration from that, he summoned five more Cool Flames, using the language to alter their color until he had one pink, blue, yellow, red, and green. The mental load of maintaining these five spells was greater than he expected. Since he was using Fire magic instead of illusion, [Amplified Casting] wasn't affected by it. He passed off the bulk of the work to five directed threads, and had his brain back.

The entity retreated in alarm at the presence of the new balls of flame, but Brin layered on a bit of light magic to make them brighter while using [Say What's True] to alter their message a little. These were friendly flames. These were for fun.

He danced them around in the air, making them go in circles and then swirl about wildly. After a minute of that, the ghost started to creep back closer, as evidenced by a darkening of the forest around them.

"Can I help?" asked Ares, eyes alight with interest despite the spookiness of the situation.

"Try a flame or two like mine, if you can," said Brin. "Keep it friendly. I think it's attracted to the fun."

Ares did, making two orange flames. His were real flames, but it didn't seem to dismay the ghost at all, who deepened the shadows until the lights were the probably the only thing visible to Sancha and Ares.

Brin changed the message with [Say What's True] slightly. Now they weren't just dancing; now they were looking for the ghost. Not in an aggressive way. Playfully. Hide and seek.

He could sense that the ghost liked the idea. One spot of shadow grew darker than the rest, an amorphous form hanging in the air. Brin sent his flames after it, and it fled, but not too far. He chased it, and it ran.

The interaction of the game gave him leverage in the Wyrd, and he felt more of the nature of the entity. He felt its curiosity and playfulness. He sensed that it was drawn to him, for reasons it didn't understand. Again, it felt familiar, like a song he'd heard before but couldn't quite remember.

Then out of nowhere, the lights came back on and Brin was shielding his eyes from the sudden glare. The ghost was gone.

An overweight lady who bore the [Mage of Bountiful Boughs] Class had just exited one of the closed off gardens a bit further on in the same floor, and now she was looking at Brin's group in suspicion. "What's going on out here?"

Brin sighed. "Nothing, now."

He'd made progress with the ghost, and he'd figure it out next time. For now, he had a ball to prepare for.