A day of labors

Julian felt a bead of sweat ooze down his brow as Brianna’s hard, piercing blue eyes stared at him, the sheer **** of her glare digging into his skin like icicles. He felt as if he were being analyzed for even the most minute faults. He remembered training under her when he was younger. She had been an incredibly strict, uncompromising taskmaster who accepted nothing less than his best effort and then demanded more. It was easy to see where Petra’s acerbic, unforgiving personality had come from.

“Julian Imerdan,” the Barbarian repeated, her voice deep and commanding. Over a dozen servants stood where they were and watched, an uncomfortable silence descending over the large room.

He felt their eyes on him and instantly wished he could go back to his bedroom. He hated being the center of attention. He despised having those around him stare at him in judgment. He wanted to shrink, to hide. To disappear. It was why he loved the anonymity of the city and the solitude of the wilderness and his room. In his escapes, he had found freedom from the attention and judgment of others, away from the trappings of a cursed nobility that afforded him nothing but scorn.

Gods, why does everyone have to stare at me? Look somewhere, anywhere but at me.

Julian remembered the looks on the faces of his parents when it gradually dawned on them that he would never class. Their eyes, which had once looked upon him with affection and hope, had radiated disappointment and regret. They had never been the most affectionate or present parents, but eventually they had become so distant that they were almost strangers to him. He searched his memories to find a moment where either of them had told him that they loved him and could not find any.

It had been after Rila classed and Julian’s status had been confirmed that his parents had stopped taking him to gatherings with other nobles. Families and friends who had once been enamored with him and liberal with their praise suddenly wanted nothing to do with him. He had gotten used to the love and adoration of those around him; their constant assurances that he would be a worthy successor to his father and would one day be noticed by the Empress just as his parents had. The speed at which they all turned their backs on him had been disorienting to witness, like being suddenly immersed in frigid water while sleeping and then gnawed at by fish.

Had they ever believed a single word that they had said to him?

Julian had come to realize that love and friendship were conditional, predicated on certain sets of circumstances being met. Once those circumstances changed, what people pretended was love was withdrawn. Family, friendship, and loyalty were mere illusions, he'd realized. The only thing that mattered was what was tangible; what could be learned or grasped with his own hands. Power.

Power was one’s ability to affect the world around him, to affect others. It was the only thing people respected because reality would never allow them to ignore it. Love was merely a means by which people ingratiated themselves to those who had something tangible that they desired.

Ever since he had classed, it was like a lever had been pulled in the complete opposite direction. Suddenly everyone was interested in him again and cared about him and what he thought. Everyone wanted to hear what he had to say, wanted to see his potential explored, as if the last half decade had not happened at all. That was how love worked. It was like a switch. In order to be loved, he had to be powerful. When he was powerful, he was loved. When he was powerless, he was reviled. He’d been foolish and childish to have ever thought otherwise. The brief period he’d spent with his sisters in the mending ward had almost made him relax and lower his guard. He chastised himself for being so weak. They didn’t love him. They loved his class, his power. His potential to perform tasks for them, as well as the fact that his newfound status would erase the stain he’d made on their family’s legacy by simply existing. Velri probably cared far more about that than she ever "loved" him.

Years ago, he had thought continuing his training and education would earn his family’s love, or at least their respect, but the most he’d ever gotten were pitying looks from Rila, the younger sister he’d looked after and protected from Velri’s overbearing attitude, and nurtured while their parents were out adventuring.

His twin, Brynn, who was supposed to be closer to him than all others, had never once helped. And now she was openly courting Clevis, the man he hated most, who had sought to avenge his constant defeats against Julian in childhood by insinuating himself into his life and torturing him, knowing that Julian could never hope to fairly defend himself. His sisters and parents had done nothing to stop him. He doubted they cared enough to be aware. Perhaps on some level they allowed it to happen out of a desire to see him suffer for the shame he had brought upon them. He would not hold his breath for a freely-made apology.

Alone, he’d sought refuge in the various books in the Imerdan library and from the many bookstores and libraries within Rona. He had learned a great deal over the years. In knowledge he had found a reprieve; a sort of distance between the world in which the people who’d once loved him had occupied.

Julian could still feel the remnants of his boyhood love for his family. It felt like the shed skin of a snake that hadn’t completely separated yet. His love dragged behind his heart and mind like a wheelless wagon, digging into the ground and slowing his progress to a halt.

It was useless to cling to the past, he knew. Better to sever it and move on. He had power now. He could move anywhere and establish himself as an adventurer of repute. And he wouldn’t have to deal with his family’s control or his mother’s punishments. He could be free. Izel would be with him, too, unburdened by the very real possibility of his mother deciding that having a Necromancer around the estate posed too great a risk and had her killed.

Cold anger swept through him like a Tyrai sea storm.

Mother didn’t care about me one bit until I classed. She only kept me around because throwing me out onto the streets to be preyed upon by other classless people might have brought even more shame to the family. If I’d left of my own volition, maybe she would have allowed it, as long as I stayed away from Rona and did nothing to attract anyone’s notice. Now that I’ve classed, now that I have potential, she will never let me out of her sight. She wants me around, badly. Just threatening to sever my ties to her was enough to convince her to tolerate Izel as my consort. A huge risk to her and House Imerdan should Izel’s true nature come to light. Perhaps the potential ramifications of being disowned by her only son after I finally managed to class was too much for her to bear. I still can’t believe she was using Izel to infiltrate Rona’s classless movement, refusing to enforce one of the Empire’s most sacred laws just so she could have a pawn who would do anything to avoid certain execution or imprisonment in one of the worst places on the continent. Mother is even more hypocritical than I could have imagined. How unfortunate that she couldn’t apply those flexible principles towards giving me a loving childhood despite my classless status.

“Ms. Jonworn, do you have other duties?” Brianna’s voice jolted him from his thoughts. He looked at her again, his eyes tracing over her form. She truly was a magnificent specimen of a woman. Tall and muscular, yet irrevocably feminine. Her hair was tied into a long braid that went down almost to the small of her back.

Izel’s whispered words reverated in his mind, and he wondered if he could bring himself to use Brianna. To violate the woman’s marriage and vows, and twist everything she believed in to serve him.

His heart thumped heavily in chest. He swallowed, imagining what she would be like in bed. He wanted to hear her strict, authoritative voice submissively cry out his name as she begged him to fuck her.

Julian looked away.

No. I… she’s married. Her husband doesn’t deserve it and neither does Brianna. She treated me better than most. Even if she only did it out of respect for my parents, it at least deserves… consideration. Perhaps I will only go so far as to ensure her loyalty and make her look the other way while I spend time at the estate. She is quite powerful and could also be used to fight whatever battles I need her to fight.

“Not currently, my lady,” Ebbeth replied. Julian looked at her, taking in her appearance. Ebbeth had been one of the bright spots of his life. She had always looked out for him and cared for him, filling the void his parents and sisters had left. Had she done so out of love or simply duty? If he’d been an orphaned classless boy on the street and came to her, would she have taken him in? Nurtured him? Or would she have ignored him?

The questions were like poison in Julian’s mind, sickening him. He wanted to believe that Ebbeth loved and cared about him, but he also knew that love was inherently conditional and transactional. If he weren’t the son of Krevos and Maela Imerdan, Ebbeth would be under no obligation to care for him, and so she wouldn’t. It would be impossible for her to love him.

I should have taken one of the Skills that allowed me to perceive the thoughts of others. Then I’d know for sure.

He drew a shuddering breath as he tried to externalize his feelings for her, yet they persisted.

I’m weak. Too afraid to accept the cold, hard truth. Ebbeth only cares about me because it’s her duty to take care of me. Failure on her part would mean shame and certain punishment.

He deeply wished that Focus worked outside combat. He longed for the cold, unfeeling invulnerability of its armor around his soul. Oddly enough, he had never felt more comfortable in his life than when he was fighting for his survival. It was during those moments that he had been the most calm and in control of himself, and he desired control above all else.

Brianna said, “Show Julian’s consort back to the domestic servant quarters. See that she is properly attired and given a mop.” She gave Izel an appraising look, as if trying to get the measure of her. Her eyes flicked back to Ebbeth.

“She’ll be cleaning the manor floors today. The rest of her duties I leave to your discretion, but if I find that you’re not making proper use of her or that she’s shirking her responsibilities, I will assign her duties myself,” Brianna continued, her gaze hardening.

At Julian’s side, Izel's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. Julian was sure she was wondering exactly how vindictive Brianna could be if she incurred her ire.

Julian tilted his chin upward, trying to ascertain Brianna’s intentions. The tall female Barbarian ignored him.

Ebbeth bowed slightly. “As you command, Lady Brianna.”

Approaching Izel, Ebbeth bowed again and said, “Lady Izel, if you’ll follow me…”

“I’ll be right with you,” Izel said. She cast a lingering glance towards Julian. She gave him a wink. “I guess I’ll see you tonight. Try not to get yourself in too much trouble without me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I was going to say the same thing to you.”

“Oh, I know how to behave. When I need to,” she said. The amusement in her eyes didn’t dim.

Julian watched as Ebbeth led Izel from the room, his eyes inevitably flickering to their rears which swayed and jiggled as they walked. He tore his gaze from them quickly, conscious of Brianna and the nearby servants watching him. The servants spoke to each other in hushed whispers. Julian tried to ignore them.

Brianna watched him expectantly, waiting for him to speak. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I… uh, I’m ready for whatever assignment you have prepared for me, Brianna,” he said, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Brianna glowered at him, though her stance had relaxed somewhat. It was as if she had expected him to beg or try to plead his case and waste as much time as possible to forestall what she had planned for him in the immediate future.

Can we just get this over with, Captain?

“We shall see,” she replied ambivalently, her tone neutral. “Today, you will be assisting Yannor Stask and his family as they harvest wheat. Yannor’s eldest son has come down with an illness, so he probably needs an extra pair of hands. That should keep you occupied for the remainder of the day, but if for some reason you finish early or Yannor has no use for you, I will be going around the estate making inquiries. There are bound to be plenty of people here who'd be glad to have a free set of hands perform unpleasant tasks for them."

Julian winced. Even though he knew Brianna would be working him hard, the reality of it had not truly set in until now.

“I see. Is there anything else I should know?” he asked, resigned. He had considered weaving a Suggestion to **** Brianna to give him a less intensive assignment, but he wasn’t sure how closely Reyna or his mother would be watching them. For all he knew, the assignment may have come from his mother herself. Any deviation might raise questions.

The Barbarian crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

“A few things. I think it goes without saying that I will be watching you, so don’t even think of attempting to wield your newfound classed status against anyone on the estate. You will follow the directions of whoever I assign you to without complaint,” she said, a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. She probably thought he was supposed to think the idea of taking orders from classless commoners was humiliating. He wanted to laugh. What did Brianna Ulner know of humiliation? She had classed when she was supposed to, had a family that loved her and an enviable position in society. Until now, her service to the Imerdans had been impeccable. Even her recent demotion was by no means permanent. That Julian’s mother still trusted Brianna enough to redeem herself by supervising Julian’s punishment meant she had confidence that Brianna would earn her position back, and be humbled by the experience and mercy shown. Brianna had not had to watch as everyone she knew classed without her, leaving her behind like discarded refuse.

He hadn't even realized he nodded.

“Any slacking off or dilly-dallying or disobedience of any kind would be very unwise,” Brianna warned, her jaw tightening sternly.

"I know," he said.

Brianna led him outside. Cool, crisp morning air kissed his exposed skin. The sun had begun to rise, casting brilliant orange-red light into the sky, making the scattered clouds appear as if they were wreathed in fire.

Two horses had been prepared for them by the domestic servants. They got on and rode away from the manor, further into the property. They passed the forested area Julian had escaped through a mere day ago. His eyes traced the treeline longingly. Beyond it lay the wall separating the estate from the areas surrounding Rona, and freedom. He thought about Joanna Greenhart, the Potioner he’d met on the road, of her invitation to visit her in Hylan. It wasn’t too far away by horse; a minimum two days’ ride if one kept a steady pace.

Four days of travel total, plus a day spent in Hylan at the minimum. I wish Joanna had mentioned which village she was from. It’s possible I might be able to find out by asking around. People like her who class in areas like Hylan tend to become the centers of their communities. She’s the only one I know who makes those focus potions. Having them on hand could be very handy. Meditation might help with my WP regeneration rate, but it’s not something I can use in the midst of battle.

Julian grit his teeth and gripped the reins of his horse as they crossed a wooden bridge that stretched over a shallow stream. He’d been unhorsed more than once because the one he was riding had panicked. Thankfully, this horse proceeded without issue. Its hooves clanked loudly on the wood until they crossed, then thudded against the dirt path they traveled down. Grass and forestry soon gave way to a large open clearing where fields of yellow wheat shifted under a gentle breeze. Various homes, farmhouses, and other structures dotted the landscape, and he could see people moving about them distantly. Through the entire ride, Brianna kept silent except to bark out directions when they came to a fork in the path.

Dawn soon gave way to morning. The fire-orange in the sky melted away into oceanic cerulean. Clouds, puffy and white, drifted aimlessly through the heavens.

Brianna led him to a wheatfield where less than ten people had gathered. They were a mix of men and women who looked to be in early adulthood to middle-aged. Their simple cloth garb placed them as commoners. The majority of them held reapers or sickles in their hands as they combed through wheat stalks almost as tall as Rila, gathering it as part of the latest harvest. A wagon and horse idled nearby.

The commoners stopped working and looked up as Brianna and Julian approached. Their eyes roved over the two of them curiously. Most were men, but Julian noticed a beautiful young woman among them. She had light auburn hair and vibrant blue eyes which found him almost instantly. She looked to be about his age. Maybe slightly older. She wiped her brow as she clutched a well-used sickle in her calloused hands. Her eyes found his and her lips curved into a friendly smile. He returned the smile with one of his own, his pulse quickening at the sight of her. She wore a faded blue dress and long-sleeved white undershirt that covered most of her smooth, fair skin that was dotted with faint freckles.

One of the commoners walked up to Julian and Brianna. He was middle-aged; his reddish-brown hair was graying and his face was worn and slightly wrinkled. A nasty burn scar marred the right side of his jawline, continuing down his neck. He had a strong build that spoke of years of toil and manual labor. His blue eyes regarded Brianna respectfully as he bowed.

This must be Yannor.

“Lady Brianna, what can I do for you?” he greeted her. His voice was calm and respectful. His eyes swept over Julian, widening with recognition. He straightened instantly. “My lord!”

A collective gasp came over the commoners, and each hurried to bow.

“That’s Julian Imerdan! I heard he just classed!” He heard someone whisper. A murmur went through the commoners then. Two young men with auburn hair and bright blue eyes flanked the pretty girl on either side. From their resemblance, he thought they might have been siblings or cousins.

Julian swallowed as he felt nine pairs of eyes on him, examining. Judging. They would surely have expectations of him now. Again, he wished he could simply disappear.

Brianna sighed and dismounted her horse with a fluid grace that belied her size and musculature. Her boots thudded against dirt.

“Good morning Yannor,” Brianna said, forcing a smile. “Lord Julian has been assigned by Lady Maela to assist the needy on his family’s estate. It was difficult to decide where to bring him first, but then I remembered that you said Evin was ill.”

The middle-aged man's gaze immediately flickered over Julian. His eyes studied him clinically, but not coldly.

He’s probably wondering what I’ve done to merit being “assigned” to help classless laborers.

Yannor faced Brianna.

“I see. Well, it’s true. With Evin bedridden, our harvest is going slower than it usually would,” he said, and glanced at Julian for a few moments, like he mentally weighing his decision. Finally, he nodded. “Very well then. How long will I have the pleasure of Lord Julian’s assistance?”

Brianna hummed. She stood next to her horse, her arms crossed beneath her breasts, causing them to strain against her minimalistic outfit.

“For the rest of the day, if you want him. I’m going to be inquiring with people around the estate to see if anyone else might need his help. Depending on what I learn, he may be assigned to assist others tomorrow and the days after. If you find him useful, let me know and I’ll make sure he’s assigned to help you more often,” she said kindly, her eyes glimmering with something akin to respect.

They know each other well, it seems, though I guess that’s not surprising. As Captain of the Guard, Brianna wouldn’t have just been protecting the estate from trespassers. She would have also been in charge of enforcing the peace among the commoners who live here.

“Thank you. You are most generous, my lady,” Yannor said gruffly. He faced Julian and crossed his arms expectantly. “Come now, my lord.”

Nodding, Julian moved to dismount his horse.

Shit!

His left foot caught in the saddle and he fell to the ground with a thud. Pain lanced down his right arm. He thought he heard one of the commoners laugh before Yannor’s voice quieted them.

Godsdammit. Way to make a good first impression, Julian.

Grumbling, Julian stood shakily, dusting himself off. The commoners and Brianna were staring at him. Like magic, all the wonderment they had at the revelation of his identity had vanished off their faces. Now, most of them looked amused, though perhaps that wasn't a bad thing. The auburn-haired girl in particular seemed to be struggling not to smile, as were the two young men who Julian was pretty sure were her brothers. Or at least, her cousins.

“What are you louts gawking at? Back to work!” Yannor barked. The commoners scurried back into the wheatfield almost instantly, chattering quietly among themselves. Julian felt a surge of gratitude for the man. Yannor approached him and looked him over. His voice lowered somewhat. “Are you well, my lord?”

Julian **** himself to smile. His arm still throbbed painfully, but he’d be damned if he showed it.

“I’m fine. Just tell me what I need to do," he said.

A bit of rustling drew Julian’s attention to Brianna as she mounted her horse.

“I must be off. When I return, let me know if Lord Julian gives you any reason to be dissatisfied with his service and I’ll see that he’s assigned elsewhere. It was good to see you again, Yannor," she said.

Yannor gave her a parting bow. “And you, my lady. Stop by anytime.”

Brianna smiled. Her expression darkened when she glanced at Julian, a hot anger flickering in her eyes. An anger that told him in no uncertain terms that if Yannor gave her a less than stellar report and his performance, he would not like what happened afterward.

“I shall see you later, Brianna,” he said.

She met his gaze for a few moments before turning her horse around and urging it down the dirt pathway. They took off in a gallop towards a farmstead in the distance. Julian followed her progress for a few moments before turning to Yannor.

The man was tall and lean, with sun-kissed skin that spoke of years toiling in the fields. He wore a slightly torn gray shirt and a pair of loose black trousers. His blue eyes continued to appraise him.

“Follow me.” His voice was quiet, but somehow carried more authority than any of Velri’s yells. “There’s spare tools in the wagon.”

Julian followed him automatically towards the wagon. Along the sides were large metal clamps that seemed designed for holding various implements. All were empty. Yannor reached into the back of the wagon and grabbed a small sickle. He handed it to Julian. The wooden handle was smooth to the touch, and the blade gleamed in the sunlight.

Years of training took over as he instinctively tested the weight, imagining using it as a weapon. He gave it an experimental swing. An image of Valda’s lifeless, separated head flickered through his mind.

I really like the weight of this thing. I wonder how much damage I could inflict with it if I used it in conjunction with Piercing Field.

“Gods, be careful with that!” Yannor chided him, grasping his arm.

“Sorry, Master Yannor,” he muttered. Yannor let him go and Julian let his arm fall to his side.

“Just call me Yannor. Titles make my skin itch terribly. No offense, my lord,” he said, a small, reassuring smile playing at his lips.

Julian grinned, warmth blossoming in his chest. He hadn't thought he would end up liking the man.

Yannor looked towards the field, where eight commoners were working, using scythes and sickles to cut bundles of wheat and gather them in a growing pile. The girl and the two boys would look towards Julian every so often, and chatter amongst themselves.

“Sarrah, Hendran, Jorric, come here now!” Yannor called out.

The girl and two boys stared at Yannor for a few moments before hurrying over. The girl’s eyes lingered on him.

One of the boys, slightly taller than the other, spoke. “You need something, Dad?”

Julian appraised them. The boys were muscular, their hands calloused from years of outdoor labor. The girl seemed softer, but the confident glint in her eyes told him that she was no less a stranger to work than her brothers.

So, Yannor's their father. I wonder what that must be like, to be able to spend the entire day working with your family.

“Lord Julian’s going to be helping us with our harvest today,” Yannor said. Their eyes widened with surprise.

"Truly? Why would a… a noble want to be doing peasants’ work?” the girl said, disbelief evident in her tone. She looked like she wanted to ask something else, but restrained herself, biting her lip.

Yannor’s blue eyes glimmered fondly as he surveyed his children. Julian couldn’t help but envy the three of them. At least they had a parent who actually seemed to care about them, even if it was only because he needed them as labor. His lips curved into a wistful smile.

“Calm yourself, Sarrah,” he said gently. “Hm. I can tell none of you is going to be productive while Lord Julian’s here. Don’t even bother denying it. You’ve been staring at him nonstop since Lady Brianna brought him. Take him with you into the field and teach him how we harvest. You can satiate your curiosity while you work.”

The girl, Sarrah, swallowed. Her eyes met his once again before looking away. Her cheeks were flushed.

Yannor left Julian with the Sarrah and the two boys, walking back to the wheatfield to join the others who were working diligently.

“I’m Jorric, my lord.” The tallest boy said. He had short, light brown hair and deep blue eyes. He smiled and elbowed the boy next to him. “And that’s Hendran, my younger brother. As you've probably guessed, that’s Sarrah, my sister. Don’t worry about her. She tends to get really shy when Dad introduces her to unmarried men. And even some married ones.”

Sarrah glared at her older brother and put her hands on her hips.

“I do not!” Her cheeks were beet-red as her eyes narrowed into angry slits.

“And there’s that charming attitude I’ve come to know and love. Good to have you back, Sarrah,” Jorric said. To his side, Hendran grinned.

Sarrah crossed her arms beneath her breasts and glared at him.

“Fool idiot!” she snapped at him. "I’ll strangle you in your sleep!”

“Keep screaming like that and I’ll gladly off myself!” Jorric retorted, covering his ears.

Julian couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Sarrah blurted angrily. Then her eyes grew wide as saucers. “Oh, I’m sorry, my lord.”

The other boy, Hendran, snorted. He spoke quietly, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Nicely done.”

Julian shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. In truth, he was grateful for the candid display. It had reminded him of better times, when he and his own siblings had laughed and joked and played easily. Back when he still believed in love.

It seems like these three still do.

He felt an odd, protective feeling surge within him.

“You don’t have to trouble yourself with the usual titles or etiquette around me. I’m here to learn how the people on my family’s lands live their lives. It’ll be much easier to do that if you pretend I’m just another commoner,” Julian said, holding his hands up placatingly.

Sarrah gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat. She was beautiful, and despite how her outfit hid her slender form, he couldn’t help but imagine what she looked like unclothed. It probably wouldn’t take much to make that happen. She already seemed interested in him. He doubted he’d even need to use Suggestion to bed her if he wanted.

I shouldn’t… I already have Izel. From the way she looked at me this morning, she’ll be ready and willing when I see her tonight.

“As you command, my l – er, Julian.” Her cheeks flushed cutely.

Hendran nudged Jorric, who grinned.

“Well, if you wanted to learn more about us commoners, you couldn’t have picked a better family to get started with. We Stasks have been farmers for generations,” Jorric said. He gestured towards the wheatfield. His smile was friendly and proud. “Follow us, we’ll make a harvester out of you, yet.”

---

Noraan paused as he surveyed their prey. A large, strong buck. He stood in a clearing in the trees, its tail twitching slightly. It was morning, but the forestry was so thick that the golden waves of sunlight barely reached the forest floor. Beside him, his brother Kylac readied his bow. He drew an arrow, took a deep breath, and fired.

The arrow sliced through the silence of the deep forest like a knife through hot butter at speeds almost as fast as he could perceive. To a classless person, it would be as if the arrow had left the bow and appeared through the deer’s neck, severing the head clean from the body in a burst of red. Warm red blood gushed from the neck onto the forest floor as the body slumped, dead.

“Well done,” Noraan said proudly. He and his brother were elves. Fresh from passing their initiation ceremonies, they had become full-fledged adventurers. Originally from large village south of Cam-Nedion, they had migrated north to seek training from the guilds that headquartered in Rona. It was a less safe, more untamed area of the Empire where the prospect of danger lingered within reach.

To the north were the ruins of Serithar, where orcs and goblins resided and bred and launched periodic invasions south that were repeatedly rebuffed by forces stationed in Rona. The latest and most powerful in centuries might have swallowed up the northern reaches of Aemar had it not been for the actions of Krevos and Maela Imerdan, who had stemmed the progress of the bloodthirsty armies of the feared Kethok, Ilduth of the Greensun Horde.

West eventually led to Nyros, and the abomination of a government that had been installed there, where prominent noble families had been struck down and deprived of their belongings, paraded naked in the streets and humiliated before a baying, bloodthirsty mob led by classed traitors.

“Thank you, brother.” Kylac grinned. They made their way over to the deer. It would sustain them while they made their trek north into Serithar, killing monsters as they went.

Noraan didn’t see their hunter until it was too late. A limb the color of black oil erupted from Kylac’s chest. His brother gurgled and clutched the limb that had skewered his torso for but a moment before the light faded from his violet eyes.

“No!” Noraan drew his own bow and beheld the creature that felled his brother. It was half as large as the wooden cottage he’d been born in. It stood on four limbs. Its fifth held his brother. Bright, trapezoid-shaped eyes gazed back at him. Cold, lifeless, calculating, and frighteningly intelligent. They didn’t seem anchored to any one point of the monster’s bulbous, oval-shaped body. Its eyes drifted across its body seamlessly, and then melded together, forming a hexagon. Noraan heard a buzzing in his mind. Then whispers. Laughter. He saw the face of his lover Tanelia as she smiled at him from the opposite side of his bed, her long blonde splashing down her shoulders.

Noraan's hands twitched and dropped his bow, seemingly of their own volition. He forgot about the body of his brother as the monster held it up, the limb pulsing as Kylac’s body was drained of life and energy before being tossed away carelessly like waste.

Blank-faced, Noraan shambled towards the monster. Its now-single multicolored eye stared at him, bidding him forward. He obeyed. When one of the monster’s limbs pierced his chest, he smiled, his mind teeming with images of his family surrounding him, hugging him, loving him. Noraan was consumed in the same manner his brother had been, his desiccated body thrown into the forest where it would be forgotten.

The pentaped paused for a moment, not quite satiated. It was easier to hunt the fleshy two-limbed beings when they were far away from their habitat. Some of them were stronger than others, like the two it had just devoured. The ambush had been carefully planned and flawlessly executed. It had gorged itself on their bodies, yet dissatisfaction coursed through it. It had almost been killed more than once by stronger specimens, but it had sensed none since the time of the Creators that possessed the spark that allowed them to perceive the cold space the pentaped drew upon for power. It had hunted through sand and forest and mountain for longer than it could remember, but something had drawn it south. A siren call from within the cold space the two-legged beings weren’t aware of, where thought and reality were one.

It had felt it. South. A bright light amongst the two-legged beings, after so long. South. Such power. South.

The pentaped’s kind were rare, hunted, driven to the furthest corners of the world where the two-legged beings would fear to wander, but it had been drawn here despite the danger by the promise of prey it had not tasted in countless moons. South.

Psion.

It was the only word it still knew. It was power. It was prey. It was somewhere south.

The pentaped’s black, oily form vanished like ink from parchment and it resumed its journey.

---

Julian Imerdan (lv. 7 Psion)

HP: 142/142

ST: 119/119

WP: 470/470

Skills...

Attributes…

Effects…

Julian's Skills

[Manipulation] Suggestion (cost: 20 WP) - Telepathically implant a suggestion in the mind of a target to influence or induce an action, thought, or emotion.

[Manipulation] Hypnosis (cost: 30 WP) – Lull someone into a hypnotic trance. Requires the use of a pendant or other foci to draw the target’s gaze.

[Affliction] Mind Jab (cost: 15 WP) – Project a weak bolt of psionic energy that attacks the mind of an opponent, causing crippling mental pain that lasts for a few moments.

[Affliction] Psi-Bolt (cost: 5 WP) – Emit an unguided bolt of psionic energy that inflicts low Psi damage to a target upon impact. It deals moderate Psi damage against targets affected by Mind Jab, but clears them of the status.

[Connection] Detect Mind (cost: 2 WP/s) – Focus your awareness outward to detect the minds of sentient organic beings within ten feet.

[Connection] Connect Mind (cost: 5 WP) – Choose two minds glimpsed with Detect Mind and link them together for a time, allowing a psionic Skill used on one mind to affect the other.

[Matter] Piercing Field (cost: 15 WP) – Imbue a weapon or projectile within range with an impossibly narrow telekinetic field, allowing it to cut through armor. The field dissipates after a single attack.

[Knowledge] Safe Fall (cost: free) - You have learned how to shift your body mid-air to significantly mitigate falling damage.

[Knowledge] Meditation (cost: free) - Clear your thoughts and retreat into an introspective state within your own mind. Your WP regeneration is significantly increased while meditating. Meditation is a viable substitute for the equivalent amount of sleep.

[Innate] Focus (cost: free) - When in combat, enter a state of emotional detachment which allows you to ignore pain and resist negative mental effects.

Julian’s Attributes

Human - As a member of the human species, your body is more resilient than most other sapient races.

Magical Ancestry - Several of your ancestors possessed powerful magical abilities and talents. The barest hint of their talent resides within you, granting you easier use of magical items.

Psionic - You are capable of affecting physical and nonphysical reality through Will alone. You are resistant to mental effects and psionic damage. You can perceive all spectrums of psionic energy.

Fardreamer - While you sleep, you may randomly send your mental awareness to another place in the universe.

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