James Mailon, Psion

Authors Note: I am an amateur writer, emphasis on amateur. I only write for my own enjoyment, and do not aspire to be a professional. This story fork may continue, or I may loose interest. If anyone reads this and enjoys it, and wants me to continue. Leave a comment, knowing someone wants to read it helps a lot in the motivation department.

Second. If I have an idea I like to get it down, and deal with editing later(if ever). So expect the odd typo, far, too, many, comma's, or the odd incorrect word(when auto correct gives me a similarly spelled word and I wasn't paying attention when I clicked it) etc.

Enjoy.

"Next!" a gruff and bored voice called from up ahead.

I stared down the long line of people as they shuffled forward in front of me, my chest once again filling with the weight of depressed resignation that had been living with me for all too long now. Six months I'd been in the big city, you know the big city. Lothrane, capitol of the Valorn Kingdom. Six months looking for answers. I went to the guilds, the libraries, the royal guards, everywhere. I did everything, opening every book, bending every ear. Six months! And now here I am.... sigh. Oh how hopeful I was when I first walked through those gates. Filled with pride and purpose, so sure I was on the cusp of greatness. Nothing could stop me, I was going to live a grand life, full of dreams and wonder! ...and here I am now.

With another sigh I shuffled forward my allotment once the line's movement caught up with me. Taking another glance down the line to the recruitment table, and suppressing yet another sigh.

Two years ago today I turned 16 and awakened to my class. It was a bit later than most. Ok a lot later than most, but it finally happened! I was classed, and the world was supposed to be my oyster. Only no one knew what my class was. No one in my village had ever even heard of it before. Most of the other kids my age awakened to nice, sensible classes. Like Farmer, Herder, Carpenter, Herbalist. Sure nothing glamorous, but at least they knew what their classes were. They had teachers, and mentors to get them started. Jobs and lives to look forward to. To think I looked down on them when I awakened. Thinking I was so superior to their mundane classes.

I looked down the line again, this time surprising a groan.

Of course I was ecstatic when I classed. Sure I didn't know what the hell my class was, and had no one to induct me, but the class sounded so cool and important. Psion! I wanted to scream it to the world and proclaim "I'm here!". However it may be a surprise to you, if you awakened with a nice normal class. That without a mentor, or really any idea what your class is. You can't do anything with it. There's this little thing called initiation that most people don't even notice. It's what starts them down the path on their class. For example if you awaken as a Herder, just go find some animals and herd them. Carpenter? Grab some wood and hammer/saw/glue it. It's this first act, doing what your class is for, that gives you your first bit of experience and fully unlocks your class. Most people don't even think about it, because it's never an issue. Of course a Farmer should farm. That is of course unless like me, you awaken to a class no one has ever heard of before.

So I packed my meager belongings, and headed out into world to claim my destiny. You might think it would be sad just up and leaving home like that at the age of 16, but I didn't really have anything keeping me there. I was an orphan after all. Don't get me wrong, the folks in my home town were great, and everyone pitched in to make sure I had a roof, and cloths, and got raised right. But there was always a sense of distance between me and everyone else, I was an outsider. It only got worse when all the other kids started classing, and I didn't. There was nothing overt, no one bullied me, or shunned me, or anything like that. It was in the looks they gave me. The ones that said, "I don't know what to do with you", and the sudden free time I had all alone while the other kids were starting their mentoring. It just served to widen that sense of distance, and cement me being an outsider. I didn't belong.

So off I went. I offered my services to a local trader, taking care of his horses and cart in exchange for a ride to the city. He even paid me a few coppers for a job well done when we arrived. I thanked him and immediately set to work. So sure I was about to find all the answers. After all, if the answers didn't exist in the city where would they? Oh how naive I was. But I learned. The city wasn't the only city, and it wasn't even that big for a city. It's ok to judge me, but just know that I had lived my entire live in a small village. The city was always a huge mystical place to me that had everything, and was bigger than anything. I know how silly that is now.

Not finding what I was looking for I found a caravan headed out to the next city, and hired on with them as a helping hand. I was hard work, much harder than taking care of a single wagon and horse but I didn't care. It was the most rewarding work I'd ever done, because it was taking me to where I needed to be. No matter how tired I was at the end of the day, I would always make time to walk the caravan and talk to everyone. I asked everyone if they'd ever heard of my class, or knew who might have. The answer was always no, but I didn't get discouraged. I would find the answer eventually.

The next city, while bigger and busier had no answers for me. Neither did the next, or the next, or the next. Each time I'd scour every corner of the city, knock on every door, visit every tavern. I'd talk to everyone and read everything. When I exhausted all sources of information I'd move on. Sometimes hiring on with a merchant or caravan, and sometimes making the trip on foot, but always moving forward. The answers had to be out there and I was going to find them!

Then finally after a year and a half, going from city to city. Working jobs no one else wanted; often dealing with animal shit, to earn my keep or my passage. I arrived at the Capitol. Sure that I was going to find answers. I learned a lot in the last six months. I learned about so many classes that I'd never heard of before, just not about mine. The closest I got to any information was from the mages guild who had and old record of my class. However it was only a fragment of a sentence in an old manuscript that had rotted with age. Still it was something! After all this time, finally some proof that my class exists!

So I spent months working for the guild, toiling in the archives. I'd organize and clean all the old dusty records no one cared about from dawn to the twilight hours of the night just to be allowed access to basic knowledge scrolls on the various mage classes. I was sure there would be a hint in there somewhere, or perhaps I'd be able to try something 'magey' and at least get my class initiated. But my efforts were doomed to failure. Not only did I find no other mention of my class, or initiate it by accident. After 4 months the guild archives were spotless and the guild, no longer needing my services unceremoniously kicked me out.

For a while I was depressed and frustrated. My firm belief that I would find the answers somewhere finally starting to shake and diminish. In a fit of anger I decided that if my Kingdom didn't have the answer and wouldn't help me, I'd just go to another one. After all, it's not like the Kingdom ever did anything for me. Only it's not that easy to just cross the border. Not only is crossing into another Kingdom heavily regulated, but even if you sneak across the border chances are good you'll be rounded up and executed as a spy the second you can't present any identification. Yeah, it turns out we were not on very good terms with our neighbors.

There were ways to cross the border of course, but they all required specific classes, and most required oaths of service and fealty. Merchants for example could cross pretty much freely, provided they had the class, the goods, and the contracts. Merchant's crossing the border were only allowed to bring classed apprentices, or Kingdom sanctioned and classed guards though. Which prevented me from just hiring out to a merchant caravan that was leaving the Kingdom.

There was only one option left, and I was loath to take it. Mercenary contract. Mercenary companies would take anyone who could hold a sword, and mercenary companies could be hired out by anyone, even other kingdoms. Since they were responsible for monster extermination, and couldn't be used interkingdom struggles or war. A mercenary company caught meddling in Kingdom affairs would be hunted to extermination by every kingdom. So that meant they were free to cross borders an hunt nasties. Goblins, orcs, trolls. Big fucking nasty mangy wolves that probably shoot magical syphilis at you. Dirty, dangerous work. The life expectancy of a mercenary without a combat class was 12 months, 6 of which was usually training and logistics. Which meant, the vast majority of mercenaries without combat classes die on their first mission.

"Next!" The gruff bored voice boomed from directly in front of me. Looks like it was my turn.