Of Guilt and Great Potential

John just let himself in. With how close his grandparents’ home was to his own, that had long since become the usual way of doing things when he came to visit. Their house was a comfortable place for him to be, feeling as familiar, safe and homey as his own house. Hell, there had even been a time where it felt more like home than his actual home, but he didn’t like to dwell on those years.

Between Sam’s woodworking hobby and a variety of embroidery, crocheting and other crafts of fabric and thread made by Liz, the decor consisted entirely of handmade things and pictures in handmade frames. Hell, even some of the furniture was a product of their joint efforts.

Overall, the place was quite cozy. Cozier even than his own home despite his mom’s best efforts, though that said more about his gran than it did Brenda. John wasn’t quite sure how much of that was nostalgia for being spoiled when visiting as a child and how much was about the actual furnishings. Actually, now that he thought about it, there was another option as well…

Throwing Observes at the stuff confirmed that at least part of it was down to the third option. He found two Gifts of Lasting Love, one made by each of his grandparents, and a picture frame around a 20ish years old picture of his mom, aunts, and uncle with a natural enchantment that increased feelings of comfort and coziness in the room by 5%. Looking at the picture, John could easily understand how his dad had fallen for his mom back then just by her looks, to say nothing of her kind and caring nature.

John shook off those thoughts, seeing as he was here for an actual reason. A bit of him couldn’t help but wonder what made him ponder these things today in particular. Was it the contrast of the Abyss and the need to analyze it that had brought him to analyze the mundane aspects of his life as well? Or was he simply subconsciously trying to avoid thinking about what he was actually here for?

In any case, he found Liz in the living room. When he entered, she put down her knitting. “Hello John. Would you like some tea?”

She was already getting out of her chair as John began to answer, “That’d be nice, but, uh, I’m not staying long. I have to go meet a friend soon…”

She gave him a look that said she knew he was meeting a girl, but didn’t comment. Then she went into the kitchen and John took a seat. In the minutes it took for her to make the tea, he threw out more Observes at the decor. After all, he still had a Skill Quest for magical objects, currently sitting at 19/25, and natural enchantments counted.

He found another piece of room-cozyfying woodwork and another wooden Gift of Lasting Love before running out of stuff that either of his grandparents had made. He idly wondered why it seemed like his grandpa had made more naturally magical things than his grandma.

At the same time, he tossed an Observe at the framed item in the place of honor above the couch. It was also the one framed thing that wasn’t a family picture: a stainless steel drinking flask with a hole punched halfway through by a still-embedded piece of metal shrapnel. If things could gain natural enchantments after their creation, the flask that had saved Sam’s life in Vietnam was the best candidate John could think of.

Just as the Observe window appeared, however, Liz returned, so he let it fade for later. Not like it was all that important at the moment. She put the tea cups on a small table between her rocking chair and the armchair John had claimed.

“So, what brings you here when you have someone important to meet with?” The friendly tone completely discarded any interpretation of reproach that could have been drawn from the words themselves. Still, John couldn’t help but feel a small sting of guilt at just dropping by because he wanted something and then leaving. But it couldn’t be helped this time.

“I need advice but… There’s a lot of details in it that I can’t really tell, uh, more or less anyone. Not in good conscience at least…” Now that he said it out loud, he could hear himself how unworkable it sounded. He’d known from the start that it was going to be tricky, of course, but he hadn’t really realized how much.

Liz, however, just nodded understandingly. “I see. Try to put it in general terms then, and I will see what I can do. Best avoid personal details that aren’t yours to share, yes?”

“I have a… friend. And I realized that I did something by accident that I think she would consider a breach of trust, if she knew… But she won’t unless I tell her. And she has trust issues… I’m not sure there is anyone else she does trust, and if not… I don’t think it would be healthy for her not to have anyone she trusts at all…”

That all seemed to John like it’d be too vague and messy to make heads or tails of, to say nothing of the part where half of it was best guesses. But his grandma didn’t ask any questions, and while she looked thoughtful for a bit, she didn’t look confused.

After a minute or so, Liz broke out into a smile. It was a genuine, warm one but also a particular smile John knew meant she was about to say something he wouldn’t like, and she wanted to soften the blow.

“You have to tell her. In person and privately, but otherwise as soon as possible. She might not see it like this, especially at first, but trust is about decisions. Unless you chose to risk something you shouldn’t, an accident isn’t a breach of trust. But keeping it hidden after you realize the problem is.

“Even if you keep it to yourself until she has more people to lean on and she doesn’t learn it some other way, your guilt will eat at you until it drives a wedge between the two of you. With honesty, there is a chance she could forgive your accident, or even come to the decision that there is nothing that needs forgiveness after all. The sooner you tell her, the greater that chance.”

John reached for his cup again and slowly drained it as he mulled her words over. All the while, his grandma simply waited patiently with the same kindly smile on her face. What she said sounded true to John, at least in the general case.

With magic, the dangers of the Abyss, and a goddess in the picture, there were plenty of particulars that could turn things on their head. Yet as he considered each unusual detail in turn, he found that if anything they supported his grandma’s words of wisdom.

Cup empty, he put it down and nodded halfway to himself. “Thanks, Grandma, you’re the best. I think that was exactly what I needed.” He got up and took the half step over to give her a quick hug, then pulled back. “Sorry for running off so soon, but I’ve got to go before I lose my nerve.”

Liz snickered and pointed at the door. “It’s fine, John, go. You have more important things to do than entertain an old crone.”

“Yes ma’am,” John responded with a chuckle and left. On his way out, he took a look at the Observe window from the flask.

Flask of Fortunes (Damaged)
Epic Soulbound (Samuel Johnathan Miller) Item
Though physical damage has ruined the bulk of this flask’s enchantments, it still confers significant benefits to its soulbound owner.
+20% critical success chance
+10% critical success chance to allies within 10m of the flask.
-75% critical failure chance
-25% critical failure chance to allies within 10m of the flask.
Attributes: Luck, Protection
Durability: 3%

_‘Huh, it isn’t a natural enchantment, so it must be a deliberate one. Didn’t Grandpa get it as a gift from a friend originally? I think I need to ask him about it and look into that friend. But later. Talking to Qhila is a lot more urgent…’- - - - - -

_

Twenty minutes later, John was standing in the alley where Qhila’s nest was. He’d considered just heading inside and knocking when he got to the door to her actual home. Recalling the trap that he had seen and the number of redundant doors, he had decided to send her a message on the Abyss Auction instead.

It took all of a few minutes of John browsing memes, and sending one he hadn’t seen before to SirCumferece, before Qhila pushed the manhole cover away and climbed out.

“I have so-” That was a new kind of novel experience. For starters, he hadn’t actually consciously thought about using Low Draconic, apparently wanting to tell her something and knowing she would more easily communicate in that language was enough to do it on instinct.

Secondly, he’d expected speaking it to be mostly like understanding the language with the Babel Incense. It was not. Unlike the incense where he’d just understood the message and not the sounds, this way he understood every component and how they fit together. And he did so every bit as smoothly and easily as he did in English. He didn’t even need to think the line in English first and then translate it, he had jumped straight ahead to fluency.

“Draconic!? How??” Meanwhile, Qhila had gone wide eyed with surprise and confusion.

John elaborated with a smug smirk plastered on his face. “I went and got my hands on a Skill Book.”

While John didn’t mind the sight and sound of Qhila giggling up a storm like he’d just dropped some comedy gold, that was not the reaction he’d been going for. After a moment of him looking at her in confusion, she got it under enough control to speak. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just… You sound like a Text-to-Speech program from the bloody 90s.”

… Okay, he could see the amusing side to that. It was a bit disappointing too, though, especially after he’d just gotten excited about the full fluency. Which was clearly written on his face given what Qhila followed up with. “Don’t worry, it will probably wear off with use.”

There was a brief pause before she continued, “We should head down, instead of talking out here." While descending down the ladder, he realized that her speech had felt less stilted and clipped than with the Incense. In the end, it seemed, even the incense just wasn’t a true substitute for speaking the same language. Once they were both down, she asked, "What is a Skill Book though? Another RPG thing?”

“More or less…” John proceeded to explain the concept, the Skills he had gotten from them on Monday and the Academic Capacity limitation he’d discovered trying to learn Arithmancy. “... fortunately, Low Draconic could fit inside the limit with Alchemy and Biomancy.”

While Qhila had, much to John’s satisfaction, seemed quite impressed with the whole thing even after he mentioned the cap, that last comment brought a furrow to her brow. “So you spent some of your limited ability to learn _broad magical disciplines _in an _instant _in order to learn Low Draconic? Why?”

“Uh, because I figured that was your language…” He’d thought that much was obvious.

“Most unwise!” While the words were harsh and she was clearly doing her level best at an admonishing tone and expression, the former felt a tad overplayed and the latter failed to conceal a hint of blush and the upturned corners of her mouth. What that hinted at, her RS growing 8 points to 65 confirmed, at which point he was half expecting her to stomp her foot and call him ‘baka’. Actually, wasn't that pretty much what she just did call him?

“I guess I’ll just have to make up for it with the other overpowered bullshit I discovered then,” John replied with a smug grin, retrieving a few pseudodrake scales from his inventory and showing them to her. She raised a brow and took one to look more closely at and even sniff.

“Fresh pseudodrake scales? Did you buy a live one and put it in the ‘inventory’ storage you asked if I had an indicator for?”

“Nope. It’s fresh because my inventory puts stuff in stasis. I got it from a creature in a barrier I made yesterday afternoon.” John got a fraction of a second of anticipation to savor before the proverbial penny dropped. When it did, she took a half step back in surprise in addition to her eyes going wide.

“Bloody Hell, John! That is amazing! Risky too, but I don’t think Echoes can take control of a barrier, so as long as you’re ready to leave at a moment’s notice if something too powerful shows up, it should be okay.” Her surprise had turned to excitement, eyes alight with enthusiasm.

She was halfway turned to head further in, probably to get some gear and ask him to open one, when John decided to pull in at the next stop on the gravy train. “It’s not that risky, I get to filter what can pop up. The selection is small right now and growing it will take a bit of work, but we aren’t getting jumped by Medusa while farming snakes.”

That seemed to short-circuit her as she stopped completely in her tracks. After a moment, she spoke again, sounding like someone walking themselves through a difficult bit of math or something. “What you’re saying is that you can open a barrier to low-risk only Echoes. Then kill them to harvest resources without needing a Natural Barrier. And gain ‘EXP’ if I understood that right?” John nodded and she continued, “Then you can use that EXP to transmute yourself into a more powerful you. Again and again and again.”

She paused long enough for John to start opening his mouth to speak before she continued, in a tone like she could barely believe what she was saying, “By the Platinum Molt, John! If you can stay alive and free to grow for a couple of years, you’ll be a bloody Demigod…”

It was probably a good idea to cool her expectations a bit. “Well, the EXP needed to level up increases each time I do it, and there is usually a level cap somewhe-”

Your level cap is 500.

“500 apparently, that’s pretty high… It’s still probably going to take a lot of work per level past, like, 50 or something.”

“So a decade or two then. That is still monumental.” The disbelief had mostly left her tone, but the mixed excitement and awe remained. As well as hints of something else John couldn’t quite put his finger on.

But there was something else bugging him. “By the way, isn’t demigod something you have to be born as?”

“... Born as?” Qhila looked confused for a moment. “Oh. Right. Mundane vernacular. The most immensely powerful Abyssal demihumans, who can pose a threat even to the gods, are called Demigods. For a long time, people thought you would have to be a child of divinity to achieve that. When that was discovered to be wrong, the old term was firmly stuck. Most languages ended up using something else for actual half-mortal children of gods, like godspawn, godlings, heritors or [halfgods].” The last word had been in English, presumably having no direct Draconic equivalent.

“That makes sen- wait a second, you’re saying I’m gonna be godlike levels of powerful? Really??” John suddenly understood perfectly well Qhila’s excitement as he was feeling more or less the same himself.

“I’m not all that good at aura sensing, but if you can repeat the growth on Monday a hundred times, you’ll be at least on par with Orronth. So yes.” So Level 200-and-something then. That was going to take a while, but it was also a lot of incentive to keep at it.

“Awesome! And you know what makes it even more awesome? I got an achievement that confirms that you can get EXP from my stuff as well, so I get to take you along for the ride.”

That seemed to short-circuit her brain for the second time. “... Not just become a Demigod, but turn others into Demigods too…”

John rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, it might treat you more like a companion character than ‘Player 2’, which would mean you get less out of it in the long run, but still enough for you to matter in a fight.”

“That’s still…”

“Pretty sweet? I know, right. So let’s get EXP farming. Is there any gear you need to go get?”

That roused her from the semi-daze or whatever it was that the prospect of power leveling herself had put her in. At least enough so for her to nod and head further in, though she still seemed halfway lost in thought all the while.

While he waited, John’s own eagerness cooled down a little. Not to say that he wasn’t still stoked about becoming some kind of god-slaying badass, but it did get to the point where other thoughts and feelings could poke their head in, so to speak. Like his old ‘friend’ guilt.

Once he gave it a modicum of attention, it wasn’t hard to figure out why that feeling came up. After all, he had allowed something important that he had to tell Qhila to slip his mind. Slip his mind all too easily, as he had been much too happy to grasp for an excuse to stall on it. Even though she deserved better.

That was a bucket of figurative ice water to the face. Which meant when the kobold alchemist returned, John’s expression was substantially darker and more serious. He wasn’t really fully aware of the extent of the change until he saw the surprise and worry it prompted on hers.

“... Before we go, there’s something I need to tell you. And… if afterwards you don’t want to farm with me… or even… don’t want to have anything to do with me ever again… I understand.”

Looking at her increasingly confused and alarmed face grew too difficult, and he turned his gaze downward to his feet. But… the least he could do was look her in the eyes when he told her. He dug his nails painfully into his palm and used the brief pain to steel himself and **** his gaze back up.

“My system shows me something called… Relationship Scores. It’s… basically a measure of how much a person likes me, more or less. And when… When I got home Monday evening I saw that I had gotten an Achievement earlier. With a reward that… it included a huge amount of Relationship Score with you… 60 points, on a 200 point scale… Without it, you would have started a bit below 0…”