Of Questions and... Answers?

The Gamer shuddered as a chill ran down his spine.

Nervously, John sat up in the chair he’d been provided.

In truth, the explanation of the previous day’s events hadn’t gone as poorly as John might have feared. He had assumed that Moira’s father would wield the same imposing control of the conversation that she had; however, he had insisted that The Gamer complete his story in its entirety. In any less serious context, John would have laughed at watching Moira stew in the corner with questions.

On the other hand, Lord Brighton was impossible to read - a wall of quiet strength and stoicism. John was quickly growing exhausted with the constant need to maintain his composure. Talking to people in such a serious environment taxed his mental fortitude in a way only surpassed by his near-**** at the hands of the crabs.

’I wonder if that’s part of how I’ve made it this far?’ he wondered, looking out the window at the afternoon sun.

He closed his eyes and momentarily bathed in the warm oranges flowing through the room’s grand windows.

“A most intriguing tale,” the Lord-Protector’s voice disturbed John’s momentary recharge. “You say that these quests simply appear to you?"

Desperately, John clung to a few more precious seconds within his own mind before conceding to reality and replying.

"Um… Yeah, I guess they do?" he nervously replied. "They've just always kinda happened, usually after some event around me or maybe when I've done something?"

"And you just listen to them?" Moira chided, slight exasperation slipping through.

“I mean, what else was I supposed to do?” John shot back. “It's not like they were telling me to jump off a bridge or anything. Besides maybe the dungeon, everything else was pretty reasonable. ”

She scowled. "You have no idea where they came from! It could be a demon for all we know, or-"

"Moira."

Lord Brighton silenced the room, his voice a quiet roar - a deep baritone that left no room for further sound. John sat up straight and Moira snapped back to attention behind him.

"Leave the boy alone," he began, a smooth timbre mellowing out the previous harshness. "He has been sitting here, quaking in that chair, for the last half hour, explaining how his entire world was shaken yesterday."

The Lord-Protector turned to his daughter. "This is not an interrogation."

John shrank down in his chair, hiding from a chastisement that was not even his. Moira gulped and adjusted her posture - perhaps the first genuine sign of nervousness he'd ever seen in her. For a moment, she was just a girl, shrinking at her father's disapproval.

"I am sorry, Father," she said, almost meekly, not meeting his eyes.

The faintest hints of a smile threatened the older man's stoicism. "You should apologize to him."

"I… am sorry. It's not fair to assume you would be aware of the dangers."

John nodded back. "Uh. It's OK. It's not like I thought everything through either."

The Lord-Protector turned back to face John once more. "Now, you may continue with your questions."

Now, it was surprise on the young Warden's face. "Father?"

"This is a good exercise. He is your schoolmate," Lord Brighton explained.

The Gamer met the elder man's gaze and saw a flash of weariness, of the age that his graying hair only hinted at behind his outward strength. "A day will come when it will fall only on you to do this sort of thing."

The Gamer suddenly got the feeling he'd ended up in the middle of something he shouldn't have.

"If you wish to ask the questions, then you may, but stay focused on the goal. He is a Late Bloomer; determining the source of his abilities allows us to analyze them with the proper context."

John blinked. '...Did I just become a teachable moment?'

Something like that.

'Hey, wait a second. If you're here, could you just tell me who you are?' John wondered into the void of his mind. 'Might end up saving some serious time.'

That wouldn't be any fun.

'Seriously?' he deadpanned.

Listen, even if I told you, you wouldn't understand the significance, and they wouldn't believe you.

The Gamer sighed. 'Guess I'll take your word for it.'

If I remember, you'll probably get an achievement or something for figuring it out the cool way.

'Good enough for me.'

John was dragged back from his mental exchange by Moira stepping forward, just enough that he knew that it was her turn to lead the conversation. She seemed to have a newfound sense of relaxed focus, and both the Warden and her father were focused on him.

"If we want to know what the source of a Late Bloomer's power is, then we should look for quirks or other unusual behavior," the stern redhead began, glancing at her father for some sign of approval. "Your powers already supposedly display some odd traits, given that they are displayed to you in such a unique manner.

"Can you think of anything else you might have glossed over before that is distinctive?"

John didn't need too long to focus on one thing. He wasn't sure if he should mention it, at first, but he decided that it was best to be honest with these people.

Ela trusted them with her life, and that would have to be good enough for now.

John cleared his throat, taking a second to gather his thoughts before speaking.

"Well… I might have skimmed over this before because it sounds really insane, but sometimes my powers kinda talk to me?" John answered, his voice cracking a little in the middle. "Um… like sometimes I'll get little quips or something because of something I did or said."

Moira and her father exchanged a look.

Yeah, good luck with that one.

Moira's eyes narrowed dangerously. The pressure in the room grew as tension settled between the three. While the Warden’s expression continued to darken, her father simply interlaced his fingers on the desk in front of him, appearing to consider something.

"You are serious?" the redhead asked curtly.

'Oh. Hmm… Maybe don't tell the paladin about voices in my head next time.'

"Yes?" John replied with the best smile he could. "Does it help if I tell you it's mostly harmless commentary or jokes at my expense?"

Moira paused at that comment for a moment before she continued, "That almost certainly rules out any kind of natural phenomena. Of the three major types of outside influence that are known to awaken Late Bloomers, demonic possession is the most likely to have that symptom."

Moira's hand idly moved to a necklace she wore, adorned with a charm in the shape of a shield. John could feel the unfortunately familiar sense of his fight or flight response beginning to gnaw at the back of his mind. Before the young Warden could say anything further, Lord Brighton interrupted.

"Consider all the details we know before taking action."

John shivered and adjusted himself in his chair. The Warden paused and scrunched her face in one of the cutest deep thinking expressions he had seen in a while. The tension slowly dissipated as her posture relaxed once more. John could have sworn that hours passed in those moments before Moira’s eyes opened in realization.

"You spoke to Reginald on the way here, and he led you through the Manor all the way to this study, without incident. Either he or the Manor's defenses would have reacted to demonic taint," she explained, walking through her own reasoning and turning to her father. "So I should have omitted that source to begin with, correct?"

The Lord-Protector nodded. "It would take an archdemon of considerable power to have masked their stench so completely. I doubt such a creature would be humoring us with questions."

Moira's gaze returned to John, her suspicion replaced with something else - genuine interest, he realized.

"Which makes the next most likely candidate… divine intervention."

Those words settled over the room for a moment. With them came a welcome reprieve for John. Suspicion seemed to have been replaced with curiosity, at least for the moment.

“Well, uh. That sounds a lot better than the other thing.” John chuckled nervously, a twist of anxiety still in his stomach. “That is a better thing, right?”

“Yes, though it also raises more questions,” Moira answered. “There are few gods in the Abyss that would have given out such a boon without a deliberate pact or offering… Would you be able to demonstrate some of your abilities now? Perhaps there is something to be learned if we can actually see these spells and items you have.”

“Oh, sure, I can do that, but, uh, it’s probably easiest if I invite you to my party first,” John replied, finally feeling some relief. “I’m not even sure I can share the rest of the windows if I don’t.”

“Party is the group term you spoke of before, yes?”

“Yeah,” he answered, letting his data brain take over. “I’m not even sure where the term comes from - somewhere in old tabletop games I’m sure.”

Upon seeing Lord Brighton raise an eyebrow, John elaborated. “Basically, RPGs and cooperative games and stuff like that tend to operate in small groups of characters called a party. My powers kinda copy that system and allow me to invite others into some kind of simulated group. Once someone is actually in my party, I’m able to show them a lot more of what I can see with my powers.”

The Lord-Protector nodded, and John set to distributing invitations. Unfortunately, while sending the invites, he discovered the reality that the party limit of three imposed by Gamer’s Unity was inclusive of himself. As such, the nervous nerd reluctantly removed Ela to make space for the two in front of him.

Once he was done, John sat quietly as Moira and her father took in the windows now in front of them.

“So this is the kind of thing you see?” the Warden asked.

“Yes, all my quests and achievements and stuff show up like this.”

The Lord-Protector gestured with caution towards his daughter, and accepted the request himself.

A familiar flash of colors and lights began, though John noted that the fancy display was somewhat different - bright crimsons and scarlets flowed around the new name in his interface, framed in brilliant gold. The Lord-Protector’s name appeared in stunning cursive, inscribed upon The Gamer’s display by the invisible hand of magic. A small, gilded rose bloomed upon the end of the health bar - a deep, red glow flickering along the petals.

’Fancy,’ John thought, impressed by the small show in front of him.

Further inspection was interrupted by a system notification.

Party member level disparity too high - Create Dungeon disabled.

’Well, that sucks,’ The Gamer thought, throwing his dreams of carries and abusive leveling strategies out the proverbial window. ’I guess I get it though. I am the guy who’d have tried it.’

Lord Brighton’s face was pure stone, as if nothing at all had occurred; however, John could see the light in his eyes. He was drinking in every detail. Momentarily reminded of Gamer’s Unity, John took a second to check the party bonus while the elder knight processed everything.

—
Lord-Protector’s Conviction, Unshakeable
Granted by William Brighton, Lord-Protector of the Golden Rose.
The remnants of the Blessing shine upon the party, granting increased attack and defense.
If Moira Brighton is present, she takes 20% reduced damage.
“Age has not dulled the thorns of the Rose.”

Bonus restricted due to level disparity.

’...’

John paused for a moment, his brain momentarily short-circuiting.

’Screw the lack of numbers; he gets friggin’ flavor text?’ he thought, in disbelief. ’That’s sick! When do I get cool flavor text?’

You don’t earn “cool flavor text” for a single dungeon lol.

’I… OK OK’ John sighed internally. ’You don’t gotta rub it in - I’m a noob.’

Wordlessly, John looked up at the man in front of him. Unlike Wentworth, there had been no air of absolute control, no spikes of fear or threats of ****, and yet, in this moment, he was perhaps more impressive.

The Gamer was shaken from his thoughts by Moira’s firm voice. “Newman, are you listening?”

He looked around, finding perhaps the barest hint of a smile on Lord Brighton’s face as the cute redhead huffed at him.

“Sorry. I get distracted easily… by a lot of things.”

“All is as you describe it,” the Lord-Protector intoned, nodding to his daughter, who accepted her own invitation.

With another flash of lights a third health bar adorned the side of John’s screen. Similarly to her father, Moira’s animation for joining had been adorned with bright reds and golds, though lacking some of the flourish and pomp. Her name’s inscription was less immaculate, less ornate, though still impressive. Upon the end of her health bar sat the bud of a rose, just beginning to bloom - a stunning glow of vibrant red peeked out from within.

Party member level disparity too high - Exp share for Moira Brighton reduced by 20%

John raised his own eyebrow at that. ’So there are measures of level disparity. I could still do dungeons with her, but she wouldn’t really be gaining much. Curious that it doesn’t reduce anything for me though. She’d probably clown that Lighthouse Keeper boss. I’ll bet that means there will be some shenanigans with difficulty scaling.'

Mentally noting a few other possibilities, The Gamer moved to check her party bonus.

—
Warden’s Duty
Provided by Moira Brighton, Warden of the Golden Rose
The Lady’s Blessing, however unrefined, radiates from her Warden, increasing STR and END.

’Interesting. So they’re both variations on that Blessing,’ John thought. ’Right, the thing Ela told me about. Power of Lady Gaia and stuff.’

“Fascinating…” Moira muttered, drawing The Gamer from his thoughts.

John had to hold in a giggle at seeing the contrast in reactions in front of him. At this point, he was sure nothing he did would garner a serious reaction from Lord William Brighton, but he was pleasantly surprised to find Moira’s eyes wide as she looked around taking in each and every new facet of the now-shared user interface. Fondly, he remembered his own joy and surprise, as well as Ela’s.

Her eyes wandered over to the health bar above his head where her eyes met his. Then, they widened as she realized that she was the one distracted this time. Blushing, she feigned a cough and stepped back. She looked down, covering her cough in her hands, scarlet bangs covering the matching color on her cheeks.

Choosing to take mercy on his student council president, John broke the silence.

“You wanted to see some of my spells, right? I could show you that, um, scrying spell from yesterday.”

“Indeed. A demonstration would be best,” the Lord-Protector answered in lieu of Moira. “This is the spell that you used on my daughter, correct? And the spell that the Witch was most concerned about?”

“Oh, yeah…” John nervously trailed off. “Not that I got a ton of information on either. Do you want me to use it on you now?”

“Once on myself, yes,” the older man responded, seemingly straightening his impossibly pristine posture even more.

Cautiously, under Lord Brighton’s watchful gaze, John cast [Observe]. Something was strange about the cast, in a way that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was similar to hearing someone speak from a webcam mic, as if he could only feel his mana distantly, through the glass of a fishbowl. Mercifully, there was no pain or rebound, simply suppression.

Lord Brighton’s immovable visage momentarily let through the barest hint of something John couldn’t place. Though it went as quickly as it came and he wondered if he’d simply imagined it.

With a not insignificant amount of relief, John shared the window to party and threw it over to his party members. Moira had regained her composure and joined her father in evaluating the simple spell’s output.

“Nothing too fancy,” John said. “No more than you’ve told me directly.”

After a moment’s wait for the pair to stare at the window, he followed up asking, “Should I go ahead and try on you as well, Moira?”

The redhead looked at her father for approval, and, receiving it, nodded affirmatively. “Yes, I would be interested to see what information you were given about me.”

Once more, John called upon [Observe]. Moira made an odd face as the spell completed. The Warden shuddered for a moment, as if she’d suddenly gotten goosebumps. Confused, The Gamer almost asked what was wrong.

Don’t worry about it ;)

’...Did you just use an emoji in my mind?’

“Your mana… feels strange,” Moira muttered, drawing John’s attention back to the task at hand.

“I’m actually surprised I can see this much,” The Gamer stated, passing Moira’s new window across the room. “I only had the first line yesterday. Though, I don’t think it said ‘of the Golden Rose’ last time.

“I suppose that this is accurate,” she commented. “Though, it is quite simplistic. You said that these levels are supposed to measure power, right, so what is yours?”

“Um, Five. I obviously can’t see any of your stats, but I’m making a pretty easy guess that I’m no more than a third your power. That’s not necessarily always how level scaling works, since sometimes early levels are stronger or something, but that’s the best I’ve got.”

“Hmm…” Moira took a moment to think, holding her chin in her hand. “Usually, magic derived from gods will leave a distinctive signature, but I could not identify anything within your spell. Could you show us one of the items you received from your powers? Perhaps in that we will be able to identify something distinctive.”

“Yeah, I can do that,” The Gamer replied, opening his inventory.

He’d first reached for the same sword he’d shown Ela, though, imagining the damage a dropped greatsword could do to the no-doubt eye-wateringly expensive carpet of the study, he chose to bring out his first quest reward item, the model of the atom. He smiled as he drew it forth, taking hold of its simple, lightweight frame.

’Got a lot of memories in a single day with this old thing.’

Standing, John walked the short distance from his chair to Lord Brighton’s desk, and presented the magic focus to Moira.

“That’s it?” she asked, incredulously.

“Yes?” he replied, getting slightly defensive. “It’s like a level one quest reward. What’s wrong with it?”

The redhead raised her hands in concession. “Nothing. It just looks like something you took from the chemistry lab. May I see it?”

Almost reluctantly, John handed the focus over to the paladin. ’Good luck, little buddy.’

She grasped it firmly, closing her eyes. Slowly, she inhaled, then exhaled. The atom began to thrum lightly with mana, a faint golden color emanating from every seam. Her hair, a brilliant crimson, waved lightly around her, creating an almost angelic image framed by the afternoon sun shining through the window behind her.

“I sense… something familiar,” the Warden murmured, her focus unbroken, “Yet, this is strangely different.”

Her face scrunched up as she continued to pump mana into the small focus. It shook and trembled slightly, and John became worried at just how much she was pushing through it.

“Moira,” the Lord-Protector spoke, his voice a low rumble, drawing his daughter from her stupor. “Remember to delegate when the situation is appropriate.”

She deflated slightly, frustration evident on her furrowed features.

“Right… I should know better. Would you please call for Cornelius?” she asked, the glow of her mana gently fading away. “He will know what to make of this.”

“Of course,” Lord Brighton responded, allowing through a real smile as he met her gaze. “You have done well, but there are limits to what even a Warden can do alone. Use the skills of the Order around you.”

He pressed a button on his desk and Reginald stepped through the doorway only a few seconds after.

’Was he standing just outside this whole time?’ John wondered as the older knight requested that the butler bring whoever this new person was to the study, prepared to analyze the item.

“While we await Cornelius’ arrival,” the Lord-Protector continued, turning to The Gamer. “We can finally discuss a Writ of Protection.”