BT - Book 1 - Chapter 41 (Patreon)

Micah opened his eyes in the cave, his body covered in mostly healed bruises and cuts that he barely remembered.  Telivern lay curled against him, its fur warming and cushioning him through the long night.

“Congratulations blessed,” the voice Micah had come to associate with class selection and growth spoke from nowhere.  “You’ve reached your second milestone and are eligible for a class specialty.  A series of options have been presented to you based upon your affinities and skill levels.  This message has repeated two hundred and sixty four times without response.  Please make a selection.”

“For your achievements in learning the martial art, Wind Spear, you may upgrade the martial art to Uncommon rarity, increasing the effectiveness of all abilities associated with that martial art.” The voice continued its even tone and measured cadence unphased by Micah’s wry amusement.  “Due to your increased physical fitness, you may specialize as an athlete and gain additional hit points upon each level up.  For following the path of the spear, you may specialize as a spear adept, making you more effective in many small ways with a spear.  For your achievements in wind magic, you may specialize as an aeromancer, decreasing the mana cost and increasing the effectiveness of your wind magic.  For your achievements in wood magic, you may specialize as a healer, decreasing the mana cost and increasing the effectiveness of your wood magic.  For your achievements in time magic, you may specialize again as a chronomancer, decreasing the mana cost and increasing the effectiveness of your time magic.  For your knowledge and achievements in ritual magic, you may specialize as an occultist.  For your knowledge and achievements in enchanting, you may specialize as an enchanter.  For your knowledge of Elsewhere you may specialize as an arcanist, increasing your understanding of and chances of surviving direct contact with the corrosive mists of that plane.”

The rocky ceiling of his cave stared back at him as Micah pondered his options.  After everything he’d done, the risks he’d taken and the timelines he’d abandoned, it was all over.

Micah didn’t hold any illusions.  Someone with his level of power would be forced to fight again.  Karell simply wasn’t the sort of peaceful place where he’d be allowed to retire and rest on his laurels.

Still, Micah had earned himself a moment of peace.  For once, his decisions didn’t need to be focused on the next moment, on grabbing every last mote of power that he could.  The all consuming threat of the Durgh invasion was gone.  He had the luxury of picking something that he truly wanted to do.

Everything he’d done, every sacrifice he’d made ran through Micah’s mind.  The friends he watched fall only to see them standing and joking again in the next timeline.  The moral quandaries he’d ignored, sure that the ends would justify his means.

Hells, that put him closer to the Royal Knights than he’d like.  He kept telling himself that he’d never sunk to the same lows as his former mentors, but it was a thin distinction.  He’d trafficked in blood and time to save his friends and family, and there was no doubt in Micah’s mind that he’d do it again if necessary.

He raised his hand up.  Even with his eyes open, it glowed slightly red with the light of Elsewhere.  He curled his fingers into a fist.  

For now he could relax.  He could afford to live a normal life for a time, to recover from his wounds both physical and spiritual.

“Congratulations blessed,” the voice repeated itself.  “You’ve reached your second milestone and are eligible for a class specialty.  A series of options have been presented to you based upon your affinities and skill levels.  This message has repeated two hundred and sixty five times without response.  Please make a selection.”

“Enchanter,” Micah spoke the word aloud, waking Telivern with his voice.  Beside him the deer stirred, lifting its head to look at Micah with concern.

He wouldn’t live the rest of his life as a craftsman, but it would give Micah a chance to relax and focus on his research.  

“It’s fine buddy,” Micah patted Telivern’s flank.  “I don’t know if it’s all over, but it’s over for now.  It was a close thing, but we did it.”

Relief.  Wrongness.  Sick.

Micah stood up and walked out into the clearing outside of the cave.  He put his hand to his forehead, shielding himself from the sun after his time in the Great Depths.  Birds chirped nearby and a pair of squirrels chased each other from branch to branch.

He’d have to get used to the cave again.  The grove was gone, one of the many sacrifices he’d made to gain the power needed to save Basil’s Cove.  Still, it was nostalgic in its own way.

Micah called up his status.

Micah Silver

Age 18 [ERROR] / 28

Class/Level Thaumaturge 40

XP 31,200/150,000

HP 785/810

Class Specialty

Chronomancer, Enchanter

Attributes

Body 10, Agility 10, Mind 65, Spirit 64

Attunement

Moon 17 Sun 2 Night 23

Mana

Moon  3224/3224 Sun 3204/3204 Night  3246/3246

Affinities

Time 10

Tier V - Foresight 6, Time Echos 1, Temporal Transfer 2, Haste 7

Wood 6

Tier I - Refresh 10, Mending 9, Plant Weave 9

Tier II - Augmented Mending 13, Root Spears 11

Tier III - Heal 8, Paralytic Sting 3

Tier IV - Regeneration 5, Healing Wave 6

Air 5

Tier I - Gale 7, Air Knife 15, Air Supply 4
Tier II - Wind Shield 6, Sonic Bolt 11

Tier III - Updraft 2, Pressure Spear 6

Tier IV - Flight 3

Blessings

Mythic Blessing of Mursa - Blessed Return, Ageless Folio

Skills

Anatomy  7

Arcana   8

Enchanting  11

Fishing   1
Herbalism  5

Librarian  5

Ritual Magic  23

Spear   11

-Wind Spear 8

Spellcasting  27

Telivern followed Micah out, resplendent in the sunshine.  He turned to the deer and leaned against it after it approached him, its fur soft against the side of his face.  Micah smiled, the bristles tickling his cheek.  He wanted to see his family.  He didn’t even know how long it had been since he’d had a moment to actually sit down and talk with them.

Support.  Concern.  Frailty.

“I suppose they are a weakness of mine,” Micah chuckled.  “There’s plenty that I need to protect in this world.  You and them are at the front of the list.”

The walk back to Basil’s Cove was a dream.  Even his bare foot didn’t really bother him.  Stones dug into him, but he barely even felt the pain.  Eight hundred hit points had toughened him beyond what Micah would ordinarily consider human.

The gate to the City barely slowed him.  The guards took pity on Micah based upon his ragged appearance and waved him in without forcing him to pay the toll.  

Internally, he chuckled.  His clothes were grimy, burnt and filled with holes.  Half of his hair was missing, burned from his head by a near miss.  Even his spear was covered with divots and burns from the shrapnel and spells that targeted Micah during his battle with the Durgh.  To all the world he looked like nothing more than an adventurer returning after biting off more than he could chew.

Inside Basil’s Cove, he took in the regular day to day bustle of the City as he walked toward his parents’ house.  Merchants shouted the virtues of their wares in the marketplace while day laborers told jokes as they worked.  Occasionally a messenger would run by, a hand on their satchel as they darted through the crowds in an attempt to ward off thieves or interception.

Micah smiled.  This was what he was protecting.  The chaos and beautiful normalcy of a city going about its business, entirely unaware how close it had come to complete destruction.

Finally he arrived at the front door to his parents’ house.  Next door, his Father’s shop bustled as the assistants, all forgotten that his parents were trying to aid, helped clients with their fittings.  His Dad would be busy with work until after Sundown, but Mother would be home, likely tutoring Esther or preparing dinner.

He knocked on the door.  Inside his Mother shouted something indistinct at Esther before he heard the sound of footsteps leading to the door.  It opened.

Before Micah could say anything, he was wrapped up in a hug.

“Micah!,” Esther shouted from inside, “Momma, did you know that Micah was coming home?”

“Hush poppet,” his Mother replied, tears sparkling in her eyes as she looked up at him.  “Trevor said you ran off on some sort of big mission.  You disappeared for a week.  Seven whole days without any news.  I know you’re an adult Micah, but you can’t do that to your parents.  You need to stop by now and again or we’ll worry about you.  It’s what your Father and I do.”

“I’m sorry Mom,” Micah’s voice caught in his throat.  “You won’t have to worry about it again. I have all the time in the world now.  Before, something came up that threatened the entire City.  I was the only one that could do something about it.  If I didn’t, everyone would have gotten hurt.  I just couldn’t stand by and let that happen.”

“Esther,” she turned to her daughter, “Get your Father and Trevor.  Let them both know that Micah’s back and that I expect both of them here for supper.  We’re having a family dinner tonight no matter what.  Tell them that I won’t forgive them if they’re even ten minutes late.”

Esther scampered past the two of them, pausing briefly to look back at Micah before she ran over to the clothing shop.  Micah’s Mother looked him up and down and clucked her tongue before pulling him into the house.

“Loot at you Micah Silver,” she shook her head.  “You look like someone dragged you on a rope through all of the hells, one after another.  I’m not sure I even want to know how you managed to let your clothing get to that state.”

“It feels like it Mom,” Micah chuckled, “and honestly, I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you.”

“Well,” she continued, pulling him into the kitchen and motioning for Micah to sit at the table.  “It doesn’t matter.  You’re back, and you’re going to eat dinner with the family for the first time in years.  That’s what matters.”

Dinner was perfect.  The years spent mostly in the forest or under the thumb of the Royal Knights faded into an unpleasant memory as Trevor complimented their Mother on the dinner rolls and Esther hung onto Micah and Trevor’s words as they described their various adventures.

As dinner came to close, Micah’s Mother sent Esther to the washroom to get ready for bed and his Father brought out a bottle of the good port.  Usually the fortified wine was reserved for big sales, an entire line of blouses to a noblewoman or a contract to exclusively make the suit jackets for a major noble house’s servants.  Today, his Father beamed as he poured four large glasses of the expensive amber liquid. 

“Micah,” the older man held up his glass, “no matter how old or strong you may grow, this will always be where you belong.  To always returning home again.”

Micah drank a sip along with his parents and brother, savoring the sweet burn of the liquid.  By the Sixteen, there was no way that he’d ever touch juusht again.

“So Micah,” his Father sat down, a slight flush on his cheeks.  “Now that you’ve accomplished whatever your mysterious goal was, do you have any plans?  From the way Trevor talked about it you probably have enough attunement to retire, but that sounds like an awfully boring path to take when you’re only eighteen.”

“It’s not anything exciting,” Micah’s face twisted into a wry smile.  “Certainly not anything as harrowing as how I’ve spent the last couple of months, but I’ve learned a thing or two about enchanting.  I’ll still probably raid a dungeon now and then, but I’d really like to buy a little shop up by the market and start selling things to adventurers.  I know how useful those sorts of things can be during a tough run, and if I could save a couple lives by ensuring that some of Trevor’s guildmates have what they need, that seems like a more than worthwhile pastime to me.”

“If you’re any good at it you’ll make a killing,” his Father beamed back.  “Just make sure to pay your dues to the artisan guilds and they’ll smooth things over with the City.  I’ll introduce you to someone tomorrow and we’ll have you up and running in no time.”

“What about Jo?” Trevor’s voice cut into the cheer.  “I know she misses you, but she was really upset with how you stormed off.  I think she wanted to be there with you on whatever your big final mission was.  I really think the two of you should try and patch things up.”

“Wait,” his Mother’s head whipped around to squint at Micah.  “Jo?  The Jo in Trevor’s squad.  How come I didn’t know that my little boy had a girlfriend.”

“I can’t count on this one to settle down with any one girl,” she snorted and tossed her head toward Trevor.  “He’s always looking for something that he can’t quite find.  That said, if I have a chance at grand kids, I need to know.”

“Veronica,” Micah’s Father shook his head.  “By the unending grace of the Sixteen…”