Unwavering Craftsman: What if Damien turned around. (Part 1) (Patreon)

This is a what if? side story for unwavering craftsman, which diverges right at the beginning in chapter 2, at the ceremony of paths. It's 6-ish chapters long.

"H̵̰́ë̴̪ ̶̩͝w̵̘̉o̷͓͂u̴̘͝l̵̨̀d̸̘̋ ̸̲͒s̶̰͑t̵̙͋i̷̳͠f̴̼̈́l̷̞͒ȩ̷̛ ̴̧̚y̷͓̆o̶͍͐u̷̟̾.̶̥̇ ̵̫̒C̶̨͑r̴͎̃ḯ̵̧p̵͙͆p̶̭̔l̶̝̓e̷̦̔ ̴͖̇ẏ̴̼o̷̺͛ǘ̶̞.̶͙̆ ̵̬̕D̴̠̈́é̷̘b̶̰̔i̶͇̽l̸̛̯i̵̞͛t̵̻̔ḁ̷͝t̴̖̆e̷̖̿ ̷̹̈́y̶͈͂o̶̖̒u̷͍̔.̶̲̊ ̷̡̐Ȉ̷͔g̸̮̽n̵̼̾o̴̹͐ŕ̴̭ě̴̜ ̷͙́t̷͙̓h̶͈́e̵̹͐ ̵̟͑t̵̠͝r̶̼̂a̸̞͋i̷͋͜t̵͍͑ọ̶̒ŗ̸͊s̴̹͗.̸̙̆ ̵̺̔T̵͉̈́h̸͓̓ẹ̶͌ ̷̪̏b̶̖͘ẻ̴̲ṫ̶̼ṟ̷̇a̵͍̓y̸̲͗ë̸̝́r̶͈̎s̵̨̄.̸̬̓ ̸̫̔Ṱ̸̓h̵̰́e̴̘̓ ̸̰̚t̸͖̚ḫ̵͝i̷͈̓e̴̻̋v̵̧̍e̵͉͑s̸̰͆.̴͇̚ ̴̠̀T̵̟̒u̶͈̅r̷͔͋ṉ̸͝ ̷͚̐a̴̜͛ṙ̸͔o̶͗ͅu̴̗͋n̸̘̂ḏ̶̈ ̶̳͂a̷̞̅n̷̝͆d̶͖̒ ̷͆͜ĺ̵̼o̴̯̅ô̵̠k̸̻̂ ̵̦̚ä̶̠́t̷̰̀ ̸̳́m̷̫̑e̵͚̓.̶̮͌ ̵͎͛S̴̢̿ĕ̶̼e̷͔͑ ̸̹̊m̵̨̓e̷̡͝.̵̘̆ ̴͉͒H̴̫̍ē̴͙a̷̧͂r̶̍͜ ̷̥͌m̷̧̊e̸̠̒.̴̦͑ ̴͕́I̶͋ͅ ̵̭̎w̸̜̅i̸̡̅l̵͜͠l̸̈́ͅ ̶̡̎ḡ̵̹r̸̤͝a̴̹͝n̶̝͋ț̴͘ ̷̧̋ŷ̷̟o̵̝͆ư̵̡ ̴̻͠m̵̭̌y̴̹͑ ̶̞̑p̸̗̔o̴͍͌w̷̨̓ȇ̶̺r̷̜̎,̷̦͑ ̶̖̇a̷͜͝n̴̪̄d̶͙͆ ̶̫͆t̴̩̉h̸̽ͅe̵̖̎ ̸̹̍w̷̹͠h̷͕͌o̵̞̊l̵̝̕ë̴͖ ̸̟̇w̵̩͆ỏ̵͜r̶̗̈l̷̫̿d̶̦̐ ̶̹̆s̷̹̅h̴̹͛a̴̱͛l̵͓͘ḻ̶̇ ̸͔͊k̶͝ͅn̴̥̽ö̶̪w̴̭̋ ̵͉͊y̵̖̽ò̶̼ú̵̜.̵̺̌ ̸̦̏B̶̯̓ȏ̶͓w̶̙̓ ̷̲̎t̸̲̒o̸̥̔ ̶̤̕y̶̙͗o̸͉͊ṷ̶̆.̸̻̈́ ̶̘͒F̷̝̊e̵̻̅ä̶͙́r̵̼͝ ̷̻̽y̵̢̌o̴̦͆u̴̦̒.̸͓̊"

Damien's breath froze in his throat, sweat beading on his forehead as his body shivered. But, beneath the fear, he was angry. The Five considered him faithless, simply for asking questions? He'd never made any move against them. He'd never planted the seeds of doubt in others. He had never done anything worthy of their ire, and yet they called him faithless, and four had refused him?

And the fifth, Grungle, was obviously intending to bestow him a duff class. 'You desire to excel with the strength of your own hands. I shall grant you that chance.' Yeah, if that wasn't some pre-emptive justification for saddling him with a low-tier crafting class, Damien had no idea what was. He didn't need the chilling voice behind him warning him they planned to cripple him to work that out.

All that time he'd invested, planning his future, learning adventuring and swordplay. All wasted. And for what?

He knew nothing of Grungle's plots. Of how the Maker had leaked vastly exaggerated versions of Damien's crimes to the other four, to convince Kakkerxat to abandon him and leave the plotting god free to bestow the tier one class he desired. Nor did he know of the chess pieces already in play; the elf, begging on the streets of the capital. The girl, granted [Neophyte Smith] in the very same ceremony. The dragon, blown off course for a 'chance' encounter, and the [Tourist] already spreading rumours of its demise in the frigid town of Sanctuary in the Thief's Wastes. All he knew was what was before him. And what was behind.

T̴̝̦̈́͒̕U̴͙̽R̶̡̯͋N̷̹̠̒͝"

Damien obeyed.

Damien beheld.

The ceremony shattered, and he found himself back in the real world, blinking in the daylight. The green sky was above, the three source-lights glowing at their full brightness. And yet it wasn't enough. Burnt into his vision was that eye, floating in the darkness and yet fully illuminated. The iris blood red, the pupil a slit. In the void of the ceremony, any sort of perspective had been impossible, and yet somehow Damien knew it had been impossibly vast.

He'd only had the briefest of glimpses before the ceremony had broken, and yet he felt like he'd shattered with it. His mouth tasted of iron, his vision blurred, and for a moment, his world was silent. He stood there, paralysed, as still as a statue, and probably just as pale. Compared to even that single glance, the Five seemed... human in comparison.

And then he let out a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding as sound started filtering back in. Hundreds of youths reading their status. The shouts of jubilation from people a tier or two higher than expected. The moans of disappointment from those a tier or two under, or who had ended up with a class they couldn't use. It was enough to finally shake him from his shock. After all, there was a stage of important figures watching him. He couldn't wait forever.

Not that he wanted to read his own status. Yes, he was curious, but he was equal parts terrified. He'd acted more out of emotion than logic. What if it had spoilt his life? The way the ritual had broken... What if the giant eye hadn't had time to give him its promised power? What if he had no class whatsoever? Even some unusable, low-tiered class from Grungle would be better than nothing.

But again, it couldn't wait forever. And he was still pissed at the Five. From his vantage point of anger, it was hard to fault his decision. Blinking repeatedly to clear his eyes, Damien took advantage of the ritual circle to bring up his status.

Name: Damien
Species: Human
Age: 17
Class: The Judgement (Tier 10) (Level 1)
Skills: Truthseeker (Level 1) Divine Punishment (Level 1) Gate (Level 1) Itinerant Eyes (Level 1) Foresight (Level 1) Bloodwave (Level 1) Eternal Flesh (Level 1) Whispers of the Void (Level 1) Touch of Madness (Level 1) Tears of the Forgotten (Level 1)
Perks: None
Feats: None

"What the heck?!" he yelled, his watchers—even his anger—instantly forgotten.

Tier ten?! And those skills. They started sensibly enough, given the name of his class, but by half-way, they'd gone sailing clear off the deep end. Were they spells? Prayers, even, given one of his skills had 'divine' in the name? There were no handy descriptions; if a skill, perk or feat wasn't already documented by a previous user, the only option was experimentation. And here—surrounded by lots of level one bystanders who weren't tier ten—was not the place for it.

Bystanders...

Remembering where he was, he glanced around, noting that half the new adults had left the circle already, but his outburst meant that everyone still in his vicinity was staring. Those on the stage had already been staring, but now their eyes had an added intensity, along with several raised eyebrows.

In something of a panic, Damien rushed to the edge of the barrier, his parents already there to meet him.

"That bad, huh?" asked Shigeo.

"Better than it could have been," he answered, gingerly prodding the barrier and eliciting a shower of sparks. It was too much to hope it would let him out. Heck, with the gang of spectators he'd attracted, they'd doubtless force him through an appraisal even if he could walk through the barrier. A few of them had certainly been looking twitchy, up until the sparks, ready to react if he ran.

"Still, from the way you came over here instead of queuing for the appraiser, there must be something wrong," accurately pointed out Fleta.

"Let's just say... if those people up there catch wind of my appraisal results, all hell is going to break loose."

"Tier nine?" asked Shigeo, frowning.

Damien, fully expecting everyone on stage to have eavesdropping skills at the level needed to listen in on this private chat, shuffled around to put himself between the stage and his parents, then flashed them all ten fingers.

"Oh my," commented Fleta.

"Bah. They wouldn't dare," grinned Shigeo. "Trust me. Not a single one of them is gonna risk offending you."

"I agree," nodded Fleta. "There will indeed be hell, but they'll wait for you to leave first."

"Good!" added Shigeo, still grinning ear to ear. "We could use a few fewer nobles on our island."

Suitably reassured, Damien turned away from the edge of the barrier and joined the queue of people waiting to be appraised. With his delay, he was pretty much at the back, but that was fine; it gave him time to think.

It also gave the watchers time to stew. He allowed himself an amused grin as they grew increasingly irritated, expecting him to bypass the line, but they were unable to cross to the inside of the circle to force him. The fat noble kid especially was looking like he was about to burst.

"What do you think you're doing?! My time is precious, so hurry up and get over here!" he yelled, unable to hold down his frustration.

Damien pretended not to hear him.

He did smile at the looks of annoyance on the faces of everyone else in the queue, though. Yelling at someone for not cutting into a line wasn't the best way for whoever's brat that was to endear himself to the general public.

The noble started haranguing the guards instead, but there was nothing they could do, so Damien took the opportunity to go over his status once more. Which of the skills would be appropriate for testing in a crowded area? [Truthseeker] sounded very much like one of the prayers Gaia granted, forcing the target to answer questions fully and honestly. Best saved until he arrived at the front of the queue; it was only level one, but he was tier ten, and the noble kid was young and obviously lacked self-control. There was a decent chance it would work on him, and Damien could think of many questions that would be great fun to ask.

[Divine Punishment] was a big nope. For all Damien knew, it could explode everyone within a hundred feet of him that had ever committed a minor crime. Worse, given the 'divine' in the name, it might not even act on what he considered crimes. It might act on the judgement of the giant, eldritch eyeball. It had promised the world would fear him, but he didn't want that to be because he'd exploded a plaza of fresh adults.

[Gate] held some potential. He hoped it was a teleportation spell of some sort, but gates tended to be two-way, and he wouldn't know if he could control the endpoint without using it. Again, not something he could risk trying for the first time with innocents around.

[Itinerant Eyes]? Based on the name alone, he couldn't think of any way that could go wrong, short of it causing his eyes to pop out of their sockets. And if they were going to do that, best to try it while a priest of Gaia was in earshot.

... Assuming Gaia's prayers would work on him now. If he was in the bad books of the Five before, goodness knows what they thought of him now. Okay then, maybe that one would be best tried at home, with a healing potion to hand, instead.

[Foresight]? It was the only option. Everything past [Foresight] didn't even need a second look to decide that now was not the time to experiment. Everything else ruled out, Damien reached for his new skill and activated it.

Images flashed before his eyes. The queue shrinking. The fat noble kid, leering. The same kid, still in the same clothes, but his face a rictus of horror. A friendly lady in a cardigan. The palace servant, his face betraying almost no emotion, but just a hint of smugness in the corners of his friendly smile.

And then the images broke and fractured, hundreds upon thousands pouring into his mind all at once. He saw a giant dragon, incomparable to the one his parents had brought in, suspended in the air. A green-haired kid, not even a teenager, lying in a dusty road lined with wooden hovels. His mother, unmoving on the ground, a claw wound deep enough to have taken her lungs slashed across her chest. A girl his own age, naked, tears in her eyes as a man groped at her, laughing. Fields of grass. A town of ice and snow. Spiders looming over him, emerging from a thick mist. The corpse of his dad, burned and bloodied. Impossibly huge trees. A room of anvils, an entire wall a furnace.

Gasping, he slammed the skill off, taking a few seconds to collect himself. The queue had moved on only a single pace, the time spent lost in his skill not even a minute.

"So much for that being safe," he muttered to himself. Yes, no bystanders had been in danger, but it hadn't exactly been pleasant for him.

Unwilling to risk using any of his skills again, at least until he had somewhere comfortable to fall over, he instead waited agitatedly till he reached the front of the queue, his former patience destroyed by the way he'd just seen both of his parents dead. They hadn't even looked any older than their current selves. Had that skill shown him things that would happen? If so, would his interference stop them, or would it cause them? Or were the images only possibilities?

His attention was grabbed by the crack of flesh meeting flesh, and he turned to see a man standing over a young woman. From her age, she'd almost certainly been part of the ceremony, and, if the man's face was anything to go by, had gained a class he wasn't happy with. The girl turned, tears in her eyes, and Damien saw her face. He recognised both the face and the tears.

The girl from his vision...

Damien swore under his breath as the reasons for him questioning the Five came flooding back. Here was a father, disappointed that his daughter hadn't gained the class he wanted. If the vision was accurate, he would kick her out. Her life afterwards would not be pleasant. And questioning that was why the Five were punishing him?

Damien smiled a new sort of smile as he realised he was going about his day completely wrong. After all, the Five had brushed him away. He'd accepted a class from another being. Someone opposed to the Five, who had named them thieves and betrayers. Who had bestowed on Damien the class of [The Judgement]. Judgement upon who, exactly?

The man, red-faced with anger, happened to catch Damien's eye. The beginnings of a frown formed, the man obviously annoyed at the stranger poking their nose into his business.

"A̷̫̓ ̶̥̐s̴̗̄c̷̠̀h̷͚̕e̸̤̍m̶̞̀e̸̜͊r̸̜̋ ̶̎͜ț̵̛h̷͒͜w̸̪̾ã̵̳r̴̨̀t̶̤͌è̷̯d̷͇͛,̸̧͊ ̸̞͝b̵͍͠ṳ̴͊t̴̨̛ ̴̣͂n̵͉̋o̵̬͝t̴͍̿ ̵̣̾d̶͎̄ḯ̵̻s̶̭̈́ạ̸̕p̷͓̓p̴̠͗o̶̝͆ì̴̳n̴̺͝ṫ̵͔é̸̯ḋ̵͚.̵̠͊ ̴̪̃Y̷͂ͅe̶̺͠s̸̗̈́.̴̜́ ̵͓͂À̷̙ ̴̄͜s̸̬͒e̵̙̐r̴͕͒v̴̖̚a̵̮̕ň̵̲t̷̝̎ ̶̭̚a̶͚̍w̷̫̕ā̸̲k̶̤̈́e̵̺͋ñ̴̲e̷̍͜d̵͂ͅ,̷̰̂ ̴̛͔h̶͕̅i̸̲̒s̷͇̈ ̸̠͑f̶̟̑r̵̩̃ê̵͚ê̸̞ḍ̴̔o̸̰̎m̸̬̍ ̵̞͐å̵̩t̸̙́ ̷̨̕h̷̰̓a̵̩͝n̸̦̊d̵̜̀.̴̙̾ ̴̞̇Y̴̻̅e̸͖͂s̴̹̅.̴̦͝ ̵͕̀A̵͖̚ ̷̼͛p̵͈̿r̸̯̀o̵̲͊p̷̝̈́ḫ̵̀ë̷̩́t̸̥͘ ̸̳̀a̵̲̋ǹ̵̦ó̴̙i̶̥̎n̴͚͝t̵̕͜e̴̗͝d̸͖̀,̸̗̈ ̸̭̏b̴͍̈e̸̲͘ä̶̞́r̸̤̆ȉ̴̭n̸̜̿g̶̠͂ ̶̯̈́a̵̪̿ ̸̪͑ḿ̴͉ê̷͙s̴̬̍s̷̹͆ä̶̘́g̸̕ͅë̴̠́ ̵͍̍o̷̖͌f̴̳̍ ̶̖́b̶̩͛l̷̹͘o̵͙͛ó̷̻d̵͔̉.̴̜͆ ̵̼̈́Ỷ̴̗è̸̘ş̵̓.̴̱̕ ̷̥̍I̷͇͋ ̸͕̂a̶̜͂m̸͍̄ ̶̠͘A̴̠̔ṟ̶̆a̴̤̎c̶̡̆h̶̭͐-̷͈͛a̴̧̓c̷͈͒h̸͍͆a̴̩͝ṉ̸̾ŏ̷̠ļ̴̎,̷̲͒ ̷̫̍a̴͔̿n̷͕̋ḍ̸͘ ̵̩͂m̴͖̋ÿ̸͖́ ̷̝̉n̶̦̅a̷̢͐m̸͔̃e̴̼͒ ̵̧́s̶̥̊h̸̰̊a̸͕͂ḽ̵͒l̶͎͋ ̴̬͝b̴̬͋ẹ̶́ ̸̙̿a̴̝͑ ̷̛̮b̷͕͛l̶̩͌â̵͈d̴͚͠e̴͎͒ ̷̤͋o̷͇͂n̷̤͒ ̸̀ͅy̶͍͗o̸̧̾ŭ̵͍r̵̰͐ ̴̱̈́t̷̛̘o̸̭͠ṇ̸̂g̵̢̏u̷̯͋ê̴̢.̴̬͋"

Damien let the voice wash over him, it no longer holding the terror from his first encounter. His patron had promised the world would bow to him, and there was no time like the present to get started.

Damien smirked at the evil man, and activated [Divine Punishment].