Book 2 - Chapter 23 (Patreon)
Content
Bruna followed him out the door when he left. She might’ve been seeing him out to be polite, or maybe she wanted to talk to him. Brin braced himself for a difficult conversation or a stunning revelation, after all, when a [Witch] wants a private conversation, it couldn’t be anything good.
“Thanks for doing that,” said Bruna. “I haven’t seen Yon laugh like that in days.”
“Huh?” Brin’s brain froze for a second, trying to find a double meaning or hidden threat. There was none. She just wanted to say thank you out of Yon’s earshot. This was ordinary motherly concern. “No problem. Is something wrong with Yon?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that. Davi’s been home less lately and Yon’s feeling a bit lonely. There’s also the current situation with the town. We don’t discuss it at home, but children are perceptive. They pick up on these things.”
“I could see that. Marksi here is like a sponge. He knows when I’m upset before I do,” said Brin.
“And thank you for coming, Marksi! You’re welcome here any time.” She held out a hand and Marksi leaned into her touch, accepting her scratches with enthusiasm. Odd, since he seemed to be really sensitive to [Witches]. Or maybe just when they used their powers? He had never had a problem with Bruna, but he’d felt the evil magic used on Neptune and Gustaff. That might actually be why he always refused to enter the Peck’s home as well. Maybe he could smell the evil magic that had ruined their minds all those years ago.
Brin said his goodbyes and then made his way back home, and the thought stayed with him. Even if Marksi couldn’t sniff out [Witches], he could still tell when they used their powers, at least in some cases.
“Hey, Marksi. You know the way you felt with Neptune’s hut? Do you ever feel like that anywhere else?”
Marksi swiveled his head in confusion.
“How about I show you?” Brin turned and walked towards Gustaff’s house since it was closer.
The house was now a soot-stained hole in the ground. The [Firefighter] had burned it completely down; not a single wooden beam was still standing. Even so, the taint of [Witch] magic still hung on it, because when they approached it Marksi hissed and pulled on Brin’s shoulder, trying to get him to walk the other way.
“This place. It feels bad, right?” asked Brin.
Marksi twitched his tail in the affirmative.
“Are there any other evil places like in town?”
Marksi twitched his tail side to side for ‘no’.
“If there are any other places like this, we need to know about them. We need to stop them before they hurt the town. Remember how we found this place and then burned it down? It’s like that.”
Marksi eyed the ashen pit fearfully, considering. He gazed at it for a long moment, but Brin waited patiently. Finally, Marksi’s expression seemed to resolve itself into determination, if such a thing was even possible for a scaly lizard face. He nodded.
Marksi hopped off Brin’s shoulder and then slither-paddled his way down the street. He still needed to work on walking without rubbing his belly on the ground. Cute little guy.
Several people on the street called out to Marksi in greeting when he walked by, but he was on a mission and didn’t slow for anything until he was out of sight.
Well, Hogg had told Brin not to investigate the [Witches] anymore, but he hadn’t said anything about Marksi.
A woman stood nearby, looking bored until she saw Brin and Marksi and then her face lightened in interest. Shoot. She was going to talk to him, wasn’t she? The people in this town seem to have a sixth sense for when he wasn’t really busy, and had no inhibitions about chatting with anyone at any time. He didn’t know how people got anything done in this town.
“He’s a clever little fellow, isn’t he?” she asked.
Brin turned behind to the source of the voice. [Inspect] named her Allega Tor, a level 25 [Farmer]. She looked to be in her early twenties, and wore a wide-brimmed hat over a face full of freckles. He’d never spoken to her before, but everyone knew who he was. It was still weird to him after months of near-isolation, everyone in town suddenly went out of their way to be nice to him. Weird, and often a waste of time, but welcome.
“He really is,” said Brin. “Maybe too smart, actually. I’ve never had a pet before that got smarter as time went on. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m doing this right. I know a few other people got snakes from the snake pond, but they all stayed normal. None of them were like Marksi.”
“Hmmm…” Allega fiddled with the ribbon coming down from her hat as she thought. “I seem to remember hearing that Perris had one when he was younger.”
“Yeah, and I’ve talked to him about it,” said Brin. “But Perris’ advice can be a little extreme.”
Allega laughed. “True. Well, let's see. They aren’t snakes, but Bruna and Alvir have a very intelligent bull named Poco. There’s old Luciana with her bird, and Jeron has a pig as big as a horse, maybe it’s smart, too, I don’t know. Some [Farmers] keep dogs–I do–but none of those are all that bright. Not like Jaime’s dogs, or Odilon’s. And Clementine has a wolf hound.”
Brin had always been bad with names, and now he wished he had something to write with, because he wanted to investigate every single one of these people. He did his best to commit them to memory. Also, that last name sounded familiar.
“Wait, Clementine? The name is ringing a bell, but I can’t remember when we’ve met.”
“Clementine Agua–”
Brin snapped his fingers. “The [Gatherer]! She’s Luiza’s mom.”
Luiza had mentioned once that her mother had been stuck at level 25 for years since [Gatherer] was so hard to level unless you were willing to travel. It was someone he’d made a mental note to check out. But that didn’t matter unless, hypothetically, he was going to ignore Hogg’s advice and continue his [Witch] hunt. Which he absolutely was.
Allega had given him a trail. He might as well follow it.
Allega nodded. “Oh, you know Luiza? We’re friends! Yes, well, Clementine always brings her wolfhound Ferir with her when she goes out, for protection you know. [Gatherer] doesn’t have the Skills for improving animals, though. I think Odilon does it for her.”
Looking at the sun, he still had three hours before it was time to train with Hogg. Actually, whose turn was it to cook dinner? It was his. He had two hours. Plenty of time to go poking around.
He made small talk with Allega for another couple minutes, and then asked her for directions to Odilon’s house before making his excuses. He decided to start with Odilon first, because he could confirm whether or not he was actually using his Skills to improve Clementine’s pet.
It also helped that he’d be able to find Odilon out in the fields instead of at home. The thought of knocking on a stranger's door just to have a chat filled Brin with extreme anxiety, even if the people in this town wouldn’t find it all that odd.
Two other people stopped him on his way out of town, both of them sensing that he wasn’t really busy. It bothered him that no one ever actually said what they wanted; they always had to start off with small-talk and then work their way up to it. Sometimes they weren’t working towards anything and small talk was the point. He managed to guide the conversation both times to confirm what Allega had told him. Clementine had a wolf hound named Ferir, but Odilon was the one to talk to.
When Brin exited the town’s gates and followed Allega’s directions, he found that Odilon had a pasture, not a farm. A field of tall yellow grass spread out all the way to the forest, and it was populated by a herd of more than two hundred sheep.
The sheep were larger, meaner-looking than the sheep he’d seen on earth. Their curved horns had barbs like thorns and not all of them had two; some had only one growing out the back of their heads, while others had three or four. Other than that, though, they seemed like normal animals, displaying none of the intelligence and discipline of the Pimental’s cows. Brin would’ve been forced to assume that Odilon didn’t have any animal-based Skills at all if not for the dogs.
A herd of dogs, maybe two dozen in number, surrounded the sheep, circling around and making sure none of them got any ideas about wandering off. The biggest one looked like a saggy hound dog the size of a horse sat solemnly between the sheep and the forest. A few small dogs the size of rabbits ran back and forth, yipping happily and playing with Border Collie-looking dogs that were five times their size.
He saw Odilon, a gray-haired man with a prominent beer belly, sitting on a stool in the middle of the field and smoking a pipe.
Brin started the trudge over, only to be mobbed by all the dogs. They stayed just out of arms’ reach at first until he extended a fist. When a stocky gray dog with one ear stepped forward Brin let him sniff and got right in to scratching him behind the ear.
The flood gates opened, and all of them charged forwards, jumping up on him and trying to get his attention and their shares of pats. Brin worked from dog to dog, trying to give them all a bit of attention, but there were too many, and more arrived every second.
A sharp whistle, and then Odilon yelled, “Leave him alone.”
The dogs scattered, leaving Brin free to walk over unimpeded.
He used [Inspect] on Odilon as he approached.
Name Odilon Ribber
Age 64
Level 36
Class Sheep Farmer
Even though his Skills were hidden, Brin had been around enough to have a pretty good understanding of the Class by the name alone. The Class name wasn’t [Shepherd], which would’ve meant giving Skills to act on the sheep directly, but rather [Sheep Farmer], which meant it gave Skills to improve the farm where the sheep lived. It probably helped grow the unnaturally healthy and tall yellow grass in the field, and it definitely did something to the dogs.
At the last second, he had a brief moment of internal panic. Wasn’t it super weird to just march into the middle of a field and start talking to someone he’d never met before? In this town, it was probably fine, honestly. There was a way about doing this, though. He couldn’t just say what he wanted, he had to make conversation first.
“Nice bunch of sheep you got here,” he said.
“Bunch of nightmares, you mean. Bane of my existence is what they are,” said Odilon. His voice was low and scratchy, kind of like how a guy who sat out in a field all day smoking a pipe would sound. He didn’t wear a hat, either, and his skin was a dark, leathery red. Was cancer a thing here? He thought it probably should be, but he honestly didn’t know.
“Aw, they can’t be that bad. Some of the little ones are kind of cute,” said Brin.
Odilon spat. “They’re hellspawn.”
Brin realized he’d been going about this the wrong way. He laughed. “You’re right. I’ve never in my life been tempted to own a sheep. Filthy animals. I wouldn’t mind a dog, though. Everyone should have a dog, but I’ve got my hands full with Marksi.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t have a dog. They can keep each other company when you’re not around. Maybe a nice little Prinnashian Eighter? They get along great with any other kind of animal,” said Odilon.
“How smart are they? I would want something that trains well,” said Brin.
“Then you want a dummy. Smart dogs are harder to train; they’re more confident in themselves which means they think they don’t need to listen to you. See Lup over there?” Odilon indicated the enormous hound dog. “Dumb as a brick, but he’ll stay out there night and day guarding the field. He’d starve to death if I didn’t remind him to eat.”
Brin rubbed his chin. “I wonder how you manage it with intelligent dogs, then. I can’t help but worry I’m doing things wrong with Marksi.
Odilon nodded sagely. “To be the master of an animal, you need to be the master of yourself. You have to know what you want and you have to know that you’re going to get it. Consistency. Discipline. If your pet knows that you’re wishy-washy and change your mind easily, they’ll walk all over you. I remember when Lup was small, he used to go for my socks. I don’t know what it was, always the socks. Maybe he’d still go for them if he could see them. He can’t hardly fit in the front doors now so I don’t know when the last time he actually saw a sock in the flesh, but his ears still perk up whenever I unlace my boots. Why...”
Odilon’s “advice” quickly devolved into an endless litany of little stories and vignettes about his many dogs. It became less clear that he actually knew anything about training dogs, and more clear that he really, really liked them.
Brin had actually been wondering about that. Did the System actually help you become better at your occupation, or did it just hide how crappy you were behind greater and greater power? Ademir hadn’t even thought about experimenting with his recipe for glass; he’d just waited for higher levels to fix the problem for him. How many other occupations were like that?
Even though Odilon’s gabbing took a lot longer than Brin had accounted for, he still got what he needed.
“...which is why my best Skills go to Lup. [Extreme Growth] won’t make a bad dog better, it’ll just make the bad dog bigger.”
“Could you make Marksi bigger? I’m not asking you to do it, just wondering if you could,” said Brin.
“Not unless you’d be willing to leave him with me for a while. I can only do it to my own animals and it takes a lot of time. Most of these kinds of Skills work like that,” said Odilon.
“Oh, that makes sense. I only ask because I heard you did something similar for Clementine,” said Brin.
“Oh, yeah, she adopted little Fella from me. Or I guess she calls him Ferir now. I’ll tell you something, though, he must’ve had some monster blood in him or something, because he was just a little guy when she took him in.”
Bingo. He’d found another [Witch]. Probably. It was totally possible that she really did have some kind of monster pup and that her Class was just that low because [Gatherer] was a bad Class. He’d need to see this dog in person, but if it really was human-level intelligence then he’d know he found her out.
He left Odilon’s farm and made his way over to Luiza’s house. She arrived just as he did, shoulders hunched and eyes on the ground as she walked. She hopped up the front step without seeing him.
“Luiza!” he called out.
She flinched and paused, hand pausing on the doorknob. He practically saw the mental strain of her deciding between turning around and pretending she didn’t hear anything and retreating inside.
She turned, and visibly relaxed when she saw it was him. “Oh, Brin. What brings you here?”
“I was just on my way home, but then I saw you there so I decided to say ‘hi’. Hey, is it true that you have a gigantic wolf pet?”
She shook her head. “No, that’s mom’s pet. He really only likes her. I’ve heard some dogs are family dogs and bond with everyone, but I wouldn’t know. Ferir’s not like that.”
“Oh,” said Brin. “I guess that’s why you didn’t bring him the other night. It’s weird that I’ve never seen him, though.”
“Yeah, that’s probably because he’s sick. He hasn’t left the house since… oh, since before System Day I guess.”
Ferir was sick? How did that make sense? It might be proof that Clementine wasn’t really a [Witch]. [Witches] weren’t known for their generosity and empathy, but they could heal. What [Witch] would ever refuse to heal their own familiar? Unless Ferir wasn’t really sick. Clementine might have seen the writing on the wall and decided to keep her familiar secret and out of the way. Sick or not, you’d have to be a [Witch] to keep a giant wolf hound indoors for weeks on end.
He might need to sneak in, and not just because he wanted to see this thing. He was pretty sure Clementine was a [Witch], but he wasn’t going to risk Hogg’s bet on it until he was sure. It’s not like there was a deadline.
He saw a flicker of movement in the window, a brief glimpse of a stern faced woman. He used [Inspect].
Clementine Agua
Age 41
Class Gatherer
Level 25
So no help there.
“Hey, did you get anything cool for hitting level 25?” asked Brin.
She smiled. “I did. I put an upgrade on [Trickshot]. I can use it twelve times before running out of mana now. What about you?”
“Oh, yeah, I got a memory Skill that helps with glass. I can do all kinds of stuff now–”
A voice called out from inside. “Luiza! What are you doing out there? Come inside!”
Luiza turned and darted through the door without even saying goodbye. Well, Clementine definitely had the personality of a [Witch]. Of the stereotype of [Witches] at least. He’d never forget that Bruna and Ademir had always been nice to him.
That night, after dinner and after Hogg’s sword training, Brin asked Hogg to join him in the warded cellar.
The instant Hogg entered the circle he sat down and crossed his arms. “I thought we agreed that you’d give up on the [Witch]-hunt. You should spend that time having fun or relaxing.”
“I did! Mostly. Listening to Odilon gush about his pets for two hours was very relaxing.”
Hogg snorted. “Sure.”
“Hey, so I had a question. Is it better to use a living animal as a familiar or something else like a suit of armor?” asked Brin.
“Define ‘better’, I guess. If all you’re looking for is sheer power, the animal will be better.
When a [Witch] animates a suit of armor, say, to be her familiar, a considerable amount of the spell’s power will be making the armor walk and talk and think, so there won’t be much left for making it stronger. An animal can already do that, so the power will make it more intelligent; some will be wasted to ensure its obedience, but there will still be a lot more left over to increase its power. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but that’s the general idea without going into the nitty-gritty, which to be honest I don’t understand all that well.”
“I see. Then why does a [Great Witch] like Awnadil have stuffed animals as familiars?”
“At her level, the distinction becomes less important. But let's go back to the suit of armor analogy. Let’s say you have the best suit of armor. A high-level [Smith], no, a team of [Master Smiths] put it together, and then had an [Enchanter] put everything he could pack into it, sparing no expense. In that case, the suit of armor would be much more powerful than, say, a housecat.”
“Ok, a housecat, but what if you started with an exotic animal. A dragon?”
Hogg frowned. “That’s not much of an issue. I don’t know the Hidden Guardian personally, but I expect she’d smash any [Witches] flat who got within two miles of her pond.”
“Huh. Is that why Bruna likes Marksi so much?”
Hogg shrugged. “Marksi is pretty cute. Where is the little guy?”
“Sneaking around somewhere,” said Brin. “I wish he was here, though. I kind of want his help sneaking into the Agua household.”
“I see. Are you thinking of making an accusation?” asked Hogg.
“I’m not quite ready yet. I’d like to see Ferir first,” said Brin.
“That’s not going to work. He doesn’t come out any more. He’s sick.”
“Then I’ll sneak in. Unless… you don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m pretty confident that I could sneak into any house in this city with Marksi’s help. But a [Witch’s] house might be too dangerous.”
“Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing,” said Hogg.
Brin laughed. “Come on. Throw me a bone. When I find Ferir, what am I going to see?”
“He really is sick,” answered Hogg.
Brin slumped. “Oh. I guess that means–”
Hogg sighed dramatically. “Just make your accusation already.”
“Clementine is a [Witch],” said Brin.
Hogg handed over a bag that clinked with gold coins. “She made him sick so he wouldn’t be able to leave the house. Once [Witch]-rumors started swirling with Tawna, she decided to preempt any suspicion against her by hiding her familiar. Out of sight, out of mind. He’s a nasty-looking thing, with a personality to match. But it’s not his fault; it’s the way she treats him. Some people really shouldn’t have a dog.”
“There are no bad dogs, just bad owners,” Brin agreed.
After that, Brin was almost too excited to go to bed. Bruna, Balbi, Clementine, Ademir. That was four [Witches] down. Three to go. He wanted to check out Elvira the [Trapper] next, and then maybe run down the list of exotic pet owners that Allega had given him. He’d only agreed that very day to stop looking for the [Witches], and now he felt close to finding them all.
Marksi darted into his room. Brin expected him to curl up in bed, but instead Marksi made a rising chirp sound.
“That means you want me to come. Do you want me to follow you?” asked Brin.
Marksi twitched his tail up and down.
Brin pulled his overcoat back on and followed him outside. Marksi moved fast. Brin walked faster, so Marksi slithered faster. Brin ran, and Marksi moved even faster, until Brin strained at his limit to keep up. The streetlights fouled his darkvision and his foot caught an uneven board on the walkway, so he hopped over into the dirt in the middle of the street and kept running.
Marksi abruptly veered to the street on his left, and in the darkness of night Brin would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been softly glowing. They ran on, across town.
Marksi approached the silos. Tall wooden buildings, by far the tallest structures in town, rose into the air. These were for grain and mato, a communal storage area. Usually they sat mostly empty, but he’d noticed the farmers spending more and more time filling them up. They’d spent the last months straining their Skills to the limits to prepare for a possible siege. The fields were all outside of the town walls, but from what Brin could tell, they had enough food stored to last for months. Maybe years.
Marksi shot over to one silo in particular. This one was shorter than the rest, maybe only three stories tall. The little dragon tapped his tail against the door. Then he shuddered and ran up to Brin’s shoulder.
“This is it? This one feels weird to you?”
Marksi didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Brin could feel the trembling.
“Hey!” said a voice.
Brin jumped in the air in panic, heart lurching in his chest. He turned, but it was just Zilly.
He panted, putting a hand to his chest. “Zilly! You almost gave me a heart attack!”
Zilly looked uncharacteristically serious. “What are you doing here? You really shouldn’t go in there.”