Interconnected: Spliced Souls

Leaving, I hooked a right and proceeded up the ramp dividing the haves from the have-nots. It was like walking into a separate realm. The air tasted cleaner without the smell of urine or feces, and even the sun was almost brighter. For it being before noon, the roads were packed. Even accounting for the nearby path to the slums.   

Itarr repeated the directions while I walked, making it obvious I was more of a tourist than a citizen. The architecture reminded me of the middle ages, but what was that? Why did I know the method of how the roads were paved, yet unable to explain anything else about my predicament? The wildkin– men and women with the physical traits of animals– were as familiar to me as aliens. Stubby men with more hair than a bison weaved and cursed through the crowd. They couldn't have been more than 5 feet tall, but their muscles were thick. The comparable women were only marginally taller, yet their rugged arms matched their male counterparts.   

I passed by a reptilian humanoid that stood at least seven feet tall. He had the face and tail of a crocodile with green, scaly skin. He saw me staring, but the man smiled with a mouth full of sharp teeth and nodded. 

He’s a giant… Alligatorkin? Crocokin? Just how much cloth went into the shirt and pants he’s wearing? You know, it would be cool if I at least kept some memories of what these species are instead of going in blind.  

This one pointy-eared woman had a bird made of light standing on her head. Its eyes were swirls instead of a color, and it flapped its wings while chirping.   

It just felt…magical– like I wasn't supposed to be here, yet here I was. A stranger in a world where, to me, normalcy was fiction. Nothing matched the generic information I held in my amnesiac brain.   

But was the world strange?  

Or was I the odd one out? Logic dictated that if everything around you didn't make sense, then you were the one who didn't make sense.   

Why the deep sigh? 

“Because…I don't know…where to even start. They say a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, so I shouldn't be discouraged. If anything…maybe I should look forward to what's awaiting us, right?” 

Perhaps? I'm not sure how to reply. But… We can't achieve anything with inaction, yes? You told me that last night.  

“You remembered?” 

Of course. Every word you speak is important. I know less than you do– about ‘gasoline,’ ‘electricity,’ and this ‘airplane’ you talked about last night. I will take any chance to learn from you. And to learn from people like Nimyra.  

“That's a good point. When you're reading or doing something for the first time, focus on the context clues.”  

Itarr and I walked with a renewed focus on listening to the conversations around us to try and learn the unknown.   

When we reached a building with a sign of a knight wearing a suit of armor with a two-handed sword, we didn't learn that much. The topics were too advanced, and the conversations we eavesdropped on were about the price of food and how the taxes were being raised again.   

Sure, that information was nice to know, but nothing was immediately helpful.   

Regardless, we gazed at the structure. It was likely four or five floors tall. Four sets of double doors acted as the entrances.   

I entered the building and was amazed at what I saw. Across the lobby sat three dozen tables, each seat filled with a warrior. Warriors with shiny blades, wands that glimmered with black orbs, great shields reinforced with metal and wood, and subtle rogues with daggers and crossbows across their bodies.   

The people outside wore their weapons, but it was a different story inside. I almost felt out of place because I looked like a country bumpkin who ventured into a restricted area. 

There was a vibe going around– one I knew I didn't have. People were chatting all around, but no one turned and stared. It wasn't like all conversation died at the drop of me entering this place.   

Continuing, I walked until I found myself at the back of the shortest line. This place was most similar to a post office. The large counter at the back sat at least ten receptionists, and the bulletin board to the far right probably contained the quests available for the day. As I waited, warriors from all around gathered at the quest board to pick one out, then stood in whichever line was the shortest.   

When it was finally my turn, I smiled at the red-headed woman with pointy ears. She wore a white button-up shirt, black vest, and a black pencil skirt with a purple hair clip to match her violet eyes.   

“Hi! Welcome to Warden. How can I help you today?” she asked in a cheery tone, one I recognized to be forced.   

“I'd like to sign up. How can I do that?” I replied.   

“Can you summon your Skill Tablet?” I nodded and showed it off. “Great!” She clapped her hands and reached under the desk to pull out a small stack of paper. “These are a few contracts and agreement forms all members must sign before choosing one of our beginner Skill Paths. It's your lucky day, Ms…”  

“Servi. My name’s Servi.”  

“It's your lucky day, Ms. Servi. Beginner's orientation starts in about forty minutes. Please proceed to the second floor and find meeting room 204. Take a quill and ink cap from the table inside, and please fill out the forms. Oh, and my name is Claire. If you have any problems or questions, please don't hesitate to ask. I'm looking forward to working with you!”  

Claire– the red-headed elf– sent me off with a smile and wave before turning that same tone to the girl standing behind me.   

Itarr and I ascended the stairs to the second floor and found the room. The door was open. I walked into a classroom with two dozen desks. All but four were filled with humans and wildkin. I couldn't see any elves anywhere.   

I sat at the back after getting a quill and ink cap from the nearby table. Leaning back, I crossed my legs and passed the time by speaking with Itarr. It meant conversing with myself, which earned me a few puzzled expressions from those that thought I was crazy, but it didn't matter. Eventually, two more girls came through before forty minutes had passed. One was a Catkin– no, they were called singi, right?   

Her hair came to just below her shoulder blades. It flowed like the falling petals of a cherry blossom: a beautiful and serene pink that was somehow comforting and calming to look at. With each step towards an empty desk near me, the girl's pink cat ears and tail twitched slightly. She wore a red vest over her chainmail with a white undershirt tucked into her black pants. The cat theme continued with her black socks and boots. Both were embroidered with a pink cat. A thin longsword dangled from her hip in a black sheath, which matched the messenger bag hugging her shoulder.   

This girl walked with a determined step. After sitting down, she waywardly glanced around the room, eventually waving a friendly hand at me when she noticed me staring. Pulling out a journal with a field of Lily flowers on the cover, she wrote with a portable quill hidden inside.   

I guess the ink is inside? Like a pen? Why not use that? I didn't see any when we were downstairs, either. Do they exist here? 

The other girl was a human who was obviously timid. It was the way she held herself. I didn't have to see those quivering, green eyes and shivering blond hair to understand her nervousness. 

Unlike me, she wore something more suited to the rigorous lifestyle of an adventurer. It was almost like a turtle neck tunic. But there were leather reinforcements on her shoulder and two belts crisscrossed at her waist, which held a waist covering with pockets. It was all black and brown– muted colors for someone with vibrant eyes. She walked past me while looking at the ground, then sat in the chair. She reached into her pockets for a small photo. 

No? That’s a painting. 

It slipped from her unsteady hands and fluttered beside me, where I got a good look. 

“Is that you?” I asked. The corner of her eyes trembled as she bit her lip, but she said nothing. She reached for the image and held it close to her heart. She remained totally still, staring at the chalkboard at the front of the classroom. 

Her actions are odd. 

“Yeah, I guess a little,” I replied to Itarr, causing more eyes to turn my way. Suppose it wasn't normal to speak to yourself so often... 

It was odd how that happened. I mean, how your demeanor could change almost overnight. It seemed like my survival worries were tossed to the wind after meeting Itarr. [True Immortality] made me convinced everything was going to be alright.  

“Guess I better fill these out,” I said to myself. The forms were standard boilerplate documents, such as asking for my name and hometown. Then it wanted to know where to send my belongings if I died, who the next of kin was, where they were, and things like that. The following four documents were a list of rules and the terms of conditions for being a member of Warden. The rules were all common sense, so I couldn’t pick a fight with a member inside a guild office, lie about completing a request, disrespect or kill a client, steal from an ally, or purposely withhold information when it was time to report in.  

If an adventurer died near you, you couldn't leave their dog tag behind. If possible, the guild wanted you to recover the body, but stealing from the corpse was grounds for instant dismissal.  

That went the same for threatening a receptionist or any other employee. Depending on how severely I broke the rules, I could either be left off with a written or verbal warning, lose SP, be required to pay a portion of my quest reward, or outright forfeit it entirely. Getting banned from the guild meant you almost lost all chance of growing stronger. I didn't see it before, but the back of the document held little tidbits and facts about a Skill Tablet, including Passive Progress. The more you lived life, the more a little bar would fill. When complete, you would gain 1 SP. Then again, to use that SP, you needed to join Warden and enroll in a Skill Path.  

But what if you couldn’t summon your Skill Tablet?   

Well, the document said materializing it wasn’t a hard requirement. You could join without it, and any SP you gain would still be there, but you couldn’t actually use it until you summoned the Skill Tablet. Any SP gained through Passive Progress was also added to it. Theoretically, I imagined you’d be met with a couple dozen SP if you awoke it later in life. 

For Skill Paths? The document said there were three generic paths. Warrior focused on melee and defensive skills. Mystic was for magic. Rogue meant you’d learn skills to sleuth throughout the shadows to take out your target unaware. Or maybe you became adept with poison?  

I didn’t know. I also didn’t know if it mattered which one I chose. It probably didn’t, so I decided to go with Rogue after discussing it with Itarr. 

The more specialized Skill Paths need requirements. Either you had to reach a certain rank or tier within the guild, or you needed to fulfill some other obligation specific to the path you wished to learn from. The document didn’t list all the different criteria, but it stated that there were over 100 ranks to climb within Warden. They were broken into different tiers. 

Novice. 

Beginner. 

Intermediate.  

Advanced.  

Expert. 

Master.  

Interestingly enough, those were their formal names, but they were better known by their nicknames, which were... 

Novice.  

Circle.  

Color. 

Gemstone. 

Monster.  

Dragon.  

As an example, if you were an Intermediate Rank 6, you would be informally called an Orange. According to the document, your dog tags would be colored orange. The nickname probably came from.   

If so, then it was self-explanatory.   

Glancing to my right, I saw the singi organize her documents while the human remained focused on them. But the girl with the cat ears kept side-eying the nervous wreck between us. A couple minutes later, a suited, short man walked through the open door and introduced himself as the guild master of Warden’s Canary Branch. He introduced himself as a dwarf but didn’t choose to give a name, specifically wanting to be known as guild master.  

That was probably a power play, but he spoke about what was on the documents and said every adventurer was expected to be held to the highest standard. It was a slog of a speech designed to pad his own ass or increase his delusional self-worth.  

Something about it pissed me off, but I refrained from showing any emotions and nodded along. Halfway through, someone knocked at the door. The guild master opened it, retrieved a note from an employee, and called for a Srassa. The timid girl with the mini portrait stood so fast I thought she was about to pass out and trembled as she left.  

All eyes were on her, and honestly?  

I felt for her, being singled out like that when she was already so skittish. Nonetheless, the lecture continued for another thirty minutes. As the dwarf wrapped up, someone with a stack of metal cards and a weird stamp-like device with three slots entered. They sat behind the desk with the quill and ink caps, then called us to turn in our forms. After looking them over and asking clarifying questions, they put the documents in the left slot, a pair of metal cards in the middle one, and a drop of our blood on the rightmost divot. There was a lever at the top. The employee pulled it, the three openings flashed, and the metal plates turned into dog tags.   

These dog tags were our ID, and they held our names and current rank, which just read ‘Novice Rank 0.’  

Once that was done, those who could show their Skill Tablet handed it over, and the employee used the same device, more blood, and our newly printed dog tags to do something to the tablets.  

I didn’t know what it was and watched the flashing tablet. When I returned to my seat, the Skill Tablet displayed three images and Skill Paths. 

Warrior - There was a knight holding a shield.  

Mystic - There was a mage holding a staff and an orb of lightning.  

Rogue - There was a shady-looking fellow gripping a pair of daggers while crouching within a shadow.  

Tapping on Rogue, I was brought back to my tablet’s standard screen, although the vast amount of empty space that used to be there was taken up by different categories marked ‘Tier 1’ to ‘Tier 5.’ But something was amiss. During the lecture, the guild master said you had to visit a receptionist to change which Skill Path you were on, but I could freely switch between the three generic ones at will via a toggle at the top right.   

I wonder if that’s because of me? As a goddess, did I have a part in creating this system? Should that be the case, why aren’t all of the skills listed at once? Why do we have to activate a Skill Path before they show up? 

“I’m wracking my brain trying to figure it out, but I’m not coming up with anything. Sorry. But maybe this Warden thing can be good for us.” 

Should our goal be to join as many paths as possible? 

“Yeah. At least for right now. If you’re connected to it, then it might jog your memory. It ain’t much, but it’s something.” 

Understood. 

The next few minutes saw the rest of the class receive their dog tags, and after one more short speech of the guild master’s high expectations, he dismissed us with orders to get our first mission from the quest board on the first floor. We walked out of the room and descended the stairs, and it was apparent to everyone that we were newbies.  

Because why else would a group of 23 people crowd around the same spot at the same time? We were shoulder to shoulder, so I backed off and made way for an empty table to wait for the crowd to dissipate. The pink-haired singi had the same idea, choosing to sit a table away. But she fidgeted, stealing glances at my face while I examined my purchasable skills. Before getting too invested in it, I heard footsteps and a pleasant voice. 

“Hi! You’re a newbie, right?”  

“Hmm?” I looked up and nodded, not ignoring the blossoming smile on her cute face.  

Seriously, this girl was pretty, and my immortal heart skipped a couple dozen beats, prompting Itarr to ask what was wrong in a worried tone.   

“Er– yeah. I noticed you didn’t get called up.”  

“That’s because I’m already a member! Yeah… I’m kinda like your senior, yeah? If only by a year or two, but look! I’m a Novice Rank 5!” reaching around her neck, the girl showed me her dog tags. “I wanted a refresher. I asked to sit in, and they let me.” 

“Congratulations? I guess?”  

“Haha! Thanks! You know, I can show you the ropes. The first lesson is this! If there’s a crowd around the quest board, be patient. The last thing you want is to be squashed or trampled whenever the new quests are put up. Or, in this case, join and gaze with the other newbies.”  

“Yeah. I kinda figured that.”  

“Yep!” Bouncing on the tips of her toes, this Catkin’s tail energetically danced behind its owner. If I didn’t know better, I’d have guessed it had a mind of its own with how happy it looked-- like a streak of pink lightning.   

It was cute.  

“Anyways,” she continued, sitting down beside me. She retrieved a journal from her messenger bag and flipped it to the front page. “Lesson 2! Don’t go alone. It’s always more fun when you have some friends to adventure with you! If something happens when you’re solo, who's gonna help you? A ghost? Nope. No siree bob.”  

“I guess that makes enough sense.”  

“Lesson 3! Diversify your party. It is best to choose Skill Paths that complement your party. So, which one did you pick?”  

“Rogue.”  

“Ah, so you’re the sneaky sneaky type, huh? I wouldn’t have figured since you look more like a warrior. My granddad was a Spelldancer, which is kinda like a Mystic and Rogue mixed, but it’s a class that requires you to be at least a Monster. That’s like a decade or two away for me. But I chose Mystic when I first joined. See? Those two complement each other. You know, all we need is a Warrior, and we have the common newbie party composition.”  

“Umm…”  

“Hmm?” I looked to the left and saw a girl with blond hair and verdant eyes– the same one that left during orientation. She was wearing armor, though. A flashy extended cuirass with modular pieces to defend her elbows and arms.

Her name's…Srassa, right? 

“How long have you been standing there?”  

“Not…too long… Ah, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to bother you! I’ll-I’ll be going now.”  

“Hold on, girlie!” The girl with the cat ears dashed in front of the meek girl and blocked her path, eliciting a yelp from Srassa. “You’re a newbie, too, right?”  

“Umm… I'm sorry for being new…” Srassa closed her eyes and bowed, bonking the Catkin in the noggin. “Bwaaa!!! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that!! I'm sorry!!!!”  

“It’s fine. It’s no big deal. I took bigger hits during that when I trained with my grampy, haha. But wow! You’re a fidgety one, aren’t ya? And no, don’t say sorry for that. Hmm…” The singi touched the armor, then pressed a finger to her gloves before rapping her knuckles against those metallic gauntlets. “What Skill Path did you choose? Actually, where did you go?”  

“My…armor was delivered here. I wanted to put it on before orientation started, but it was late. And… Umm… I…can’t summon my Skill Tablet yet, so I couldn’t choose one,” Srassa replied, fidgeting. The girl with the cat tail led Srassa to the table, and they both sat.  

“I see,” replied the singi. Srassa apologized once more. “Srassa, did your family tell you about me? Did they say anything about on-the-field training?”  

“Umm… Yes. But how do you know about that?”  

“That's because I'm the gal they hired! Srassa Flynn, it's super nice to meet you. I'm Momo, and I’m gonna adventure with you until you get a handle on things. Why don't we make this a trio? Hey, that armor isn't just for show, right?”  

“I…have trained, yes. Father hired an instructor to strengthen my body when I was younger.”  

“Then great! How about you?” The singi looked at me.  

“Sure, that’s fine by me. I’m kinda new to all this, so I don’t mind. I’m Servi, by the way," I said, extending a hand.   

“Servi, huh? That’s an interesting and unique name. I like it!” She shook my hand. She didn’t have gloves on, so I felt her callouses.  

She probably trained a lot. How does that feel? To put so much effort into something and reap the rewards? Did I have something I was passionate about? 

After introducing ourselves, we looked at Srassa, who, almost unnoticeably, bit her lip. She was torn between extending her hand or returning it to her lap, but Momo acted quicker. “Haha, if we’re going to be party members, we gotta be friendly. Like I told Servi, I’m Momo. Srassa, I hope we’ll be good friends.”  

“Ah, friends? Y-Yes, me too!” I didn't know why it felt substantial, but Srassa smiled, almost like a weight was lifted from her heart. She was nervous, probably at the prospect of meeting new people.   

She has a last name, though. No one else has had one. Does that mean she’s special? Rich? Nimyra said she has a client list exclusively filled with nobles, so does that mean she’s one of them? A rich, pampered pretty girl? Srassa seems down to earth, though. When I think of the rich, a snobby brat comes to mind. She’s anything but. 

“Ah, Lady Srassa, I’m glad to have caught you before your departure!” shouted a butler from near the entrance. He seemed youthful, but the grey hair indicated otherwise. He wore a sword and shield on his back and jogged to our table. He handed the equipment to Srassa.  

“They’re done?!” she quietly exclaimed, running her hand down the flat edge of the blade. The shield looked like the definition of luxury. It was gleaming silver with a green jewel embedded in the front.   

“Oh, you're the man I met three days ago. Jony, right? You wore something different, though,” Momo commented.   

“Ms. Momo! How it does my heart well to see you in good spirits. Lady Srassa, has she debriefed you on the situation? Ms. Momo’s track record for the guild is spotless and stellar for someone so young. Your mother and father believe there is no better instructor for you to learn from.”  

“She has. But I didn't know this was what father meant…”  

“If it is of any consequence, I believe the best educator is someone you can look at and trust. You've wanted this since you were a little girl. You can fulfill those dreams. Ah, my apologies,” said the butler, looking at me. I introduced myself after he said he didn't think we had met. “I am in service to Srassa’s family. My name is Jony. It is a pleasure to meet you,” bowed the butler. He was on the taller side, but the way he moved…  

It didn’t feel like he was an ordinary butler. There was just something about him disguised under that kind demeanor. He was tricky-- he hid his eyes’ movements, but he scanned everyone and all available exit points while walking to us. It was...subtle, but I caught it. How? Why? I didn't know.  

“Lady Srassa, when should I expect you home?”  

“I…don’t know.”  

“Understood. This is your first quest as a member of Warden, so I will not nag you any further. It is time for you to leave the nest and experience independence. Your mother and father told me to give you their love, and they wish you good luck. Ms. Momo, Ms. Servi, I wish you a good day and an excellent hunt. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”  

"Jo–Jony!!!” Srassa blushed, her cheeks turning red. It seemed like the poor girl was torn between crying or running away.  

She was awfully skittish. Was it ironic she was more of a scaredy-cat than the actual cat girl?  

Jony bowed, wished us well, and left with a practiced and silent step. 

“Well, shall we get to it? The quest board is looking pretty bare.” Momo asked.