The Fool's Freedom

Old Greyheart was staring at the bundle of herbs on the table with suspicion.

“You say you’ve eaten those, boy?” he asked and nudged them with a finger. Alan wasn’t sure what this was about. They were just herbs. He had given some to Wilbis, but they would probably not be meeting for a while, if ever.

Which was a pity. The gnome had been very helpful and willing to accept Alan despite the strangeness of the situation. Plus, supplying a Realm filled with different worlds and danger of all kinds with kobold cheese seemed like a great pastime. Hopefully, Wilbis wouldn’t suffer a lot for his mistakes.

“A few times. The first time they helped me quite a lot. These ones are a bit different though.”

“Hmm.” Old Greyheart simply responded.

There was suddenly a second kettle next to the first one. Smaller, and almost enticingly ugly. Alan wasn’t sure if kettles were supposed to look like balls of scrap metal, but he wasn’t about to judge a connoisseur of tea like Old Greyheart. For all he knew it was magical.

“Is that teapot magical?” he asked.

“Hm? No more than the rest. I just don’t want to ruin my good ones.”

Old bastard.

“Can you tell what they do at least?” Alan asked.

“I can identify things; however, it only gives me their name. Effects, if unknown, are found through trial and error. These are Potent Kobold Herbs,” Old Greyheart replied. “Let’s move inside and see what happens. And maybe talk a bit.”

Alan didn’t hesitate to follow the old man. Whatever doubts he had held for his character the previous time were gone. He was dying of curiosity to ask about the [Blackguard] he had met and who had, supposedly, stolen the Deathless Plate. At least that was Alan’s own view of what had gone on. He hoped Emerson had found a way home.

First came the tea though. It didn’t bode well to visit a friend without bearing a gift. Alan also took out one of the void jessamines – the strange yellow flower he had found a few times during his stay in the fractal. It had seemed important at the time and Alan had been told it could be worth something, but he had never gotten around to actually checking.

Old Greyheart instantly zeroed in on the new item. “Oh, and what’s that? Have you turned to flower and weed thieving?”

“It’s just something I picked up from the ground. How can it be thieving?” Alan protested.

“In the Myriad Realm, almost everything belongs to someone. They won’t make problems for tier one ants who’ve barely poked their nose into this mess we call living, but there are also those nasty bastards who’ll flay you alive for kicking a rock in their ‘domains’.” Old Greyheart explained. He was holding the void jessamine now – Alan didn’t remember handing it over, but he didn’t mind. The decrepit old man had a weird character and it was quite comforting.

He took time to examine the inside of the hut. It was much the same as the last time and the window still overlooked the mysterious pine forest outside, as if they were not in the middle of the Transient Bazaar. If it even has a middle. So much I don’t understand.

“This is good. The void property is difficult to harness, and while most of the flower is poison, in time, I could make good things with it. Can I have this?”

Alan smiled. “Sure, it’s for you.”

Old Greyheart eyed him like a bird of prey would eye another predator. “You’ve grown, boy. You’ve changed, and not only because you reek of so many things. Come on, ask the questions you’ve sought me out for. It’s hard to imagine it’s just for the company.”

You’d be surprised. Alan swallowed the lump in his throat as he once again thought of times long past. The brain had an uncanny ability to bury memories, only to bring them out in a torrent of emotions later. A lot later.

The shadowy wisps swirled around and some left through the pores of Alan’s skin and the breath he took and let out to center himself. I’m all over the place.

Whether Old Greyheart had an opinion on Alan’s outward changes, he didn’t show it. This was most likely far from the strangest thing the old bastard had seen. The void jessamine was suddenly on a shelf behind Old Greyheart’s chair, encased in glass. When had that happened?

“I met a [Blackguard], like the one in front of your hut the first time we met,” Alan said, focusing on what was important. “He… stole something from the fractal battlefield I was… randomly thrown into.”

Old Greyheart’s eye twitched. “You were on a fractal with a Deathless Plate?”

So he knows something. “Yes.”

Old Greyheart sighed and took the kettle with the kobold herbs. The steam from it had the slightest hint of brown and blue. He poured a small amount into a cup smelled the liquid, and grimaced.

“I don’t know about this tea. Might kill us.” Old Greyheart said. It was out of character for the old man to avoid a topic, or maybe he was simply giving himself time to sieve through what he could say and what he couldn’t. Alan had his suspicion that the old man might be directly involved.

“Are you that easy to kill? What did that woman call you… the Undying Fart?” Alan grinned.

“Ha! Look who has grown a mouth. Beware, boy, you’re in my home.” He left the cup to the side. “I’ll test this later because we won’t be able to speak properly if we try it now. All my kettles are made of materials that make the underlying effects of teas stronger, and this one’s no exception, although it’s weaker. I don’t want to get knocked down by something made of… what is it? Kobolds? I barely remember what those look like.”

“Want a mirror?”

Old Greyheart’s eyes widened even further and after a moment of tense silence in which Alan wondered if the Bazaar’s protections would hold against the full wrath of the man before him, laughed. It was a low guttural sound that made Alan smile from ear to ear.

“You’re alright boy. Pour us some tea.”

A new kettle and two cups were before them and Alan got to work. He remained silent, letting Old Greyheart decide on his next words.

“It was not the one you saw here,” the old man said.

“He remembered seeing me here, and mentioned you by name – Undying Greyheart.” Alan protested.

“Oh? He did?”

Alan saw a storm form in the old man’s eyes for just a moment, and then it was gone. Alan’s shirt was suddenly stuck to his back from the cold sweat that had appeared in but a second. His heart was trying to leap off his chest. It was like being in the hands of the giant dragon again but it lasted only an instance of time.

I’m so much stronger than last time, and yet… He hasn’t shown even a part of what he’s capable of. Is it alright to talk to him like I am?

“Each [Blackguard] is an individual without a soul. A thinking and acting husk, connected together by a thread of fate. There are… hive-minds out there. This is not exactly the case, but the comparison could serve for you to understand what I’m saying.”

“So… there are many? And they share memories?”

Old Greyheart nodded. “Every single detail. Their purpose, I cannot divulge, so don’t ask. However, not having them as enemies is good, but not working together with them is better.”

Even Kalyntha’s copies couldn’t remain connected to the original. And she’s a tier three, allegedly. What the fuck?

“Are they strong?”

“Depends on who’s asking.” The old man took a sip of his tea and took a moment to appreciate it. “To the current you, they’re an insurmountable mountain. To me? Hm.”

Alan frowned and didn’t reply. He followed suit and took a sip of his cup. A calming warm current instantly permeated his mouth. It was another delicious brew, and Alan found himself closing his eyes without meaning to. A tension he hadn’t known he was holding was dispersed as his mind became clearer. Even the whispering shadows calmed down.

There was no more anxiety or worry of underlying plots. There were no doubts or fears, nor ego or desire. For just a single instance, the world disappeared.

Emptiness. It reminded him of his experience in the strange coffee place, but it was vastly different as well. He was present and he took in the world, rather than tuning it all out. His eyes slowly opened, struggling to hold on to the feeling. Each twitch of Old Greyheart’s ancient face, each groove and mark were there for him to take in.

The room was a marvel of details he had failed to notice before and the closer he looked, the more he could see the mana weaved into it all. It was not a color nor a current, but a sensation that transcended sight or mind.

Alan took a slow breath, and all was gone. He looked down at his cup where the slightly green hot liquid greeted him, calm as the surface of a mirror.

“Good tea, eh, boy?” Old Greyheart smiled.

Does he know what I’ve achieved? Is he helping me?

Alan slowly nodded and set down the cup. His movements were fluid like never before and he felt as if each second was stretching just a tiny bit longer.

So many strange experiences, so many roads to take, and knowledge to obtain.

“Most…,” Old Greyheart began, “Take the easy paths. A higher tier means more power. So what do they do? They follow long threaded paths and class guides meant for smooth advancement. It is certainly a way to power, however, how can one achieve anything if there’s not a single original thought or experience to define them? How could a pale copy, be anything but an afterthought in the grand scheme or the System itself? To advance is to find yourself, no matter what forces are helping or what’s pushing you from the shadows. Each time you will dig deeper and deeper and learn what defines you, and what the steps you have taken into the dark have brought. Meaning changes, fate is ever-twisting, and those who think they can see through the design of the world are fools.”

Does he know of my legacy too? How could he? Or has he just sensed something?

“I’m saying all of this for your benefit. You’ve set foot on a unique path, and while the System rewards that, it also challenges it. The conditions for your advancement will be higher, the trouble you face might be worse, and your life won’t be simple. I’m not saying the System is a grand manipulator that reigns supreme and tests its subjects constantly, but I’m also not saying it isn’t.”

Alan didn’t blink, nor breathe, hanging on to every single word. The old man had seen through him as if it was the simplest of things in a matter of minutes. There was no surprise there, but Alan didn’t want that to happen again. Had the dragon seen through him the same? Had Isind? Or was Old Greyheart that special? Could he glimpse into some other secrets?

The Undying smacked his lips, “To touch upon the void is not that rare of a thing, although few turn it into one of their main strengths. Nor is having a rare bloodline. Both are dangerous, risky, and oftentimes unrewarding. The choice is yours. However, channeling that emptiness can help you stop others from seeing what I just did ever again.”

Alan’s eyebrows shot open. Are you in my mind, you old fart? Stop it!

“I’m not reading your mind,” Old Greyheart stated as if he was doing exactly that. “What I am is of no concern of yours, but it allows me to see a lot. That’s why I’ll remain here for eternity. Open eyes are a danger to those who wish to hide their nature from the world.”

The old man leaned forward with a grin, “And right now, you and I have grown similar. Now, show me your new trait.”

Alan opened his mouth to refute then stopped himself. What was the point of denying it?

Trait: Empty Vitality (Unique)

Shadows fill you, and emptiness drives you. A strange life that is no different from all others, apart from its source.

Your life is fueled by your mana. No other healing will affect you.

Invasive mana different than your own will be suffocated by the void element running through your veins, depending on its strength.

Your blood is a powerful reagent.

You can store life energy and use it as fuel.

Old Greyheart didn’t seem surprised. “Shadows and void… a bit of life, a bit of death too. You’re an interesting kid. I’ve seen quite a few from newly integrated worlds fall into the trap of feeling special and die gruesomely as test subjects in one scheme or another. Well, at the very least you can always choose a peaceful life.”

“What do you mean?” Alan asked in confusion.

The old man took another sip of tea. “You’re functionally immortal, boy. You have no lifespan, which means old age is no danger for you. You can be healed, and you can die from your wounds if you don’t fix them in time, just as anyone else. But it’s not something that special to most, as each tier and each point in vitality can extend lifespan. Then again there are quite a few monsters who’ve run out of options. Such a trait would be of great interest to them…”

“Stop trying to scare me, Old Grey,” Alan said. He felt no danger at all as he stared into the deep eyes of the old man.

“Growing smarter is good, you were quite the silly little thing the first time you met.”

Alan sighed, “I still think I can be quite the fool.”

Old Greyheart laughed. “No doubt about that.”