The Fool's Freedom

“Relax, boy,” the old man laughed, “As much as I dislike those Spirit World dwellers, I won’t take it out on someone as weak as you simply because they have shown you some attention. I am not that petty,” the old man leaned back and Alan exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Plus, we shared tea.”

That’s right. It would be awfully rude to share a cup of tea with someone you are about to kill. A perfectly reasonable thought that gave Alan a perfectly reasonable sense of safety.

“And a request is a sacred thing to the Bazaar, even if it is not fulfilled. I am not like the spirit freak you met, and I don’t mess with the System,” the old man took a sip of tea, “But you gave me your story, and I gave you tea and a bit of low-value information. We will count that as a finished transaction. Now, you tried the tea I’ve made myself, and you made me happy by giving me honest feedback. That does not happen often for an old undying fool like me, so I will give you some more advice in return.”

Alan was all ears as soon as the word advice left the old cracked lips. This was what he wanted.

“I will start with your class. The usual way specific classes are picked includes following guidelines, learning skills by sensing and shaping the mana, nurturing the body with treasures and rituals, awakening bloodlines, or even inheriting them, and that’s only from the top of my head. An integration is different because it can lead to a class completely redefining itself,” Old Greyheart slapped the table, making Alan jump. “Do you understand, boy? That and of course all the forgotten legacies and treasures unearthed by the System, are the biggest and most coveted advantages of an integration.”

“So, by not following a guide we can force a class to stray from its original trajectory and become something new?” It made sense.

“Yes! Titles, traits, skills, and most importantly aptitude can all contribute to it giving you the choice of a class that makes no sense at the moment! And, once you pick the class, the skills are slowly adapted to it. A class is more than a name, it shapes your mana and it shapes your future development, and if you let it, it will shape your character too. But you also influence its path to a very large degree. So, no matter what, do not buy and follow class progression guides, telling you how to advance your skills or unlock new ones. Experiment and discover. Trust yourself and your choices!”

Alan nodded. Old Greyheart was not the first one to warn him of this. Alan had yet to fully understand what all of that entailed, but he had long decided to pave his own path so it was all going well.

“Now, with that said, you need to take advantage of your attributes. Attributes are more than a number going up. They allow you to improve your skills, without waiting for a System given opportunity or luck. You have a high Will, and that will allow you to bend skills to your advantage, and control your mana better. It doesn’t have to be much, but a small change can lead to a world of difference, even if you don’t advance the skill. Similarly to that, the physical attributes may allow you for more control when strength is needed or to reach the necessary speed or to a skill full potential and even advancement.”

Alan thought about it, “I think I have done something like that with my [Shadow Slash].” He had felt it in the latest fights, the pushback from the skill, the struggle to keep hold of it both on a mental and physical level.

“Good. Each attribute can help with that in different ways. By themselves, they are pretty simple to understand, but combined they will let you impose your will upon your inner world and shape it as you see fit. You will need to meet thresholds to be able to unlock certain skills or even class advancements, but that is rarely a problem for newly integrated species.”

Alan hadn’t considered that aspect of the attributes. He mostly just wanted them to grow so that he could be stronger in all possible ways.

Except Vitality. Alan sighed. Supporting his Vitality would lead to a large waste of attribute points, and with time falling behind others would become a problem, no matter how many special traits or skills he gathered.

“I will have to keep wasting points on keeping Vitality from reaching zero to keep myself alive then, and hope I will find a solution or an opportunity?”

Old Greyheart nodded as he took a sip of his tea, “Yes, unfortunately. But you shouldn’t count on prolonging the decline indefinitely. At some point, doing that will not be enough. Currently, you have a year to live at most, and straining your body too much might reduce that time further.”

A year, huh? Alan was not surprised to hear that, but it still stung for someone of such power as Old Greyheart to say it.

“A declining and limited attribute, no matter which one, is more often than not a death sentence. Your trait is hardly unique and by far not one of the worst, but those who survive such tricks of fate are rare, and some like my last customer, decide to give up rather than continue suffering.”

Old Greyheart spread his palm and a small dark blue cloud appeared on top of it, Alan saw a red bead at the center that kept turning in place.

“This is a soul-linked trait called [Immortal Anguish] and it is of a grade above yours. It makes its bearer almost fully immortal, sustaining them while at the same time decomposing their body again and again, before healing it in an instant and starting over. The bearer is constantly suffering in body and spirit, as they experience what a corpse in the ground would go through each second of each day, unable to learn, to fight, to grow. Still, they remain physically immortal. It is half a life of anguish and torture, especially since the trait is linked to the soul. Believe me, the pain of the soul is something else.”

“How do you have that?” how was the old man simply holding a trait in the palm of his hand?

“This is my trade, boy. I gather traits, and I sell them. The blood of one afflicted with this trait is a precious thing,” the old man said.

What???

“Then…”

“No. As I said before I cannot help with that. It is one thing to give a trait, and a completely different to remove it if it does not stem from a curse or something curable. I might have one or two that can counteract the one you have, but I am no Spirit, and I do not give away treasures, no matter how pleasant our chat is. Once you have something of value to trade, we can talk again. That is one of the paths before you. A solution.”

“Why can you not remove the trait?” Alan asked.

Old Greyheart thought for a few seconds, looking out of the window of his hut, “To remove a trait requires me to kill the being carrying it and extract it from them. To remove a trait linked to the soul like [Immortal Anguish] and yours is not as simple as killing a person. You have to extinguish their soul and remove it from the cosmic cycle of reincarnation. That is a crime against existence itself. Against balance. Some souls carry weight beyond what you can imagine, others are like a flickering candle and their disappearance does not create waves. It is still taboo unless the soul chooses it.”

So… Old Greyheart was a provider of assisted suicide. This was a whole complicated mess. [Limited Vitality] was linked to his soul? Then did Thorn…

“Did the Spirit modify my soul to get rid of [Severe Weakness]?” he didn’t understand. Why was [Severe Weakness] different from [Limited Vitality]?

“The Spirit changed the trait to one he already had and went through the System to do it. [One Mind, One Body] is not that rarely seen despite the disappearance of the Order of the Broken, and there are many traits with similar effects. The two were simply compatible; your Strength and Dexterity are still limited, but they do not decline and you fuel them by raising your other attributes. It is a feat worthy of admiration, but Spirits are a different breed, boy. You should count your stars that a simple compulsion is all that they left on you,” Old Greybeard’s face twisted every time he mentioned the spirits.

There was a story there, but Alan was too preoccupied by all the information he was learning.

“What does it mean for a trait to be linked to the soul?”

“It means that if I am to kill you now, when the soul reincarnates there is a high chance it will carry the same trait. Death is not often an escape; only true death can guarantee that.”

“What will you do with [Immortal Anguish]?”

The old man shrugged, “If there is a good price, I will sell it. Whoever buys it can do whatever they want with it. It is not simple to give someone a trait, but it is very possible.”

Alan frowned. That seemed like a dark business. The old man could be responsible for someone out there suffering their whole life, or even eternity!

“I am not a good person, boy. No one who has reached true power can be called good. There are simply the bad, the worse, and those who do not realize that. Some raise children and cultivate certain traits in them, before slaughtering them and implanting the traits in their descendants for a chance at a better future. At least I have the privilege of choosing who I conduct business with.”

Well, fuck. The universe was sounding a lot less magical and much bloodier, but that was to be expected. All power corrupts and it is usually the weak who suffer.

Will I become the same? Will I also accept these things if I manage to live long enough? Will that even be me or some twisted version of me?

“Thinking about it won’t do you any good. You and those like you have an opportunity many would destroy worlds for. While most integrations become nutrients for the powers of the myriad worlds, some throughout history have brought along changes and shook the foundations of existence. As long as one lives, one can change.”

“Thank you, old man. You have given me a lot of precious information. One last thing,” Alan willed the crystals he had gotten from the Wailers and the one from the Echidna to appear on the table. “Anything special about this?”

Old Greyheart frowned and took one of the crystals. He took a closer look for but a moment, then threw it back on the pile. Then he took the big one and did the same.

“Tainted mana, useless to you unless you want to poison yourself and die a very painful death. The System store you have access to can probably do something with them.”

Figured as much.

The old man stood up and Alan followed.

“It has been a pleasant chat, but I have customers now,” the old man said and opened the door. He stopped in the frame and Alan stopped a step behind.

“One last tip. The token given to you by the Bazaar is not that special, but to someone like you, it is a treasure beyond your wildest dreams. And it is very, very susceptible to change if its owner wills it. It is a nice thing to not carry a bag everywhere you go and that arm of yours, while enchanted, is lacking an enchantment.”

The old man stepped out and Alan followed, thinking over the last bit of advice. His head was full of jumbled thoughts and he needed some time to go over everything.

They appeared back in the Bazaar, the shops were different, but the old man’s hut still sat in the middle of the road. Two figures were waiting at the very front. A young woman with the palest white skin, dressed in a beautiful dress that looked almost ceremonial in its complexity. A silver piercing adorned her nose and multiple others glistened on her ears.

Her head was shaved and tattooed on the sides, with a single long midnight-black braid that started from the top of her head and disappeared into the wide collar of the baggy dress. The tattoos swirled from her neck and the sides of her head and seemed to gather to point at the edges of her closed eyes. Two glowing runes were etched into her eyelids.

A knight with armor of similar patterns as the dress stood respectfully behind. The armor was unlike anything Alan had seen, looking both ancient and worn, yet seamless and of a make so precise that the metal fell like liquid. The helm was completely featureless, a blank plate for a face, revealing only the bottom half of a mummified jaw. Alan’s gaze lingered on the knight’s bare sword – a curved dark blade that vaguely resembled his [Shadow Slash]. He could swear it was made of shadows and darkness instead of metal.

The woman bowed low and the knight behind did the same, “Addaoah Siastri greets the Undying Greyheart. May I take a moment of your precious time?”

Old Greyheart waved his hand in a greeting and sat down on his creaking chair.

“Thanks again, Old Greyheart,” Alan said, “I will bring some herbs from… home… next time. You might like them with your tea.”

“I will hold you to that, brat. You probably won’t be able to return here for a while, so don’t die too soon.”

“I won’t.”

Alan smiled and walked away, doing his best not to stare at the strange and intriguing pair. Her closed eyes turned to him and he half expected for the protection of the Bazaar to activate, but nothing happened. The woman and her guard bowed to him in recognition instead, as he passed, and he did the same albeit awkwardly.

He took a few steps down the street and looked back. The hut of Old Greyheart was gone.

Browsing the Bazaar was still fun, but knowing he had nothing to trade Alan decided to return to the Sanctuary for now. He didn’t want to test his luck further and meet someone who would rather dissect him.

The talk with Old Greyheart had given him a lot of information and also motivated him to explore more and search out the opportunities everyone was talking about. Most of all, he couldn’t wait to do some experimenting with his skills.

With a thought a stone like the one he had appeared on descended from the red skies and stopped in front of him. Alan stepped on it and sat down cross-legged as it shot into the skies.

Do you wish to leave the Bazaar?

Yes.

For now.