Watcher of Fate

Several days had passed since the caravan first encountered the Empire's Mechanical Legion. The journey continued, the caravan steadily making its way towards Frostspire. The landscape around them shifted from the flat plains to the undulating foothills that marked the approach to the towering mountains ahead. Each day brought them closer to their destination, the air growing cooler and the terrain more rugged.

The town of Windholm had come and gone, a bustling crossroads now eerily quiet. The signs of the Mechanical Legion's passage were unmistakable: deeply trodden ground where thousands of mechanical feet had marched and an eerie absence of wildlife. Animals had fled the area, leaving the land silent and still. The legion's presence was a constant reminder of the larger conflict with the Iron Horse just beyond their sight.

Owen, ever the knowledgeable guide, sat at the controls of the cart, deftly managing their steady pace. "Do you think we'll catch up to the legion?" Elara asked curiosity and a hint of concern in her voice.

Owen shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "Our caravan covers slightly less ground than a horse can in a day," he explained. "But the advantage is that we can maintain that pace indefinitely. The Mechanical Legion, on the other hand, doesn't stop at night. They move constantly, day and night, until they reach their destination."

Elara nodded, appreciating the insight. "That's impressive but also a bit unsettling. I can't imagine not stopping to rest."

"That's the advantage of being a machine, I suppose. No need for sleep or food. They just keep going," Owen replied, glancing at her with a knowing look.

As evening fell, the caravan made camp for the night. The routine of setting up camp had become almost second nature to everyone. The foothills provided a natural barrier against the wind, and the cool mountain air was invigorating.

Elara took her position for the night watch, her senses sharpened by days of practice and vigilance. The camp was quiet, the soft murmurs of conversation and the occasional crackle of the fire the only sounds. The sky was clear, stars twinkling overhead in a vast expanse of darkness. Elara stood guard, her eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. Her spirit crow perched invisibly on her shoulder.

The silence of the night was both calming and tense, a moment of peace in the midst of their journey. Elara's thoughts drifted to the days ahead and the challenges they might face. She knew that each step brought them closer to their destination, and each night of vigilance was a chance to hone her skills further.

As she stood guard, Elara decided to make use of the quiet time to practice her illusions. She called over Jaxon and Leila, who were also on watch. "Hey, want to see something interesting?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Jaxon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you have in mind, Elara?"

"I've been working on my illusions. It's a good chance to test them in a controlled environment," Elara replied, her voice confident.

Leila nodded, a smile playing on her lips. "Let's see what you've got."

Elara focused her mind, weaving the threads of **[Greater Illusions (Rare)]**. She created multiple copies of herself, each one moving independently. The illusions mirrored her exact appearance, down to the smallest detail. As the illusions danced around the camp, Jaxon and Leila watched in amazement.

"That's incredible," Jaxon said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I can't tell which one is the real you."

Elara grinned, satisfied with the reaction. "That's the point. In battle, it can confuse enemies and give me an edge."

Leila stepped closer, studying one of the illusions. "They're so lifelike. This will definitely be useful."

Despite the practice, Elara remained vigilant, her **[Awareness (Legendary)]** skill keeping her attuned to the surroundings. The landscape around them was a tapestry of subtle movements and sounds, each one adding to the overall picture of their environment.

Suddenly, Elara felt a blip in her awareness, a small disturbance that set her senses on edge. She focused intently, trying to pinpoint the source. Just as she was about to alert the others, the world around her began to fade away, the edges of her vision blurring and darkening.

---

Elara's senses slowly returned, and she found herself waking up in a place that felt oddly familiar. The soft, comforting embrace of her bed in Barrowbridge enveloped her, and the gentle morning light streamed in through the window, casting warm patterns on the walls. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw the concerned face of her father, Harold, peering down at her. His hand rested gently on her forehead, checking her temperature.

"Elara, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" Harold's voice was soft and soothing, filled with paternal concern. "You've had quite a fever for the last few days. We had to get a healer to come see you."

Elara blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. "I... I feel a bit disoriented, but otherwise okay, I think."

Her father's expression remained serious but relieved. "The healer was worried about hallucinations and memory loss due to your high temperature. You've been talking in your sleep, and it sounded like you were having a grand adventure."

"An adventure?" Elara echoed, her mind still foggy. Fragments of her recent experiences—caravans, the Mechanical Legion, and fierce battles—flitted through her thoughts, but they seemed distant and unreal in the familiar setting of her childhood home.

Harold nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yes, you were speaking of incredible things. Magical skills, grand quests, and even a Mechanical Legion. The healer said it might just be your imagination running wild due to the fever."

Elara tried to reconcile the vivid memories with her current reality. "It all felt so real..."

Her father gently stroked her hair. "Rest now. The healer said you need to regain your strength. You're safe here, and we'll take care of you."

Elara lay back, trying to relax, but a lingering sense of unease gnawed at her. She instinctively tried to pull up her status screen, a familiar mental gesture, but nothing appeared. Panic flared briefly in her chest.

She tried again, more deliberately this time, but still, nothing happened. As she lay there, she heard a nearly inaudible voice, just a whisper on the edge of her consciousness, but she couldn't make out any of the words. Her concern grew, and she turned to her father.

"Dad, I can't pull up my status screen," she said, her voice edged with worry.

Her father looked at her with mild confusion before his expression softened. "Of course not, Elara. Your choosing ceremony isn't for another week. You haven't been granted your status yet."

Elara's mind raced, trying to reconcile his words with her memories. Something felt deeply off, but the warmth of her father's presence and the familiarity of her home were so comforting. She wanted so desperately for everything to be normal, for her parents to be alive, and for the destruction of Barrowbridge to be a bad dream.

She forced herself to ignore the nagging doubts, choosing to believe in the comforting reality before her. As her father continued to soothe her, she felt her eyelids growing heavy once more. The fatigue from her fever and the emotional turmoil of her confusion took their toll, and she found herself drifting back to sleep, clinging to the hope that this was all real.

Elara slipped into unconsciousness, her mind a whirl of fragmented thoughts and half-remembered dreams.

She was woken up by a gentle but firm shake. Opening her eyes, Elara saw her mother, Astrid, standing by her bed. Astrid was a strong, muscular woman with a warm, comforting presence. Her mother’s calloused hands and determined gaze always filled Elara with a sense of security.

"Wake up, Elara," Astrid said with a smile. "You need to get ready. Today is your Class Selection day."

Elara blinked, momentarily disoriented, but the sight of her mother filled her with a deep sense of peace. "Class Selection day? Already?"

Astrid nodded. "Yes, it's a big day for you. Now hurry up and get dressed."

Elara got out of bed, her earlier confusion pushed aside by the excitement and importance of the day. She quickly dressed and joined her parents, Harold and Astrid, in the main room of their home. Together, they made their way through the bustling streets of Barrowbridge.

The town was alive with activity. The cobblestone streets were lined with timber and stone houses, their shingled roofs a familiar sight. Every corner of Barrowbridge seemed to be teeming with life, as townsfolk moved about, preparing for the day's significant events. Market stalls were set up along the streets, vendors calling out their wares, while children ran and played, their laughter echoing through the air. The scent of fresh bread and blooming flowers mingled, creating a sense of warmth and community.

They arrived at the large temple at the center of town. The temple was an imposing structure of stone and timber, its tall spires reaching towards the sky. Intricate carvings adorned the wooden beams, and colorful banners fluttered in the breeze. The sound of chanting and the smell of incense filled the air, creating an atmosphere of reverence and anticipation.

Elara and another boy her age were led up to the altar by the priest. The boy had a nervous look on his face, his eyes darting around the grand hall. Elara felt a mix of excitement and anxiety, but the presence of her parents nearby gave her strength.

The priest, an elderly man with a kind face and deep, wise eyes, stood before the gathered townspeople. He raised his hands, and the crowd fell silent.

"Welcome, everyone, to this sacred ceremony," the priest began, his voice carrying through the hall. "Today, we gather to witness the Class Selection of these two young souls, Elara and Darian. This is a significant moment in their lives, a time when they will discover their paths and destinies."

The priest turned to Elara and Darian, his gaze warm and encouraging. "The ritual you are about to undergo will reveal your true potential and align you with the class that best suits your skills and aspirations. Trust in the process and let your inner strength guide you."

He gestured to the altar, where two glowing crystals rested. "Place your hands upon the crystals and focus your minds. The light within will resonate with your essence and reveal your class."

Elara took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. She glanced at Darian, who gave her a tentative smile, and then looked back at her parents, who nodded encouragingly. With a final, steadying breath, she stepped forward, ready to begin the ritual.

As soon as her hands touched the glowing crystal, the world around her shifted. She found herself standing in a dark room, the blackness so deep it seemed to absorb all light. In the center, several stone rings encircled her, each ring lined with figures dressed in a myriad of outfits. The figures represented the many class choices available to her, each one exuding a unique aura.

A sudden rush of air startled her, and she looked up just in time to see a crow flying past her head, its wings creating an eerie whispering sound in the stillness. Elara's heart raced, the unexpected presence of the bird adding to her confusion.

Then she heard it again—the voice she had heard before. This time it was louder, the words almost discernible. "The sea is not steel." The phrase made no sense to her, and the cryptic message only added to her growing sense of unease.

Shaking off the confusion, Elara turned her attention back to the figures surrounding her. She tried to focus, to remember the discussions she had had with her parents about which class to choose. But her mind came up blank, as if a fog had descended, obscuring her memories.

The figures in the stone rings seemed to beckon her, each one a potential path, a destiny waiting to be claimed. Elara took a step forward, her mind swirling with uncertainty. She knew she had to make a choice, but the lingering words and the crow's unsettling presence made her question the reality of the situation.

With determination, she tried to shake off the confusion and focus on the task at hand. The faces of her parents, their encouraging smiles, flashed in her mind. She needed to remember their advice, but the more she tried, the more elusive the memories became.

Elara stood in the center of the rings, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. The figures waited silently, their varied outfits and auras a stark reminder of the many paths she could take. She took another deep breath, trying to clear her mind and make sense of the disorienting scene around her.

Suddenly, the voice broke into her head again, louder and more insistent. "They see, not meal." The cryptic message made her flinch, but she pushed the sound away, determined to focus on her choices.

Her father was a merchant; he probably wanted her to continue on his path. Elara scanned the figures, searching for one that looked like her father. Her eyes settled on a figure dressed in practical, travel-worn clothing, carrying a large pack filled with various goods. The resemblance to her father was uncanny.

Travelling Merchant (Uncommon)

Elara reached out for the figure, but a sudden wave of unease washed over her. Something about the decision didn't feel right. Her mind was clouded with doubt. Just as she hesitated, the voice intruded again, more distorted than before. "The tea is not real."

She shook her head, trying to dispel the confusion. She needed to concentrate on her class selection. Maybe she had spent so much time in the library because that was her true calling. Maybe her parents wanted her to be more than them, to pursue a path of knowledge and wisdom.

Elara searched among the figures until she found one that seemed to mirror her own appearance, dressed in scholarly robes, holding a book and a quill.

Scholar (Common)

She stared at the figure, contemplating the choice. The scholarly path seemed logical, a continuation of her love for learning. But as she pondered, a loud cawing sound echoed through the dark room, startling her.

The crow swooped down, circling her head before landing on a figure in the back row. This figure was dressed in a white hooded cloak, exuding an aura of mystery and strength. The crow's presence on the figure drew Elara's attention, and she couldn't help but feel an inexplicable draw towards it.

Elara squinted, trying to discern more details about the white hooded figure. It stood slightly apart from the others, almost as if it were waiting for her specifically. The crow cawed again, as if urging her to consider this choice.

Compelled by an undeniable pull, Elara walked towards the figure. As she got closer, she looked into the face of the hooded figure and gasped. Staring back at her was a mirror image of herself. The resemblance was uncanny, more precise and detailed than the Scholar figure, which now seemed like a rough sculpt from memory.

Focusing on the white-cloaked figure with the crow perched on its shoulder, she saw a title appear before her eyes.

Watcher of Fate (Rare)

The figure unfroze and began to speak in the voice that had been hounding her. "This is not real," it said, and Elara's eyes widened in recognition. It was her own voice.

In an instant, memories came flooding back to her: the harrowing adventure in the Barrowdeep dungeon, Sera guiding her as she joined the Adventurers' Guild, and the familiar presence of the spirit crow linked to her sword.

Skill [Memory Shelf (Uncommon)] level increased.

Elara took a deep breath, the haze lifting from her mind. She reached out and selected the class. The world around her shifted again, and she found herself back in the temple with her parents standing nearby.

She looked at her parents, their faces filled with warmth and love, and a deep sorrow welled up inside her. She wanted this to be real more than anything. She longed for the safety and comfort of her family, for the reality where Barrowbridge was untouched and her parents were alive and well. The desire to stay in this dream, to accept this false reality, tugged at her heart with an almost unbearable force.

But she knew the truth. She had to face it, no matter how painful.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling with emotion, her eyes filling with tears. "But you're not real. This isn't real."

As she spoke, a tear slid down her cheek, the ache of her loss piercing her heart. The warmth of her parents' presence was something she had yearned for since their loss, and now rejecting it felt like losing them all over again.

The reality around her began to shatter, the temple and her parents dissolving into shards of glass. The pieces fell away, leaving her in a void once more.

You gained a new skill: Lvl 1 Mental Resistance (Uncommon).

Compatible skills found: Memory Shelf (Uncommon) and Mental Resistance (Uncommon), Merging skills...

A new skill was created: Mental Bastion (Rare). It has overwritten Memory Shelf's class slot.