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Stumbling Up 2: A Loser's Guide to Progression - Chapter 13: Keepsake
🕑 Added 2025-11-14 14:00:19 +0000 UTC"Thank the Everbear those ammonites had fresh air in them." Ash’s muted voice floated through the dream.
"Young lady, we need to talk about what you did." A mildly slurred elderly voice demanded.
Sleep, Cole. Richard's weight rested against my chest. He'd taken to sleeping on me like Rags, the old barn cat. She'd lay on my chest with wheezing purrs, and snaggle toothed bad breath. Richard's slime was a minor downgrade. Sleep. His fangs bit into my neck, sending me back into the void.
The next time I drifted into consciousness, it was to the smell of barbecue. Fat bubbled on the smokeless stove. Richard was gone. A haunch of the ox was gone.
"Miracle of miracles, he awakes!" Shifting my head, the speaker, the old man came into view.
He looked worse for wear, squinting at me as though plagued by a headache. No, a hangover. He’d propped up his leg. The sweat-stained bandage smelled of infection.
I made to sit up, but he leaned over, putting a hand on my chest, shaking his head.
Despite the suckling cloth tipped between my lips, my mouth was dry, my throat scratchy.
"Water?" I croaked. My lips were salt-rimmed.
"Aye, that's been a challenge, but here you go." He dipped a canteen towards my mouth. Blessed fresh water filled my mouth. "Quiet now, I’ve finally managed to put them all asleep."
I swallowed mouthful after mouthful until my [First Aid] skill nudged me. Any more and I might be sick. Suppressing a cough, I asked the obvious.
"You're on watch?" Tilting my head, I could see his rueful smile as he took a prolonged gulp for himself.
“A self-appointed watch, I’d say. My granddaughter and I may not have been the most honest of travelers to join your group. I put everyone to sleep using a skill, [Dreamless Sleep]. Took a while to do it in a way that didn’t raise suspicion, especially from Argin.” Pops looked down at his sleeping granddaughter. Whoever or whatever he was, he assuredly loved her.
I'd never heard of a skill that affected a group of people like this. It sounded like magic. I kept the thought to myself as the man continued. "I thought it worthwhile to let everyone rest, but I also wanted a moment with you, son."
He stopped talking, taking another swill from the canteen. Silence descended as he shifted. The man opened his mouth twice, as though trying to find the right words for whatever he was going to say.
For once I wasn't in a hurry, perfectly content to consider myself. We were still in the bubble, shifting light of the ocean danced above me. Lying close to the fire had warded off the [Chill] effect, and remarkably I had no temperature-based debuffs. Notifications flashed in the corner of my vision, but I wasn't in a hurry to get to them. Instead, I breathed in the sweet air, feeling the grit of sand under my fingers. I was enjoying being alive.
"I'm sorry." He'd finally found the words; however, they weren't what I expected. To my surprise, tears coursed down his ruddy cheeks. “I'm sorry to Kreana, and to you.”
We sat there in silence. He handed me the canteen again. I wasn’t sure why he was apologizing, but I don’t know if it was my injury or a skill, but I wasn’t going anywhere.
The man muttered a word, and a crystal whiskey glass sat in his hand. The amber liquid sloshed as he swirled it. “If you haven't guessed already, I'm a [Mage]. An [Archmage] in fact.”
I hadn’t guessed, which I kept to myself. My mind raced through what little I actually knew about mages and it was embarrassingly little. An [Archmage] was a [Sage] of magic and most specialized in some sort of domain.
That was it. No revelations. Although I did have two burning questions.
"Why didn't you help us?" I croaked, pouring a little more water into my mouth. He nodded at my question, as though expecting it.
"And I thought you’d ask the other questions first. Well." He snapped his fingers, a blue flame appearing. "My specialty isn't particularly useful in a water dungeon." Opening his hand, the flame floated above his palm, and with a wave of his fingers, it dissipated. “Go on, ask the other question. That one’s more interesting.”
“Why are you still here?” Most mages had some sort of [Teleport] spell or skill. An [Archmage] most assuredly did. It was their primary ability that kept them alive in a world that valued steel over magic.
“Thank you, lad, for asking that question. It’s got a far more interesting answer.” He took a sip of his whiskey. “Ah, yes, nice and dry with a bit of vanilla. I knew I’d grabbed a bottle of rye the last time I was in Cersapil.” He looked down at me, and I saw the power in his eyes. I was helpless before this man.
“It is commonly known among [Mages] that we're a dying class. We have lost the ability to create spells. In a world of skills, who needs the spellcrafters? Roughly five hundred spells survived the cataclysm, and I’d say we’re down to the odd three hundred in circulation.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Pops looked down at me and smiled as he took another sip.
“Don’t you remember? You asked.” Before I could interject that I did not, in fact, ask for a magic history lesson, he continued. “I’d heard rumors of the [Immortal] slug, and the price paid by the last age, but like most myths I’d just dismissed them. And here, on my last visit to the Hunt, on a no name caravan back to civilization, I find him hanging out with [Your Mom’s Party] chased by a [Legendary] dungeon?”
“It was too delicious to ignore. At first I thought it was you. Your build is interesting. I’ve never seen a [Dead Wrong] class—brave choice, boy. But there’s nothing that sets you apart from the thousands of [Adventurers] I’ve met in my life other than a small tenacity to stay alive.”
A finger tapped at his glass restlessly.
I moaned a little as I sat up slowly. Bandages held my bare chest together. The skin below was tight.
“And yet you continue to throw off my magic. [Restrain].” As he spoke the word, my muscles clenched again. At least, however, I was upright. “Our time grows thin, so I will get to the point. No one new spell has been recorded since the turning of an age, and yet here —” He pointed to my bandaged chest. “—is a spell from a simple girl from the frontier that I’ve never seen before. A progressive healing spell.” He spoke the words with a sense of wonder.
"I don't see what this has to do with me or our situation." All of this drama over Tandy’s spell? I searched around for Richard, if one of us could ward off an [Archmage] it would be him. My muscles trembled, weak, as though everything had been used to mend what had been broken. "Where's Richard?"
The blue glow of the fire reflected coldly in the man's face.
"He'll rejoin us in a moment." A shiver ran up my back that had nothing to do with the chilled air. Tandy, Ash, Meredeath, Leyla, and even Argin were slumped in the sand. It was as though they'd collapsed mid-sentence. "I love my granddaughter. Do you love anyone, Cole?"
"Of course—" I started to respond, but the man waved me off.
"I don't mean superficial love. I mean deep down, I'd die for that person to continue on in the world, love. That's what I feel about Argin. She'd the last of my line. My daughter passed last year to a wasting sickness, and Argin's all I have left." He absentmindedly petted her dark hair, as though she were a sleeping child. Maybe to him she was.
When he turned back to me, I saw the ghost of a man. Hollow, power-hungry, wrinkled eyes looked as though he’d sacrificed much on the altar of magic.
Did I love anyone like that? I thought I'd loved Leo and Tandy with that self-sacrificing passion, but the split in our party challenged that assumption. My heart thumped in my chest.
"I'd die for my sister," I said finally. I loved my family, but it was Share that'd always held a soft spot in my heart. "Share, she's got this beauty of soul. She’s getting married, and I’d do anything to make sure her future was a happy one."
He nodded, "I hear it in your words." His tone was low, mournful. "I hear it in your words." My heart thumped hard, as though worrying over an unspoken fear. "I feel that way about Argin."
“Why are you telling me this?” I slowly looked around, trying to find anything I could use as a weapon. It was a hopeless pursuit. My sickbed held nothing but the canteen. I slowly brought it to my mouth, delaying the inevitable conclusion to the conversation.
“I kept us here out of curiosity. The fabled slug.” His voice trailed off in awe before he returned to the thread. “It’s odd being a 'powerful' [Archmage], to have power but never enough. I couldn't save the caravan. Lost my toe trying." He pointed to a bloody bandage that sat a few feet away from him, which I assumed contained said toe. “I sit here with a choice between the person I love above all others in the world, and the reimagining of the profession I've dedicated my life to.”
"I don't understand."
Cole, he's going to—Richard's mental voice cut off in a gurgling scream. I looked, realizing where he was. A flash of yellow flickered in the ocean as a school of sharp-finned silver fish flashed after him.
“There’s so much power in her, so much promise, Cole.” He looked at me, his eyes haunted. “[Teleport] only works for two, and I curse myself for not taking Argin to safety sooner.”
The [Mage] shifted, a small dagger in his hand as he took a lock of Argin's hair. I tried to move, to stop him, but I was still [Restrained]. Every muscle locked into place to move at best at a snail’s pace. I tried to ask another question, but my jaw clenched as the canteen fell into the sand.
I couldn't ask him another question. I couldn't scream my anger. I couldn’t delay what was next.
He shuffled to stand above Tandy's prone form, giving me a half smile.
"I don't know if you can do this without her." He waved to Tandy. As he turned to face me, the ominously powerful [Archmage] dropped away. Here stood Pops, the grumpy grandfather. "But try. Bring me Argin whole and safe. Do this, and I will lay the world at your feet."
With one last mournful look at Argin, he muttered [Teleport] and vanished.
Tandy was gone.
My muscles unclenched as I dragged my body to the sand impression Tandy'd left. A lone lock of her auburn hair sat, wrapped with a green ribbon.
[[Restrain] has ended.]
[[Subterfuge] has ended.]
[[Mirage] has ended.]
[[Weaken] has ended.]
[You are no longer under the effect of an [Archmage] aura, all stats return to normal.]
Vitality began filling my body as his spells and influence fell away. The rest of [Your Mom's Party] started shifting, as his [Dreamless Sleep] spell falling off of them.
Argin was the first to regain true consciousness. She looked around in horror.
"What has he done?"
Comments
Reck Well
Dun duuunnn duuuuuunnnnnnn
Stacy F
Well damn, that took a turn.
