Beta Chapter 8

Cal hit the water hands first, hitting a coil of the Norlock’s tentacle.

I only have an instant before it shifts its attention to me, I have to go for it’s core.

Norlocks had six strong tentacles that they used to reel in their prey to a bulbous main body that they kept hidden near the riverbed. There it would extend a beak and slice it’s dead prey into bite-sized pieces.

The main body was where it housed all it’s vital organs under a fleshy sack.

Cal tugged on the tentacle wrapped around the village elder, pulling himself closer ot the creature’s main body, holding the knife in front of himself.

A second later he felt himself bump into soft flesh.

Cal started slashing, putting every ounce of muscle into his swings, rendered slow by the water resistance.

The water began to taste coppery

Cal couldn’t see anything.

Pain shot up Cal’s shoulder as one of the tentacle’s mouths clamped around it.

Cal kept hacking away at the main body, feeling Juka’s fishing knife slash through the soft skin of the creature over and over again

You have manifested Knife-Work!

Knife-Work has reached Level 1!

Level 1: Boosts handling and sharpness of knives, 5% correction

Remaining Warp 1/12

Cal didn’t have time for frustration as he continued hacking away at the creature hiding behind a veil of silt, hacking away, because his life depended on it.

The pain in his shoulder throbbed as the creature tried to wrap a tentacle around him and push him away. Norlock tentacles were designed to pull things in, however, not push them away, so Cal was able to stand his ground underwater with a bit of effort and continue stabbing.

Running out of breath! Cal’s vision was starting to cover with sparks as he ran out of air. the Norlock didn’t feel like it had gotten much weaker either.

I need more air! Cal knew if he tried to swim upward, then the norlock would have him right where it wanted. There was no way to get more air…

What if I make some?

In a desperate bid, Cal reached up with his mind and used two Bent to connect himself with the air he knew was above the water’s surface.

Splitting.

Dupdomancy has reached Level 3!

Level 3: 9 pounds, 15 minutes.

Bent 3/7 remaining.

He copied the air above them, and for an instant, he and the Norlock were completely surrounded by air, and in the dim light filtering down from above, Cal could make out the creature’s hateful eyes glaring at him, and its other four tentacles bringing Juka closer to its beak.

He had been slicing it’s upper torso to ribbons, a spot closer to the beak where there was more protective skin in case a creature was still struggling.

Cal sucked in a huge breath an instant before the river-water crashed down on them again in a wave that painfully slammed into him. I need to be lower, Cal thought, desperately pulling on the norlock’s tentacle to get himself deeper.

He oriented himself where he last saw the creature’s eye and began stabbing in a wild pattern. After the fifth stab, the mouth around his shoulder jerked and let go before thrashing wildly.

Cal put the knife in his mouth and blindly swam in the direction he’d seen the norlock carrying Juka, feeling through the water for the feel of homespun fabric.

After a few seconds, his fingertips brushed against Juka, and he grabbed the old man’s clothes before pushing off the riverbed with enough force to strain his knees, old man in tow.

Cal broke the surface with a gasp, and found himself holding the elder by his pants. He reoriented and yanked his head above the water.

Juka gasped loudly, when his head broke the surface of the brown, silt-filled water, orienting himself in a matter of seconds, before the two of them swam at top speed toward the shore, sending up a shower of water from their soggy sleeves.

Cal made it to shore first, then hauled the shaking elder up onto the shore, whereupon the two of them crawled away from the waterline as quickly as they could.

Once they were far enough away, Cal dropped to the ground and groaned in pain, glancing at the shredded meat of his right shoulder.

At least it balances me out, he thought.

“I got another skill,” he said, laying his head back in the dirt and trying to get his breath back.

“Oh yeah?” the village elder asked, watching the serene brown water that didn’t seem to have any man-eating monsters in it at all. “Saving Wrinkled Old Men?”

“Knife-Work.” Cal said with a grimace. He hadn’t looked it up in advance, but the chances of it being Will based Skill were slim to none. Probably Kinesthetics.

“Well, it worked for me.” Juka said, snagging his fishing kit back from the bank and applying first aid to the bleeding puncture wounds in his arms and legs.

“I thought I was gonna spend twenty years as an elder, helping the people of the village, only to end my days as shit fertilizing the riverbed. Thanks.”

Cal grunted. The loss of the Warp he’d saved specifically for a Will skill was beginning to sink in. If he never got another Break, he’d have a damned hard time raising his Will to twelve to match his Mind.

I suppose it can be done. Dupdomancy is Will based, after all, so I’m not completely up Shit Creek without a paddle.

“How can I make us even?” Juka asked, drawing Cal’s attention to him.

“Can I get some sturdy lumber?” Cal asked, glancing over at the village elder.

“That’s it?”

“And a shovel, saw, drill, and some nails. Enough to build a house.”

“You’re really direct, kid. Most people lead with ‘I couldn’t possibly.’” Juka said with a toothless grin.

“I’ve got something I wanna do.”

Cal let Juka bandage him up then went hunting with Boros, learning the Hunting Warped Skill, before Karen found out about his wounds from the elder and dragged him back to the house to recover.

You have manifested Hunting!

Hunting has reached Level 1!

Level 1: Boosts locating and tracking prey, 5% correction

Remaining Warp 0/12

2nd Break complete

********

The days flew by and eventually Cal’s wounds healed, and life settled back into the sleepy routine of the village. Cal would wake up every morning, get whipped by Karen, then spend the rest of his day practicing his skills, make a bit of money working odd jobs and then spend the rest of the day working on his secret project. He stopped moving his sense of pain onto a rock to focus on Splitting, and suffered for it.

Hunting has reached Level 3!

Dupdomancy has reached Level 4!

Fishing has reached Level 3!

Knife-Work has reached Level 4!

Talking to Girls has reached Level 4!

Reading Expressions has reached level 3!

Stealth has reached Level 6! Limit reached.

Calvin didn’t get much practice with Acting, as busy as he was running around from place to place, but he always had time to chat with Persei or Mrs. Marshine. Cal was started to get an odd reputation among the men of the village, who would look at him suspiciously as he stopped to talk with the womenfolk.

It’s not like I wanted a skill for it. Cass was simply interested to see if there was a useful mutation for level five, and the extra Intuition would help, of course.

Once Karen found out he had a Skill with knives, she forced him to drop the sword and start learning knife tactics.

Thanks to the skill, shivs, throwing knives, daggers, and kitchen knives all felt surprisingly comfortable in his hand, and did exactly what he wanted them to do.

Still, knives were less than ideal in a fight, which Cal learned the hard way. Anyone who imagines an agile thief fighting a fully armored guard to a standstill with nothing but a knife is dead wrong. The blade was so short and the entire thing so light that it was damn near impossible to do anything with it. Too short to stab. Your reach was awful compared to the other guy. The knife was too light to block, it’d get torn right out of your hand. Sure you can parry, but only against thrusts to the torso. Knives sucked.

Knives weren’t meant to fight people with. If they were, they’d be swords.

And forget about nimbly leaping past Karen’s defenses and scoring a hit on her…she was faster than he was.

His skill at using Third eye was coming along. As he got used to it, he could feel which part of his body they were looking at and from what direction, which helped for about twenty minutes until Karen figured it out and started faking him out with where she was looking.

Cal wasn’t even sure she was consciously doing it.

Still, an actual fight with a stranger would only last a few seconds, definitely not long enough to intuit his ability and fake it out.

The days went by, blending together almost seamlessly, until Cal got a most interesting piece of news. About this year’s battle against the Ilethians.

***Calvin***

“What are we doing here?” Baroke grunted as they carefully rolled back the piece of sod.

“Well, you know how we’ve had a battle with the Ilethians every year for the last fifteen years, right?”

“Yeah, according to my dad, it’s ‘cuz the duplicitous bastards think we’re weak enough to take our land just because trade with Malkenrovia has stagnated. Every year they try to shave off a little bit for themselves.” Baroke said before he began loading dirt into the cart with a shovel.

Cal joined him, the two boys digging a roughly coffin-shaped hole in the ground, only about four feet deep.

“Well, I was in Surrak and I overheard that this year’s battle is expected to take place here.”

“Here!?” Baroke asked, glancing around. They were standing in the middle of a large clearing, far to the northeast of Surrak.

“It’s not for another couple days, I hear, don’t get excited.” Cal said.

“If the Hash’Maje finds us digging holes and planting strange objects in the battlefield, he’ll hang us as spies.

“Calm down, I’m friends with his daughter. Ten years of hard labor at the worst.” Cal hadn’t seen much from Kala since the incident. Her father must have become more protective since she’d almost been kidnapped in Deinos.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Cal’s exceedingly large friend said.

“Just keep shoveling, and we can get through this before either of us gets hanged.” Cal said.

“You’re a crazy son of a bitch.” Baroke said, shaking his head. Once they had a sufficient hole, they lowered Cal’s secret project into it. A very sturdy wooden box with air holes drilled into it.

“Yeah, well, waiting around for a bunch of dead people to fall into my lap isn’t exactly my style.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re planning on doing?”

“This is different.” Cal said. “I’m going where the dead people are.”

“Why not just join the army? I’m pretty sure you’re actually better than the average infantryman, care of your mom.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Fuck that, they’d put me on the frontlines. I mean, look at me,” Baroke gestured to himself. “I’m a golden god.”

“Bah. I want all the reward with none of the risk,” Cal said.

“Looting a battlefield seems pretty risky.”

“That’s not what this is…is it?”

“Kinda.”

They arranged the turf so it was flat, backfilling dirt as necessary. The two of them jumped up and down on the patch of earth, but it didn’t have any telltale sign of being hollow.

“Alright,” Cal said, lifting up the grass trapdoor and grabbing a waterskin from the cart filled with dirt. “I’ll see you in a week.”

“You’re seriously doing this?” Baroke asked.

“Baroke, I went around the village and asked everyone who had three breaks to share their story with me.”

“Yeah?”

“It always happened unexpectedly, when their town was raided by a swarm of monsters and a bunch of people died, or when a battle spilled over into their villages, and they were forced to hide in their wine cellar. Most people have one of those events in their lifetime, but do you really think that’s gonna happen anytime soon, in Deinos?

“Probably not.” Baroke said with a frown.

“And would you want to be a measly fifty year-old Peasant when that critical moment of your life happens, or would you rather already be a Veteran that can do something about it?”

“alright, alright, I get ya.” Baroke said, waving him off. “Just don’t get killed.”

“Tell Karen I’m in Surrak for a week, Ta,” Cal said, saluting Baroke with the water skin and crawling into his claustrophobic little box filled with supplies. A moment later he heard his friend snort and begin carting the displaced dirt away.

Leaving nothing but a empty field with some cart tracks crisscrossing it.

Cal rolled over and pulled out his light source, a glowing crystal from a subterranean lizard. He used the light to begin reading a book he’d saved just for this.

Day one: I Should have installed a latrine hole in this fucking thing. I had to open the door to let the stink out in the evening, and the puddle almost soaked my books.

Day two: managed to dig a large crack out between two slats, good enough for number one. Number two still proves challenging. Toiletries needed.

Day three: Heard voices as scouts surveyed the land. Opening door no longer feasible. Plenty of dried food and water left.

Day four: IT’S HAPPENING! The battle is going on directly above me, I can hear the clash of steel and the screams of the dying. The Warp is growing thick.

Three hours into the battle, I lost consciousness to a Break.

Spent the rest of the day practicing puzzles.

Your Mind has reached Level 13!

Remaining Warp 13/16

Your Mind has reached Level 14!

Remaining Warp 10/16

Your Mind has reached Level 15!

Remaining Warp 7/16

Your Mind has reached Level 16!

Remaining Warp 4/16

Your Mind has reached Level 17!

Remaining Warp 1/16

Now all I gotta do is wait for a couple days for the battle to clear. Cal crossed his arms and tried to zone out, reaching a relaxed state of mind despite the puddle of blood slowly oozing into his box from the grass above him.

Your Will has reached Level 9!

Remaining Warp 0/16

Day five: Heard looters rummaging around above me, and a few scuffles taking place. All the books I brought in with me are ruined except for Bekvah’s book of puzzles. I made sure to stack that one high enough that it didn’t get soaked in blood. Constant soaking has made my skin begin to slough off.

Day six: water is out, and the looters have slowed down drastically, when I hear the call of the Melchia bird again, I’ll know it’s time to leave.

…..

I heard the cry of the Melchia bird signifying sundown, but when I tried to open the lid of my box, it didn’t budge. Something died on top of my box. When I poke my fingers through the air holes, I feel horse hair.

There’s a dead horse on top of my box.

Okay, don’t panic. What do I have available? A long knife for self-defense, a light source, a piss-filled waterskin, and a bunch of books. And an inordinate amount of blood and shit soaking my clothes.

This plan could use some adjustment, assuming I live through this, and don’t just die here, unearthed a thousand years later as a mummy, displayed in an exhibit as ‘the stupidest man who walked the earth’.

Good times. Gotta go try to dig my way out of here. See you later, blood and shit-covered journal.

Calvin closed his ruined notebook and tossed it aside. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t forget his week in a shit-box

He scrunched himself up and crawled this way and that, testing each of his air-holes to see if there was horse on all of it.

Luckily, the three at the bottom left corner seemed to lack horse, so Cal grabbed his knife and got to work carving away the sturdy wood. his Knife-Work Skill made the wood peel away in large strips, but it was still going to take days to cut through the wood.

It’s either that or die, Cal thought, scraping away the strong door.

Day seven: Mental notes. Should have brought a freaking saw. Only managed to get through one panel and I need to do at least four more.

One a day isn’t going to cut it. A man will die after three days without water. My emergency stash of piss got knocked over while I slept and the blood in the bottom congealed into a giant scab.

Nothing left to drink now. possible fever setting in, too.

“I need a fucking saw.” Cal muttered as he shaved away at the second panel.

If his knife had sawblades on the back of it, he’d be out of here already.

“wait a minute,” Cal pulled the Crinka Lizard crystal out of the floor and studied his knife.

Is it possible? He thought, glaring hard at the knife.

He’d discounted dupomancy as a viable means to escape early on, as he hadn’t been able to make a strong lever to move the horse, or burst the door open with increased air pressure. He had hurt his eardrums with that, though.

Cal had reached up and grabbed the air from above him in the river. Who decided where air started and stopped? Cal hadn’t been thinking about it, but was air one thing or a bunch of smaller things, or…what?

What if Cal decided he only wanted to duplicate just this much of his knife, failing to copy a section of the back of the knife in a sawblade shape?

Cal closed his eyes and pictured himself encircling every part of the knife except for a razor sharp toothed section of its back.

Splitting.

Bent 4/7 remaining.

Dupdomancy has reached Level 5!

+1 to Will

Level 5: 25 pounds, 25 minutes.

Please choose an ability or mutation from the list of compatible ones.

A duplicate knife popped into existence in Cal’s hand, on its back were a series of unnaturally perfect saw teeth.

Dupdomancy has reached Level 5!

+1 to Will

Level 5: 25 pounds, 25 minutes.

Please choose an ability or mutation from the list of compatible ones.

Abilities:

Multi-split

Mass Split

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! I’m gonna LIVE!

Cal Ignored the prompt and put the blade up in the hole he’d made yesterday and started sawing with a vengeance.

Fifteen minutes later, Cal dragged himself up through the hole in the ground, pushing one of the dead horse’s legs out of the way. The horse was wrapped around his little hole, and so no one noticed him crawling out of it. he only had Bekvah’s book of puzzles and his knife. His clothes he’d decided to leave in the hole.

They weren’t gonna do anyone any good now.

Cal stood and glanced around. It was still dark out, but the sunrise wasn’t too far off, wisps of smoke and smoldering corpses dotted the plain where a magician had used a fire spell, or a particularly volatile chemical had combusted. Sometimes both.

Time to get the hell out of here.

Cal felt a familiar sensation on his left hand side.

“Hey, you!”

Cal flinched, glancing to his left, where five Gadveran soldiers were glaring at him from a wagon full of abandoned arms and armor.

“What are you doing here, boy?” the lead one asked around a pipe sending out a gout of smoke.

Cal had the kernel of an idea.

“Ummm…”

What do the abilities do again?

Multi-split, allows the user to duplicate several different objects simultaneously

Mass-split, allows the user to create multiple copies of one object to the limits of their skill.

Shaping. Allows the user to add mass to an object, increasing its size and partially modifying its shape.

Mutations:

Spacial aware-

Yeah, that’s plenty, I choose Mass Split.

….Fine…

You have applied Mass Split to your Dupomancy. Hope it works out well for you.

Oh, it will.

“I’m talking to you, boy!” the soldier said, getting angry.

Cal reached out and snagged the thickest chunk of smoke drifting from the pipe with two Bent, then decided to make fifty pounds of it.

Mass Split

Bent 2/7 remaining.

The air around the soldiers was replaced with fifty pounds of hot Loralei smoke, creating a billowing cloud that encompassed all of them, reducing them to hacking coughs.

Time to run. Cal turned the other direction and started running for the forest like his life depended on it, which at this point, it did.

“Looter! We’ve got a looter!” one of the soldiers said between coughs,

Cal heard the sounds of other soldiers picking up the cry as he put his head down and sprinted with everything he had.

Then he heard the dogs baying.

***Karen***

Karen was sitting in her rocking chair, sharpening her sword, even though it didn’t need it. She hadn’t used it in years, so the damn thing was plenty sharp.

She was nervous.

Cal had never been gone longer than a couple days. After she’d interrogated Baroke on the third day, he’d relented and told her where Cal was when she threatened castration. By then the battle had already started, so there was no way to find him and pull him out of his stupidity. She had to make the tough choice to wait for him to come back on his own, or hear word from Kala that he was being held for Warp-theft.

Profiting off of a battle in such a way as Baroke described was highly illegal and taboo, and the ruling class came down hard on anyone trying to do it.

Cal hadn’t known because where Karen was from, there was no such taboo, so she never stressed how morally bankrupt it was to profit from death like that.

In Gadvera, they believed that you absorbed the will of the dead along with their Warp, which gave the nobles a duty to protect their people.

In theory.

Karen wasn’t convinced. It seemed like an excuse for the nobles to shame anyone out of trying the same thing they were doing, but her cynicism might have gotten Cal killed.

She didn’t know if she could live with herself if she’d been responsible for his death.

Suddenly her front door slammed open with a bang, revealing Cal staggering into the doorway totally naked, covered in blood, reeking of shit, and emaciated. He clutched a book and knife to his chest in trembling hands.

Karen wanted to ask if he was okay, but she narrowed her eyes instead. He needed scolding more than anything else.

“What have you been up to?” She asked, picking up her greatsword. A couple hits with the flat of the blade might straighten him out.

“Winning,” Cal said with a grin before his eyes rolled back in his head and he toppled over.

“Oh, damnit,” Karen said, tossing aside her sword and catching him before he broke his head open on the slate floor of her cottage.

Now it’s all over my clothes.

“Is that Calvin?” Jinnei called from her bedroom.

“It is. Fetch me some soap and water.”

“How much?” Jinnei asked, peering out from her room in her nightgown.

“All of it.”

***Calvin***

Calvin opened his eyes to the light of dawn and sat up, groaning.

Oh sun, how I’ve missed you.

“Morning.” Karen said from her rocking chair.

Ah, crap.

“Have fun on your little adventure?”

“Not really, no.” Cal said. “It was the most miserable week I’ve ever experienced, bar none.”

“Well, at least you worked hard for that Break.”

“Hah, yeah.”

“But that’s not the way Gadverans see it. If Baroke tells anyone what you did, you’d find yourself a pariah in a day.”