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B3C80 - Epilogue
🕑 Added 2024-03-12 01:00:02 +0000 UTCCerry’s cheeks flushed with excitement as she found her place in the line. Despite promising herself she wouldn’t, she’d gotten up early this morning, rolling from her sheets at the first sign of light. Her mother had laughed and shaken her head when she realised who was in the kitchen making breakfast. She understood, after all, it had been the same for her. It wasn’t easy to lie still on the day you became an adult!
Her mother and father were here now, somewhere in the crowd behind her, along with the families of every other person she knew from Shadetown who was Awakening today.
She’d hoped that Flynn would be able to make it… but he was probably working, even though Master Almsfield had told him he didn’t have to. It was difficult to keep a pout from her face. Being diligent was one of the things she liked about him, but it would have been nice if he’d pulled himself away from those cores just for today.
No matter. The young woman shook her head and drove the negative thoughts out of her mind. Nothing was going to ruin her day today!
The line shuffled forward as someone stepped away from the crystal and another took their place. The young man was smiling slightly, so he must have been happy with his Class. That was good! Cerry’s heart leapt in her chest and she clamped both her hands together to try and keep it still.
Don’t get too excited! Just accept whatever comes your way!
“Keep the line nice and orderly! No cuts! Hey! I said no cuts! Don’t give me that look, young lady, I’ve been running this event since before you were born, I know a cutter when I see one!”
Old man Jissel was his usual self, marching up and down the line, swinging his cane at everyone who dared to put a foot out of place. When he came alongside her, his frown softened for a moment.
“Cerry Tiln, all grown up! Where does the time go? I remember when your mother and father came for their Awakening.”
“Nice to see you again, Mr Jissel. How’s your wife, Gelda?”
“Taking too long to get out of bed,” the old man harrumphed, “says her hips hurt. As if mine don’t!”
“I’m sure she’s just doing her best to take care of herself,” Cerry said as tactfully as possible.
The old man looked as if he wanted to say something, then thought better of it.
“You’re probably right. I’m too busy taking care of other things. Like this line! I’m watching you Jessup! You shift sideways again and I’ll give you a reason to lean on that leg!”
“Everyone is just impatient is all,” she tried to soothe him, knowing it was useless. “It’s a big day for all of us.”
“Of course it is! I’m trying to help. A good Awakening goes ten times faster if people just stick to the line and don’t make a fuss.”
He spat to one side.
“Bah. I may as well warn you now, you’ll need to register your Class today, so you might as well get it done before you leave. See over there,” he pointed toward the edge of the square where several tents had been erected, marshalls patrolling in front. “They have clerks in there who can perform the status reading for you, then you come back and hand it to me.”
“Today? Isn’t there usually a three day wait?”
There always had been before, she was sure of it. Her family was waiting for her to return so they could go and eat together. Father had booked a table at the Boar’s Knees! Cerry could taste their famous potato and gravy already.
Jissel brought his large eyebrows together in a fierce frown.
“I don’t know why, but they’re insisting on it. Breaking with tradition for no good reason! That three day grace period is our gods-given right! Who doesn’t go out and get pissed after their Awakening? If you aren’t too hungover to function the next day, you aren’t celebrating right! That’s what the third day is for, getting all the blasted paperwork done. Anyway, it’s not my business if the authorities want to stick their noses in where they don’t belong.”
He reached up to pat Cerry on the arm.
“Nice to see you again, girl. Good luck with your Awakening. I’d best get back to managing these hooligans. Yes, that means you, Jessup! I couldn’t give a hairy rat's ass if you're my grandson!”
She gave him a small wave as he limped down the line, still hollering at his poor relative, and then it was time to take another step forward. Not long now! She was so close.
Calm down, Cerry. Don’t get too carried away!
Honestly, she had played the same game as every other young person in the empire, trying to decide which was the perfect Class, the one that suited her best. Whereas others had flitted from favourite to favourite, wanting to be a slayer one day, to a merchant the next, then back to a slayer. The boys always wanted to be slayers.
She’d never really settled on a favourite. Even now, she didn’t know what she wanted. As long as she was able to keep working in Master Almsfield’s store, keep working with Flynn, then she would be happy. Life was good right now, and she didn’t see any reason to wish that away.
Another step and she was closer again to the front. After a moment, she realised she was bouncing on her heels, and forced herself to stop. The time would come on its own, no need to fuss about it! To distract herself, she scanned the crowd again. People had formed into a rough circle around the line, with the bulk of the watchers gathered around the stone at the front. Most were content to wait at the back, but some people really wanted to see the moment their son or daughter lay their hands on the stone.
So many people she recognised from the area, and many she didn’t, people who’d travelled in from other areas of the city or even from the surrounding countryside.
Wait a second… was that? It was.
Flynn smiled at her bashfully and gave a small wave from the back of the crowd. She felt herself blush as a wide grin broke out on her face. She waved back to him wildly, and he grinned back at her before catching himself and moderating his expression. He was just too shy for much of a public display of affection, but she was so pleased to see him.
Now the day was perfect and her heart swelled until it was fit to burst.
Maybe after she received her Class, he would formally propose?! He’d already asked her father for permission to court her, but surely he wasn’t ready for the next step already?
No, of course he wasn’t. This was Flynn she was thinking about. There was no chance he was going to ask her to marry him until he’d finished his apprenticeship.
Another step, and suddenly Cerry was the next in line. The person in front of her, a young woman named Heather, walked forward, listened to a few words from Jissel, who’d made his way back to the front, and then placed her hands on the glowing stone.
She was next! Excitement fluttered in her stomach to the point she feared she might throw up.
Get a grip Cerry, give it a few minutes, and it’ll all be over.
She focused on taking deep, slow breaths, like her mother had told her, and it helped a little.
“Are you alright there, Cerry?” old man Jissel asked her with a knowing smile. “There’s nothing to worry about, you’ll see.”
He turned back to Heather, who had just removed her hands from the stone.
“Don’t forget to head over and have your status read. Thank you, lass. Alright, Cerry. Up you come.”
He was being so kind, and it was so out of character for him, it jolted her back to her senses. With a confident step, she walked forward, took a deep breath and placed both of her hands down on the Awakening stone.
Instantly, her awareness was stolen away and taken to a world of white. This was expected, her family had described their own experiences to her, so she’d known this was coming, though nothing could prepare for just how immediate the transition had felt. Any moment now, she would hear the words of the Unseen and her Class would be granted.
Except. Her family had never told her of this lingering darkness, a shadow on the edge of her mind. It sent a chill through her. Then came the words, each syllable rippling through her mind, warping her soul like a stone tossed into a lake.
Cerry Tiln. You are a bright spark, a pinpoint of light within the darkness who brings joy where others seek to bring misery.
Gradually the tone and timbre of the voice changed, growing colder, more vicious with each word.
So light you will bring to those who need it most. You seek to experience joy and spread it to others. This desire shall be granted.
You have received the Class: Spirit Speaker.
The messenger of the dead, the Spirit Speaker can talk to the ghosts of the deceased, summon them from their restless wandering and grant release from their suffering, in exchange for loyal service. To increase your proficiency, you must engage in the core pursuits of the Class; speak with the dead and give them purpose in your service.
Class Attribute per level:
Manipulation +2;
Presence +1;
Poise +2;
Skills granted level one:
Spirit Speech.
It burned in her mind, more than she expected. Were she connected to her body, she might have cried out, but as it was she couldn’t emit a sound as the Unseen engraved the Class upon her.
Bewildered, she tried to comprehend what had just happened. What did those words mean? What Class had she received?
It didn’t make sense.
In a flash, it was over, she returned to herself with a start, staring in confusion at her hands pressed into the surface of the stone.
She withdrew them in a daze, then turned. To her left, Old man Jissel watched her, his kindly smile fading into concern as she didn’t react. Unbidden, tears came to eyes, but still she didn’t move, completely lost.
With a gentle hand, the old man drew her to the side and waved for the next person to step forward.
“It’s alright child. No matter what, your life will go on, you don’t have to worry, regardless how bad it seems right now,” he told her softly.
He turned and glanced over his shoulder. Towards the tents, she realised. In that moment, a new fear was born in her heart. Was this Class illegal? It had to be. Surely.
So she would lose her Class. It was almost a relief, she didn’t want this burden.
Then, a new fear was born.
People had been disappearing all over Shadetown for weeks. She would have had to have had her head buried in the sand not to notice, to see the fear in the eyes of everyone she spoke to. Everyone knew someone who had been taken, and she was no exception. A terrible thought surfaced in her mind, and once she had acknowledged it, there was no hope it would release her.
Will it really end with giving up the Class? Normally it would. But what about now?
She grew even more pale, and Jissel tightened his grip on her shoulder until she looked at him.
“Don’t worry about the registration right now,” he told her. “Head back to your family and I’ll let them know to follow up with you later, alright? Remember, it’s never as bad as it seems.”
With a gentle push, he urged her away, back down the line. One look at her face and those still waiting thought they knew what had happened. Sympathetic looks and words were sent her way, but Cerry couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge them. Even Flynn, desperately trying to get her attention from the crowd, could distract her from the terror rising in her chest.
What was she going to do?
~~~
All across the empire, the number of illegal Classes Awakened rose more than ten times. Dark Sorcerers, Death Mages, Rot Soldiers, Raven Eyed and many, many more. Classes not seen for hundreds of years, some not for thousands. Magisters were forced into the depths of their libraries to seek the records of some, coming up empty handed at times.
Thieves and bandits proliferated alongside other, more mundane illegal Classes.
Despite their preparations, it was impossible for the Marshals, even with the help of the Church of the Divines, to catch them all. Many families awoke to find a child had slipped away in the night, vanishing into the darkness, a brief note on the kitchen table, never to be seen again.
Many were forced to abandon their Classes. Many others were taken for questioning, leaving anxious parents waiting for days, which turned to weeks, then to months, with no word of their children.
In a small mountain town in the far western edge of the Empire, the youth lined up to place their hands upon a very different Awakening stone, a stone that had once been a person. Here, there were no magisters, no priests, not of the Five, and the Classes received were just as rare, just as dark.
Bone Smiths. Flesh Tuners. Corpse Weavers.
And Necromancers.
Comments
Suastes Jiménez Miguel Angel
Poor Cerry, but she is at the beginning of a new world.
Gopard
Thanks for the chapter!
Wiggles1
Huh, Rot Soldiers and Raven Eyed sound explicitly like Old God classes. Dark sorcerers might be Abyssal. But no mention of the bloody bois.
Kain
He can swap subclasses out whenever he wants as long as he gets a new one offered
Nathan Sto
Huh. Materials are going to be an issue. Maybe lost of people die relatively quickly, but there really aren't enough dead folks to fuel this after everything settles down. Also, it's a shame that Tyron got his death mage subclass early. He probably could have gotten a more suitable one after this event.
Andrew
Thank you!
