Bog Standard Isekai

Book 2. Chapter 29

Book 2. Chapter 29

Brin opened his eyes to find himself back in Travin’s Bog. There was no roof over his head, just gray, cloudy sky and the walls around him were so cracked and crumbling that it took a moment before he recognized them as the walls to his old apartment. It was like his old home from earth had been transported to Travin’s Bog and then burned down with the rest of the town.

The sofa was there, and his computer desk, and all his other furniture, but it looked like a house fire had torn through it, leaving everything blackened.

The Child entered through the front door, and went straight into the kitchen, kicking pots and pans out of the way that spilled out of the burned-out cupboards. He opened the refrigerator, also black and melting on the outside, but surprisingly, the light turned on and the insides were totally fine.

This time he was wearing normal jeans and a t-shirt, but he was all gray. The jeans and t-shirt, but also his skin and hair. He was completely gray, like an old movie. He grabbed an orange creme soda from the fridge, then gave Brin a questioning glance. Brin nodded, and the Child threw him a drink.

“Why does it look like this?”

The Child shrugged. “The state of your soul is not the best, frankly.”

Brin nodded. “Makes sense. But why Travin’s Bog? If it’s somewhere from this world, it should be Hammon’s Bog.”

“I don’t think so. Travin’s Bog is where it all started. Death, pain, and fear… this place represents those things in your mind. I have a feeling Travin’s Bog is going to stick with you long after you’ve left Hammon’s Bog behind. Speaking of things you should have already left behind…”

The Child curled an eyebrow at the door just as the Scarred One came through. He kicked the door open, which fell off its hinges and shattered into charcoal on the floor. He was shirtless and covered in bloody bandages.

“No, I’ll wait my turn. You finish up with your stuff.” He walked over and jumped onto the blackened sofa, laughing in delight when a cloud of ash poofed into the air. The strain must’ve opened some wounds, because his bloody bandages turned a darker shade of red in places, but he paid it no mind.

The Child sat on the gamer chair, which still held his weight somehow. “What stuff? Oh, I guess I usually go over Achievements and stuff for you. You don’t have any new Achievements. [Murderer] is an Achievement, and you didn’t earn it. Figured you should know.”

“Thanks,” said Brin.

“I guess we should talk about [Memories in Glass]? I assume that’s the one you’re going to take.”

“Yeah,” said Brin. “Glass Evaluation would be useful if I had anything to use it on. The upgrade to [Summon Glass] is obviously tempting, but [Memories in Glass] is just too useful to pass up, since I can use it to remember what really happened after a [Witch] screws with my memory. Seems almost too perfect for my situation. Honestly, it’s a little suspicious.”

The Scarred One barked in laughter.

The Child spun around on the gamer chair. “Right, that’s not something that most [Glassers] will get at level 20. There were some steep requirements for that evolution, but you passed them by getting [Meditation] to 20, spending all that time processing your memories, and using something from a memory to make an improvement to your glass. Most people your age wouldn’t have quite so many memories to work with.”

“So we’re going with [Memories in Glass], then?”

“Up to you, obviously,” said the Child. He put on the headset and stared into the blank, broken computer screen.

“I’m up? Well, I don’t have all that much for you. Unless you reconsidered [Corpse Eater],” said the Scarred One, lounging on the blackened sofa.

Brin looked for a place to sit, and saw that one of the chairs at the dining table was still intact. Had it been there before, or was it there because he was looking for it? He picked up the chair and sat, opening his soda. It was sweet. Sweeter than he remembered, probably because he was in the world without processed sugar now.

“I have not reconsidered,” said Brin.

“You haven’t? Do you even want to know if you’ve crossed off one of the requirements?”

Brin paused. He set down his drink. “You’re full of crap.”

The Scarred One laughed. “I had you going! Admit it, I had you going there! Well, don’t worry. Whatever it was you ate, it wasn’t people meat. Or maybe you just threw it up in time..?”

Brin sighed.

“Alright, alright. Well, like I said, I don’t have much. I could tell you about [Witch Hunter], I guess.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yup! You get [Inflexible Mind] for mental resistance. [Reject the Wyrd] to counter their Skills. [Face Justice] to stop retreat. The Skills you earn after that are a good assortment of combat and anti-magic. Two Strength, one Dexterity, two Mental Control, and one free point per level.” He pulled a chunk of sheetrock off the wall and tossed it in the air, as if he were bored of the entire conversation.

“Why are you talking about it like it’s a throw-away? That’s a really good Class. And it’s exactly what I need right now.”

“It’s what you need right now. It’s not what you really want or who you are. You’re not a [Witch Hunter], you’re a man who just happens to be hunting [Witches].”

“I’m a man who wants to survive the next couple weeks,” said Brin. “I’ll do all sorts of things to survive. Even you.”

“Whoa!” said the Scarred One, holding his hands up defensively.

“Heyo!” said the Child.

Brin frowned. “You know what I meant.”

“Sure I did, Romeo. Ok, ok. If you really want [Witch Hunter], there’s a way. But you’re not going to do it, so why talk about it? See, [Glasser] to [Witch Hunter] isn’t a natural evolution like [Illusionist]. It’s a very abrupt side-grade at best. If you want it, you’ll need to reset your Class and levels again,” said the Scarred.

Brin nodded. “Ah. Yeah, I’m sick of being weak. I’m not going back to level one.”

“I thought you’d say that. In that case, let’s call in the other guy. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

The Scarred One shook his head. “Nah, you wouldn’t want to do that.”

“I’m not even sure I want the [Witch Hunter] Class at all. But I do want to know what my options are,” said Brin.

“Well, like I said, [Glasser] to [Witch Hunter] is an abrupt side-grade. The System won’t make you a [Witch Hunter] just because you want it for a couple days. You have to prove that you are a [Witch Hunter].”

A light of excitement entered the Scarred One’s eyes. He’d been planning this for the entire conversation. This was just another sales strategy. He sat up from the couch with a wicked smile.

“Nevermind,” said Brin.

“Just hear me out! You want to be a [Witch Hunter], you have to hunt [Witches]. This isn’t a Class for saying ‘some [Witches] are ok, but others are bad.’ They’re all bad, Brin. They all made the choice to take a wicked power, knowing full well what it could do to them. What it could turn them into. Bianca wasn’t always a psycho, but she drew a little too much, drank a little too deep, and she snapped. Who’s to say that couldn’t happen to Balbi or Clementine?”

“Or Bruna or Ademir? I’m not going to kill my best friend's mom,” said Brin.

“Because she’s got it going on?” the Scarred One winked.

Brin rolled his eyes.

“You’d be doing him a favor. Kill her now when she’s still that cute, nice mom with the nice, cute family. Do it before she does what all [Witches] do. Before she uses them. Twists them, tortures them, and then burns them up, fuel for her own immortality.” He slowly crept forward as he talked like a lion stalking his prey. “You know the names of four [Witches]. That means you know the names of four unexploded nuclear bombs. Kill them, and you’ll be a [Witch Hunter]. You’ll have enough power to face the real threat. Awnadil.”

Brin stared at the scorched table for a long moment.

“I don’t like how persuasive you can be.”

“You don’t have to decide right now!” said the Scarred One, backing away. “Like I said, it’s not even an option for now. Just something to think about.”

“No, I think I can decide now. This Class is great for hunting [Witches], but I haven’t heard many Skills that will help against anything else. I bet after level 20 or 30 I’ll have a hard time defeating monsters at my level; the only way to advance will be to keep seeking out [Witches]. Maybe I’ll find some huge, terrible evils to destroy once in a while, but most of the time I’ll be killing people who haven’t even done anything wrong yet. I think it’s telling that you’re the one offering this Class,” said Brin. “[Witch Hunter] is an evil Class.”

“There’s no such thing as an evil Class,” the Scarred One snapped. “But I’ll admit that this class introduces a certain amount of… intolerance into your personality.”

“Great.”

The Glasser entered next. He dressed in normal Hammon’s Bog clothing like he had when he first was here. He looked a little tired, with bags under his eyes and a certain heaviness to the way he carried himself.

He walked over to the reclining chair, more char than chair at this point, and hesitated before sitting down. “Do you mind if I..?”

“If you what?”

The Glasser patted the chair, and the burned appearance was instantly replaced with the way the seat had been in his apartment back on earth; completely restored. Well, mostly. The blue cloth was a little bit threadbare. He’d bought it second hand.

“Ah, what a day,” said the Glasser, sinking down.

“A bit of an understatement,” said Brin. “But wait, you can just change this place however you want?”

“You’ve had a particularly difficult day, but it’s not like this was the worst day of your life,” said the Glasser. “Your time in Travin’s Bog was much darker, for all that it came and went with little fanfare from the System.”

“So are we still waiting on the other guy, or were you planning on making a pitch for me to keep [Glasser]?” asked Brin.

The Scarred One snorted in contempt, but the Glasser just sighed. “I’m half-tempted to. Face it, you love being a [Glasser].”

“It’s a lot more interesting than I thought it would be,” admitted Brin. “And with [Memories of Glass], I’ll be able to do amazing things someday.”

“You will. So why are you so dead set on being an [Illusionist], I wonder?”

“Are we going to wait for him, by the way?” asked Brin.

The Glasser shrugged. “I don’t see why we would. Answer the question.”

“Because… because I can still be a [Glasser]. Those first few levels aren’t going to go away, and I’ve got the important Skills. Everything else I can learn from practice, and experimentation. It’s possible that I’ll be an even better [Glasser] once I have [Illusionist] by way of sheer magical power. Who knows what I would be capable of if I didn’t have to stop practicing after twenty minutes every day because my mana ran out. Now stop deflecting for a minute and tell me: Where is the Illusionist?”

The Glasser nodded wisely, and the Scarred One clapped his hands. “That’s the right question. Not when. Where.”

“Ok. So where is he?”

The Scarred One and the Glasser made eye contact, smiling at an inside joke. They brought their hands up, as if they were going to play rock-paper-scissors, but when they brought the fists down, both of them were pointing.

They were both pointing directly at Brin.

“What?”

“Come on,” the Scarred One laughed. “There was never any doubt about what you were going to pick. You’re the Illusionist here. You know everything there is to know about illusions, more than a System avatar would be allowed to say. You’re the advocate for the [Illusionist] Class. It’s you. It’s who you are.”

“Then what are we doing here?” asked Brin.

The Glasser answered. “We thought you’d want to hear our pitches. Are you sure you won’t consider staying with–”

“Quit screwing around and tell him why he’s here,” said the Scarred One, poking the Glasser in the shoulder.

The Glasser waved him away. “Listen, Brin. Your achievements earned you the right to a third option. We can offer you a hybrid Glasser/Illusionist Class. It’s called Glassbound Illusionist. It’s still a Rare Class, just like Illusionist, so it’s not necessarily better. Let’s be clear about that.”

“Clear as glass,” said Brin, but he couldn’t stop himself from getting excited. His heart thumped in rising anticipation. “I want it.”

“Not so fast. First you need to know… actually, you know what? Let’s do this the old-fashioned way. Here’s a blue box. First, here’s regular [Illusionist].”

Illusionist (Rare) Every level +2 Magic, +2 Mental Control, +1 Will, +1 free attribute Every 5 levels 1 Illusionist Skill Primary Skills: Summon Light. Summon illusory light. Summon Sound. Summon illusory sound.

“And now here’s–”

“Wait!” The Scarred One jumped up and put a finger to the Glasser’s lips. “Show him [Smokebound Illusionist], first. Never mind, I’ll do it. Ok, so you’ve never killed anyone with smoke or worked with it at all, so I can’t integrate this class with any Achievements. Maybe if you had burned your zombie dad… Anyway, this is a Class that anyone who earned [Illusionist] could pick up. A bog standard [Illusionist] variant.”

“No pun intended,” the Glasser said drily.

“I always intend my puns!” said the Scarred One. “Here’s [Smokebound Illusionist].”

Smokebound Illusionist (Rare) Every level +2 Magic, +2 Mental Control, +1 Will, +1 free attribute Every 5 levels 1 Illusionist Skill Every 10 levels 1 Smoker Skill Primary Skills: Call Light through Smoke. Summon illusory light through smoke. Call Sound through Smoke. Summon illusory sound through smoke. Titles: Smokebound -50% experience from all sources.

Brin frowned. “That’s… interesting, I guess. So it alternates between [Illusionist] and [Smoker] Skills? I don’t think I need any [Smoker] Skills.”

“No,” said the Scarred One. “Every ten levels you’ll get an [Illusionist] Skills and a [Smoker] Skill.”

Brin could already see where they were going with this, but decided to play along. “The fact that I’d only be able to summon through smoke would be a horrendous drawback. What would I do, carry a pipe with me everywhere? If someone took it away I’d be powerless. Also, the 50% experience penalty is annoying, even if my [Otherworlder] and [Warbound] achievements more than make up for it.”

“In return for that, you’ll get 50% more Skills,” said the Scarred One. “It’s a good deal. The real power from the System comes from Skills, not levels.”

“Still, it’s heavily reliant on my ability to make smoke. Why would I even get offered this Class?”

“It’s a standard variant that any [Illusionist] could take. It trades some limitations for extra power,” said the Scarred One.

“Alright. You’ve had your fun. Show me the Glasser version,” said Brin.

“Coming right up,” said the Glasser.

Glassbound Illusionist (Rare) Every level +3 Strength, +2 Magic, +2 Mental Control, +1 free attribute Every 5 levels 1 Illusionist Skill Every 10 levels 1 Glasser Skill Primary Skills: Call Light through Glass Summon illusory light through glass. Call Sound through Glass Summon illusory sound through glass. Titles: Glassbound

Like a shattered mirror, you are strong and sharp yet oddly fragile.

Feel the presence and relative location of glass. Drastically increased mana efficiency when working with glass. -50% experience from all sources.

Brin smiled. Now that looked much better. “Why does it give me so much Strength?”

The Scarred One answered, “Notice how you got two more attributes than a regular [Illusionist]? The reason we were to get that was because we could merge [Glassbound] with your Achievements, especially [Warbound]. It gives this Class a more warlike flavor than you’d expect. I wouldn’t be surprised if [Glasser]’s fighting Skills came up earlier than normal.”

Brin nodded. “About [Call Light through Glass]. Does this mean I’ll never be able to use those invisible eyes for long-distance spying? A big part of the reason I wanted [Illusionist] so bad was the idea that I’d be able to use it to call for help.”

“There’s a Skill you’ll have to pick up in the future. It’s called [Persistent Casting]; it’ll let you keep your illusions in place even after they’re out of your line of sight. It’s the same for regular [Illusionist]. Even though the Skill says [Call Light], it’s functionally no different than [Summon Light] except for needing to have glass in the area where the illusion is originally summoned,” said the Glasser.

“Even Hogg can only cast illusions nearby. He has to summon something near himself and then fly it away to do his long distance spying. You’ll be able to do that, too, eventually.”

Brin thought of something. “Is there any way that since I’m calling light instead of summoning it–”

The Glasser was firm. “You’ll still be vulnerable to the Eveladis. Sorry.”

Brin shrugged. “Does the focus have to be something specific?”

“Any kind of glass will do,” said the Glasser.

“Even glass I summon?”

“I don’t see why not.”

That was nice. As long as he had mana, he’d be able to use all his Skills. “Why don’t I see a [Shape Light and Sound] Skill? For glass, I need one Skill to summon it and another to change its shape.”

“Light and sound aren’t solid like glass. They’re both waves… sort of. You know what I mean. The light doesn’t stick around, it bounces off your eyes and then out into the universe. That’s why it needs to be continuously summoned. Any illusion you create will be a constant draw on your mana.”

“Last question. About the Title. When it says ‘while working with glass’, how broad is that?”

“Very broad,” smiled the Glasser. “It’ll work for [Call Light through Glass].”

Brin sat for a moment, drumming his hands on the table. His initial reaction had been mixed, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. If he wanted to be a pure [Illusionist], this might not be a perfect Class. But he was too greedy for that. From the first time he met these guys he knew he wanted all three. Glasser, Illusionist, and a little pinch of Scarred One.

“How do I select the [Glassbound Illusionist] Class?” asked Brin.

“You already have,” said the Glasser. “You may want to finish the drinks in the fridge before you go. Next time you come here, this place might not be… this place anymore.”

Brin did, drinking the rest of his sodas one by one. They weren’t the same anymore. They were too sweet for him now. He didn’t hate them, but by the time he drank the last one, he found that he would be fine if he never drank one again.

Still, he sipped them slowly, savoring them, and remembering his old life. When he left his soul space, he didn’t enter the waking world, but drifted straight off into sleep.