Bog Standard Isekai

Four months passed. Rather than head straight back to the Order like Caradawg had wanted, Cid had opted to resume their regular patrol. Despite the drama of the previous few days, it didn't take long for the Lance to get back into their regular routine. Riding during the day, camping under the stars at night or occasionally staying in an inn.

It was all exactly as it had been before, but of course everything was different. The guys were finally getting along the way a group of comrades should, and though Cid or Brin were often called upon to settle some little dispute or argument, they never seemed to blossom into real, lasting resentment. And now that Brin was openly using his illusions among the Lance, they'd reached a level of teamwork and coordination that he bet most Lances only dreamed of.

In addition to being able to whisper directions straight into their ears, he was able to give them all Minimaps using only three directed threads for the entire Lance. One to run an Invisible Eye above them all, another to project the image to each of them, and then one more to listen for commands. Some of them found it annoying to have the map in their field of view at all times, and liked to be able to dismiss it or pull it up again.

He used another two directed threads just for Anwir, but those he only used when Anwir was hunting. With a combination of his own eyes and a camera that could zoom in on his target, Anwir was able to hit rabbits or the occasional deer from an astounding distance.

Three more threads watched Hedrek. One was conscious and using about 1/12th of Brin's time, with two directed threads. They were in charge of explaining and re-explaining how to do the little tasks that Hedrek had a hard time with.

At first, Brin had just put written instructions from the Codes in front of him, but Hedrek couldn't be bothered to read them. What ended up working the best was when Brin had just started highlighting things in yellow, sort of the same way Hogg had done for him all those years ago. He'd highlight the strap on Hedrek's armor, and then the loop where it was supposed to go next, step by step. Lately, Hedrek was getting himself ready as quickly and accurately as anyone else in the Lance, and he didn't have the embarrassment of needing visible instructions or help from anyone.

Even Govannon was less annoying lately, though Brin's worst fears came true and he'd ended up needing to be the one to befriend the guy. He was pretty normal when he wasn't feeling insecure, and he was always ready to geek out with Brin about optimizing System stuff, a topic which made most people uncomfortable.

He also seemed to actually be very touched that Brin hadn't actually been aiming to kill him during the Crucible, which Brin found both funny and extremely sad.

Brin spent most of his days zoned out and working with his new Skills. Riding across the countryside wasn't the most exciting work, but it was perfect for meditating on the word <Laser>. They'd found a [Gemsmith] who was able to fix the shape of Brin's remaining half of the Fire Jelly core, and to his delight, being smaller did nothing to affect its ability to focus and magnify laser power, only its storage capacity. And even without the core, his power increased day by day. He made a huge leap when he combined it with the word <Space>, one of the words that Lumina suggested he meditate on. Strangely, <Laser> seemed to resonate more strongly with the idea of connecting space, rather than traveling through it.

The months were somewhat slow when it came to System rewards, but they weren't completely fruitless.

Alert! Meditation has leveled up. 18 -> 22

Through training, you have increased the following attribute:

Strength +1

Dexterity +3

Vitality +1

Magic +5

Mental Control +2

Will +3

Advanced Knightly Training 45 -> 48

Meditation 18 -> 22

Shape Glass 44 -> 47

Call Light through Glass 56 -> 57

Call Sound through Glass 40 -> 42

There had also been one more advancement, but he couldn't claim it was due to his efforts. One day, while they'd been on a mountain trail a hundred miles from civilization, a notification had popped up.

Alert! Celebrated Creativity has upgraded.

You have authored and performed a song which has been sung by over ten thousand people.

+20% -> +30% to all attributes while creating, performing, or inventing.

He had to read the message three times before he noticed what had changed. One thousand turned to ten thousand. The legend of the kukubaru was still spreading. What was crazy to him was that that many people had sung his song. He could only guess how many people had heard it.

When he wasn't busy with Language, he was refining everyone's HUDs or working on his "Battle Programs". He still didn't have a way to copy and store illusions, so the best he could do was store memorized Language in his [Memories In Glass], but even with that limitation he was vastly expanding the tricks he'd be able to pull out at a moment's notice.

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While he always had a lot to do, the men were starting to get restless. After they left Dustrim, they never saw another goblin. They found tracks and abandoned camps that suggested that the goblins were everywhere, but the monsters never seemed to be in range of Brin's Invisible Eyes.

He didn't like it. It started to remind him of the undead in Frenaria. He knew they were out there, he knew they were a threat, and yet they never seemed to appear. What was Arcaena doing here?

It was especially bad for Marksi. In the beginning, the little dragonling would skip away every night to go hunt, but there wasn’t much out on Prinnash’s wide fields to challenge an ambitious little dragon. He quickly grew tired of chasing rabbits and mice, and started to become bored and lethargic. He spent his days sleeping on Brin’s lap in the saddle, and then slept all night at camp.

Once, Brin found an interesting fox beast and sent Marksi after it. The fox was high level, 28, but still the size of a regular fox. The resulting battle was ferocious as Marksi finally found a creature that could match his slippery speed. He’d returned that night with several long scratches across the scales of his back and stomach, but he’d been so proud he’d spent an entire week scampering around happy and energetic as ever. But eventually the boredom set in again and he started sleeping all the time. This was what Perris had tried to warn him about. Dragons were creatures for all occasions. If it was battle and adventure you wanted, they’d be right there with you. But if there was nothing going on, they were perfectly happy to sleep their lives away.

It wasn’t only the lack of monsters; it was the change of climate. In the forests in the Boglands, Marksi could always imagine that there was something interesting to find behind that next patch of trees, even when there wasn’t. In the fields of Prinnash, Marksi would always imagine that there was nothing out there to see, even when there was.

Things weren’t much better for the knights. Cid shut down any intense sparring or practicing Skills that might result in injury while they were patrolling, but the men were wearing him down. Without enemies to fight, their only way to advance their Class was to practice against each other. Without that, they were falling behind.

They'd returned to the Order only once in the four months’ time, and they'd stayed there for only two days. Cid had a closed-door meeting with Galan in a room Brin couldn't spy on, and then they'd left the next day.

At least that had been enough time for Brin to talk to Kartof about weapons. The [Weaponsmith] had been elated with Brin's Morphic Weapons and promised that he'd be able to find him the perfect weapon for that ability.

Fall came, though with the few trees out on the plains, there wasn't much falling to be done. It was noticeable mostly from the leaves on the short little bushes, though sometimes there would be miles-long fields of the bushes and seeing their leaves all colored red and yellow was a beautiful sight.

Then the leaves fell and rotted and Prinnash was an ugly grayish brown. Winter came. It was much colder than the Boglands, though nothing close to as cold as his home on Earth. It snowed only occasionally, and even then never covering more than an inch. Between his Vitality and his Titles, he barely noticed it except for how briefly pretty it was to see fields of white rather than brown.

###

Four months after they'd left Dustrim, Brin found himself cutting into Hedrek and Cid's watch. He was restless, and didn't need much sleep besides, so he stayed up and watched the city's lantern lights.

Canibri. It was bigger than he'd imagined it to be. The city was closer to the size of Oud’s Bog rather than the Hammon’s Bog-sized hamlet he’d been imagining.

He stayed a bit away from Cid and Hedrek. He tried not to listen in on conversations that he wasn't in earshot for. Now that they knew he could always be listening, he made it a habit to respect their privacy whenever possible. So he was surprised when Cid left the campfire and shuffled over next to him.

"You've hardly spoken a word all day and you've been staring at Canibri for an hour now. Are you that desperate for a day on the town? I wouldn't blame you, if so."

Brin had been quiet today? Thinking back, maybe he had been. There actually was something on his mind. And honestly? It was probably time to tell Cid about this. Cid had proven himself trustworthy, and he'd already completed the relationship quest for all the other guys in the Lance. The last person in line was Brin. He decided to just say it.

"That's Canibri. I have relatives here." There. That wasn’t so hard.

"You're not speaking of [Archmage] Lumina or the mysterious Hogg. I assumed your family died in the Boglands somewhere." Cid spoke with forced casualness; Brin hadn't exactly been forthcoming with his past. Or rather, Aberthol's past. Brin couldn't tell him everything, but he figured the Prime deserved another piece.

"The person who gave birth to me was a [Witch] of Arcaena named Aberfa Beynon, though I will never call her my mother. Her husband was a [Scout], captured and taken prisoner. He was Cadwy Baines, and then Cadwy Beynon after she took him."

Cid looked constipated. His lips were pressed tight together and his eyebrows were up and he was clearly trying to hold in a million questions in the hopes that Brin would keep talking.

"The result was Aberthol, but please, please don’t call me that. I’m Brin now. Aberthol Beynon… was a different person." Brin was finding this harder to talk about than he'd expected. Part of it was because he didn't want to directly lie to Cid, but most of it was because this brought up real, painful emotions. He wasn't Aberthol, but those months with Aberfa in his dreams had affected him.

When Cid saw that Brin wasn't going to continue, he took a shaky breath. "Sezorat's Maze, Brin. Every time you tell me something new about your life it makes me want to kill myself."

Brin laughed. "Anyways, Cadwy gave me a last request. He wanted me to tell his other children what happened to him. I guess I should do it. I don't owe Cadwy anything, not a single damn thing, but his children probably deserve to hear what happened to their father. One little conversation and then it can be over, I can finally close that chapter in my life."

"You should go! You have leave, as much time as you need," said Cid. "Ye gods, man, why haven't you asked before now?"

"I don't know, it's just, how do you even go about something like that? Hi, I'm Brin, I'm your dad's other family. Oh yeah, you probably thought he abandoned you, but actually he spent twelve years in misery and then died horribly. Sancta Solia, maybe it's better if I don't go."

“Why would they assume he abandoned them? They probably thought he was dead,” said Cid.

“That’s even worse. They’re better off thinking that rather than what actually happened. The more I think about this, the more I think that the only reason I’m doing this is for a System reward. Telling them may be a cruelty.”

Cid paused for a moment, standing beside Brin and watching the lights of the city.

"Get your horse. We're going now."

"What? It's the middle of the night."

"No, it's three hours past sundown. By the time we get to Canibri it will be midnight, and most people are up at that hour," said Cid.

That was actually true. He still hadn't completely adjusted to sleeping schedules in an era before lightbulbs, but most people went to bed at dusk, and got up for a couple hours at midnight before going back to sleep until dawn. Now that it was winter, those wakeful midnight hours were longer than normal.

"Awake or not, it's not a time for visitors."

"For this kind of visit," Cid answered, "it's the perfect time."