Untapped ~ Chapter Thirteen!

Joe padded along the stone streets of Ardania, the soft soles of his shoes making no noise as he pushed through the still-leery crowd. After leaving the palace, nothing was going to stop him from moving directly toward the merchant district, no matter how many sidelong glances and aghast stares he received. Thankfully, as a silver lining, he was getting used to his forcibly capped stats and beginning to compartmentalize the discomfort that came from the needles being pressed into his skin as if he had an overly eager acupuncture specialist strolling alongside him.

Actually, it was a little like hanging out with Jaxon, if he thought about it.

Still, despite the physical and mental discomfort—and the range of emotions he saw in the expressions around him—Joe only had a wide grin on his lips as he approached the Odds and Ends shop tucked away in a corner of the merchant district. He could see his mother through the window, animatedly chatting with a customer as she added item after item to the pile on the counter, much to the buyer’s dismay. For a few moments, he simply stood at the window, the goofy grin on his face reflected back at him as he waited for her to notice him.

Eventually, the customer saw him there and stared, causing Brenda to cast a curious glance over her shoulder, only to do a double take as she saw him standing there. Then she was sprinting through the shop, throwing the door open with a clatter and a clang as the bell swung wildly over the frame. “Joey!”

An instant later, she slammed into Joe with a full-force hug that would’ve sent him flying the last time they’d seen each other. But now, he had to move with the momentum just to make sure she didn't take damage as though face-planting into a boulder. 

“Oof! You've gotten stronger! Good to see you, Mom.”

“You're taller! Um, shinier?” 

“You've just shrunk, and your eyes are worse,” Joe quipped right back at her. “If anything, I'm only more aerodynamic.”

“I can't believe you're finally back! I've missed you so much! Do you even realize how long it's been? Months at a time between calls! This is why I should have had a daughter instead.”

“A little over a year now, but it's not like you came to visit me, either.” Joe got a smack to his chest for that joke, as both of them understood exactly how difficult moving through the higher worlds would’ve been for her. The Ritualist was able to punch above his weight class on a regular basis, and that had served him well as a forerunner for humanity's journey to new worlds, but Brenda had little in the way of combat potential. 

“A year?” She leaned away to look into his face and see if he was still joking with her. “Joe… it's been well over two years since you last walked on Midgard.”

“Two…?” Shaking his head in denial, Joe immediately went to refute her, only for his jaw to drop slightly as he remembered a small part of the message he’d ignored when opening the Bifrost on Jotunheim. “Time across worlds wasn't synchronized… is that what it meant? Was time running faster here, maybe to give everyone else a chance to catch up? I thought it was going slower here and faster on the world of giants? I know we talked about that before, but I thought maybe it was just the messages having to travel huge distances or something.”

“No, you knew the truth, you just didn't want to accept it.” Seeing that Joe was about to try arguing with her, Brenda shook her head and spoke first. “I went and talked to Boris about this, and though he wasn’t too happy to see me, he did explain the problem was that you keep moving freely across worlds. Simply put, the physics of your travel have messed with time pretty seriously for you. Jotunheim is considered to be one of the largest worlds, even if it may not be the densest?”

Pausing for a moment, Brenda furrowed her brow, but she pushed on before she could be interrupted. “Imagine time flowing like river water downhill. The heavier the world is that you are on, well, it is like a stone in the middle of that river. As you get closer, the flow of water slows down to move around it, but the top of the boulder itself isn’t wet—that’s why you might suddenly be moving much faster. Your relative time would have snapped back to moving faster than even here. At least, according to Boris, passing through those barriers around worlds—the edge of the gravity wells—that's where you've been finding issues with losing months at a time.” 

Seeing Joe’s shock, Brenda relaxed and allowed all traces of concern to vanish from her face as she gave him one last squeeze then stepped back. “Enough of that! Come in, we have a lot to talk about. I'll close the shop for the day; I'm due some time off.”

Less than ten minutes later, they were sitting at an open-air cafe, being served tiny cups of coffee which both Joe and Mate looked at with disdain before he *thunked* his massive Ebonsteel mug on the table, and the elemental filled it without waiting to be asked, nodding at each other in mutual disdain.

“Still overdoing it on caffeine, I see,” Brenda pointed out in passing as she got settled, then leaned forward to grin at her son with light dancing in her eyes. “So… you remember Blas?”

“Captain of the city guard,” Joe agreed easily as he took a sip of his delectable fresh brew. “I'm guessing you kicked him to the curb a year ago. What happened to him that's got you so cheerful? Did he get run over by a wagon?” 

“I certainly hope not, as we’re engaged.”

Joe had never seen a rainbow formed from light pushing through coffee, but as he spit out a mouthful of his drink, he got to witness the decidedly rare event. “You what? When did this happen?” 

“Shortly after you were exiled, but I didn't want to make you worry about us, so I kept it to myself. Still, we didn't want to have the ceremony until you came back… and here you are!” Brenda beamed at him with such a bright smile that Joe couldn't find it in himself to plot against Blas. Much. 

“Now it all makes sense.” Joe settled back in his chair with a sigh, taking another sip of coffee as his mother looked on curiously. “I was just chatting with the king and queen, and they mentioned you’d been constantly petitioning them to allow me to come back or bring me back. They didn't really give me a clear explanation on that. Now I know the real reason was just so you could get hitched.”

Brenda snorted and reached over to flick him on the forehead. “Brat! That was only to get you back here sooner because I missed you. But yes, I wasn't about to get married without my son being there.”

“Well, if this is going to happen, I demand father-son time.” Joe put his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. “Blas and I need to have a bonding experience that involves flying projectiles being thrown at him as I ask about his intentions with you.”

“Now there's an interesting way of asking to play catch with someone,” a new voice intruded on the conversation as Blas himself marched across the open cafe, his metal-shod boots *clinking* against the floor. “I've received four hundred and thirty-six reports of a wanted criminal being on the loose in the city, and after I got the description, I figured I should probably be able to handle this one myself. Welcome back, Joe.”

The three of them stayed in the cafe for the next few hours, catching up, slowly eating a charcuterie board as the sun slowly dipped behind the walls of Ardania. Eventually, the conversation wound down, and Brenda pulled out a piece of parchment and quickly scribbled on it before handing it over. “It’s settled, then. Six weeks from now, you’re the best man at our wedding. Plenty of time to prepare, and no excuses for being late.”

Joe stayed the night in his mother's spare room, though he only needed roughly an hour or two of sleep every few days to stay in top form… normally. When he laid down, it was under protest, but the next time his eyes opened, the sun was shining through his window and reflecting brightly off his head. “Ugh… lowered stats, increased sleep and food requirements. Abyss, I thought I was past this.”

Active effects: Rested. After laying in a bed for six hours, no matter how poor quality, you were able to get some much-needed beauty sleep. +5% Experience gain for four hours.

“You're not beyond the bounds of humanity yet, young man.” His mother's voice floated through the open door. “Now, get out here and have breakfast, then let me know your plans for the day.”

Pausing at that thought, Joe frowned slightly as he wondered what he should be focusing on. His mind turned toward the future, his hand unconsciously grasping the Ritual Combat Manual he’d been studying before he fell asleep. “What’s next? Training, of course. There's titles to earn, land to claim and build on. Enemies and honor duels to prepare for. But…”

He heaved himself out of bed, joining his mother as he thought about something that had been eating at him for apparently years now. When Brenda asked him what he was going to do, he responded with a firm voice.

“I need to go to the library and talk with Boris. Hopefully, I can clear the air with him, assuming he hasn't carved my name into his ‘no admittance’ board. I left things with him pretty bad; I never got a chance to explain what happened. He was a good friend, and I burned him. Err… he might have preferred me actually lighting him on fire, and as a librarian, he hates open flames.”

After a nice brunch with his mother, Joe made his way out of the merchant district and wound through the city until he finally stood outside the library. 

Taking in a deep breath through his nose, he allowed the familiar scent of leather-bound books and dusty tomes to fill his nostrils, even as his eyes roved over the stone facade and began picking out small changes. The wooden doors were the same, worn from decades—perhaps centuries—of use, but the old brass name plate that had been green with age had been replaced. Instead of the small plaque which had read ‘Head Librarian: Boris, seven-star Scholar’, there was a shiny, utilitarian sign.

Head Librarian: Lindon of the Tri-fold Path, Grandmaster-Endorsed 4 star Scholar. 

“They ousted Boris? Abyss, I'm going to have even more to make up for than I thought.” Pushing open the door, he stepped inside, certain that the new librarian would at least know where Boris had gotten off to. “Hello? My name is Joe, and I'm looking for the previous librarian, Boris. Can anyone help me with that?”

The quiet atmosphere remained perfectly still, though the gentle ambience he’d come to associate with libraries seemed… off. Instead of a place which felt comfortable to sit and read, whiling the day away with endless research, it now felt oddly… clinical. As if he had stepped into a laboratory wearing the guise of a library to maintain its modesty. Even so, he ventured farther inside, looking for any signs of life. “Anyone here? Boris used to sit right next to the door, so I'm not sure where I'm supposed to look for the librarian.”

He felt a shift in the air, as if a buildup of lightning on the horizon were causing the hair on his arms to stand on end. His robe flapped, and a few books fell off shelves as he reached for the door to try and pull it shut. Only as he gripped the handle did Joe realize the wind was rushing outward. That was the Ritualist's only warning before a shape materialized in the middle of the stacks, darting toward him and slamming a golden-glowing fist into his face.

A sharp *boom* echoed in the library, following Joe outside as he went flying, hit the ground, and bounced twice before rolling to his feet and managing to bleed off the rest of the momentum. “What was that? I knew I shouldn't have unequipped my Immovable Object title!”

Joe felt the world tilt again as a man appeared in front of him—out of a burst of shredded papers that filled the air like confetti—and landed a glowing fist on his nose. He flew tush over teakettle, only coming to a stop as he fully crossed the road and impacted the wall of the building on the other side. 

Exquisite Shell: 1,320/11,919

“Celestial feces, man! What’re you doing?” Joe waved at the thick cloud of dust in front of him, clearing the air just in time to see a tall man wearing an ornate set of navy and emerald robes stalking toward him, a pair of golden gauntlets covering his raised fists as he approached. “You just attack me outta nowhere? I don’t want to name drop here, but I have a pretty close relationship with the captain of the city guard.”

There was no response as the bored-looking man stared at Joe through a pair of thick-framed square glasses. His close-cropped hair fluttered slightly as he dashed forward, hammering his fist into Joe’s chest and watching with clinical detachment as the Ritualist folded over.

Would you like to activate Haunting Shadows? This is a courtesy request, as the skill is a combat spell in the Master ranks. Yes / No.

“No.” Joe spat out as his Exquisite Shell burst into shimmering motes, giving him just enough time to slip out and away from the follow-up attack. “I've got this.” 

Jumping into the middle of the street, Joe lifted his hand and allowed his inscription tool to appear pinched between his index finger and thumb. Swirling the intricate implement in the air, he allowed light gray aspects to form into a simple Novice circle, flicking it with a splash of mana to activate the somatically-created ritual diagram.

The simple design hovered in midair, bursting into flame as it rapidly consumed itself from the bottom up. At the same time, the librarian’s boots began to smolder, bursting into blue flames as the man rushed toward Joe.

A cheerful *ding* sounded in Joe's mind as a system notification appeared, though it remained tucked away, since he was in the middle of combat. 

“Hot-footing it over here, are we?” The Ritualist slipped away from the slightly sloppy strike. “I can make Sympathetic Combustion rituals all day long, pal. Might not be a lot of damage at once, but it just keeps burning. Are you going to talk this out like adults, or am I going to start your pants on fire?”

“I am Lindon,” the librarian replied with an even, if slightly accented tone. “Battle Scholar of the Tri-fold Path. Current steward of this repository of knowledge. The hammer which shall fall upon you and drive your impurities out of this world.” 

“Impurities? Trifold, huh? So you're a scholar, a fighter, and some kind of blacksmith, if you’re using crafting terms as a threat.” Quickly extrapolating from incomplete data, Joe began working out how he should best fight against this particular foe, paging through his Ritual Combat Manual as he leapt out of the way of a follow-up attack. “Not so easy to sucker punch someone if they know you're coming, huh?”

“I am going to take you with me now, Joe the Betrayer.” The calmly spoken threat sent shivers down Joe's spine as he landed on the page he’d been searching for. “Once I deliver you to our smiling sponsors, we'll learn what you know then make sure you are gone forever.”

Scowling at the incredibly creepy librarian, Joe swished his inscription tool through the air, rapidly generating another ritual made of sharp, angular lines which had multiple recursive circles within, activating it in the same motion. It flared with silvery light, and the scholar’s gloves, belt buckle, and the frames of his glasses began to glow brightly as the sunlight pouring down on them focused intensely on each of the metal items he was wearing. “Ritual of the Solar flare!”

A *hiss* of pain was the only indication the Novice-rank ritual was having even the slightest effect on the Battle Scholar. In response, the warrior flicked a piece of paper into the air, where it exploded into confetti. Joe felt an immense sense of impending doom and dropped to the road as the librarian appeared next to him in a shower of paper, which mirrored the exploding talisman, barely ducking underneath the heavy strike directed at his head.

As he landed, Joe scrawled a ritual diagram on the stone road in a flash of motion, slapping the activation sequence and shoving himself backward at the same time. A heavy boot landed where his neck had been an instant beforehand, yet instead of striking the hard surface of the road, his foot sank in a few millimeters. The rock splashed upward as if it had been turned into water, coating the man's legs before re-hardening in a thin layer which slightly hindered his motion. 

Very slightly.

Flexing his legs, the librarian burst through the impediment, rushing at Joe in a tackle and managing to get one arm around him. They were nearly equal in strength and sturdiness, yet with the extra momentum and use of whatever grappling skill he had, the Battle Scholar managed to bring Joe to the ground. Then he shifted around and slapped Joe across the side of his face, raising a stinging welt as the Ritualist gasped at the sudden, sharp pain. 

Health: 1,918/1,999

“Oh, that was a very bad idea.” Joe spoke softly as he turned to stare directly at the Battle Scholar, who was silently raising a fist. Even without looking down, he began quickly drawing out a circle, then another… but he ran out of time. The fist raised above him glowed faintly for a moment, then slammed into his chest, cracking at least two ribs and forcing his body to spasm. 

Health: 1,010/ 1,999

Letting out a wet cough, Joe felt blood dribble from the corners of his mouth, even as he did everything he could to keep his prodigious focus on finishing the second circle. As Lindon drew back for another strike, Joe drew the last line and poured mana into the activation. Both of their attacks hit at the same time, bringing Joe down to the last dregs of his health but also sending the scholar tumbling away from him.

The Ritualist thanked his lucky stars that he’d been studying intently ever since he gained this Ritual Combat Manual, and that the Force Reflection Sheet was such a simplistic ritual design, especially for a Beginner-rank ritual. “Probably because it's single-directional and just a basic square that hangs in the air above the point of activation. Maybe I don't tell him how easy it is to counter.”

Pushing himself to his feet, Joe restored some of his health with a quick activation of Lay on Hands, barely bringing himself out of critical condition before Lindon was rushing at him once more. The Scholar hit the invisible plane of force and was thrown back with double the amount of kinetic energy of his sprint, sending him a handful of feet back before he managed to catch himself. He lifted his right index finger to his glasses, pressing on the bridge of his nose and causing the lenses to flash.

“Abyss,” Joe murmured just as the Battle Scholar stepped a few feet to the side and rushed him again, easily avoiding the stationary ritual effect. “Only get to use my traps once, huh? Aren't you a perceptive one.”

Another fist flew forward, and Joe jumped out of the way, only to take a sharp inhale as he was struck anyway. The Ritualist glanced down to see a trio of sharpened pens sticking out of his left arm. “If you make a ‘pen is mightier than the fist’ joke right now-”

“I do not joke.” Lindon made a sharp gesture, as if pulling on the air, and Joe found himself being yanked off balance. Once more, he felt a stinging pain on his face as the Battle Scholar slapped him across the side of the head.

Health: 501/1,999

A glance at his health told Joe that he needed combat to end immediately, or he was going to be heading back to respawn at the least. The only reason he wasn't in only double digits for health at that moment was his Neutrality Aura healing him for a hundred and twenty-one health per second. His moment of distraction nearly cost him, as the Scholar lunged forward once again, missing with his fist but managing to shift the motion into yet another ringing slap.

“Son of a gun!” Joe let out a hoarse holler as his cheek flared with purple streaks under the angry red welt. “You like slapping so much? Fine! Let's see how much you really enjoy it. Yes.” 

The last word was directed at the system, which had once again popped up with a question asking if he wanted to activate his Haunted Shadows retaliatory spell. In an instant, a shadowy version of himself appeared next to the Battle Scholar, rearing back and swinging with a nasty backhand, striking with enough force to ring the Scholar's bell and returning a little over a hundred damage, as well as one percent of his total health. 

It wasn't much, but it was enough to make a move. Joe launched himself off the ground and onto the top of a nearby building, gritting his teeth as a bubble of warp drew close to his skin. Immediately, he felt how the mana he was regenerating was pouring in slower, the ambient power trembling and thickening as the energies of Midgard grew unstable around his body. He shoved off the roof once more, reactivating Omnivault and just barely managing to escape the Battle Scholar, who was appearing out of shredded paper.

“Coward! Get back here and face your fate!” Lindon bellowed into the open air as Joe’s vision blurred further, though this time with speed, not due to watery eyes after having been slapped. 

“I didn't come here to fight, you weirdo!” The Ritualist called behind him as he flipped in midair, landing on another building and once again immediately launching away. 

“Yet a fight you’ve found!” Lindon shouted from ahead of him, causing Joe to curse under his breath as he seized his Ritual Orbs with his mind and blindly sent two of the meager three forward. A duo of *thumps* told him they had met their mark, staggering the librarian and giving him enough space to land and change directions.

Joe had a specific destination in mind, no matter how it must have looked to the librarian. At the speed both of them could move, the fight was moving lightning fast. But since he was focused on escaping, Joe had a far better chance of getting away than the Scholar did of dragging the battle out. Their little game of jumping mouse and teleporting, pouncing cat continued for a few long minutes, until the Ritualist dove off the building and into a courtyard, tucking and rolling to bleed off his momentum. 

An instant later, he felt one of the Scholar’s pens stab into the back of his thigh, dragging him backward and forcing him to tumble to the ground. Then the Scholar was next to him, lashing out with his left hand and grabbing Joe around the throat.

“It’s over, betrayer.” 

“Might want to look around, random person who attacked me for no sane reason.” Joe managed to rasp out, giving the Scholar pause. All around the courtyard, the soft sound of metal on leather sounded out as weapons were drawn. “Like I said, I'm in good with the city guard.”

“Unhand him at once, citizen!” As the first shout crossed the distance, Lindon shot Joe a glare filled with absolute vitriol. He dropped his hand, then brought it to the other in a sharp clap… vanishing in a cloud of paper and bloodlust.