Chapter 190: I Died

A dark, suffocating abyss opened up inside my soul. The light had fallen. The sun had died in the heavens. Mēnē was crying bitter tears of despair, and somewhere in the forest, trees were laughing at my agony. Kasia had ripped out my heart and buried it in sawdust.

Wood! She chose wood over magic?! She looked at the infinite possibilities of witchcraft, turned up her nose, and said, “No thanks!” I fell to the ground, crushed under the overwhelming weight of this tragedy. My heart (that had already been ripped out and buried in sawdust) shattered into a thousand useless pieces.

In that moment, I ceased to exist. Except I didn’t. But I wished it. The fact that I didn’t was the cruelest joke of all. The final twist of the knife buried deep inside my back. I looked up at the ceiling and prayed for a lightning bolt to strike me down and end my misery, but nothing came. She had gazed upon a life of witchy glory and had tossed it all aside for chairs and doorframes.

I clawed at the skies, or I would have if we weren’t inside, which we were. So I just clawed in the general direction of the sky, while fully aware that there was a ceiling above me. That didn’t matter. All that mattered was my infinite despair, but for some reason, while I wept, everyone was laughing.

Everyone was laughing?

I froze mid-claw, one hand suspended toward the ceiling, as I heard someone call my name in the distance. Or I thought I did—it was hard to make out through my existential crisis and all the laughing.

Kuba was holding his stomach, tears of amusement streaming down his face. Bogumir and Vitek were both slapping their knees. Even Vasil had a damning, but unmistakable smirk tugging at the corners of his froggy lips.

Suddenly Kasia appeared in front of me and bent to meet my eyes. For some reason she was laughing as well.

“Gosh, you’re so dramatic,” she said.

Me? Dramatic? I’m the least dramatic person I know!

“And you’re so easy,” Bogumir added.

“I’m easy?” I asked. “She has destroyed her future!”

Kasia shook her head, still laughing. “I picked [Raptomaga]. I only said I picked [Carpenter] as a joke, since you always do that sort of thing as well. I figured I’d let you experience what it feels like when someone else does it.”

Vasil chuckled. “And, Hecate? How does it feel? Did you find it humorous? Did it tickle your funny bone?”

I scrambled up from the floor. “What the hell is a funny bone?”

Vasil looked like he hadn’t expected me to ask that question and cocked his head, then shook it. “It means did you think it was funny?”

“What?”

“When something tickles your funny bone, it means that something is funny.”

I scrunched my nose. “I’ve literally never heard of that before. You’re making this up. There is no way I have a funny bone, and neither do you. I think. Maybe frogs have them, maybe because they don’t have ears, they were given a funny bone. But humans don’t have a funny bone. No way.”

“Actually, that—”

“And no way that you have a funny bone. Because you’re not funny. Like at all.”

Vasil sighed and just gave me a flat stare.

“Wait,” I said, turning my attention back to Kasia. “What did you just say?”

“Oh, Hecate.” She smiled warmly and put her hands on my shoulders. “Calm down. I took [Raptomaga].”

“You did? I mean, of course you did. I knew you were just… kidding. So funny… heh.” I scratched the back of my neck. “Is it hot in here?”

“It actually is kind of warm,” Bogumir said, adjusting his collar. “Is that skrzat working overtime with the floor heating or is it all the people in here? My pits are like two waterfalls.”

“So you really picked [Raptomaga]?” I asked Kasia.

She laughed again. “Of course I did.”

“Whew.” I wiped my forehead, which totally wasn’t sweaty at all. “That’s good. That was a good choice. What kind of passive did you get?”

“[Spirit Needle]. Look.”

Kasia grabbed at the air and in her hand appeared an ethereal needle that glowed both white and blue. It did not appear solid. It looked like it was made of fire and water at the same time, constantly moving.

“Can you make more?”

Kasia focused and tried, but no more needles appeared. “I think it’s just the one. It does look like it can be upgraded, though, so maybe in the future I could make more?”

“How many upgrade slots do you have?” I asked, curious.

“Just one.”

“Ah. Figures. I guess that makes sense if it was just Mēnē who created the Class. Now the real question is: what can you do?”

“Nothing,” Bogumir said. “She doesn’t have any skills. You can’t do anything without skills. I think most classes don’t do much until around level ten, when their build starts to kind of come together.”

“For you maybe,” I scoffed. “My Class was ready to go at level one.”

Kasia shifted uncomfortably. “What should my first skill be?”

“Eh, my mother said [Omniglot], but I’m not sure how much use you would get out of it. For me it’s been invaluable, but I’m not Silesian. You already understand everyone here… except for Phisto, and I’m not sure if you want to know what he talks about. So you’re not really missing much. I’d probably pick something that would work with that needle of yours.”

Phisto glared at me. I knew he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Which was probably for the best because I was certain it would prove my point.

“Hecate is right,” Vasil said. “It would be prudent to first experiment to figure out what you can do right now. You already have the needle, it must do something. Has anything changed in your perception, perhaps? How do you use the needle?”

Kasia moved the needle around, then squinted and scanned the hall. “I don’t know.”

She made the needle appear and disappear a couple of times. “It doesn’t cost mana. Other than that I’m not sure it does anything yet.” She pricked her finger. “Ow. Seems similar to a regular needle, just more spirity.”

“Definitely cooler looking,” I said.

“What about its size?” Vasil asked. “Can you reshape it perhaps?”

Kasia held out the needle and it grew larger in her hand. “Hey! It works!” Then it grew smaller. “I guess I can sort of decide how big it gets. It has a limit, but this is pretty cool. I guess if I ever need to fix some clothing I can just use this thing.”

“Your Class description mentioned manipulating fate. It also mentioned threads of mana. Can you see or sense mana in some way?”

“I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “I don’t think so. I don’t see anything that I couldn’t see before. What does mana look like?”

Vasil gave her a scholarly smile. “Then that may be a good idea for a first skill. It is hard, if not impossible, to manipulate what you cannot see or feel. In your case, I believe some sort of mana sight ability will be most useful.”

“Hmm,” Kasia said. “There is [Manopsis]. That will allow me to see mana.”

“Go ahead, take it.”

“Alright.” She gave a nod, then almost immediately took two steps back and covered her eyes. “This is—wow.” She slowly opened her eyes, held her hand in front of her face and inspected it with extreme interest, turning it around so she could see it from all sides. “Wow. This is crazy. It’s everywhere. And the colors! Wow!”

“What does it look like?” I asked.

She looked up and slowly spun around, hands in the air. “It’s beautiful. It’s everywhere and it’s all connected. We’re all connected.” She seemed to trace an invisible line I couldn’t see. Clearly [Manopsis] was very different from [Mēnē’s Watchful Eye].

When she turned to me she smiled. “Hello.” She stepped closer and gently put her hand on my cheek. “I wish you could see this, Hecate. You look—you look… There is so much mana inside of you. Such goodness. And the way it flows out and touches everything around you. I knew you were different, special, but… to actually see it…”

Uh… I was touching people? That seemed inappropriate. I didn’t want people to think I was some kind of pervert or something. I didn’t think I touched anyone. I quickly put my hands behind my back.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to touch anyone. I didn’t know I was! It’s not on purpose, I swear!”

Kasia laughed and smiled warmly. She was still holding my cheek. “Not like that!” She slowly shook her head. “It’s a good thing, Hecate. It’s good. You are good.”

I put my hand on the one she had on my cheek. “I am?”

She looked into my eyes, but it felt like she was staring straight into my soul. “You are. You really are.”