Chương 157: 71. It Seems Benevolent

Whatever Al told Evie, she's not sharing it with the rest of us. Just like when Vi was off having her weird dream, the rest of us were just stuck while our body stood paralyzed for a few minutes. Then Evelyn returned and practically hurled me back to the front.

"Is that what it was like when I had my out-of-body experience?" Violet asks.

"Pretty much, yeah," I confirm.

"I don't like it. And I really don't like that he can just do that to us," she grumbles.

"What if we'd been attacked?" The Alchemist shrugs and starts nosing around in our stuff, answering absently as I interpose myself between him and our notes.

"When you were well and truly lost, that may have been a risk," he muses, smiling apologetically and stepping back.

"But I suspect that if you were in actual danger, one of you would regain control of your body. If I've satisfied your curiosity for now, I do have some questions of my own." I sigh and kneel down at our little coffee table, gathering up the scattered papers and ignoring the way Violet winces as our personal notes get mixed together.

"I don't know what you could possibly need to know from us, but go ahead, I guess." With the table cleared and the papers neatly stacked, I gesture across from us and the Alchemist takes my invitation to sit.

"Well, I admit that I envy the knowledge you carry from your world," he says.

"You have, by nature, the very things I've spent much of my life trying to attain—though I know first hand how great the leap from possibility to realization is. That's not what I'm most interested in asking about, however." He calmly removes a small stack of papers from his satchel and adds it to our own—Vi's heat exchanger notes. I guess he grabbed them before we left the cafe.

"Okay, then I really don't know what you want from us," I reply, resting my elbow on the table and propping my chin up in my palm.

"Mana candles?"

"No, no," he chuckles.

"Though you shouldn't let the Goa family rob you of those. They're what I based my mana stones on. It's rare for dungeons to produce such energetic artifacts, let alone so many. They're exceptionally valuable to those who know how to use them."

"Like you?" I suggest. Al gives me a knowing smirk, his eyes flicking momentarily to the pocket where we keep our own emergency candle.

"Or you," he replies.

"A tier one Survivor wouldn't have any hope against a sixth tier Inquisitor, but a fledgling chaos mage with access to more concentrated energy than she knows what to do with? Oh yes, I can very well imagine how you might have overcome them." I shudder.

"I'd rather not imagine it any more tonight, if you don't mind."

"Of course, my apologies," he says.

"Let me get to the point—when we first met, I observed upon you a rather extensive module that had not fully integrated into your soul, leaving it quite exposed and vulnerable."

"That doesn't sound good," I observe.

"Not at all—I can only imagine how painful it must have been to access your interface like that, especially the parts connected to that module." Hmm, I'm really trying not to ask what the heck he's talking about, and I think I'm picking up what he's putting down, but I probably do need him to clarify this.

"Question—what's a module?" I ask, lazily raising my free hand as if we're in a classroom.

"It's exactly what it sounds like," he replies.

"An extension of your interface—an addition that provides extra functionality beyond what is normal. Usually they are quite simple, like the curse on your pet over there." He nods his head in Nipper's direction.

"Yours is... not simple. It is, in fact, so impossibly complex that I find myself somewhat intimidated. When I met Violet, I trimmed away the excess parts that were causing you trouble."

"Thanks? I think. Was it a good idea to mess around with something you don't understand?" Al chuckles nervously.

"I didn't think much of it at the time. An oddity worth studying, should we meet again, but I saw it as a routine curse removal."

"Okay, sure." I shrug. It's been a long day full of big revelations, and I'm feeling a bit mentally fried. Also, I think whatever's going on with Evie is bleeding through a bit and affecting my mood. I really need to make sure she's okay after this.

"Was there a question I missed in there somewhere?" I ask.

"Or is this all just preamble?"

"I'm getting to it, yes," he sighs.

"Since then, not only have those 'extra' portions returned, they've grown significantly. They're no longer 'exposed' in the same way, which leads me to think that whoever or whatever created it really did deliberately contrive our first meeting." He eyes the puzzle cube, as if contemplating whether to start fiddling with it again, then decides against it.

"What I'd like to know is what that module is, and how it was created," he finally says.

"Because whoever did it, you've met them again some time in the last month." Aha! Of course. I think I'm finally starting to get a measure of the mysterious Alchemist. The reclusive man who joined and left a cult, designed a ritual spell for summoning demons, survived infinity, then came back to change the world with inventions stolen from eternity. This is a man driven first and foremost by one, single thing—curiosity. He's a bit like Maggie, or Vi.

They share that trait, as much as they'd both resent the comparison. Vi sees a puzzle and wants to solve it, while Maggie just wants to be the smartest person in the room. Both of them hate not having an answer. I nod in understanding.

"Okay, I see, no problem. I'll tell you everything we know about that." Al watches as I shuffle through our stack of notes, bringing one sheet to the front and nodding. I look up to meet his odd, dark eyes and adjust my glasses.

"I have no idea." His face falls, and it takes all of my self control not to burst into a fit of giggles.

"Nothing? Not so much as a hint?" he presses. I spread my hands helplessly.

"There was some weird stuff that happened when we were first integrated, but that was so long ago now and even in the moment it was hard to really think about it. There was... I dunno, some kind of presence, I guess? That's probably what's responsible for it, but that's all I've got."

"And you've never encountered that 'presence' again?" he asks.

"Never. In fact, once I woke up, there was no trace of any of its words left in my interface. They'd all changed to match the stuff that the [World Engine] normally provides." He purses his lips and sighs through his nose.

"That's very concerning. There are precious few beings in the world capable of that level of magic. It's beyond me, and unless I've missed something significant it's also beyond any of the entities I know of." Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

"Whatever it is, it seems benevolent," I comment.

"To you, for now." He runs a hand through his hair and grimaces.

"If it didn't involve you so directly I would say you needn't concern yourself. It is a problem on a level that makes thrones and empires look like petty games by comparison. A world that even I am a mere novice in compared to the true powers of this reality." That's not very reassuring. I already feel like we're in way over our heads with this Draga thing and all the noble politics.

"Actually, we did encounter her again," Evie interjects quietly.

"Twice."

"We did?!" I ask incredulously.

"You had mortal wounds after escaping the Stalker Demon," she mutters.

"It was before I had your class, so we were... more separate than we are now. I prayed to the Guardian to save me, and she responded instead." That actually sounds vaguely familiar.

"Wait, I think I had a dream about that—or I thought it was a dream," I muse.

"I forgot, though."

"You usually do," Evie sighs.

"River says it's her way of keeping you safe from the torments of your own mind. But not everything she keeps is a product of your imaginations—she's not very good at telling the difference." Dang it, we really need a better way of communicating with Reverie than Evelyn's second-hand reports.

"As fascinating as the inner machinations of your mind are," Al interrupts, "I'd like to hear more about this encounter."

"There isn't much to say," Evie replies.

"She spoke like the [World Engine] itself, though I had no connection to it at the time. I think she attempted to invoke one of my old skills through Maev, but couldn't locate it. The [Revitalization] skill she used instead is one that Maev didn't have yet either, though."

"Wait, are you sure?" I ask.

"That's right when we upgraded our classes, and it's one of Vi's skills."

"I'm certain. I have a very good memory, and Violet only took that class after she healed us."

"Every single word of this is making me more concerned," Al groans.

"Something capable of acting on the level of an extremely powerful demon or angel, directly interfering with a guardian, and accessing another entity's interface? I don't know anything that can do that, and I don't like any of my immediate theories." He shakes his head and takes a shaky breath. It's just a moment, but he looks absolutely terrified before regaining his composure and adopting his usual aloof expression.

"I won't burden you with such concerns right now. It doesn't seem to mean you any harm—quite the opposite, in fact—and that's enough," he says.

"And the last encounter?"

"I don't know," Evie says.

"That one was River, and she just said something broken was fixed, and a terrible fate was averted."

"You never thought to tell us about that?" I ask, starting to get annoyed.

"How many other important conversations with Revi have you been keeping secret?"

"It wasn't intentional," Evie sighs.

"Reverie isn't always easy to understand, and most of what she talks about is either imaginary or metaphorical. I usually learn more from exploring our dreams than actually speaking to her." The Alchemist's eyes light up.

"Oh! A [Dreamer]? That's an excellent class! Just be careful. You don't have much to worry about at your level, but dreams are more real than you might think."

"I'll bear that in mind, thank you."

"Well, I'd offer to let you speak to Reverie, but I don't know how," I grumble.

"Our class is supposed to let us communicate, but she's a bit of an exception."

"That's quite alright," Al says, holding up a hand.

"It sounds like that is when she undid my own meddling, though I'm not sure what 'terrible fate' might refer to. Are you certain it's a woman?"

"No, but it feels right," Evelyn says. I nod.

"The words were just words, but it felt like they had a soft, motherly voice. No actual sound, but I'll never forget the feeling."

"Interesting," he mutters.

"That, at least, is a fairly trivial thing to accomplish. I maintain a similar module myself." Oh right. I'd almost forgotten about that. I've gotten so used to it after hanging around with him all day that I stopped noticing.

"Is that the one that makes everyone see you as a man?" I ask casually. He stiffens slightly, but quickly relaxes as he replies.

"Not quite. It just reinforces who I am. Pulls a tiny bit of my spiritual presence into reality. Rest assured that I cannot alter anybody's perception—at least not without much greater effort than it's worth." I chew on that for a moment, contemplating whether or not I should even continue asking about this. It's not something that I can easily bring up with Talla or Rara, and Evie—well, she's more worldly than I thought, but I don't think I could take her at face value.

If I'm right, then Al is the best person to ask, and I'm pretty sure I'm right.

"Were you born a man?" I try to sound as natural as possible as I ask, like I'm inquiring about the weather. He still gives me a sharp glare when he replies.

"I believe so, yes," he answers, and for a second I think I might have made a mistake, but after a moment he continues.

"Though I doubt most people would agree. You know, in two hundred years, you're the first person to guess that on their own. How?" I scratch the back of my head, now feeling a bit awkward and guilty for outing him like that, even if we're in private.

"A lot of little things," I hedge.

"The aura, not telling people your name, and you said you weren't very attached to your old body. Although, if you constructed a new body for yourself, I'm surprised it's still so effeminate."

"This is who I am," he replies defensively, crossing his arms.

"Why should I change myself to fit a woman's view of what a man should be?" I hold up my hands in a placating gesture.

"You shouldn't! Not unless you want to. But I've known people like you—I think—and they often do. I was just surprised. I'm not going to tell anybody, I promise. Just—I was curious about how Fa'aun culture treats [transgender] people." He frowns, then looks away and sighs.

"The fact that I've kept it secret for two hundred years isn't answer enough?"

"No, I, uh—I suppose it is, sorry." I grimace.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Al waves me off, smiling.

"I'll take honest questions over prejudice, and it's a bit gratifying to have someone simply accept who I am. But I believe we're in for a long day tomorrow, so if there's nothing else..." He makes as if to stand up, and I'm ready to bid him farewell when we are interrupted.

"Teach me magic!" Maggie blurts out suddenly.

"You're the only other chaos mage we've met. Everyone else says I'm just going to blow us up or go insane, but you're proof that's not true! Just tell me how to do it right!" The Alchemist stops, frowning.

"You probably will blow yourself up or go insane—with or without my guidance. I'm afraid I have neither the time nor inclination to take an apprentice."

"Mags, I thought we decided not to do that anymore..." I mutter hesitantly.

"No, you decided that," she retorts.

"I never agreed to shit! Come on, please. I'll figure it out on my own if I have to, but there's got to be some kind of hint or advice you can give me, at least!"

"Ugh, you are an unpleasant reminder of my own youth." Al grimaces.

"My best advice would be to stop now. Some things are forbidden for a reason. Since you'll ignore that advice, instead I'll tell you not to scorn the [World Engine]. A low level chaos mage is a dead chaos mage."

"I know I need attributes. That's not—""Skills too," he interrupts.

"You think I've made it this far without arming myself against the raw cosmic forces I tap into? You are a child gripping the blade of a dagger, asking me how to tighten your grip. Don't. Not until you learn how to hold it properly." He stands and strides past me so quickly that I barely have time to scramble to my feet.

"Sorry about Maggie," I grumble.

"She can be a bit passionate sometimes."

"I'm not offended," he assures me.

"Just worried. I've seen where that passion can lead, and I'm not the example you think I am. There's one other thing I can do for you..." The Alchemist reaches forward and gently taps my forehead. I blink and rub the spot where he touched, furrowing my brows.

"Uh... what was that?"

"A curse," he replies.

"Detecting and removing it should be worth some levels."

"I don't feel any different," I hedge.

"Naturally," he replies with a somewhat sinister grin.

"Good luck, girls. I'll see you tomorrow." I wave goodbye as he leaves, then shut the door behind him and slump down against it. Today has been exhausting.

"Nice going, Mags," I grumble sarcastically, still rubbing uselessly at my forehead.

"Strongest mage we've met and you manage to get us cursed."

"I know, right?!" she answers enthusiastically.

"This is awesome!"

"I'd almost forgotten why I hate you, Magdalena," Evie hisses.

"Thank you for the reminder."

"Any time, bitch! You're all welcome."