M36

Morgan walked through the central stair hall and into the library. Tiladia followed behind, her lights flaring brightly as her misty form swirled around them. Morgan walked over to one of the large study tables in the library and began to unload the items from the ring that he’d taken from the Yovashi female. He started with the Yovashi Uirgha silk bolts, the two he had left, and then he placed down the four heavy, intricate tomes. Next to those, he unloaded the 28 vials and bottles filled with varieties of liquids. Finally, he set the black crystal knife down on the wooden surface. As Tiladia started to flit around the table, her lights flashing inquisitively, he stepped over to a nearby table and unloaded all the books he’d taken from the shelves in the portal room of the Yovashi dwelling. He counted them as he dropped them on the table, coming up with 18 hefty tomes, 32 much smaller books, and the one massive book that had been on the lectern.

Tiladia continued her tinkling perusal of the items on the first table, and Morgan walked over to watch. After a few moments, she paused and said, “That silk is quite dense in Energy. I bet it’s very tough. It would be an ideal material to use in crafting robes or other garments.” She continued flitting about, and Morgan nodded, packing the silk back into his ring. “I’m sorry, Morgan, I don’t know this language that these books are written in. I can spend some time trying to puzzle it out, though. Especially while you are away, I find that time does strange things if I don’t have a task. I’ve told you that before, haven’t I? I can say for sure that these four books are all steeped in a dark and cold Energy. Perhaps there are skills or spells outlined within.”

“Hmm, yeah, that would be great if you could work on that. Can you, like, turn the pages?” Morgan gestured to her ethereal form.

“Oh, I don’t need to; I can just let my consciousness drift down through the pages.” She moved over to the knife and began to pulse more rapidly.

“Morgan, there’s an intelligent spirit in this knife. A powerful and hungry one. I think you need to be a lot stronger in will before you attempt to bond with it.”

“Wow, I was actually right in my caution!” Morgan chuckled and put the knife away in his ring.

“Oh, Morgan, I wouldn’t keep it in that dimensional container. Spirits hate that feeling. It will be even crabbier and harder to control when you take it out. You should store it here in the tower.”

“Oh shit. Really?” Morgan took the knife out of the ring. “While you’re looking at those potions, I’ll go put this in the study.” Tiladia flared in acknowledgment, and Morgan walked over to the study room with the big desk and the map table. He’d been meaning to ask Tiladia about that map but never got around to it. He walked around the desk and saw that it had a few drawers. He pulled them all open, wondering if he’d find some ancient treasure, but like most of the rest of the house, it was completely empty. Morgan dropped the knife into a drawer and then walked back to the library.

“Morgan, these four potions with the swirly yellow liquid are healing draughts. They aren’t terribly potent, but they’ll undoubtedly speed healing or help to overcome an infection. These three tiny vials with the clear serum in them are concentration potions. If you drink them while performing a difficult task, your chance of success will increase. These five little black bottles contain a powerful sedative. If you were to drink one, you’d be dead to the world for many hours. The rest of these liquids are all ingredients or catalysts for alchemy.”

“Thanks, Tiladia!” Morgan swept the potions and vials into his storage ring. “Keep me posted on any progress with the books, okay?”

“Of course, Morgan!”

“Tiladia, is there a broom here? I bought stuff to wash the tile before, but I need to clean the ashes out of the dueling hall.”

“Oh, that won’t be an issue. The dueling hall has been enchantments on the floor and walls to facilitate self-repair and cleaning. The old master used to have some very messy exhibitions in there.” Tiladia flared and spun about as she spoke.

“Ahh, while I enjoy that convenience, it kinda creeps me out.” Morgan shook his head ruefully and began walking to the stairs. Tiladia followed along behind him.

“Morgan, your aura has grown more threatening, and I sense more depth to your combat abilities. Would you like to talk about your journeys?”

“Uh, yeah. I killed some more Yovashi, and it seems there aren’t very many of them left in the world, so the System gave me this title that makes me more threatening. Oh, and then I found an ancient paladin’s spirit, and he gave me his legacy.”

“Quite eventful! I think, with a bit more training, you’ll be ready to challenge the next champion.”

“That’s the goal. I want to clear a couple more floors of this place; then, I have to get serious about finding my way to my friend, Issa. What’s on the next floor, anyway, Tiladia?”

“That’s the portal hub.”

“Portal hub?” Morgan stepped onto the stairs and, after another step, was on the second floor.

“The old master had a hub of portals on the fourth-floor landing. They opened to his other estates and some major cities’ libraries.”

“Holy shit, that’s cool! Are they still active?”

“No, but the keystones to them are probably in the reliquary,” Tiladia answered as she followed Morgan onto the third-floor landing and into the dueling hall. Just as she’d predicted, the ashes and burn marks were gone from the springy wooden floor. The hole he’d made in the wall with his spear had also disappeared. Morgan smiled, stepping over to one of the benches and removing his armor, belt and boots. He stepped out on the floor in his black trousers and shirt and with just his katana in his hands and began to work through the five forms of The Fighting Crane style.

The first form, The Crane Forages, had him holding the sword low, pointed in front of him, as he slowly advanced, the tip weaving back and forth in a deceptively hypnotic pattern. From there, he transitioned to The Crane Takes a Minnow - a powerful thrust that had a slightly downward angle and positioned his side to the target. After that form, he smoothly rolled into The Crane Defends the Nest, a back step, then a side step, with tightly controlled parrying motions. Next, he transitioned into The Crane Advances - sword held high, point forward, solid and deep steps toward the enemy with a low center of gravity. Finally, he practiced The Crane Flutters its Wings, a sweeping flurry of blows that arced from high to low and then low to high angles.

After a complete set of the five forms, Morgan found it natural to slip back into the first form and start again. He knew he could practice these forms in a different order, but he wanted to feel like he had perfected them before he began to mix them up, and right now, he was going very slow, quite a long way short of mastery. In the rhythm of practice and the sweat of honest work, Morgan began to lose track of time, and it was only after hours of training and a rumbling in his stomach that he decided to take a break. His focus had been so complete that he wasn’t sure if Tiladia had been there the whole time, but when he went to put on his boots and armor, she was hovering nearby.

“You’re movements were a lot more natural-looking at the end there, Morgan.”

“Thanks! I wish I had an instructor or a sparring partner.”

“I’m sorry I’m not more help in that regard. My form is too incorporeal. I never learned much about swords, in any case. I did my fighting as a dragon with claws and teeth and fire.”

“Sounds like you were formidable!” Morgan smiled, pulling his boot on and standing. He shrugged into breastplate and slipped his katana into his ring; it was just more convenient than having it slapping against his legs while he walked. “Any idea of the time?”

“I’m sorry, no, but I can tell you that you’ve been practicing for just a bit more than four hours.”

“Perfect! Thanks again, Tiladia. Any idea how long it takes to improve a skill past basic with just practice?”

“It depends on many factors - the skill, the person, the practice. Some skills improve much more quickly than others. Some people are more gifted learners. I’ve seen someone improve their skill in alchemy from basic to improved in one day. Of course, that person was a skilled enchanter with hundreds of intelligence.”

“Shit. I thought I was doing well with my intelligence.” Morgan started walking for the stairs.

“You’re young, Morgan! You’re doing quite well!” Tiladia flashed brightly, following after. “Have you considered inviting some of your colonist friends to come and spar? It might improve your learning.”

“You read my mind, Tiladia,” Morgan smiled. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t fishing for compliments; I know I’m still fresh meat in this world.” He bid Tiladia goodbye, then walked downstairs and headed out to meet with Olivia, Arthur, and the others. He was pleased with his progress; he really enjoyed doing the sword forms. Now that he knew such things as styles existed, he figured there were probably some for spears, but he was happy with the sword. He felt like he could improve quite a lot just by practicing his forms and then doing some cultivation drills. He kind of wanted to commit the next few days to just that; he just needed not to get wrapped up in something else before he could do it.

It was mid-afternoon as he walked up the slope toward the colony’s center. He passed a few people who waved in a friendly manner. Thinking about how the System had subverted their plans to start a colony on a new world, Morgan had to admit that things were going reasonably well so far. Even though he’d been forced to fight for his life and experienced some real horrors, the colonists hadn’t lost even fifty people in the couple of weeks they’d been here. From extensive briefings and repetition about risks, he knew that the Pilgrim program had anticipated losses of life up to thirty percent in the first year on a new colony. Of course, they’d had best-case scenarios that were a lot cheerier, but the fact remained that colonizing an unknown planet was a risky business. Morgan shook his head. Here he was, in a good mood from a bath and a hot meal, and he’d already begun forgiving the System. He needed to remember how it was meddling with them on so many levels. Sure, there were benefits, but was a loss of freedom worth it? “Control what you can control, dummy.” He chuckled and walked up the hill to the Colony Stone.

He wanted to check one thing in the Contribution Store before finding the others. He put his hand on the smooth surface and called up the menu for weapons. He found and bought wooden training swords of several different types. He searched the menus but didn’t find any kind of practice dummy. “Guess I’ll have to find a living dummy.” He laughed and walked over to the edge of the hill, looking down at the tavern. Olivia had said they’d meet there; apparently, there was a private room off the common area. He walked down the hill, across the cobbled road, over the raised deck, and into the bustling tavern.

The inn was busy but not nearly as busy as it had been in the morning. Morgan figured he was past the lunch rush and too early for dinner. He saw a burly man cleaning the bar with a rag and waved. “Heya, is the council meeting yet?”

“There’s a couple of them in there. You want some mead before you go in? It’s not fresh brewed; that takes a while. The council bought a few kegs off the Contribution Store, though.”

“Well, shit, yeah!” Morgan walked over to the bar and took the proffered mug of mead. He’d never had mead, so he was surprised by the thick sweet taste. “Honey?”

“Yeah, but be careful. It’s strong as shit.” The man smiled, rubbing his curly brown hair with a hand. “Name’s Alec, by the way.”

“Nice to meet ya! Morgan.” Morgan took another pull of the mead, then smiled, waved, and headed over to the wooden door leading to the private table.