My Own True Calling 57 - It Still Feels Like Failure (Patreon)

There’s not much for us to do now that we’re bedridden...again. We’ve really got to stop getting ourselves hurt so often. I’m sure I’ve said that before, but maybe one of these days it will stick if I keep repeating it.

I wonder if this is the closest to death we’ve ever gotten. We’ve been shot, beaten, blown up, even stabbed through the heart once. Actually, when I lay it all out like that, it’s insane how much crap we’ve been through without dying. I think it’s probably between impalement and drowning, but weirdly enough we were able to fix the worst of it pretty quickly when the demon pierced our heart. Attributes and skills make everything weird.

So I guess drowning is the closest we’ve come to actually dying—a new record. It doesn’t actually feel like it, though. Oh, it doesn’t feel good, that’s for dang sure, but physically I feel just fine. Talla practically broke herself to make sure of that.

“Death is a flirt, huh?” I mutter to myself, recalling an old conversation with Draga.

In this very ship, no less. Funny how things circle around like that. A sign, maybe? Except that she wasn’t flirting when she came for Draga. Just like he warned, you can’t keep slipping the noose forever. It hurts to think about, knowing that he taught us to respect our mortality while actively facing down his own.

Right, I’m being way too macabre right now. I need a distraction. As much as I wanted to wait until Vi is feeling better, let’s get a look at our new levels.

[Level up!]

Ranger's Legacy has grown from level 8 to 10.

+2 Resilience.

+2 Will.

Ranger's Legacy has reached its maximum threshold. [Upgrade] or [Fuse] the class to unlock further progression.

I’m sure Vi will be excited to see her upgrade options later, but for now I’ll leave them alone. This will be the first time we upgrade a class without fusing it, which should be interesting. It started out as a two-star class, so it’s kind of like we got to level two at once.

[Level up!]

Eldritch Witch has grown from level 3 to 4.

+3 Resilience.

+3 Awareness.

+6 Ego.

Not sure what Mags did to earn us that. Then again, maybe it wasn’t her. The advancement conditions are to “comprehend the incomprehensible,” and I feel like my reluctant foray into magical experimentation might have given me a little bit of insight into the [World Engine], or at least the part of it that controls how thaumaturgy works.

[Level up!]

Dreamwalker has grown from level 4 to 5.

+3 Awareness.

+3 Ego.

+6 Will.

Evie really worked hard this time. Without her, they might never have found us, and Talla wouldn’t have been able to revive us. The first-aid handbook was quick thinking—how did she even know to look for it? I should ask her later.

[Level up!]

Armswoman has grown from level 6 to 9.

+3 Power.

I almost laugh. There’s no class to describe what Revi did to help us through that ordeal—or if there is, she doesn’t have it. I still have mixed feelings about her, but Reverie’s unflappable calm can be pretty comforting when we’re panicking for our lives. She does a lot for someone who never does anything.

[Level up!]

Language Teacher has grown from level 4 to 6.

+4 Awareness.

+4 Ego.

Last but not least. I’m a little confused how I managed to gain two levels in this, but it was probably Evie reading the manual from our memories. She’s learning faster than I realized, considering how much she still complains about studying.

Conspicuous in its absence is [Incandescent Souls]. Still?! Is it going to be sitting one off of mastery forever? I even caved and started doing magic, but I guess that’s just a start. I don’t know what the heck it wants us to do, but it feels like we’re a little closer now.

Speaking of magic, I have new spells now. Well, only one that I made from scratch, but I’m learning.

Aside from [Metabolic Stasis] letting me knock myself out to survive extreme situations like cold, starvation, or yes—drowning, I have a few other prizes from my frantic race for survival.

[Moodfire]

Conjure a small flame attuned to the emotions of whoever holds it, changing color based on their mood.

That one’s sort of a failure. I used [Empathic Nature] and bargained for something to let us communicate without words, hoping that it would help us guide Nipper to the ship or the ship to us or...something. I got what I asked for, but not quite what I wanted.

[Rocket Jump]

Propel yourself with controlled bursts of flame.

My attempt to make a safer version of Vi’s [Thermodynamic Conversion] really puts how dangerous that spell is into perspective. It also wasn’t very useful while we were unconscious, so after that I mostly gave up and just focused on [Metabolic Stasis] while Evie and Nipper handled the rest.

I know it was important, and that it was silly to expect more than one major success out of my first forays into real magic, but it still feels insufficient. I wish I could have done more. Even knowing, rationally, that we’d have died without [Metabolic Stasis], I still feel like I’m the one holding us back. Maybe I always will.

As tempting as it is to practice a bit with the pyrokinetic powers of basic [Pyrothaumaturgy], I still don’t really want to do more magic than I absolutely have to. So, in search of more distractions, I review my interface.

[Allison: Tier 2 Human]

[Class Slot 1: Tier 2 Incandescent Souls]*** - Level 9/10

[Class Slot 2: Tier 1 Language Teacher]** - Level 6/10

[Attributes]

Power: 63

Resilience: 63

Awareness: 85

Ego: 85

Will: 6

[Skills]

Inner Flames

Pyrothaumaturgy

Burning Innervation

Explosive Throw

Polyglot

Perfect Pronunciation

None of that really means much to me at this point. The single-digit Will attribute is probably not great, but I’m rarely the one that has to flex it. Then again, I know that Maggie’s is the same. Actually...a thought occurs to me, and after a bit of mental math I rearrange the interface to lay it out.

[Will Comparison]

Allison: 6

Magdalena: 6

Reverie: 6

Violet: 16

Evelyn: 96

I’m glad Evie taught us how to do that—it’s really convenient. I knew that Evelyn’s Will attribute was higher than the rest of us, but actually looking at it like this makes me realize how significant it is. And I didn’t notice what it meant at first, but in hindsight, it’s painfully obvious.

Evie came out of that ordeal better off than any of us. Violet’s practically catatonic, Maggie dissociated in the middle of the fight, Reverie always hides herself away in our subconscious, but Evelyn?

She may not have kept her cool—she was as panicked as the rest of us—but she stayed...stable. Evie worked as hard as the rest of us, pushing her [Dream Walking] to its limits and dredging up important memories from our past to help Talla save us. She was casting spells too. Even if she didn’t participate in the fight itself, I’d argue she contributed as much as Mags did. All I did was mess around with magic and cast one measly spell and I’m a depressed wreck.

“Evie, how are you feeling after all this?” I ask.

“Huh?” she responds, startled. “Me? Fine, why?”

“Well, we did drown,” I point out.

“I’ve had worse,” she chuckles.

See? Girl’s even joking about her own death. And unlike Mags, that’s not just manic energy pushing her through the pain—she’s got a negative reaction to strain like the rest of us—she just isn’t feeling it.

“We really should have taken Talla’s warnings more seriously,” I grumble. “I think your class just won the race to merge into our core.”

“I wasn’t aware there was a contest,” she replies. “But I’m afraid that if we put it to a vote, I’ll choose Maggie’s instead.”

That brings me up short. This has something to do with their shady project that involves reshaping our astral body, doesn’t it? Blood and acid, I wish we’d actually had a proper conversation about that, but without Violet available there’s no point doing it now.

“Even if that means we keep crippling ourselves like this?” I ask. “Even Mags must realize we can’t keep doing this.”

“Nipper is love, Nipper is life!” Maggie interjects. “I promised I’d bring our tamer class into our core. Plus, it’ll make our magic way stronger! We’re close to a major breakthrough, and a four-star fusion of multiple magic-focused classes is just what we need!”

Right, manic. Though even at her best, I should know better than to turn to Maggie for a voice of reason. I’ll just drop it for now—I don’t have the energy to argue.

“Speaking of Nipper, how’s his progress?” I ask.

“Here,” Mags says, distractedly—already losing interest in the conversation.

[Nipper: Tier 0 Astral Wurm Larva]** - Level 9/10

[Attribute Total]: 41

[Traits]

Magical Constitution

Matter Conversion

Limited Pyropathy

Astral Burrowing

“Oh, he’s almost to his next evolution already,” I note.

“Mhm, he’ll probably get there once he’s done with the leviathan remains,” she says. “Ideally he finishes evolving before we make it to shore.”

I guess technically it hasn’t been much faster or slower than last time. My sense of time is getting all messed up on this ship—the days and weeks blur together.

“We do need to save some of it for ourselves,” I remind her. “You know, on account of the curse you saddled us with?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s for the best anyway,” she dismisses me.

Goddess, she can be so annoying sometimes. I lie back in bed with a huff and let myself just doze for a bit.

I don’t know how long it is, but when I blink awake it’s to the pleasant aroma of dinner as Fargo himself comes by to make good on his promise to turn the giant monster meat into something edible.

“I do hope this pleases the palate, Miss Maev,” he says, offering me the plate with a courtly bow. “It’s been some time since I served magical dishes.”

His melodramatic flair makes me roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile a little at how extra he is. It’s a tiny bit charming.

The dish itself is a thinly sliced steak of lean pale meat with a golden-brown crust—like pork, maybe? It’s been drizzled with fragrant satsi—a strong garlicky sauce made by Talla’s family. Or more accurately, the farms owned by Talla’s family. As a garnish, it’s been topped with a slightly spicy herb and sprinkled with the sour, citrusy juice of a fruit that looks like a tomato—or maybe persimmon—and doesn’t quite taste like lemon, but has no other comparison I can think of. The rest of the fruit is on the side.

It smells amazing, and I eagerly take a bite after sitting up and thanking Fargo for the food. The meat has a texture like pork, but tastes halfway between chicken and fish. On its own, it would remind me uncomfortably of the raw lizard meat we had to choke down to survive the convergence point, but it’s balanced out by the pungent flavor of the satsi, the acidity of the juice, and the earthy aroma of the herbs.

“Holy moly!” I exclaim after the first bite. “Fargo, what the heck?! This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten!”

We had plenty of chances to enjoy nice food and delicacies while we were being hosted by nobility, and even enjoyed “authentic” serpentfolk street food, but this blows all of it out of the water. It tastes like something they’d serve in an upscale restaurant back home, where they’d charge you a fortune for a tiny serving on a huge plate. It almost feels wrong that there’s still a whole plate of this, rather than just another precious bite or two.

“I’m glad you approve!” he laughs.

“How are you so good at cooking?” I ask between bites.

He shrugs. “Skills, in part—I have [Traveler’s Fare] which lets me cook like a [Chef] even if all I’ve got is an open flame and some sticks. But I’ve always had a passion for it—and Taaka’s a terribly picky eater.”

I glance at the cat-ferret, who is currently nibbling on what appears to be a large wooden splinter from the hole that was blown in the side of the ship. She freezes, then narrows her eyes and turns away to shield the, er, precious morsel with her body.

“Right. How are the repairs going, by the way?”

“Already finished,” he answers, to my surprise. “We had plenty of spare lumber, since it’s one of the things Degala exports, and most of the crew has carpentry skills in at least their off-class. They are a clan of shipwrights, after all.”

I chew on a piece of the dinosaur meat as I consider that.

“Aren’t most of the crew freelancers?” I ask.

“Captain Jira still holds them to the standards of her clan,” he explains. “And many are Degala natives, regardless.”

“Oh...”

It occurs to me that I haven’t spent as much time getting to know the crew as I probably should. It’s been hard, when we’ve got so much to worry about. It’s like I’m being pulled in a hundred directions at once, and I don’t have the time or energy to give them all the attention they deserve. It still feels like failure.

Fargo notices my downcast expression and smiles gently.

“Get some rest, Maev. You’ve earned it after saving us all from that monster. I assure you that not a single person on this ship will forget that.”

I know that, I really do. It’s just that part of me really wishes that they would.