Growing up on the tundra was not what one might call a ‘fun’ or ‘easy’ life, at the best of times. Growing up in a tribe of nomadic barbarians that were focused on a warrior culture didn’t make it any easier. Being a girl in a tribe that believed that a woman’s place was in the home, churning out babies and tending to the camp, rather than doing anything important was far from helpful. Being the lone person with black, feathered wings, and an aura that radiated danger to those around me brought some misfortune, as well. And being a magic-user (or I would be, once my Status was unlocked) in a tribe that was intensely suspicious of magic in all its forms was… problematic, shall we say?
So, my childhood was not the best situation. The only thing that made it tolerable was that my parents truly loved me, and between their powers, they were respected enough that much of the rules of the tribe didn’t apply to them. After all, one was a powerful warrior, and the other was a druid. When you lived out in nature, that was a potent combination.
Still, that combination only served to keep the adults at bay. The kids of the village were a good deal less than friendly to me. Part of that was due to their parents’ attitude, but being the odd one out (the ‘freak’) didn’t help. When it was discovered that I had a birthmark in the small of my back that was a perfectly formed symbol of Auril, the Goddess of Winter, that caused more teasing. Kids were the same everywhere, it seemed. Thankfully, it never crossed the line into actual bullying, but it was a lonely few years as I grew closer to unlocking my classes.
On my twelfth birthday, Father gave me a crystal talisman. It was a shard the length and width of my pointer figure, in a simple obelisk design. From the thick end a rounded section had a hole passing through it for a leather cord, making it into a necklace. This was my Talisman, with which I could see my status, as soon as it unlocked.
It was tradition for a young person of the tribe to receive the talisman on their twelfth birthday, unless they unlocked their Status earlier, but just having the item and having it bonded to you didn’t unlock your class. I had to wait another six months before that happened for me. The System took its own time deciding on when a child was developed enough to have the burden of their status unlocked.
I wish there was some great story to tell of my unlocking. Some people in the Tribe’s history had stories like that, of course, since the tundra was far from a tame place to live. However, the Tribe was not in the habit of recklessly forcing its children into danger unless there was some need. They were the next generation, after all. No, it was another day, like any other. I woke up one morning to a familiar cramping that I had most certainly NOT missed, and a blue screen in front of my face.
I blinked, dismissing the screen I had been waiting twelve years to see. Now that I had the ability to access the System, I looked at the Talisman with fresh eyes. Unfortunately, those eyes told me very little when I tried to identify the object.
I sighed. Clearly, I would have to invest more points in knowledges to be able to get an idea of just how the item did what it did. Some mages were able to Identify objects, learning everything that the Voice of the World knew about them, but getting them to cast those spells for you was not cheap. Well, if I wasn’t going to be able to figure out how the talisman worked, I might as well see my Status.
“Status!”
I whistled softly as I looked at the status, and the level of detail that went into it. The thing even had the amount of coin I had to my name, the contents of my pack, and the clothes on my back! I knew that I was at or near the limit of what I could carry and fly (I couldn’t fly with more than a ‘light load’, after all), but I didn’t know I was exactly on the number! And all this other information, too! There had to be ways to organize this a little better. I would have to check the settings when I had time.
“Melinda, can you—”
I looked away from the Status screen to see my Mother standing by the edge of our tent, no doubt calling me to help with the morning chores. Food did not cook itself, after all, and even if I didn’t intend to go into leatherworking or tailoring, it was important to at least know enough of the basics to repair my gear, when I had any. I smiled, as I saw her mouth hanging open. She couldn’t see my Status, not even that there was a blue screen there, unless I allowed it, but she knew the look of someone studying their Status screen.
“My baby! ERIC GET YOUR LAZY ASS IN HERE! DON’T MAKE ME GET THE COOKING PAN!”
In an instant, I was swept up in a giant hug as my mother happily exclaimed at me finally being ‘a big girl’, and unlocking my Status. When Father came in, he just gave a booming laugh, and clapped me on the shoulder. I could tell he was happy, and wanted to say more, but there were things that just weren’t done. Not when one was one of the highest-ranking warriors in the tribe. But I knew he loved me, and was proud of me. And that was all I needed in that moment.
After a while, the celebration caused by my Unlocking, as it was called by the Tribe, settled down, and I was left with just myself, my parents, and the Tribe’s Chieftain and Elders, in the Chief’s big tent. I was nervous, of course. I had been anticipating and dreading this day ever since I knew the… superstitions of the tribe. Still, there was no avoiding this. It was tradition that, whenever a child Unlocked their abilities, the Elders and Chief of the Tribe were told, so that they might know how best to call on the child to aid the tribe. There was no point in a Rogue attempting to magically heal wounds, or a Cleric trying to fight beasts as a Warrior would. Each had their part to play in protecting and providing for the Tribe, and the Tribe was best served when all worked towards the role that was best suited to them.
Elder Liefson spoke first, as was right for the most aged Elder during a Declaration ceremony. “Child of the Tribe of the Elk. For years, you have been a child, both in body, and in the eyes of the system. Now, your body begins to change, and the System sees fit to Unlock your potential. Speak now your name, lineage, titles, and the class you possess.”
I took a breath, and began to recite the words I had long rehearsed, waiting for this day, “I am Melinda Eriksdaughter, child of Erik Olrikson of the Tribe of the Elk. I am a Twice-Souled pledged to Auril the Frostmaiden, Goddess of Winter. I am blessed with two classes, that of the Warlock, using offensive magic as my bow, and the Battledancer, using my fists and feet as my hammer, to smite the enemies of the Tribe.”
There was some consternation within the tent at my announcement, though not as much as might be expected. I had, after all, mentioned to Mother and Father that I was Twice-Souled, and they knew what that meant. Clearly, they had told the Chief and the Elders. That, combined with my obviously fae heritage no doubt led many of them to believe that I would have some sort of magical ability. Their reaction was like one presented an unwelcome truth that they had already long suspected, if not known outright, was coming.
The Chief bowed his head, and said, “So let it be known. And a word of warning to you, young Eriksdaughter. The Elders and I are wise enough to know that magic, properly controlled, has a place in defending the tribes, even if we prefer the honesty of combat on the field. However, many of our people are not so… enlightened. Your skill as a Battledancer will go far towards countering this, but know that there will be those who distrust and fear you for walking the Warlock’s path.”
I bowed my head. “Then they may come and face me openly, and I will use all my power to prove to them why I can hold my own on the battlefield.”
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