Malcolm Tent
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Wish upon the Stars chapter 608
🕑 Added 2024-04-19 23:48:05 +0000 UTCMy new staff was amazing. I might have been a bit biased about the issue, but still, I loved it. I wanted to immediately go do some sparring, but I knew that we had other things to do. So, with nothing else to do, we decided to look around the market to see if there was anything besides weapons we could use to our advantage.
There was, but there also wasn’t. I’d spent fifty D-ranked chits on my staff, (the woman giving us a pretty amazing deal because she’d had the thing forever and no one wanted it) and only had thirty left. I had a good set of properly ranked armor, and my spatial ring was still fine, so there wasn’t much else I needed.
I considered blowing my budget on elixirs, since I still had my ten thousand point allotment this rank, but I decided that it would be better to use it for the last leg of the journey again, because it had worked out well last time.
Which was how we found ourselves standing outside of a small, run down store in the back corner of the district. This one wasn’t anything as impressive or dramatic as a weapon shop. It was a book store.
‘Tales of Trayven’ was old, musty, and dark. The light was dim inside and the walls were stacked high with books of a variety of shapes and sizes. Rather than stack them neatly on a shelf, the books had been jammed in at every possible angle, some vertical, some horizontal, some diagonal.
Because of the huge variety of sizes and shapes, the walls looked like a chaotic mess, and rather than have discrete shelves, the walls were lined with books themselves, stacked to the rafters (and some IN the rafters). Behind the counter at the back, reading a book by the light of a mostly melted candle sticking out of an actual human skull, was an old man.
I’d…never seen an Ascendant that old before. I had no concept of what his age must be to look like he was in his 90’s at…well I wasn’t sure of his rank, but it was higher than D. Sure, he was in good shape for an older guy. But between the steel grey hair and the lines on his face, he was probably nearing the edge of his D-rank years.
“Well?” He asked, voice sharp and commanding. “Are you going to stare at me like an idiot or tell me what books you’re looking for.”
Benny cleared his throat. “Well, we aren’t really sure what we need. We were just hoping to-” He cut off as a book came whirling from behind the counter like a throwing star and thunked right into his forehead. “Ow. What the hell?”
“Moron!” Snapped the old man. “I run a book store, not an information directory. Don’t come in here and waste my time with nonsense. Come up with a subject to ask about or get the hell out!” He gestured at the walls, which given this was an Ascendant shop, were much larger than the outside of this building would suggest. “This is the finest collection of rare tomes in three factions.”
Abel perked up. “Do you have any Skill or Spellbooks-” He dipped to the side to avoid the next thrown book, but it curved in midair and smacked into his forehead, just above the mask. He glared at the old man, rubbing his head. “What was that for?”
“This is a book store.” The old man reiterated. “Not a Skill repository. The books here contain knowledge. If you want to learn a Skill go buy a crystal.”
I nodded slowly, carefully considering how to ask. “Well…how about books on the vanished gods? Do you have any of those?”
His head finally came up out of his book, eyebrow raising. “Well now. That’s an interesting request. No one has seen fit to come ask old Arble about the times before the times. You’d think being all high and mighty powerful would make them smarter. Still morons though.”
“Arble?” Asked Zeke in disbelief. “YOU’RE Arble? Arble the Ancient? Arble the oldest A-ranker? What the hell are you doing running a shop in a place like this?”
Able sneered at him. “And where else would I run a shop, moron? Some political shithole den of snakes in one of the galactic centers? The day I need some A-ranked puppy to tell me where I should do business is the day I drift peacefully off into the great sleep.”
Zeke just snorted. “So…I assume you came for the meeting then? Lark brought you?”
“Morgan-boy might have asked me to hang around.” He said lazily. “Lots of people here for this little shindig. Old Arble is always happy to bring education to the blithering masses. Morons like you need a firm and guiding hard, don’t you know?”
Rolling his eyes, my uncle shook his head. “If you’re Arble the only reason no one has asked you for information is because they don’t know you’re here. You’re one of the oldest A-rankers in the five factions. Over twenty thousand years last I heard it. No wonder Lark wanted you around. So do you have any info on the vanished gods?”
“Knowledge is power.” Arble said thoughtfully. “What right do you have to seek my power, brat? Just another puffed up A-rank baby trying to tell old Arble how to organize his books. Your young man there knows how things are done.” He nodded to me. “Came in a customer and asked old Arble to show his wares. None of this ridiculous war nonsense, just a curious youth looking to find knowledge.”
I cut my uncle off, nodding to the old man. “So, do you have a book we might reference? Something with more than one deity mentioned maybe?”
He nodded approvingly. “That I do. In fact, I have several. Historians seek knowledge like a dying man seeks water in the desert, and they’ve sometimes got a hankering for strange and obscure subjects. That’s how they become renowned, you see. You do research on a niche subject hoping to exploit it for popularity, and if your subject becomes important for some reason your rank explodes. Quite a few niche historians going to rise to prominence off this war.”
I was surprised to hear that. I knew about historians and archivists, people who worked with the historical society set up by the Vikram family, but I hadn’t considered how that might be related to cultivation.
It made sense though. Creating an academic structure like that would be beneficial for society, circulating important discoveries to help historians who were important rank up so they could keep contributing. I glanced around the shop. “Are all of these books written by niche historians trying to discover the next big historical find?”
“Oh it’s not all academics.” he said lazily. “Historians are useful in many ways. Archeological finds, tombs, ancient cities. As many of them are treasure hunters as academics, though far fewer of those accomplish anything of consequence. Moron children with moron dreams. And not all of them stick to singular topics. Some of them research larger subcategories.”
I could see where he was going with this. “So there have been historians that studied the banished gods as a whole? Cataloguing them maybe?”
“Departed Deities.” He said, flicking a finger and catching a book that sailed off a shelf without any physical contact. “By C. Albert Crick.” He passed me the weighty blue leather volume. “Not much information on each.” He admitted. “But for scope it’ll do you just fine. I have another copy, but those S-ranked brats will need to pay through the nose for it.” He winked at me. “Don’t let them pressure you into showing them yours without extracting concessions.”
I laughed at that. “I won’t. I was curious, by the way. Do you have any books on Skill construction? I’ve noticed there doesn’t seem to be a Skill for that.”
“Of course not.” He said with a snort. “Build Skills with your soul, don’t you? The soul is beyond the system that quantifies our skills and stats. But also of it. A complex topic. As I told your friends there, knowledge beyond the scope of Skills and abilities can still be useful.”
Nodding slowly, I considered that. I was sure you COULD make a Skill out of plenty of these, but he wasn’t wrong. Just because you needed information didn’t mean you needed a Skill. Historians in general probably worked on that premise. Not everyone wanted to become an archivist just to learn some things about the past.
“As for a book…” He looked me over. “A Wyndham, are you? Interest in Skill development is to be expected, but younger than most. A good head on your shoulders.”
He reached under the counter and pulled out a key, turning to unlock a cabinet. Pulling out a small, unassuming book bound in grey leather. He passed it to me, and I read the spine. “Basics of Skill design by Alistair Wyndham.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “A family member huh? Thanks, I appreciate that, but I don’t know if I can afford both. I have to assume these books are pricey.”
“Bah.” He snorted. “Wyndhams. So concerned with price and exchange. This is my bookstore, whelp, and if I say they’re not too expensive then they’re not. Thirteen D-ranked chits for the pair of them, and not a single coin more.”
My eyes widened. “That’s… that’s very generous, thank you.” I snapped my fingers, storing the books away, and counted out the chits.
He stared at me. “You remind me of someone I used to know. An old friend. He was much smarter than you are, but he had the same look in his eye. Like he wanted to devour the world and come back for seconds. You come back sometime, next time you figure out what kind of knowledge you need. Old Arble has books on everything.”
“I’m getting married in a few months probably.” I said wryly. “You have a book on how to not fuck that up?”
He snickered at that. “You ever find a book that tells you that, you bring it here and sell it to me. I’ll pay you your weight in A-ranked chits. You read those books careful now whelp. Plenty of things in there to help a young buck like you.”
I thanked him and then turned to leave the shop. Something had caught my eye. Another book with a familiar name on it. I walked over to the shelf and reached in between two huge tomes, pulling out a small book bound in red leather. “Contract efficiencies and subclauses by Elijah Wyndham.” I opened it, finding thin, densely packed pages full of information on contract construction.
Despite the years, I recognized some of the terms and quotes as things my dad had included in my lessons as a kid.
“Haven’t seen that in years.” Said Zeke with a whistle. “Historians aren’t the only ones who publish, though academic reputation doesn’t often add much to a combat focused Ascendant. You going to pick up a copy?”
I snapped it shut, sliding it back onto the shelf and turning away. “No thanks.” I said calmly. “I’ve learned all I need to about that topic.”
My dad had shaped so much of my life growing up, even without actually being around. But as I’d grown, especially since Ascending, I was more and more certain that I didn’t want to be him. Didn’t want to do things his way.
I was on my own path, finding my own way. I wouldn’t turn down knowledge for the sake of it, but that book wasn’t anything I needed. The others followed quietly, probably digesting the same information I was, and thinking about the strange encounter. Or…you know, they didn’t want to get hit in the back of the head with a book on the way out. Could be either one.
Comments
CringeWorthyStudios
Always love meeting the incredibly powerful suspicious old man in the random shop. One of my favourite tropes. This was well done too.
Dylan Alexander
Great chapter! Always been a big fan of characters actually utilising knowledge. Knowledge is power after all.
Kevin McGuire
I love old Arable.
