Threads of the Soul

Jane the homebody was not the only one these strange figures had stumbled across and valiantly rescued. Their group, which consisted of twenty members total, had rescued just over half of their own number.

It was quite easy to pick out which were the rescuers and which where the rescued. Even with a mixture of human and non-human figures, such as the man who was composed of dirt and black sand.

Of course, there was the fact that most of their rescuers carried weapons, but not all of them did. For the guaranteed way to know who was who, All you had to do was look at how they held themselves.

A large man who seemed to be half tiger shivered like a tiny, scared kitten, while a woman half size with green, flaming hair stood tall and proud. Both might have had these mystical abilities, but it was the confidence of the seemingly harmless woman that held the truth of her dangerous existence.

Even the seemingly powerless individuals within the group, the ones charged with carrying and maintaining the groups equipment, seemed more confident in themselves than those they rescued with powers. It was a reassuring air, to be sure, like the sensation of having a sheathed sword ready to dice apart anything that may come their way.

They were so confident in their abilities, in fact, that when it came time to escort the newly rescued civilians back to their so-called town, the group decided to split in half. One half would continue looking for more, while the others would escort these ones back with them.

***

"I'm telling you, I can feel it! My power is going to be the best ever. All I need is a few more meat rations and I'll finally get there. Then once I have my power, I'll be standing next to the Lord as his right hand man!"

"Oh, hear that Bob? Kid's gunning for your position, you better watch your back."

A chorus of laughs echoed out as the ground slowly made their way through the empty streets of the city. They had picked up a few more stragglers on their way, as well as slayed a few monsters that had impeded their travel, but it was nothing that they couldn't handle.

Rarely did they have to stop for more than a few minutes, and most of that was due to preparing the bodies for transport, or quickly harvesting the good bits from corpses too big to drag behind them.

The rambunctious youth in question, a kid around 15 years old, was a 'squire' of one of their team members and was acting as their porters. It essentially meant that his job was to carry the group's equipment, the items that couldn't be dismissed into tattoos, as well as to take care of the cooking whenever they made camp, amongst other duties.

Not everyone had a transportation gift, after all, so having someone to carry equipment helped ensure the fighters were ready to go at a moments notice. Of course, the squires were paid for their efforts, both monetarily and in the form of shares of any hunted meat.

The chatterbox squire, along with the civilians and another squire, were walking in the middle of a circle composed of their protectors. But whilst the civilians, and the pair of squires, were walking by the power of their own two feet, the warriors in question were riding mounts of various species.

Some rode mutated horses, with extra limbs, fiery manes or armoured bodies, while others rode less traditional mounts, such as a moose sized elk or dire wolves. One of them, which was dragging a sled filled with the beasts they had hunted and slain in their travels, had the appearance of the sordid love child of a salamander and a bull dog.

It was large enough for a human to comfortably saddle and ride. It was a bit on the slow side, and it wheezed and heaved with every laboured step as if it was on the precipice of death, that was simply how it sounded. However, what it lacked in speed, it made up for in strength.

Bob, who was sat atop this labouring beast, simply shook his head at the joking remark sent his way, having to concentrate slightly on forming a smile on his dirt face. He was still struggling with the intricacies of human expression, not only reading them on others faces but expressing them himself.

In his previous body, he only had to worry about the former and that was already irritating enough. Dealing with things like sarcasm, dis-ingenuousness, deception, not to mention the fact that some humans cried when happy as well as sad. I mean, pick a function for Father's sake!

Now he had even more to struggle with on top of that nightmare. Lessons with Cynthia had helped him, since she was one of the few that understood his struggle of having to manifest his expressions, but he was far from the master of it that she was.

She could copy others appearances and express herself in wonderful, over the top ways, just like in the anime he spent his nights watching through Fathers memories. Father said that they, and she, was a bad influence on him, but Bob liked his teacher.

Especially because while she could do all of that, All while he had to remember to even give himself a face to begin with. Eyes were the only thing he could do without focusing.

Though the lessons were slowly helping him, thankfully Bob's travel companions understood his 'condition', so his simple smile was enough to convey his amusement at the situation.

While Bob was focused on keeping his face in order and properly expressing himself, a meek voice sounded from within the group of civilians that they were escorting.

"Wait, we can actually gain powers? Like even those of us who missed out the first time?"

"Hell yeah we can! Although it's such a damn slog, honestly it's so unfair! If I could go as quick as the rest of you then I'd be..."

The innocent question ignited the boys fire once more, spurring him to go down an endless rant about how unfair everything is which soon turned into another long winded conversation about all the wonderful things he will do when he eventually gets his powers.

Ignoring the boy, as he started to leap around and pretend to fight imaginary monsters to the amusement of the rest of the group, the curious civilian who had asked the initial question turned to Bob and began to question him instead, since the boy had proved less than informative.

"What does he mean by unfair... um, Mr. Bob... Sir."

"He means the rate of point acquisition. For those without a mutation after the awakening, it seems the 'system' as they call it isn't kind to those folks. If you were to begin your own ascension path, you would have to gather one hundred gene points without an ability. Not stat points, which increase your existing stats, but a whole different type of points. Gene points require one hundred in total, starting from zero.

As if that isn't enough, the point acquisition itself is dreadfully low, as your bodies cannot handle too much mana at once. Most people can only handle one point per day, two if you are lucky and less if you aren't."

The inquisitive person's face shifted through a range of emotions as they listened to Bob's explanation, which was delivered with a monotonous and emotionless voice. That was another thing he was trying to work on, expression through voice. As if the face wasn't hard enough.

Although the explanation was monotonous and sounded bored in its delivery, that didn't mean it's contents weren't boring. Many of the civilians walking with them listened closely, especially those currently without powers.

Even the rambunctious young squire had piped down his ranting to listen, gently bobbing his head along with it as he remembered his own struggles with the gene point system.

Eventually, the civilian who had asked the initial question spoke up once more.

"So, that means it would take at least two months?"

"If you are lucky, yes. But many are not. Most of you will be looking at one hundred days, over three months, before you can get your mutation. However, there is one advantage to this method."

"Really?! Please, do tell Sir!"

All of the powerless individuals, except from the squires on duty, gathered in close as they hung on the words yet to fall from Bob's non-existent lips. Their ears perked up like a dog hearing the word 'treat'.

"Unlike those that naturally mutated. You can choose the stat you wish to put the gene points into, and thus which stat to mutate."

"Haha! And that is why I will be the most powerful of all, I know exactly which stat I'm going with to rule the world!"

The rambunctious youth couldn't help but laugh out again, throwing his fist into the air. A chorus of gasps sounded when they heard the news, before murmurs quickly spread amongst the groups of civilians. All discussing which would be the best to go with, and what powers they would love to have.

Such discussions lasted the entire trip, until they finally laid their eyes upon the wall of the town surrounding the castle on the hill.