I was led out the back of the Cathedral and down a dimly lit hallway toward the novitiate dorms. My mind was a swirling storm of thoughts, so I paid little attention to our surroundings. Eventually, I was ushered into a seemingly random room where Thedroe gently instructed, "Rest for a bit. It may help calm your mind." The moment I plopped down onto the cot, I stared blankly at the ceiling, my thoughts racing, until I finally succumbed to a restless slumber.
When I woke, I had no idea how much time had passed. The room was stark and utilitarian, containing little more than my cot, a single chair, and a small table meant for meals or reading. It seemed that novitiates lived quite austere lives, a sharp contrast to the opulence of the rest of the Cathedral.
A gnawing pain in my stomach reminded me that I hadn’t eaten all day. Caught up in the excitement of the morning and the chaotic events that followed, I had neglected to feed myself. Peeking my head out the door, I called out, "Hello?"
Silence answered me. Nevertheless, it felt as though it were the middle of the night, yet surely, if I searched long enough, I could find something to eat. Cautiously, I crept down the shadowy hall, passing several other dorms, a few resonating with the soft sounds of snoring.
As I continued, I eventually found myself back near the main area of the Cathedral, where I heard hushed voices conspiring, struggling to keep their tone low. Intrigued—and hopeful that perhaps one of them might direct me to the kitchens—I approached, but then froze in my tracks upon hearing words that sent a chill down my spine.
“Keep it down, you imbeciles. If any of the priesthood comes in before we're done, we’ll have to kill them. Arns, go make sure this trash didn’t draw any attention.”
My blood turned to ice. Heavy footsteps approached the hallway. Panic threatened to overwhelm me, but I fought it down, scanning the area for a place to hide. I pressed myself against the wall, trying to minimize my profile between two small stone pillars when suddenly, I felt a faint click.
To my astonishment, the wall pulled inward, revealing a hidden alcove. I must have inadvertently triggered a hidden switch! Quickly, I pushed the wall back into place, grateful that the mechanism was silent. Someone clearly wanted this place to remain hidden. That was perfect for me.
I heard footsteps mere moments later and felt an overwhelming sense of relief as they passed me by without discovering my presence. With no immediate threat looming, I glanced around the alcove I had stumbled into. It was small and round, about three meters in diameter, containing a switch next to the door I entered, another on the opposite side of the wall, and a small stone bench. It made me wonder if this was a covert way for priests to enter the Grand Cathedral undetected or perhaps a private space for confidential counsel. I had no time to ponder.
If my suspicions were correct, flipping the other switch might reveal a door hidden behind the tapestry depicting Halcis’s outstretched hands. But should I wait until morning?
No! The mention of murdering priests had put a rage into my heart. I had to stay and listen, to uncover the identities of those involved in this treachery. Firming my resolve, I pushed the switch. Thankfully, the door opened as quietly as the first had, and I could hear the conversation resume.
“Nothing in the halls, milord.” This voice was deep and slow, reminiscent of a giant.
“Good. We’re nearly ready. Keep this trash quiet while I get into position.” The other voice was light and regal, brimming with arrogance. He sounded like the type of person you’d want to punch within the first minute of encountering him. I decided to mentally label him Lord Snootley.
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A metallic click sounded, followed by a hum that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. Curious, I summoned my courage and stepped out to peer at whatever was happening.
Pushing the door open gently, the hum grew louder. I caught a glimpse of the scene unfolding before me. In the center of the Cathedral, a man was tied to a large, circular metallic contraption, directly behind the skill stone. In front of it, two men busied themselves with a strange device, twisting knobs on a metal box that had a large, round pipe extending from it. A large mana crystal pulsed brightly between the pipe and the box, its glow intensifying and shifting colors to match that of the skill stone.
“We're ready now, milord,” one of the men operating the device announced.
Positioned three meters behind the captive was a figure who could only be a noble—Lord Snootley, no doubt.
“Finally. Let’s get this done. Honestly, I don’t understand why the gods would bless gutter trash with such powerful skills. When you’re ready, Silas." To the side loomed a massive man clad in black leather, easily towering at 2.4 meters. He had to be the owner of that deep voice and the single largest human being I'd ever laid eyes on. I silently dubbed him Nope, as I never wanted to tangle with a man that looked like bears warned their cubs about HIM.
With bated breath, I risked another peek to see the unfortunate man bound to the contraption. If I was correct, he was one of the others who had undergone the awakening with me that very day. He had received the rare skill of Mimic—the ability to temporarily copy the skills of others to varying effects based on perks.
He was clearly furious. Straining against his bonds, his face was a mask of rage, and he screamed into his gag until his veins stood out prominently. Just as one of the men flipped the final switch, the hum reached a crescendo, and the captive thrashed violently—his struggles seemingly enough to twist the metallic ring that held him. Free of its base it began to fall.
What followed felt like it took an eternity, yet in reality, it transpired in mere seconds. The noble leapt out of the way as the captive fell toward him, landing behind a pew. The mana crystal erupted in a blinding flash, sending a beam of light through the skill stone and directly into the captive as he tumbled. The beam of light appeared to draw something vital from him, causing him to deflate, while traveling through the space Lord Snootley recently vacated, striking only empty space. I hadn't even begun to comprehend this when the beam continued its trajectory...straight into me!
I hurled myself back into the hidden alcove, and for the second time that day, I felt a voice resonate in my mind. Skill Gained- Mimic.
Realizing time was of the essence, I reached up and pressed the switch to close the door again, sitting motionless as though I were a corpse. The sound of clattering metal and a panicked shout echoed through the closed stone door. I remained frozen in that state until the numbness in my backside became unbearable.
Finally, I stood and opened my status for the first time since acquiring that cursed skill, both terrified and hopeful of what I might find.
PERSONAL STATUS
Cidrakas Lasalis
Level: 2
Strength: 16
Dexterity: 14
Constitution: 16
Wisdom: 8
Intelligence: 10
Charisma: 12
Free Points: 6
Skills
Advancement
Mimic
Blessings
The level proved it. You only gained a level when you gained a new skill or reached a skill level divisible by 25, all the way up to 100. 4 stats for the first level and 2 for every level after that.
I closed my status with trembling hands, reeling from the implications of what had just occurred. I was ecstatic about gaining another skill, yet devastated that it had likely come at the expense of an innocent life. I finally sank onto the small stone bench, trying to make sense of the events from this strange day, waiting until I was certain those within the Cathedral had truly departed.
