A realization hit as he sat there, feeling good about his skill picks and the decision to keep two points in reserve, in case a situation arose where he might need a specific skill.

  Luke: "Shit, guys. Sorry. I sort of rendered myself unconscious. Am I too late for that beer?"

  Priyah: "I'm home now. Nash is passed out on my floor. He drank a lot."

  Sam: "Long-haired music man bad at drinking."

  Savannah: "Nothing wroing wfith doing a dslitttle party? No!?"

  Luke: "Didn't even know you could get messages that twisted. Hold on. Like this? No, it doesn't work. Can't even do it on purpose. How are you messing up like that?"

  Savannah: "Sssshhh. Seeeecrets, y-ya know?"

  Priyah: "You missed it this time, but there's always next time."

  Luke: "How did you do with the monsters?"

  Priyah: "It went... OK. I'll let our party leader tell you when he's coherent again in... a few days, maybe."

  Sabranners: "Nighty nighttt, new friensds!"

  Luke: "Even her name is spelled wrong now."

  Luke: "Anyway, good night. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

  Once again, he'd missed a social gathering. Better watch out, or he'd grow into some solitary loner. That thought brought up the image of Leslie burning on the floor of that hotel room, and Luke shuddered, concentrating on something else to get himself out of that negative spiral of thinking.

  "Enchantments!" he said in a loud voice, clapping his hands.

  Still at level one. It was time to do something about that. He reached over to the pillow.

  Pillow of Intelligence: +2 Intelligence.

  Alarm Clock of Vitality: +2 Vitality.

  Remembering to test something he'd been wondering about, Luke re-enchanted the clock.

  Alarm Clock of Strength: +2 Strength.

  It worked. That meant he didn't have to hold back enchantments just because they weren't great, since he could always just apply other ones later. With that in mind, he brought out the robe and enchanted it.

  Unwavering Robe of The Fiend (Of Wisdom): Your presence is obscured from all but the most perceptive. This garment instills fear in the undead (+2 Wisdom).

  Putting it on just so he would feel a little more badass, rather than haggard and tired, Luke got off the bed in search of more items to enchant. He headed into the kitchen and opened a drawer.

  "Score."

  Fork of Intelligence: +2 Intelligence.

  Fork of Intelligence: +2 Intelligence.

  Fork of Intelligence: +2 Intelligence.

  Fork of Intelligence: +2 Intelligence.

  Enchantment failed: Item destroyed.

  The fork vanished into thin air. That was a surprise. Luke hadn't even known that was a possibility. The enchantment menu didn't say anything about ruining items, much less how high the risk of that happening was. Keeping up with the enchantments, he worked his way through the drawer.

  Fork of Intelligence: +2 Intelligence.

  Fork of Intelligence: +2 Intelligence.

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  Enchantment failed: Item destroyed.

  Fork of Intelligence: +2 Intelligence.

  Enchantment failed: Item destroyed.

  Two in quick succession. That wasn't good. He didn't feel any different when failing, and it wasn't like it was a skill issue, since Luke just used the skill. Considering that he'd soon be all out of forks if this kept happening, this was an issue he needed to study. The forks themselves didn't matter, of course. Destroying precious items did. Even thinking about destroying his new robe just to get two points in Wisdom sent a chill up his back, and he shuddered. No, that just wouldn't do.

  There was more to this. Had to be. Bringing a fistful of spoons with him, Luke returned to sit on the bed with his legs crossed in front of him. Holding up a single spoon, he reached out with a thread of mana, holding it up that way while his hands rested in his lap. If there were some way of decreasing the risk of ruining an item, he was set on finding it.

  Breathe in, breathe out. A calm spread through Luke's body, and he noticed his mana regeneration increasing, then allowed that knowledge to pass out of his mind. Centering himself, there was no room for stray thoughts. There was only the spoon floating in front of him. The room seemed to pull back. Even Smudge disappeared. Once there was nothing in his mind but the item in front of him, Luke regarded the utensil. It wanted to be enchanted, or perhaps the enchantment wanted to belong to the spoon. Either way, it was time.

  Improved Fork of Spoon: +3 Intelligence.

  Congratulations! You have reached Enchanter Level 2!

  Interesting. That meant the bonus wasn't fixed, and doing more than the bare minimum and activating the skill led to a greater reward. This little experiment still didn't prove whether the risk of ruining the item lessened when he concentrated, though. More study would be required for that, but he'd need a large sample size for that and compare results using both methods. What a pain. For now, though, that would have to wait, because he'd just reached Level 2. Just as he'd hoped, and with that, new enchantments became available, one of which he used right away.

  He brought the item out of his inventory and placed it in his lap before closing his eyes. Focus, focus. If this item broke, he might never find another.

  Unwavering Robe of The Fiend (Of Self-Repair): Your presence is obscured from all but the most perceptive. This garment instills fear in the undead (This enchanted piece of armor will repair itself as long as a single scrap remains).

  "Hell yeah," he muttered, opening his eyes.

  It had worked. While a bonus in an attribute was nothing to scoff at, this new enchantment meant he could use the robe without being in constant fear of ruining it. The Archon robe hadn't even lasted a single day, so using this greater version would've come with a healthy dose of apprehension. Now, though? Now, he could use it whenever he wanted.

  The list of new enchantments wasn't long. In fact, many of the previous enchantments were gone, replaced by a single one, and the Enchantment of Protection was gone, replaced by the self-repair one he'd just used. It made sense, since it was a better version.

  Enchantment of Power: A minimum of +3 in a chosen attribute.

  Enchantment of Self-Repair: Enchant a piece of armor, and it will repair itself as long as a scrap remains.

  Enchantment of Crushing Weight: Add a slight amount of weight to an item.

  Enchantment of Speed: Provides a minor speed boost when wearing an item with this enchantment.

  Enchantment of Recovery: A slight boost in stamina regeneration.

  Enchantment of Health: A slight boost in maximum health.

  Enchantment of Mind: A slight increase in mana regeneration.

  Just to make sure the limitations hadn't changed, Luke enchanted his socks. The speed buff didn't increase with the second sock, so the one item per buff still applied. Not for all of them, though. Enchantment of Mind made a noticeable, if small, difference, and when he added it to a second article of clothing, the buff increased. Same with enchantments of health and recovery. It didn't take long to find another limiter. Wearing three shirts with different buffs didn't work. Only the first one counted, and there was a hard limit at six enchanted items. With his robe, that brought the number down to five. Stupid limits. If someone wanted to wear eighteen layers of enchanted clothing, that was that man's business, wasn't it?

  In the end, since he was going to keep working on enchantments, Luke settled on enchanting six different articles of clothing with Enchantment of Mind. Narrowing his mind, he took his shirt off, then a sock. The regeneration didn't change. Dammit. That meant they only stacked up to a point. Additional testing showed that the mana regeneration increase stopped at three different enchanted items. This was different from the attribute enchantments, which worked all the way up to six, potentially giving him eighteen points in a chosen attribute, perhaps even more if he focused and got that number up. That wasn't too shabby. Not at all.

  Writing down his findings, Luke didn't react at first when the doorbell rang. It rang a second time, and he blinked, coming back from his enchantment theorizing.

  "Hide under the bed, Smudge," he said, walking to the door. Then he thought better of it and stored the pet into the interface instead, not wanting whoever had come calling to discover Luke harboring strange void-creatures.

  Luke opened the door and stared in surprise. "Dot?"

  Her eyes looked puffy and red, like she'd been crying, as did her nose. She wore the same clothes as when he'd last seen her. "Hey."

  "Hey," he said.

  "Why are you shirtless?" she asked, finding her voice. "And where is your sock?"

  "Um, I've been enchanting. Are you okay?"

  She shook her head and took a step forward, which placed her right in front of Luke. "You still owe me a date."

  "R-really? I thought."

  Dot reached out and wrapped her arms around him. The weight in his chest, which he'd done everything to ignore, lifted in that instant, and he embraced her. "I'd love a date. Let me just grab some clothes."

  Rather than answer, she put her hands against his chest and pushed him inside, then reached back and closed the door behind them.