Bog Standard Isekai

Brin stood in outside the public house scratching his head. He realized he didn’t actually have any way of finding Jeffrey. This town didn’t have an Inn; adventurers stayed in the old boarding house or rented a room from one of the townspeople. But this was Jeffrey’s hometown, for all that he spent most of his life on the road. He probably had a home here, although Brin had no idea where that was. He was beginning to wonder if anyone knew.

Jeffrey was something of a celebrity in this town, and not a scary one like Hogg, the Prefit, or Ellion the priest. He probably got swarmed by fans everywhere he went, but it would make sense that [Bards] would have Skills to avoid such things. He would bet they could use the [Inflame the Spirit] to make themselves harder to notice. No, he knew they could do that. Davi had demonstrated that just half an hour ago.

Where would he be, then? He had to be nearby, he wouldn’t miss his pupil’s debut performance. If it were Brin, he wouldn’t be inside the public house, too big a chance that someone would see through whatever disguise he was using. He’d sit right out in front, maybe bring a chair and--

Jeffrey was right there. He’d been sitting on a stool right next to the door the entire time.

“Well spotted,” said the [Bard]. He wore a loose-fitting shirt rolled up to his wrists, and a brown cap that would be humble if not for the colorful peacock-sized feather sticking from it.

“Aah!” said Brin, flinching back. “How long have you been there?”

“Since before you came in. I wouldn’t miss this,” said Jeffrey.

“He did really good! You’ve been training him well. The emotion stuff was particularly well-handled. I think having him push a lot more softly was the way to go,” said Brin.

Jeffrey strummed a chord, slow and soft. “Anyone can play loudly. The first step towards proficiency is the ability to play quietly.”

“I think you do. You have a bit of [Bard] in you as well. Here. Play something.” Jeffrey said, and handed Brin the lute.

Brin started playing a few chords of one of the songs Jeffrey had taught him before System Day, but Jeffrey put a hand on the lute, stopping him.

“Play something of yours. Davi tells me you have something, yes?”

“Uh, sure,” said Brin, a little embarrassed. He played his rendition of Fair home in the Boglands. He felt a little silly at first, but it was supposed to be a little silly, and the little solos between verses were still pretty impressive in his mind. By the end he was smiling and playing with flair.

He finished, waiting for Jeffrey’s opinion. It was just a silly song, and he wasn’t a musician by any means, just someone who picked up the lute for fun. But it still surprised him to find how nervous he was.

“I see,” said Jeffrey, nodding. “Yes, I’ve seen this before. Truly a remarkable example. Honestly. This is a spectacular example of… self-sabotage.”

“W-What?” It felt like being stabbed, and that was coming from someone who’d been stabbed before. He didn’t think it was that bad.

“Not to worry, all my first songs were exactly the same way,” said Jeffrey. “You clearly put your heart and soul into writing that song. Those solos and that unconventional chord progression are the mark of someone who’s put his everything into something. But then you sabotaged yourself with the lyrics. You were so afraid of getting criticized that you made them silly.”

“It’s– It’s just a silly song,” said Brin.

“It could have been more, if you were braver,” said Jeffrey.

“It’s not even my song. It’s just something I heard once. I changed the lyrics to make them dumb,” Brin protested, but he knew he wasn’t on steady ground. It wasn’t just a dumb song. It was a song about home. It was a song from home.

“Oh, of course,” said Jeffrey with a patronizing smile. “You know, Davi’s original songs aren’t like that at all. They aren’t perfect by any means, but they are sweet and pure and completely genuine. Maybe that’s why he got the [Bard] Class and not you, hm?”

“Maybe,” said Brin. He thought he was over this, but Jeffrey was dredging up all kinds of uncomfortable emotions. He shook his head. “I’m not trying to out-[Bard] Davi. I’m happy for him.”

“I see,” said Jeffrey.

“Look, that’s not even what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you know of a way to train resistance to mental manipulation? I have an Achievement for it, but I don’t really know how to use it or how to tell when it’s working.”

Jeffrey thought for a moment, tapping his chin. He sat up on his stool. “Very well. I’ll help get you started. There are two main problems with mental manipulation. First is noticing when it happens, and second is breaking free of it. Normally, they’re one and the same. If you’ve noticed you’re being controlled, then you’ve already started to resist it.”

“Kind of like finding you just now,” said Brin. “Once I realized that you were probably hiding nearby I found you pretty easily. I don’t think I ever would have noticed you were there if I wasn’t looking for you, though.”

“So that’s the first key. Look. Make it a habit of taking a look around at odd times in your life and say, ‘Is anything out of place? Is anything strange?’ Don’t wait until you get a strange feeling or your gut says something is wrong. That won’t always happen.”

Brin nodded. “Right. That’s smart.”

“This will all be easier if you have a Skill for it, though. The Skill you mentioned, does it upgrade? Does it say anything about being tied to an attribute?”

“No, it just says ‘Extra Resistance against mental manipulation.’” said Brin.

“It would help if you had some sort of mental Skill that upgrades or something tied to Mental Control.”

“I have [Meditation],” said Brin.

“Ah! Perfect! Ok, here’s what we’ll do. Do you remember Adventurer’s Anthem?”

“Not very well.” That was one of the songs Jeffrey had taught him back during their occasional lessons before System Day, but it wasn’t one he was very confident in. It wasn’t a local favorite.

“Listen carefully,” said Jeffrey. He took the lute back from Brin’s hands.

“Wait, now?”

“Yes, now. Listen.”

Jeffrey played a song, not too different from the light-hearted music that Davi had started his set with. The music wasn’t too complicated, but Brin wasn’t exactly a musical genius; he wouldn’t be able to play it back after just one rehearing.

Jeffrey played, his golden voice melting into the afternoon sun, and nobody seemed to notice. The people on the street walked on by as if they didn’t see him there. A few of them nodded to Brin, but no one gave Jeffrey even a single passing glance. It was unnerving to see the mental effects at work.

Jeffrey played the song twice, and then handed the lute to Brin.

“Now you. We’ll start with the music first. Put your hand on A, then progress to…”

Under Jeffrey’s careful direction, Brin played through the music of the song, then again. The third time was almost decent, though he still needed Jeffrey’s help now and again.

“Keep practicing. I need to talk to my student,” said Jeffrey.

Just then, the doors to the public house opened, and a crowd of people spilled out. Davi was at the center of his family and friends, his broad shoulders looking like they’d buckle under the weight of so much positive attention.

Jeffrey slithered through the crowd, grabbed Davi by the shoulders, and led him out of the mass. No one seemed to notice or care that he was kidnapping the star of the show, they kept walking happily down the street, while Jeffrey led Davi off to the side.

They talked silently, only a few feet away from Brin. More likely they talked audibly, and Jeffrey politely insisted through his Skills that Brin not listen.

Brin strained to listen anyway. He knew that he was being messed with, but he couldn’t seem to push through.

It was galling. Here he was, standing right next to someone who was screwing with his head, and he couldn’t do a single thing to stop it. He reminded himself that this was why he needed Jeffrey. He needed to stop this from happening when there were real stakes.

He stopped trying to eavesdrop and focused on the song. Jeffrey’s help was tied to learning this song for whatever reason, so he focused on trying to get his fingers to play the notes.

A few minutes later, Davi went on his way and Jeffrey came back over and sat down on his stool. “Hm. You’ve more or less got it. I’ll expect you to keep practicing, but it’s good enough for now. Before we keep going, though, let me ask. During my conversation with Davi just now, did you try to listen in?”

“Yes. And I couldn’t. Whatever mental effects you were using, I couldn’t even feel it happening, much less resist it.”

“That’s because no mental effects were happening. I was muting the sound,” said Jeffrey.

“Oh.”

“The trick with resisting mental manipulation is realizing exactly when you’re being manipulated. That also means knowing when you aren’t being manipulated. Now, back to our song. You play it, and I’ll try to distract you.”

Brin knew about how this was going to go, but he’d asked for this.

He strummed the first few chords of the song, and then Jeffrey burst in. “Oh faithful wheels, thou stalwart rollers!”

Brin stopped. “Really? You’re going to play that song?”

Jeffrey gave a sly smile. “What else? Try again. Go on.”

Brin started the adventurer’s song again, and focused on shutting out everything around him. It was frustrating how quickly he failed. Then he failed again, and then again, and again. He didn’t know this song very well so it took a lot of effort to remember what was supposed to come next.

Jeffrey pulled no punches. He used [Inflame the Spirit] to draw Brin’s attention, to change Brin’s mood, or just to make him forget what he was doing. He was a better singer and player than Brin, and he wasn’t half-hearted in his rendition of Fair Home in the Boglands. He gave it a flourish that Brin was certain Ed King would have approved of. It was insane how well Jeffrey captured the spirit of a song he’d never actually heard the original version of.

More than once, Brin found himself singing and playing along, having switched his song without realizing it.

“Alright, I think you’re starting to see the problem here,” said Jeffrey. “Now I want you to use [Meditation] when you sing the Adventurer's Anthem. Instead of focusing on a mantra or your breathing, let the song be the focus.”

“I don’t… I don’t know how to do that,” said Brin. “I’ll try.”

“Do try. Your Skill will fill in the gaps for you. I’ll be silent while you work your first way through.”

Brin gave it a shot. He calmed his breathing, cleared his mind, and started to play. At first he just played the music very slowly and without singing along. To his surprise, the [Meditation] Skill kicked in and helped him out. He’d leveled the Skill quite a bit trying to organize his memories, and now he could feel the force of it, helping him erase distractions and keep his focus. With his undivided attention on the music, he played it through for the first time without any mistakes.

Alert! [Meditation] leveled up! 15 -> 16

He played it again, a little faster. Then again, and this time he sang along. It was difficult to stay in the meditative state while he sang, but the Skill helped him through it, and he played the song in a state of absolute centeredness.

Alert! [Meditation] leveled up! 16 -> 17

He couldn’t help but smile at the Skill progress, which made his meditative state fall apart. “Yes! Two levels in [Meditate].”

“Good, then let's try again. I’ll try to interrupt you this time,” said Jeffrey.

Brin got centered himself again, cleared his mind, and began to play. This time, he got to the first chorus before Jeffrey started trying to butt in. He focused on doing what he’d been doing before, on shutting everything else out and concentrating only on the song. It was difficult. Jeffrey’s song was a battering ram trying to break down his mental gates. He felt his Skill, or perhaps just his mind, pushing it away, redirecting those thoughts and bringing him back to his own music.

He lasted thirty seconds into the song, before Jeffrey shattered his attention by demonstrating an absolutely phenomenal solo.

Alert! [Meditation] leveled up! 17 -> 18

“Nice,” said Brin. “And hey, I lasted a lot longer that time.”

“You did. I think we’ve found our path forward. The more you resist mental manipulation while [Meditating], the more you’ll be able to recognize the feeling and resist it at other times. I have time to practice this for, say, one hour twice a week. Is that agreeable?”

“That sounds great! But I feel bad. Is there something I can do for you?”

Jeffrey’s smile was a row of perfectly white teeth. “You needn’t trouble yourself.”

“Still, I think I should do something. I know you’re already pretty wealthy or I’d offer to pay,” said Brin.

“No payment is necessary, and I would never be so crass as to ask someone for a favor. You’ll pay me back by being the person you are and acting the way you’re going to act. If I want to change how you’ll act… well…” said Jeffrey.

Unstated was the fact that Jeffrey could more or less make anyone do anything. Maybe Hogg was high enough leveled and paranoid enough to resist whatever a high level [Bard] could throw at him, but no one else around here was. Except maybe the [Witches].

“That’s not worrying or terrifying at all,” said Brin.

“If you think about it, you’ll find it doesn’t really bother you,” said Jeffrey.

It really didn’t, but Brin knew enough now to know that it was because Jeffrey was making it not bother him. He forced a frown on his face. “Don’t be so sure about that.”

“Good, you’re already improving. In that case, if I want something from you, I’ll just ask. We’ll leave the subtle manipulations aside, yes?”

“Thanks,” said Brin.

“Speaking of subtle manipulators…” Jeffrey looked at something behind Brin.

Brin turned, and saw [Weaver] Tawna standing in the middle of the street. She had a long gown, low cut, and there was no trace of scarring on her shoulders, at least not from the front. He had little doubt that she’d used Calisto’s ointments to heal the ones on the back, too.

“Ugh. Can we not? Things were going so well between us,” said Brin.

“I agree. The lack of contact between us was quite agreeable. But we must speak,” said Tawna.

She nodded to the [Bard]. “Jeffrey. Good day.”

Several people on the street blinked, as if now seeing Jeffrey for the first time. He removed his cap and bowed. “Good day.” Then he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Brin to face the viper alone.

Marksi darted from the doors of the public house and climbed up Brin’s back to settle on his shoulder. He fixed Tawna with a warning glare. So, not alone after all.

“I promised you that I would consult with you before interfering in your fate again. I have information for you,” she said. She looked at the gawkers, and they immediately turned to find something else to do. Soon, they were alone, even though this was normally a pretty busy street.

“We both know that Oath had more holes than a straw hat,” said Brin.

“I will keep it nonetheless,” said Tawna.

Brin waited.

Tawna cleared her throat, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Fate… How to begin… Despite what most people think, fate cares very little about matters of death. Most who come to me wish to know how to avoid death, but this often isn’t written clearly in the strands of their fate. Fate cares more about how they live. Their relationships, their aspirations, careers and hobbies, all these can be divined. Nothing is so clearly written in the threads of fate as those twists that involve matters of… of love.”

“Oh no. Stop right there,” said Brin.

“I cannot, though I will make it short. I’ve divined that it is your intention to resist all romantic entanglements until your twentieth year. Is that correct?”

“It’s none of your business is what it is,” said Brin.

“Some… some young girl may come to me in the future, asking for the best method to ensnare your heart,” said Tawna.

Brin turned and started walking home. “No. Nope. Don’t. Just don’t!”

Tawna followed behind, speaking forcefully in a low tone. “If she asks, no matter what I do, whether I speak truth or lie or tell her nothing at all, this could be seen as interfering in your fate. I would tell her the truth. That no plans on your heart will succeed in the next six years. I need your permission to say this, or risk violating my Oath.”

Brin stopped, making her jump to the side to avoid running into him. He grit his teeth. That did actually sound like something he’d want her to say. If it stopped a single awkward love confession from one of his friends, then wasn’t it worth it?

“That’s all you want to do? Tell them I’m not interested?”

“That is all.”

He grit his teeth. “Fine. You have my permission to give people advice on my love life. But only when that’s the goal, to let them know it won’t work out.”

“That is agreeable.” Tawna bowed her head, then turned and walked away.

He watched her go. The dress was low-backed, and not a single scar remained. He couldn’t help but feel like she’d won one over on him again, but he couldn’t see how.

He wasn’t blind. He saw the writing on the wall. This was about Myra; Tawna wouldn’t care about anyone else enough to do this. Having Tawna let her down easy was the kinder option.

Did he like Myra back? He didn’t let himself think in those terms. Anyone that age was a child, even if his hormones and body told him they were his peers. He’d done the right thing. Besides, Davi liked Myra. The bro-code alone demanded that he step aside.

As much as he told himself this was a good thing, the anxiety over that conversation followed him all the way home.

He needed to throw himself into something else. His love life, if he ever had one, was far in the future. He needed to start training for that Zilly’s duel, and the time to start was now.

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