This is a non-fiction work. based on an incident I had when attending a family gathering. I found this very amusing and thus, I am sharing it today.

A stereotypical fan-fiction about a person with a system, but I'll try and make it interesting anyways.

"Cevin," my twin sister called out to me and I automatically looked back to see her. I was quite surprised that the book that I was holding almost fell from my hands. 

Both my sister and I work in the library as student assistants. Our father died because of a car crash and our mother on the other hand works as a call center agent. Her salary isn't enough for the three of us that is why my sister and I became student assistants. It's the least we could do for us; for our mother.

"Ma'am told me to tell you to go to the room at the back of the library. She wants you to look for the book titled 'The Last True Cowboy' by Kathleen Eagle," she added and I just nodded at her as my answer. My sister got some books and she went to her desk to fix the cards of the books. I walked swiftly towards the room to find the book I was asked to look for. 

I arrived at the room and turned on the switch of the room but the bulbs didn't light up. I turned on the flashlight of my phone and one by one, I looked at the shelves to see the book ma'am wanted me to get for her.

I saw different kinds of books on the shelves, with different genres made in different timelines. Almost all of the books here are books that aren't frequently used or borrowed. Old books, to be more specific. Fiction, non-fiction, old news articles, et cetera. Most of them are all kept here but the problem is, the books aren't all organized which makes looking for specific books difficult to see.

I also have the interest in reading books. I don't find watching television very interesting because it doesn't get me to use my imagination very well. In every book that I read, I like it when I get to imagine the worlds or the situations being described by the author through his or her character's senses. In this way, I get to make my mind active other than doing school works.

My index finger stopped when I saw the book I was supposed to look for. I pulled the book from the shelf but was a little bit startled when a black book beside it fell on the floor. It was opened when it landed and to my curiosity, I pointed at my phone to see what book it was. 

"Weird," I commented when I saw nothing written, drawn, or printed on its pages. I knelt down to further examine the book but when I came across its book cover, it even had no title. I got lazy returning it on the shelf so I just left the book on the floor. 

I went outside the room and went straight to my sister, Terra, at the main desk and sat beside her.

“Only those with great intentions can see this book and those chosen by the book will make its desired story… 
but you will never return.”

The historian said that you need to dig treasures near or along the roads, merchants, merchants, oins, robbers, travelers went along them ... you can find a lot of interesting things. We have almost no forests, but many roads. Since the time of the 8th century BC ...

... now I've been living here for 20 years ... and I found a lot of interesting things ...

it seems clear why he stayed here in the village, flashed through my head ...

Here are my findings and he casually showed his hand on the shelf where some old coins were lying in plastic bottles with ...

I found copper coins of Alexander the Great, Chinese coins of the eras of Xia, Sha, Tan, Qing, Han ... and many others, Persian, Turkish, Russian, German, French, 16-19 centuries.

There were ours - gold and silver, copper ... imperial, two empires ...

I found arrowheads, lead bullets, fragments of swords, and even twice ... an almost complete Lewis machine gun. Visibly remained since the 1920s and 30s of the last century.

I found finds in the ruins of old fortresses, caravanserais, abandoned houses on the slopes of the mountains. The finds are different ... from old books written in Arabic, to indications of silver, medals of the tsarist era, World War I ... aluminum spoons, sometimes fragments of sabers, swords ...

In general, this is our story ... I'm not a black digger, so I keep everything for the opening of the Light Mountains Museum of Local Lore. I am collecting history piece by piece, both material and non-material. I preserve the cultural heritage that young people so easily sell to foreigners for a penny. Money is not the main thing ?! Money is only a means, you need to be able to maintain your identity, culture, heritage inherited from the ancestors ...

What is interesting, the Light mountains were at one time part of the Boss empire, then the Tang empire, after which the border of the Arab caliphate ... the Turkic Khaganate passed ... then the border between the kingdom of Small-An and Tsarist Russia ... and then ... the mountains ceased to play any kind of importance ... they became inland ... for now ... once ...

... they were not found in them again ... forgotten mines ... walled up from the 13th century ... gold, silver ... and ... uranium ... then a second life began at the mountains ... until one day found a more convenient deposit in the desert ... and then the mountains forgot again ... only individual diggers, prospectors worked in mountain gorges ...

They remembered the mountains again when they began to think about ecology ... and tourism. These mountains deserve a separate book, encyclopedia, memory ... until now, these mountains remain unexplored until the end ... The "white spot" in history.

But for now, we are studying ... looking, finding!

And then you can get a great museum of local lore! Showing that these mountains have never been on the outskirts of the world, and in all ages actively participated in the trading life of Asia, Europe and Africa ...

Chinese travelers and monks passed through them in the 5th, 6th, 9th, 12th centuries ... they saw Genghis Khan ... maybe Alexander the Great, but not one hundred percent, although legends go about it. But the legends ... they have part of the truth and part of the fiction ...

Some locals pointing to the cave paintings indicate that alien ships landed in the mountains ... and point to strange drawings ... a man in a spacesuit ... although this could be anything ... how to interpret cave paintings ... few know for sure, one hundred percent. One can only guess ...

There is a tree that is at least 1500-2000 years old. Since this tree is considered ancient, and among the locals it is holy, because of their mixing of beliefs to monotheistic ... nobody will allow to explore the tree. One can only speculate ...

There is also an ancient mountain lake with the name "Tangri" .... there are many ancient ruins of fortresses and there ... how many interesting things are hidden underground? !!!!!

It's a pity that you can't use drones ... it would be easier, it's a pity that you can't use metal detectors ... well, I can, I have permission ... but I haven't received any drones yet. I sent a request, I'm already waiting for the second year ...

COMPLETED

The Silk Road ... it is inevitable the emergence of wells, caravanserais, guard fortresses, postal stations, local bazaars, regional bazaars, the emergence of new jobs:
- robbers (there were whole settlements)
- caravan guards
- changed
- merchants

Just about them and will be discussed.


About their life, tricks.

Alas, English is still the same ... there are mistakes, I am sure of it.

I hope over time I will be able to fix them.

I just wanted to share information about such an interesting topic as the history of the development of the Silk Road.

----
And also a series of stories about treasures, treasure hunters.

--------------------------------
This is a work of art. Any resemblance to real people or real events is purely coincidental.

Tinashe was helpless against the tides and was going manic from the fear of death. Everything happened so fast and he didn't really have time to prepare. As he lamented his peril, the mandigo man with adequate swimming skills, got a hold of him and tugged him. Tinashe felt like he had been yanked by something strong, a manly grip that helped him out of a disastrous situation. John flowed with him until they reached a log that was lodged against land and a rock. 




He injected his free hand into the flesh of that log and used it to anchor themselves. John who could now see eye to eye with the distraught Tinashe, began assure him that he was going to be okay. Tinashe realized that this man was protecting him, but still felt stifled by the ordeal. The entire rainfall lasted for over 6 hours until it subsided into drizzle. John took this opportunity to swim towards a location with higher ground. Once, he had done so, the two of them began to talk.




"That was a close one. I am sorry I scared you off. Are you okay?" asked John, who was dragging the young man's body.
"Thank you, shit. I don't want to experience that again." he said, panting and coughing at the same time.
"Yeah. It would have been a shame to lose you so soon. You are the first person I have seen on this damn island." he said as they climbed over a trench like path.
"Yeah, thank you man. I am not much of a swimmer. What's your name, um, sir?" he said, getting the full scope of the man's body. 
"Call me John, and from what I can see from your life bar hovering over you, you're Tinashe Mahando, right?" he said, darting his eyes at the name highlighted on top of his visible life bar. Tinashe also noticed John's bar and then said, "Yeah, that's about right. I can see it, it's pretty crazy that I can see that life bar." 
"Yeah, I initially thought that this was the first stage of hell or something, some diabolical battle royal where 1000 people kill each other before proceeding to the epic finale of weeping and gnashing of teeth. Well, I honestly thought I would be in hell, but I am on a tropical paradise with typhoon like weather conditions reminiscing the movie 'Cast Away' by Tom Hanks. Weird right?" he said, as if engrossed in the art of delivering lines for a scripted monologue.
"Yeah, I have seen Cast Away." said Tinashe, who didn't know what to say about all the hints to hell in John's statement.




"Well Cast Away is a good film, I reckon the writing could have been tighter at certain points in the script. Well, I did find solace in having coconuts with faces all stacked up at my base as an alternative for people, but now that I have found someone, I won't have to participate in the act of mental degeneration." he said, grabbing a hold of a branch as he climbed up.
"You kept coconuts with faces? Um?" he asked, totally bewildered.
"Well don't think too much about it.Anyways how did you get here?" he asked, trying to dissuade him from thinking he was crazy.
"Get here?" he asked, confused by the context of the question.
"Yes here on the island. Tell me what you remember before and after you got here. The devil's in the details so make sure to give me everything." he said, holding him by the shoulder and looking into the boy's eyes. Tinashe told him everything concerning his death due to suicide via euthanasia in his past life and where he woke. John nodded and even had moments where he would stare with much interest. The fixation was so intense that Tinashe began to feel uncomfortable. John then went on to say, "So maybe this could be a purgatory for those who committed suicide with a rather sick twist of all the 1000 facing off against each other."




"What makes you think everyone is supposed to face off, why are you drawing such conclusions?" he asked, worried that he was making dangerous inferences.
"Well think about it logically. If we have bodies that behave and have facets of our progress compartmentalized by stats similar to what you'd find in a role playing game, plus the fact that killing other plays can yield you experience points via the 'Assimilation method' definitely means that leveling up will also have to deal with clashing with others." he said, with a stern look.
"Wait, this is my first time hearing about this how could you possibly know?" he asked, now doubtful of the man's reasoning capacity.
"Well let me show you then." he said, immediately instructing him to do a step by step entry on his custom goal. Tinashe read the information and wondered why he had never even considered searching this before. John noticed the horror in the boy's face and told him, "If this news flash breaks your heart, then you must throw away any ideas about this being a heavenly afterlife because with what that purple demon has said, it's pretty clear that we have to level up, survive the hostile elements like the wildlife, weather and finally other players. This is a survival game but we don't have to all adhere to whatever rules we have been given, that's why I want to form a group, hopefully find reasonable people so that we can survive and resist people who will try to take out others. The only issue is that people are hard to find. I hope you will be a decent person Tinashe."





"Um wow, that's a lot to take in, I am a decent guy. I don't think I have it in me, you know, murder, I don't think I would ever kill someone." he said, as he shivered. 
"Well hopefully you won't have to. I see that you are shivering, I will take you to my hideout. I was initially exploring the other side of island, hoping to find others and acquaint myself with nature until I got caught in the rain. I figured that it would be better to hide in a cave rather under a tree when I noticed the water levels rising. I am pretty sure I gave you quite the scare when I came in unannounced, so anyways I will treat you to something I learned recently from much experimentation. You look fairly young, do you drink?" he asked, interested in his response.
"Well, I wish I had before I had killed myself." he said, barely delivering his words due to his intense shiver.
"Well your virgin lips will surely learn the taste of alcohol in the afterlife. A pleasant catharsis awaits you ahead." he said, with a grin on his face. The two of them trotted in the muddy terrain as the winds were blowing and giving a ghastly eolowin tone that rustled the leaves and trees. The journey towards John's cave would take just under an hour and for some reason, the monkeys they came across, with their purple drenched thick fur, were subdued and didn't attack them. They seemed excited by John's presence and John even reassured Tinashe to stay calm. Tinashe remembered being clobbered by a monkey recently and nearly died, but these creatures seemed excited with a rather reverent attitude. He was beginning to feel safer in the arms of this man and hoped that he would help him out with all the questions he could not answer for himself, regarding the world of Goshem. 




John's cave looked remarkable and modern. It was lit by many of the night bugs and the walls were painted with some liquid that glowed in the dark. He had several custom made pillows, made using some animal's wool and some leather from an animal he slaughtered. Everything was stitched together using thin vines and silk from silkworms that were boiled in a clay pot after they had finished pupating. John seemed rather knowledgeable in the arts and crafts department and also made a contraption that looked like a stove made from some weird alloy and strung together with wood. He had a huge clay container that resembled a cooler box which contained fruits that had been fermented for 4 days. John handed Tinashe the wool made blanket and pillows to lie on.





 Tinashe obliged and reclined on the pillows. Sleeping on this was a real treat compared to lying on the rugged terrain. Tinashe glanced at him and before he could ask how he managed to pull all this off, John said, "You wish to know how I am this resourceful? Well before I became a famous novelist and writer who wore many hats, I used to be part of Do It Yourself styled show that involved crafting things based email requests. Relying on mostly the internet and specialized assistance from professionals, I got really useful skills."
"Wait you were a famous novelist? What books did you write?" he asked, astounded by this revelation.
"The player follows, the philanderer, The Eternal dragon of the litRPG, Sewn to perfection and my magnum opus, the artist's woe. That was the only book that I got critical praise for and it was the highlight of my career." he said, pouring the fermented fruit juice into clay tumblers.
"Wow! That's amazing, you were an established writer. Well to be honest, I was mostly into non-fiction and historical books, I never really found story books interesting." he said, as he snuggled into the pillows.




"Not even the classics like Dickens, Mark Twain, Oscar Wilde or George Orwell?" he asked, astonished by his lack of interest in literary fiction.
"Well, my dad and mom mostly encouraged me to reader factual books and stuff. So I was really interested in learning different cultures, their history, ethnicities and why they behaved a certain way. I think knowing more about your initial environment and opening your mind to how other societies coped with everything in the world fascinated me more than fictional stuff." he said, with a rather romanticized expression.
"A noble answer indeed, so what were you planning on becoming then, with your interests?" he asked as he handed him a cup of alcohol.





"Well, I think I would aim to be a Vice correspondent. You know Vice right, the journalist organisation that covers various issues and uncovers truths that mainstream media would rather not show because of political biases. I wanted to shed light on things." he said with a passionate look.
"Hmm, that sounds like a rather dangerous field but at the same time an interesting one. Travelling around the world, going to conflict zones and debunking the bullshit that major news networks try to feed the masses. That's interesting, but why would someone who wanted to pursue such a career terminate their life?" he asked, almost confused by why Tinashe had opted for suicide despite his ambitions.




"Well, I guess I wasn't strong enough to handle verbal abuse and bullying at school. I was quite the unique cookie and didn't follow the crowd. That made me popular for the wrong reasons and I was harassed alone. I wasn't used to the world being against me so I caved in to the pressure." he said, with a morose look as he drank the alcohol. The alcohol tasted sweet instead of sour and Tinashe wondered why his expectations were betrayed. Tinashe then asked him, "You seem like you were a celebrity or something in your past life, why did you commit suicide if you so much success?"
"Well brace yourself, I have got quite the tale to tell." he said, immediately drinking 3 shots as soon as he was done.

A young man struggles with unemployment, failed dreams and overall becoming a useless member in society and decides to kill himself. Upon seeking this method of death, he encounters a being from the alternative realm who gives him an option of starting his life over from scratch, from level 1 on his planet. This gives him the chance to finally carve out a path for himself that he could never do on earth.




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If you enjoy the book, please do leave a book review or comment. I will try my best to respond to all of them so please do. It helps me out. Also, the paperback version of this novel will be available soon so if you want hardcopies, it will be available on Amazon.com

"THERE'S SO MANY people out and about town!" Alice gasped, turning her head to follow a little boy that was holding onto a candied apple that had rushed past her.

"Yes," Wyatt beamed, his eyes pressed closed due to his smile, crinkling at the corners. "It's always rather busy in the capital of Gladiolum." 

A day after the ball, Wyatt had suggested bringing Alice around the town square to soak in the sights. He personally had to do a little shopping and thought that it would be a wonderful chance for Alice to grow more familiar with the capital. She had been living with the Ragans for nearly two weeks and yet she had barely even stepped out of the mansion's walls. It was best for young ladies to enjoy their time around town with friends. Being constantly cooped up in the study room with Charlie wasn't exactly an ideal situation in Wyatt's opinion. Of course, not that Alice had ever complained.

Strolling through the cobbled streets, Wyatt pointed out some of his personal favorite shops along the way. They passed by boutiques selling beautiful ball gowns, stores selling sparkling jewels, and even quaint little cafes that wafted out the sugary sweet scent of freshly baked pastries. However, while Alice acted as though she was very interested in those, he could tell that was all it was. An act. She simply smiled and nodded to Wyatt's words, not once asking to step into any of those stores like he had expected. Yet again she had him colored surprised.

Just the thought brought a curving smile onto his lips. The girl that his family had chanced upon was most certainly different from the rest of the girls in the capital. She stood out in such a way that there wasn't any spare place for the others to shine. She was the lone star now, a happy and proud resident of the Ragan household. While still suspicious of her origins, Wyatt couldn't help but admit to himself that he was growing fond of Alice Clemente.

"Are you not interested in any of the shops I pointed out?" He prodded. "Those are all famous names here in the capital."

"Oh!" Alice exclaimed. Wyatt watched with his practiced smile as the girl's eyes widened delightfully, eyelashes fluttering like a pair of butterfly wings under the golden sunlight. Her lips parted just a little in surprise before she quickly gathered back her wits, shaking her head politely. "They are all wonderful shops. I just… I don't have any money to buy all those things. Looking through the store window is more than enough."

For years Wyatt had worn the same smile on his face. It was his perfectly crafted mask made to shield his true emotions from the rest of the nobles. No matter what he felt inside, a smile was always the answer to dealing with those that had to be schemed against. However, every time Alice spoke or made one of her silly little expressions, he found his smiles to turn true as day.

"Let us go into that one, then." Wyatt pointed to a little bookshop down the street, a corner store with a gleaming bronze sign. "There are some things I wish to purchase."

Alice nodded. "Alright," she said.

Although her expression remained as still as possible, Wyatt still caught the slight twitch of her lips. The sparkles in her eyes practically screamed of her excitement. She couldn't fool anyone. Even the blind could tell that she was particularly eager to enter the bookshop. 

The little bell that hung above the door rang when Wyatt entered the shop. Inside, there were no other customers, simply a store clerk that had a book in hand. A pair of round spectacles rested on his crooked nose bridge, his eyes scanning the words at an immense speed before he licked his finger and flipped to the next page. At the call of the bell, the clerk looked up from his book, squinting at the door before rising to his feet. The book was placed pages-down onto the counter, a smile upon his lips.

"Master Wyatt!" The old clerk greeted enthusiastically. "I was wondering when you'll be visiting next. The books you ordered two weeks back are finally here." 

"Greetings," Wyatt replied fairly. "And thank you so much for your help with those. It's nearly impossible to find them anywhere else."

The old man waved, his cheeks reddening just a little. "It's no problem. Let me go get them for you." Shuffling towards the back of the shop, the clerk disappeared behind a dividing curtain.

"Do you come here often?" Alice asked, looking around the small bookstore with great interest. At random, she pulled out one of the books from the shelves, her fingers tracing the title of the book on the cover, feeling the indented words on the hard leather.

'History of Gladiolum. Volume III,' it read. Alice had seen a similar history book in Charlie's study room before. Making a mental note to briefly read through the contents of the book, she slotted the book back to its original position.

"Hmm, I wonder." Tapping a finger to his chin, Wyatt looked deep in thought. "I guess I do visit this store a little more than the average folk. They sell writing supplies as well as books and I run out of the former a little too often. Besides, this store is the only one in the capital that can procure rare and often out-of-print."

Walking a little further into the shop, Alice glanced through the assortment of reading materials offered. They had both fiction and non-fiction books in the store, leaning closer to non-fiction books. Most books were new copies, their covers still brightly colored while others were much older and encased in glass covers. Those books seemed old and tattered but the words were still in dark black ink, most likely having been re-written over so that it wouldn't be lost to time. 

The one that had caught Alice's attention was a purple leather-bound book that was almost as thick as a dictionary. The title of this book was written in bright, glittery gold in thick block letters. A small sign that indicated the price of the old tome was placed beside the book. Alice's eyes widened at the number of zeros, her head reeling back a little in surprise. She still wasn't sure about how the currency worked in Gladiolum but with so many zeros, the book was bound to be expensive no matter the exchange rate.

'The Theory of Magic. Volume I,' the title wrote.

"Are you interested in that one? Ooh, that's a pricey one." Wyatt's voice was right by Alice's ear, causing her to jump a little, her ears tingling from his breath. Stepping away, she held both hands to her chest, staring wide-eyed at Wyatt who looked as amused as ever.

"Just looking," she answered before firing back a question of her own. "How much is that book? I don't really know how the currency works here."

"See that symbol over there?" Wyatt gestured to the symbol behind the number as he spoke. "That's the symbol for our currency, 'fleuron'. That's the larger of the two units that we have in our country's currency. The smaller unit is known as a 'flois'. Ten flois equates to one fleuron. To give you an example of its value, five flois can buy you a piece of stale bread at the end of the day in the capital's cheapest bakery, maybe? Books, on the other hand, are usually five to ten fleurons, if it's a common title that can be easily found."

Alice gulped. Judging by the examples Wyatt provided, the currency here in Gladiolum seemed similar to the system she was used to. A single fleuron held as much value as a dollar back home and a flois would be around ten cents. Her hands were starting to feel clammy as she stared hard at the price tag of The Theory of Magic. 

"And yet this book is…" she trailed off.

"Fifteen thousand fleurons," Wyatt finished the sentence for her chirpily.

Fifteen thousand dollars.

Taking another step back, Alice no longer dared to hover near the expensive article. If anything had happened to it, she wouldn't be able to pay the store back for the damages incurred. She had never seen a book as expensive or even half as pricey. 

"Why is this book so… so…"

"Ridiculously priced?" Wyatt supplied. When Alice nodded numbly, Wyatt chuckled. "This is an ancient tome about magic. There are only five copies of this book that was ever produced. But if you're really interested in this book, there's no need for you to fork out such a hefty amount just to read it. We have a copy of it back in the mansion's library."

Flabbergasted and speechless, Alice blinked dumbly at what Wyatt had so casually revealed. Although she long knew that the Ragan mansion was a sprawling estate with many different needlessly fanciful rooms, she hadn't even thought to think that it might house precious artifacts within its walls. 

In Gladiolum, it seemed as though the gap between its people was wider than the ocean. The rich lived in heaven while the poor couldn't even afford hell.

"Why don't you take a look around the bookshop and see if there's anything that catches your eye?" Wyatt offered. "If we don't already have the book back home, I don't mind making a few extra purchases. It's the least I can do for dragging you out here with me on such a warm afternoon."

Alice's heart skipped a beat. She braved a step closer, momentarily forgetting about the book in the glass display case. Cupping her hands together as if they were in prayer, Alice beamed.

"Really? Any book?"

Wyatt's smile didn't falter. "There's no budget, if that's what you're asking."

Alice wasted no time. Her feet went scurrying across the dark wooden boards of the store, quickly scouring the bookshelves in search of any title that might help her or catch her fancy. Her fingers ran down the spines, quickly pulling out a few covers that had caught her attention, some fiction and some not. She had a feeling that most, if not all, of the non-fiction books were already available in the Ragans' library but there was no harm in bringing the books over for Wyatt to look through. These books will become her survival guide in this foreign world.

As the store clerk returned to the front counter, Wyatt slowly made his way over. However, he was still gazing in Alice's way, watching silently and bemused as the girl darted from shelf to shelf, climbing ladders and bending low in search of more. There were already over seven books in her hands and she only ever added more to the collection.

"My," the old clerk exclaimed. "I've not seen anyone so frantic for a good title since you first came to my humble store years ago. The old ladies at the bakery next block over will go mad once they hear that the young Master Wyatt is no longer single."

The white-haired man chuckled. "She's just a curious little bird my brother picked up a while back."

The old man shrugged, unconvinced, but he didn't say a word more on that topic. With a heavy thump, he placed three thick books onto the counter, the covers in the three primary colors. The titles were all written in gold, large block letters.

"This set was a little trickier to find as compared to your other requests but there you go. Though, Master Wyatt, don't mind this old man prying but are you sure you want to dabble in this subject? There's always a price to pay when you go against the laws of science."

"I can pay whatever price the world throws at me," Wyatt casually remarked. Picking up one of the books carefully with a gloved hand, he examined the old cover, grinning with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm just completing my collection. With these, the set will now be complete. There's no need to worry, sir."

"Oh well," the old clerk sighed, pursing his lips. "If you're sure, youngin. Let me wrap these up for you."

Tottering away, the elderly went to retrieve a few sheets of brown wrapping paper and some strings to bundle up Wyatt's purchases while waiting for Alice. 

Partially leaning on the counter, Wyatt continued to observe Alice. She no longer had the strength to carry the books she had picked out. Instead, she placed most of them on an empty table by one side. The stack of books was almost taller than she was and yet she continued to hunt for more, her eyes practically dripping with avarice.

'How peculiar,' Wyatt thought to himself. 'She is unaffected by fanciful dresses or glittering jewels and yet dusty old books can bring her into a craze. What an odd woman. She is most certainly a woman before her time.'

❝I want you to visit me even if it's only in your dreams.❞ 

Gifted a candle that was said to be able to make wishes come true, Alice Clemente burned it that very night only to find herself in an unknown world the next morning. 

She had wished for a life of adventure away from the city and its routine. With her wish granted, she was whisked away to a world very different from the one she grew up in. 

Thrust into a new life, would Alice learn how to adapt? Or would she fall down the rabbit hole only to never surface again?

Aura thought that everyone's dismissal of the game's lore strange.

Yeah sure it was just a game, but most fantasy games had at least some sort of lore that wasn't just information on the monsters or skill usage and techniques.

There were some who pursued the hidden lore and lost histories in Ascendance, but no organizations, no guilds, there wasn't even a proper library for history.

Most libraries in Ascendance just contained info on areas, monsters, items and more info.

Only a kingdom's royal library contained anything history related, and that was at most diaries of famous individuals from the past.

The only other place one could find history was in the various churches scattered across the land, and again, they only had diaries or accounts of myths.

Otherwise, history was passed on orally.

If you consider the fact that any written account of the era would one day simply disappear, it did make a little sense that nobody bothered, but that information could still last for thousands of years.

It didn't help that Forgotten Industries had publicly stated that the game was more to help people have fun and blow off steam than it was to have players explore the fascinating history of a fantasy world.

Not to mention that if one wanted interesting stories, there were plenty of fiction books in the bookstores you could find in every city in the entire realm.

To put things simply, the only books you could find in the entire game were works of fiction, encyclopedias, and diaries.

There were also the research documents that you could find in the personal stashes of mages and other magically inclined individuals, but those were mostly factored under the 'diary' section.

Even the book that documented the travels and studies of godhood that Aura had found was little more than an encyclopedia with specialized knowledge bordering on a diary of the author's personal researches.

Admittedly, a great amount of historical information could be gleaned from the categories of books stated above, but it wasn't something an individual could parse out.

Which was why only large guilds even bothered searching for tidbits of useful knowledge in libraries.

It was way easier just to ask an elf, or some other long lived species.

Even a high leveled human would know more about history than the books.

This could be considered as another reason why history wasn't written down, but this was obviously a bad idea.

High leveled individuals had a tendency to be weirdos.

Long lived species tended to isolate themselves and distrust outsiders.

If you asked the former about history, there was no guarantee you wouldn't just be told a bunch of random bullshit designed to see how much you would believe.

If you asked the latter, you were likely to be given a polite 'fuck off' and then not get an answer at all.

This was probably best described as brilliant world design.

Weirdos lived forever (which probably explained why the gods all had strange personalities), and those who did live long lives and weren't completely insane were loners.

There were exceptions, but for the most part, humans were completely ignorant of the world they lived in.

There were also a ton of them.

The only reason humans had survived for any length of time in the world of Ascendance was almost certainly due to the fact that most monsters preferred to stay away from areas with high concentrations of life energy.

And since humans were brimming with life, they were avoided by monsters.

Lucky them.

---

Aura had just finished dismantling the last of the traps, and was quite literally jumping with joy.

He had been bored out of his mind due to the monotony of his task, and had only pushed through because of the light at the end of the road.

A kingdom core, the perfect thing for someone like him, who ruled absolutely nothing, and instead was more interested in exploration and the creation of interesting items.

Only one item he planned to make would require the core, as it just didn't have much use to him.

So what if he could make small changes to large areas at once, he didn't even have a large area to change in the first place.

But he had thought of making a beautiful item that would allow total control over a massive domain, and as such he was bound by his own obsessions to make it.

Aura Thompson, one of the most unknown experts in the DMMORPG known as Ascendance, dies of old age, only to find that his final wish has been granted and that he can start again on his path to immortality through the fantasy game he loves.

Read as Aura uses his knowledge of mankind's second world to chase after his dream.

He knows all the secrets that players uncovered over the 132 years he played the game: quests, classes, skills, hidden treasures, lore, and all sorts of things that could tip the balance of the world in his favor.

How far will he go?

My northern army was the fastest to set out. Adrian CMXXVIII already had authority over the population, so despite their power now being a rival to hers they were still obedient. It would get more difficult for her if any decided to test that authority. She was more competent for the moment, they were all inexperienced and didn't know how to utilize their power yet, but that would change. My backing was also a significant factor in her authority, but I wouldn't stop challenges in private.

For the moment, though, her army was the first out of Adrian. Her formation was orderly, being led by hound and human scouts followed by the majority of the army with the ogres in the rear. Everyone was getting along fine, except for Adrian CMXXVIII. I still caught her looking back into the army with rage in her will as she saw the humans getting along fine with the food goblins and other inhuman creatures. She seemed not to notice that her own orders had ensured the integration. She gave duties according to capability, regardless of race, making them interact with each other. Given their common worship of me, they all had enough to build at least basic rapport with each other.

The only other times she looked back were when she wanted to stare in fear and horror at the brood constructs in the middle of her formation for a while. She still tried to force herself to be uncomfortable seeing males of each race but food goblins walking with tentacles of brood construct harvesting from them constantly as they marched. She only succeeded in being uncomfortable looking at the female food goblins, but even that would fade with time. They were mine. How could something that belonged to me be disgusted by something else I owned?

Her constant self-reminder of how disgusting my influence was on her population was a necessity for her to maintain her self-destructive pattern. The fact that her efforts were getting emptier with every repetition didn't seem to register to her. Simply looking and calling it disgusting and horrific while being utterly indifferent was all she was doing by the time the first day of marching was over. The ogres didn't need to sleep as much, as they were all third composites by now, but the humans would catch up fairly soon. The lord template was good at mitigating rest deficiency, even better than the ogres were. The ogres were only better because they were fourth class while the lord template was only third. Had the humans put in appropriate effort, they could even come close to matching the ogres with correct usage of their active circuits.

The next day she'd realized that her self-reminder was no long effective and tried to look for other targets. To her disgruntlement, she couldn't see any of her people suffering. Many were friendly with the monsters they now called brothers in faith. She tried remembering the broken bodies of her people during my invasion, but she wasn't an overly compassionate person. Every time she tried, she remembered the corpses she'd left in her own wake. Her rebellion hadn't been a peaceful shift in dynasty, the only difference between her rebellion and my invasion was the scale and the result. I'd killed more, but the population was more satisfied under me than it had been under her. They were more powerful. None died of hunger due to the cruelty of Grace and her family. None were cheated of anything, all resources were allocated due to my will and nobody was dissatisfied with it but her.

She was still resisting her loyalty, despite the impossibility of it achieving what she wanted it to, but she was being forced to admit that it was resistance due to pride and rage rather than any form of justice or seeking benefit for others. She'd known she was a selfish person, but the sharp variance between herself and her population was shoving it right in her face.

After accepting that fact, her internal struggle became a lot safer for her. She wasn't deceiving herself on either side. She knew her loyalty to me was due to my meddling, and she accepted that the only reason she was refusing to submit was her own pride and arrogance as a lord. It was a pure struggle between parts of herself. She still wouldn't last a week, but at least there was a much lower chance of self-destruction now. One side would win and she'd accept it as an honest loss. Of course, her pride was incapable of separating the pieces of her will-core that were orbiting mine, so she was doomed to failure. The struggle was valuable, though.

As I'd thought, it wasn't even four days out of Adrian before she lost the will to fight and finally succumbed to my influence. As she did, though, something interesting happened. She formed a second will-core as Angie had. Now that I had two points of data, I could find a pattern. Or several. I didn't have anywhere near as much information as I needed to know what the cause was.

I could understand the effect, though. I watched it happen in real time, observing all of the nearby worshippers carefully. In both the cluster that surrounded my will-core and their bodies. The effects were simultaneous. Around my will-core, the non-consolidated fragments were shoved away from the new will-core. In that same moment, the humans near her felt suppression. It still didn't answer why they felt suppression from my constructs, but I knew that they could somehow feel that their connection to me was lacking in comparison to hers. That wasn't entirely right…they could feel that her status as a worshipper vastly outstripped their own.

Testing another idea, I built the same will circuit into the new core of Adrian CMXXVIII. Her power skyrocketed to heights she probably wouldn't have been able to imagine before, but none of the surrounding people had noticed. So her power wasn't why people had been suppressed by Angie. I had been a little worried that humans had some means of sensing the power of other creatures that went unnoticed by their conscious mind. If it existed, infiltration would be more difficult but it would explain their fear of my constructs.

Well, on the plus side, Adrian CMXXVIII wouldn't have trouble with a backlash against her orders anymore. Since her suppressive force was based on the state of her shards around my will-core it wouldn't matter if there were those within her army that outstripped her in power or technique.

Thinking back, Adrian CMXXVIII had revealed deep embarrassment and rage when I announced her leading my northern campaign. I didn't care enough to address it while we were preparing the army, but now that it was simply marching the issue was becoming irksome. The state of her mind was important to me, as she was the source of inspiration for self-destructive will expansion. Maybe if I understood her more, I could give her an even better method than I'd already started using to advance will. "Why did you dislike my appointment of your leadership?"

She jumped so hard a horse she was petting grunted and almost knocked the wagon it was pulling over. After calming down again she looked around, looking for a target she could associate with me. Eventually she just gave up and started marching again. The pleasure in her will was apparent, though. "I didn't dislike the appointment. The choice of having me lead an army made sense. I would think having someone who hates you leading one of your armies is a bad choice, but you trust that magic. As do I." That didn't answer my question at all. "I disliked you doing so with so little respect. There is only one Adrian and there has only ever been one Adrian, and I was conquered. Thoroughly. So thoroughly." She cleared her throat, her face flushing. "Ahem, only historians or the ancient would know that I wasn't the only ruler Adrian ever had, let alone announce it to the public so brazenly." She gasped suddenly, horror and shock flooding her will. "I don't mind it anymore, my God! A conqueror has the right to flaunt his supremacy over the conquered. If you desire my humiliation it is my greatest duty, privilege, and pleasure to oblige!" Judging from her will, duty and privilege were incidentally linked to pleasure in that instance.

Ah. That made sense. Adrian had probably been the lord for longer than any civilians had been alive. She also called Celius and Agatha without mentioning their sequence. Maybe it was rude. Niceties weren't the type of thing to make it into books. The content was there, especially in novels and other fiction, but it was accepted as normal. The connection of only addressing the lord by the name of the city without reference to their sequence was only contextualized with recognition that there had been a sequence. The lords in fiction were always immortal beings that always survived or were destroyed with their evil city along with them. Always seen as the first and last. "If you were conquered, what's your name? Your name, not your old position."

Adrian CMXXVIII went stiff for a moment before blushing profusely. I wasn't sure why she was embarrassed and happy, but she was. I delved a bit deeper and saw that it was due to her details being asked for instead of taken. It proved to her that I cared more about her divulging the information than I cared about the information itself. In her mind, at least. "Samantha. Before I was Adrian I was Samantha. Guess I am again, now. Your conquered Samantha." She glanced backwards, euphoria filling her will. She didn't say anything, but the gratitude she had toward Adrian and the events that happened there that allowed her to be conquered by me were clouding her will-core. "Was there anything else you wished of me, my God?"

I didn't answer as I knew a soldier was running up to her. "Commander! We've spotted something different. It's an army of humans…but not humans." The soldier was very confused, but I wasn't. It was an army commanded by necromancers. Most of the leaders were non-necromancer humans, though. The rank and file was made of monster forces as well as golems. That much the soldier understood. What he didn't understand was how the non-necromancer humans could be called humans, as they were clearly different from humans while also looking so similar it was hard to see them as anything else. Samantha readied her forces for battle as the beasts of burden in her army started advancing in class.

My consciousness started in a singular moment.
"I created life! I am a genius! Genius! Slave, tell me how marvelous my genius is!"
So started my life. Created by a moron who thought himself a god. Unfortunately for him, reality has a way of showing you what you really are. Maybe it will show me too. Eventually.

Fascinated by the rich history and culture of this new world she had entered Kayla decided that she would spend the entire night immersed in the Link's world to learn as much as possible, so that she wouldn't feel completely useless and uneducated when she eventually went out to experience the world.

Time passes quickly when you are doing something that you find fascinating, and in this way the entire night passed and when her father walked in the next morning she was still frantically scrolling through innumerable fiction and non-fiction texts. Kayla had discovered that all the stories in this world were much more interesting than in her previous one, especially the ones concerning Sen and Ma, who where now prominent figures in her mind.

He coughed lightly and Kayla allowed her Link to fall softly into her palm. Unaware of how long she had spent in the Link's world she just smiled brightly at her Father, instead of feeling exhausted and drained she felt reinvigorated as if she had just slept for 24 hours straight.

With a slightly amused but sorrowful look in his eye, as if he had guessed what she had been doing all this time, he placed the book from the previous night in front of her and gently turned the first page. This is was the technique that could make or break her life here in Senma, would her incompatibility with the arms decrease if she adhered to this technique or would it not help her at all?

Determined to succeed and motivated after reading so many books she dove straight into the text. 

The first page was a shortened version of the main legend regarding Sen and Ma and briefly gave one insight into how the world came to be, this was presumably to humble those that read the book, in the face of overwhelming power who wouldn't be shook to the core. As she began to look up to alert her Father to the fact that she had finished her first bit of reading the insect-bird flew over and using its tiny claws, delicately turned the page.

The first chapter was titled: Smith's Spirit. To her surprise it wasn't as wordy as she had expected, with tiny diagrams and notes dotted all over the pages. Quietly masking her surprise she carefully read the first paragraph.

It was clearly written by someone who regarded themselves as an expert in the subject because each word was written with precision and absolute faith. It explained how each piece of metal that had been forged and tempered by a Smith would gain spirit essence, although this was similar to magic it should not be confused with it. 

Magic was generating power by controlling the elements that exist around a person and abiding by certain laws, but the Spirit of a Smith was something completely different. When a Smith was forging a tool he put a remnant of his life force into creating it and this is what the Smith Spirit was; a life force remnant. 

A lot of people had very weak spirits and consequently were not able to forge powerful tools consecutively and had to rest in between forgings to recuperate. However those with exponentially strong spirits did not need to rest at all, and in some myths people could forge for eternity without rest.

There were even some records of people with exceptionally strong spirits that did not even need to learn techniques for forging tools and instead, guided by intuition and the will of the heavens they could forge tools that were of extremely high quality.

There were many herbs, mysterious spells and techniques that could be used to nourish ones spirit but they are quite rare and such spells would affect the Magicians vitality enormously. Consequently the strength of someones spirit was pretty much decided at birth and therefore the amount of high level Smiths was rapidly declining.

The stronger spirit you had, the higher affinity you would have with tools and your compatibility when using them would be significantly higher than any warrior.

This explanation inevitably lead Kayla to the conclusion that she had an extremely weak spirit, so weak in fact that even though the arms were physically an extension of her body she couldn't move them at all.

Wanting to share her thoughts with her Father she looked up to see him immersed in a strange task.

He was sitting at her small desk and his arms were outstretched in front of him with a small piece of metal was floating in between his palms. It seemed to be slightly moving each time he changed the position of his hand, it was beginning to form a different shape. However the process seemed excruciatingly slow and each hand formation lead to another drop of sweat emerging on his brow.

Looking down at the diagrams in the book before her the only thought that rushed through her mind was: could this possibly be Smithing?

Unwilling to allow her first experience of one of the mysterious arts she had yet to learn much about go to waste, she swung her legs out of the bed and unsteadily took her very first steps in this world. Although she wasn't able to lift her arms resulting in them feeling, mentally, very heavy, they weren't actually much of a burden when she stood up, she just couldn't move them at all. She carefully walked over to her Father.

However, the Gods could not have predicted what happened next.

As she came within a certain distance of the metal she felt a small tug on her mind, as if her very spirit wished to reach out and grasp it, that it believed the Smithing method being performed was unable to bring out the metals full potential.

Suddenly, it was as if a mysterious power within her suddenly burst forth, her eyes turned completely silver as they had when she was in the darkness and when she first tried the Link. It changed her presence completely as if she had been possessed by some unfathomably wise spirit. 

The silver energy flowed into her arms, the mysterious glow they emitted intensified many times over and her body lifted her arms up as easily as if they were her own flesh and blood. She reached her arms around her Father and placed her hands either side of his, with the piece of metal still in the middle.

Her hands began to dance to a mysterious unsung rhythm, shifting and shaping the metal, silver dots similar to those that she experienced in the darkness floated out of her fingertips, infusing with the metal and giving it strength and power far beyond her imagination. Without her realising, her Father's hands had dropped away and he sat there, silent and in shock. What was going on?

When the final hand formation was completed the metal slowly drifted down onto the desk, it was no longer just an insignificant lump, it now resembled the insect-bird machines that were very popular in this world. Nevertheless it seemed to posses a great, unyielding power, as if it was a special artefact.

As her Father turned around to look at Kayla to ask her exactly what was going on, the silver light in her eyes extinguished and they returned to an ordinary grey-blue. She blinked once as if she had come out of a trance and her arms dropped back to her sides, back to being useless, before she ungracefully fell to the floor and lost consciousness.

When Kayla finds herself reincarnated in an alternate universe she expects glory and immense power to be easily within her grasp, however she is severely crippled and cannot control the energy that circulates through her body. Angry and frustrated she decides that instead of being a warrior she will strive to master a different occupation and become famous anyway.

Although she has a few tricks up her sleeve, when she meets a mysterious boy whose strength is far beyond her comprehension she realises that she will have to settle with being the second lead this time after all.

Some argue that various works by authors that do not meet the requirement of fine grammar and spelling are rubbish. Here, each person has his own opinion, and let him stick to it and impose his opinion on others as the ultimate truth, it speaks only of ignorance of life. It is diverse.

Is the work of authors with poor grammar garbage? In my opinion, no. Each author tells his story, passed through his worldview, attitude, understanding of life, his experience and thoughts about the world. It's always interesting for me to read this personally.

I'm a bibliophile, I read a lot of classic works of art, Tomass and Gernih Mana, Feuchtwanger, Mark Twain, Stvenson, Romain Roland, Galsworthy, Tolstoy and all his volumes and there are about 19 of them! I didn't read Dostoevsky, I didn't like him. But Azek Azimov, Ursuda Le Guin, Tolkien, Kipling, Conandoyle, Louis Besenar and others I read with pleasure. Li Bo, the poetry is gorgeous. Novels of feudal and late feudal China, Japan, Korea. Novels and novels by Chinese prose writers of the early 20s and 80-90s of the 20th century.

In general, I read about 10,000 books. Fiction, fantasy, poetry, historical novels, ballads, myths and legends.

After that I became interested in reading historical documentaries - about the history of the Silk Road, Archeology, History, Ethnography, Etymology, the Big Game, the story of the confrontation of imperial intelligence in the vast regions of the Silk Road.

I read about 550 books, from the 16th to the beginning of the 21st century.

I have some kind of base for evaluating short stories and novels.

Sometimes works written flawlessly in terms of grammar, alas ... they are completely devoid of meaning, they are not interesting, they do not have fascinating stories, conclusions, experience, thoughts. But work with poor grammar, on the contrary, have unique information. Of course, not all works, but there are some.

Therefore, when assessing the creativity of another person, the author, being so categorical in evaluations, says only that you have a maximalist who still knows life poorly. This is the right of choice, each person, and to impose a choice on another according to my preferences, I consider this not comme il faut. Well, here everyone has a point of view.

In fact, this is an eternal question - what is more important? Beautiful text form or good content? Bestsellers are those works that combine good text and good content.

I am the author myself. But not a professional writer, but a techie. I don't know much about composition, about the intricacies of writing good text. But I have a very interesting content. Is my story garbage? I do not think so? Do I respect the reader? Sure. But writing is better so far I can't. Nevertheless, I have my own circle - readers who are interested in my work. There are not hundreds or thousands of people, but a couple of dozen will be typed.

I write in the genre - a documentary historical fiction, there are many interesting facts about the Silk Road with which I wanted to share. If I were waiting for the moment when I could write well in terms of English grammar ... I would not be able to share it now ... maybe in a couple of years ... and still I would not be able to write like this they write - people from English-speaking countries. This is a favorite topic of native speakers to reproach those who learn this language in their ignorance of the intricacies of the language they learn, grammar and spelling errors ... As we say, the dog barks, the caravan goes on. That happens.

English is the world language of communication. Moreover, for me it is the third language. I speak English well, but my grammar is lame. I admit it. Yes, I need to teach her, but I don't think I can write in perfect English.

The overall result - write as you can, share your thoughts, in the era of information, the content itself is important and not its form. One way or another, it can help others, they can come to a new thought and write a story about your topic that you would like to read yourself!


As they say in the East - do good and throw it into the water, a person will not know, the fish will know!

Peace and prosperity!

Thoughts of why and why stories are written.

All the same English, he has not improved in 18 days.

I'll figure something out, try to correct the text.

---------------------------------------------------------
This is a work of art. Any resemblance to real people or real events is purely coincidental.

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