Book 3: Chapter 3: Reflection

Book 3: Chapter 3: Reflection

Money is arguably one of human civilization's most impactful inventions. Born from human necessity, it quickly permeated every corner of the known world, being adopted by almost every race in Gesthe. Money fuels trade, serving as the cornerstone of prosperity and progress. Truly, its evolution is fascinating, from the initial exchange of rare shells to the minting of copper, bronze, silver, and gold coins.

Yet, it is the Shareholder Houses of Al-Lazar that have truly revolutionized the concept. They ingeniously adopted mere paper scraps as a representation of value for easier trade. What makes this system striking is its straightforwardness. These notes can be exchanged for gold or other precious metals at the city’s treasury, establishing a mechanism rooted almost entirely in trust and upheld by the city's vast resources.

Termed as "promissory notes," their popularity is surging among cities that engage in trade with Al-Lazar.

- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.

Stroke for stroke, counter, parry, strike, and slash. It was my very mirror. Its very existence was a problem, a test and a divine ordeal. At its very essence, it posed the quandary - how does one defeat oneself? Like many things in life, the solution was simple, yet the execution was far from it. A simple answer to a simple problem. You just had to be the better version of yourself.

“A small hint for you, child of mortals. It will not be through violence, nor through magical might, that this Test is overcome,” declared the goddess imperiously, floating upon high.

Our blades met again, locking clumsily, and we were both off-balance from having put too much power into our blows. She shrugged casually as she moved through the shadows and flickering darkness. “Never did you mortals learn to listen,” she sighed exasperatedly.

Distracted, a slow parry on my part caused a small shock of pain as the metal of my enemy’s weapon smashed against my upper arm. It was a good thing that my Health was so high, as the force of the blow, I am sure, would have been debilitating, armored or not. Instead, an abstract ten points were subtracted from my Health pool. Angrily, I replied in kind, striking at its knee-joint, causing it to lose its balance and crash to the ground. However, my follow-up blow failed to end things. My mirror dodged the descending blade, rolling away.L1tLagoon witnessed the first publication of this chapter on Ñøv€l--B1n.

We were not equal after all. This thing, for all of its mimicry, fought like a machine. There was no anger behind its blows, just cold, calculated reaction. I switched grips with my weapon, holding it like a hammer now to better deal with an armored opponent. My mirror did likewise, and I smiled beneath my helm. As there was no emotion, so too there was no true thought behind its actions, no real plan. It was only reacting.

I almost laughed at the bitter irony. This Gilgamesh-thing was indeed a perfect mirror of myself. My old self, that was. The old me that could do nothing more than to react to circumstance, that never thought of tomorrow. Always dealing with one problem without thinking about the next. The old me was weak. The old me was dead, dead from exposure, sliced from navel to neck in the arena, or crushed under the very earth itself.

Our strikes became less elegant, but more punishing. We dealt ringing blows against each other that dented our thick armor. The underground temple to the Mother of Monsters sounded like a blacksmith’s forge as we beat each other into shape. As we fought, it was like I was being made anew. Being nearly my equal made it the perfect sparring partner.

You have gained 1 Dexterity.

You have gained the Mark of the Adapting Helix.

You have learned Frenzied Strikes (lvl.1).

You have learned Swords (lvl.3)

You have learned Hammers (lvl.4)

You have gained 1 Strength.

From my notifications, this divine trial had certainly taught me something. Control returned to me as the experience flowed into my being. As powerful as they were, the gods of this world could be defied. If one was strong enough.

“Ignorant... and so melodramatic are you, human, but I guess I did after all make you in my own image,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. Her voice grew serious and stern, “If I wished you dead, you would be. I tolerate your presence because you are amusing, and because I have a use for you. Be that as it may, I will not tolerate RUDENESS!” exclaimed the divine.

The anger left her as quickly as it came, for her expression became bright and joyful. She clapped her hands together, her eyes lighting, “You have passed the Test! Which makes you worthy of receiving my Mark. Oh, how delightful. This has not happened for, ah yes, centuries! Well done, now the Hul Abba, my servants will allow your passage!” she praised, her enthusiasm almost infectious.

“Now, claim your prize! Quickly” she intoned.

I sought my ‘prize’, scanning all the corners of this room, only to see the pseudo-me swiftly revert to an amorphous blob. The liquid began to vibrate, creating ripples that distorted and distended it into strange shapes. Then corners formed, and new wooden textures formed along the surface. Slowly, it began to take the rough shape of... a trunk or chest.

“Quickly, before it finishes its transformation. Touch it!” insisted the goddess, command etched into every syllable of her voice.

I found myself drawing closer, my hand reaching for what was left of my defeated foe. Making contact with its wooden surface, I felt a connection more intimate than anything I had ever felt before as I claimed what was rightfully mine. My heart raced, pounding in my chest, as a strange, fiery desire enveloped me.

And then, with an abrasive suddenness, pain, that most unwelcome of guests, imposed itself upon me.