Nick closed the book slowly.
The quiet between them settled like dust.
“…Huh,” he said at last.
The young woman across from him smiled faintly.
“Not what you expected?” she asked.
“Not even a little bit.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought it’d be the usual ‘girl saves village, everyone claps’ kind of story, but that…” He hesitated. “That hit a little close to home.”
Her eyes softened. “Good stories often do.”
He glanced at her. “You like that one a lot, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “It’s honest.”
That made him pause.
“Honest how?”
She traced a fingertip along the edge of the page. “People don’t like to think about what’s waiting in the darkness. But ignoring something doesn’t make it go away.”
She lifted her eyes, meeting his.
“Some things climb out of the darkness.”
Nick grinned. “That’s comforting.”
“It’s not meant to be,” she replied. “But it’s still true.”
He leaned back in his chair, letting his gaze drift over the massive stained-glass window above them. Color spilled across the table like cooled fire.
“…He didn’t do anything wrong,” Nick said quietly. “The man from below.”
“No,” she agreed.
“He tried to help. Tried to belong.”
“Some people don’t fit the shape their world expects.”
Nick couldn’t reply to that. Because he suddenly wasn’t sure whether they were talking about the story anymore.
She tilted her head, studying him.
“What part stayed with you?” she asked.
He hesitated again. Then he laughed under his breath. “You ever… see yourself in something you really, really don’t want to?”
She smiled softly. “That’s how you know the story is good. Stories choose us long before we choose them.”
“You think stories have agency?”
She scoffed. “What does agency have anything to do with it? Did you actually think I meant it literally?”
“Ah…”
She shook her head. “Anyway, I’m sure that’s enough about that story.”
He held a hand up to stop her. “Actually, I have one more question first.”
She tilted her head, but gestured for him to continue.
“That story… I know it’s a folktale, but does it reference an actual historical event? Or is it just a story to warn people?”
She considered the question, her brow drawing together.
“I’ve wondered the same thing for years,” she admitted. “Some scholars insist it’s based on something real. Others say it’s pure imagination. I’ve traced versions of it through six regions and three languages, and… it never leads anywhere.”
She tapped the cover thoughtfully.
“It feels like a memory,” she said. “But nobody knows whose memory it is.”
Nick rested his elbows on the table, the stained-glass colors pooling over his hands like spilled ink.
He cleared his throat.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
He hesitated before picking the safest possible question to start shifting the conversation.
“Do people really believe folktales like this one?”
She smiled while smoothing the page edges.
“People believe stories because they’re true in the ways that facts aren’t.”
“That sounded profound, but I think you’re just dodging the question.”
“I’m answering it the only way that makes sense.”
He opened his mouth, then decided he didn’t feel like arguing with her poetic heart.
So he just had to shift the conversation again.
“…the Deep Road,” he said. “In the story. Is that a real place?”
She leaned back, thoughtful. “That’s one of the few parts that almost everyone agrees on. The ‘Deep Road’ almost certainly refers to the Abyss, or one of the many entrances. Some think it’s referring to the Realm of Death, but nothing has ever crawled out of the Realm of Death that we know of.”
“…the Abyss?”
It was his first time hearing about it.
Her fingers drummed once on the book’s leather cover.
“The Abyss is… well… the Abyss, you know? It’s a mysterious place. Nobody who ever went inside came back out. But sometimes terrifying creatures wander out of a crack somewhere. Usually results in entire cities being wiped off the map.”
“So, the ‘monsters’ that humans are supposed to fight… did they all come from the Abyss?
“Monsters?” she repeated. “Like, orcs and goblins and stuff? No, they were here before the Abyss.”
“Then what is the difference between a monster and a creature from the Abyss?”
She grinned. “I’m starting to believe your claim that you’re from another world.”
Nick frowned. “Was it a dumb question?”
She shrugged. “Not ‘dumb’, per se. It’s just that normal people don’t ask something like that. Either you’re not from around here, or you’re an academic who asks the difficult questions. You’re a little rougher around the edges than most academics I meet, though.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “Thanks, I guess?”
She gave him a slow once-over, like someone appraising a book by the quality of the leather rather than the title.
“Well, it doesn’t matter what you are. To answer your question properly…”
She folded her hands on top of the book, her posture settling into something subtly instructive.
“The world is… divided. Mostly by doctrine, but also by what people have learned the hard way.”
“So, like divinely mandated racism?”
“Mhm, something like that.” She lifted a finger. “First: humans.”
Another finger. “Second: monsters, which includes every magical creature native to this world, sentient or not.”
Third finger. “Third: abyssal beings. Invaders from… somewhere else.”
A fourth. “And finally: animals, non-magical, ordinary animals.”
Nick frowned. “Two of those categories seem a bit arbitrary.”
She brightened, delighted. “Yes! Exactly! It’s entirely arbitrary. But arbitrary categorization is one of humanity’s oldest habits. And when the gods got involved, the categories became doctrine rather than observation.”
He leaned forward. “Explain?”
“Well…” She gestured vaguely toward the towering mural behind them. “Religious law declares humans seperate from monsters because the gods set us apart. The distinction isn’t biological. It’s theological.”
“So humans are special because the gods said so,” Nick summarized.
“More or less,” she said. “Some sects say humans were the first creations. Others say the final. Some insist humans were the most perfect. Others argue that humans were the most flawed.” She tilted her head. “All of them agree only on one thing: humans were chosen.”
Nick scoffed. “Nothing more dangerous to a religion than that word.”
She returned a knowing smile. “I agree.”
He tapped the table lightly. “Okay, so monsters are natives. And magical by default?”
“Yes. Some more than others. Magical evolution varies by region, species, difficulty of habitat, and sometimes… accidents. The Church of Strength says monsters embody natural trial. The Church of Justice says they test moral fiber. The Church of Secrets ambiguously says nobody else got it right, but they won’t put their own theology forward.”
“Figures.”
“As for abyssal creatures…” Her expression dimmed slightly. “They don’t belong in any natural schema. They weren’t here before. They don’t follow magical or ecological patterns. They arrive and cause unpredictable amounts of destruction and chaos.”
“How often?”
“Rarely.”
A small chill crept down his spine.
“Circling back a little bit… why did the gods choose humans? I know you said there are theories, but do we have anything concrete?”
Her eyes sparkled.
“What?” he asked.
“You ask questions like someone who hasn’t been conditioned,” she said. “Most people never question why the categories exist. They were born into them. They accept them. Even scholars accept them, with maybe some question marks.” She gestured to him. “But you? You ask ‘why’ as if it actually matters.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“It should.” She leaned back, studying him with gentle intensity. “Let me guess. You’ve seen things that don’t fit neatly into these boxes.”
Nick nodded.
There was that mysterious god-like entity he fought in the Goblin Den.
And, of course, there were the gods themselves.
How did they fit into everything?
And what about the indigenous gods that monsters worshiped?
Were they just other, more powerful monsters?
“Stories like the one we read,” she continued, “they stay because they don’t sit comfortably in any of these categories either. A man who used to be a man, but isn’t anymore? Folktales wrestle with the things doctrine ignores.”
Nick looked at the book again.
He remembered a handful of the phrases.
He thought about Below-Man.
“…You think the story is about an abyssal creature,” he concluded.
“I think the story is about a man,” she correctly softly. “And what is left of him when something else takes root.”
He sighed. “You’re good at this.”
“At what?”
“Talking like everything is a metaphor.”
Her smile widened. “Libraries do that to me. You should see what I’m like at work.”
“Do I want to?”
Her smile faltered momentarily. “Probably not, actually. I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”
They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few breaths.
Nick eventually cleared his throat. “So… what do you study?”
“Everything,” she said. “Anything. You?”
He shrugged. “Currently? Nothing much yet, but I want to learn more about history, monsters, dungeons, magic, the mechanics of this world…”
He lifted an imaginary luthen. “Music, I guess.”
She laughed. “Ambitious.”
“Overwhelmed,” Nick corrected.
“Same thing.”
Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve got a lot to learn. About this place. About what’s expected of me. About what the hell I’m even doing here.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I am.”
Her eyes held his steadily. “Because the people who ask the right questions always do.”
“…Well, thanks, I guess?”
He went to stand up, and then paused. “One last question before I leave?”
“My name?” she offered.
“Oh, that too,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Kelsey.”
“Nice to meet you Kelsey,” he said. “I’m Nick.”
“I know,” she replied. “Nicholas Draegan, right?”
He froze.
“What was your other question?”
“I was going to ask about the status window,” he said. “About the stats in there, specifically.”
“Oh, ‘Mind’, ‘Body’, and ‘Spirit’?”
“Yeah.”
Kelsey leaned back in her chair, tapping the closed book with one fingertip as if weighing her answer.
“People treat those stats like they’re pure arithmetic,” she said. “But they’re not just numbers. They’re reflections.”
“Reflections of what?”
“Everything,” she said. “Your potential. Your limitations. How the world reads you.”
Nick narrowed his eyes. “I was hoping for something a bit more concrete.”
She snickered. “You won’t get concrete. Those three attributes are the single most argued-about subject in magical academia. Entire universities exist dedicated to pretending they understand just one of the attributes.”
“And do they?”
“Not really. Maybe they have some general ideas?” Her eyes glittered with quiet amusement. “They publish significant research insisting that they’ve figured it out every few years.”
Nick groaned. “Fantastic.”
She tilted her head. “Well, I can give you the version I trust the most. It’s not standard doctrine, but it works well enough for me.”
“I’ll take that over having nothing to work with.”
She raised one finger. “Mind isn’t just intelligence,” she said. ”It’s clarity and insight. It’s the ability to reason, to see through illusion, to pursue parallel thoughts and concepts, and so on. It seems to reflect how well you perceive and understand the world around you.”
Then she raised a second finger.
“Body is vitality and force, but also dexterity, flexibility, and endurance. This stat seems to reflect how well you fit in the world you inhabit.”
Third finger.
“Spirit reflects the strength of your soul. It seems to be directly tied to your ability to shape mana, the quantity of your mana, and perhaps even the quality of your mana. Nobody is really sure what the connection is between souls and mana, but we know there is one.”
Nick sighed. “Those descriptions seem ambiguous enough to work as catch-alls, but I guess they’re specific enough that I at least have a general direction.”
She grinned. “That’s closer to the truth than most want to admit.”
“And what does a high score in any of them actually do?” he asked.
“That depends on the person.”
She gave him a thoughtful look.
“The average human will reach between 8 and 12 in all three stats throughout their lifetime. As you might expect, people tend to develop more strongly in areas that they invest more time and effort. But there is also such a thing as natural talent.”
A shadow crossed her face when she mentioned ‘natural talent’.
“Some people with high Mind become brilliant scholars. Others become dangerously unstable. High Body can make someone a great warrior or a reckless idiot. Those with high Spirit tend to become powerful mages, but sometimes they use their mana in other ways. Spirit can be seen as a supplementary stat to pretty much any discipline.”
“And what qualifies as ‘high’?” he asked.
She raised both eyebrows. “Are you asking because of your own stats?”
He hesitated, then decided he might as well take the plunge.
“20,” he replied. “In all three stats.”
Her expression didn’t change.
At least, not dramatically.
Something behind her eyes sharpened.
“Well,” she said quietly. “That explains…” she trailed off.
Nick stared. “…explains what?”
“Uh, your question. Right. You were asking if ‘20’ is considered high?”
He nodded.
“In raw stat terms?” she shrugged. “It’s very impressive, but not unheard of. Some high-tier adventurers reach that level. But in your case, you’ve reached that level in all three stats. That’s unusual.”
Nick folded his arms. “Unusual in a way that will draw attention?”
“Maybe?” she said uncertainly. “It’s not exactly the pinnacle of strength. The champions of humanity are quite a bit stronger than that, but you don’t seem to have very many enhancements…” She narrowed her eyes. “Or… any enhancements. These are your base stats.”
He shifted uncomfortably, realizing that she could see a lot more about him than he expected.
“Be careful as you begin your ascension.”
She lifted a hand and tapped her temple. “Too much Mind and you might be paralyzed by information.”
Then her chest. “Too much Spirit and your mana will become louder than your thoughts.”
Then her arm. “Too much Body and you forget how to solve problems without force.”
That last one reminded Nick of Ray and her NaN stat in Body. The warning fit her perfectly.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he muttered.
Silence hung between them, like the pause between turning a page and deciding whether to put down the book.
Nick decided to turn the page. He took a breath. “Kelsey.”
“Hm?”
“You said my full name earlier.”
She smiled. “I did.”
“I didn’t tell you that,” he said carefully.
“I know.”
Their eyes met.
“Should I be worried?” he asked.
“Should I be worried?” she countered.
“…Touché.”
She folded her hands neatly. “Nicholas Draegan. Your name has been circulating since this morning. Clearing the Siege Vault made waves, and there’s a rumor that the Goddess of Beauty spoke to someone personally.”
Her smile was polite, but her words were precise. “You’re not a very discreet person.”
“I didn’t choose any of that. It just sort of… happened.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” she said. “But rumors don’t care about intentions.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Do you… know who I am?”
“I know who people think you are,” she said. “I don’t know who you are.”
The simple truth of it settled warm and heavy in his chest.
“That’s fair,” Nick said softly.
She closed the book with a soft thump. “Come back tomorrow. Same time.”
“That sounded like an order,” he said.
“It was.”
He tried not to smile. “Why?”
She stood, tucking the book under her arm.
“Because people who ask the right questions shouldn’t study alone.”
Nick watched her step away.
“Kelsey?” he called after her.
She turned.
“You didn’t tell me your full name.”
Her expression changed.
A tiny flicker.
A hint of reluctance mixed with amusement.
“Perhaps next time,” she said.
Then she vanished among the books like she had always belonged to them.
Nick let out a deep sigh.
“…Does this count as cheating?” he muttered.
The library’s stained-glass glow washed over his hands.
For the first time since arriving in this world…
He met someone he actually wanted to be friends with.
Project Knightfall 