Path of Ascension Book 1: Dawn of the Ascendant

2

Matt could do thi—

Higher authority reached.

…

Anomaly resolved.

…

Tertiary Effect: Lowered starting Maximum Mana.

Maximum Mana determined to be 1.

Matt felt as if he'd been punched in the gut yet again. A starting Maximum Mana less than what was needed to cast a [Fireball]. And he could never increase it. His stomach roiled with renewed vigor once the reality of his Tier 1 Talent’s secondary effect set in again.

He stood out of the chair once the wires disconnected from his arm and the screen flashed and said, “Please, have a nice day,” as if it was mocking him.

Looking around at the seemingly unfamiliar world, Matt tried to find anything or anyone that could fix him.

Everyone in here was an acquaintance he grew up with in the orphanage, no one who could turn back time. He had been with them since the mass rift breakout five years ago that destroyed half the city and orphaned so many kids like himself. As his gaze wandered, all the people he knew so well appeared alien to him.

They all looked so…happy.

A dozen feet away, Roxanne stood at a recruiter’s desk for Victor’s Elementals, a mage-focused guild that was the husband guild to Estor’s Escalators, a physically oriented guild that acted to round out delve compositions so the parties were balanced.

Every word that came out of the recruiter’s mouth made Roxanne smile more. The paperwork placed in front of her was quickly signed. She’d dreamed of being a mage since their Introduction to Magic class all those years ago.

Matt wanted to feel happy for her, but nausea clawed at his stomach. He looked over to Gavle’s Good Guilders, a respectable Tier 10 guild based on Ilstor, a neighboring Tier 12 planet. As he approached their booth, the head recruiter, Miles, stared at Matt with alarm.

“Ascender’s balls, Matt! What’s going on? I just got a notification saying your Talent isn’t up to recruitment standards.” Miles’s head swiveled around, and he whispered, “Get over here.” He reached out and snagged Matt’s arm and pulled him into a vacant conference room behind the recruiting stands.

“What happened? I can't see the exact details, but your application was just booted back by our AI with…”

Miles held up the pad currently displaying Matt's conditional contract into GGG. He scrolled all the way down to show a flashing red box with the words ‘applicant does not meet minimum requirements.’

“Is it really that bad?”

Matt debated what to tell Miles. He was a good guy who tried to get as many of the orphans into the fairly prestigious guild as he could. With Matt's knowledge and skill with a blade, Miles easily arranged a conditional contract for Matt with extremely good terms that only lasted ten years instead of the standard fifteen.

His percent-based mana regeneration could have been useful, if not for his pitiful Maximum Mana. So, he revealed the worst of it and ignored the solely useless parts.

“Completely unable to cultivate mana,” Matt whispered. Venturing a glance over at Miles, the man had abruptly stopped pacing on the other side of the table.

“f**k.

“f**k.

“Fuck.”

Miles pressed his hands together in front of his face and started pacing again. Clearly deep in thought, he said, “There's not much I can do without getting both of us into trouble. If I show too much favoritism, other guilds might think I'm trying to create a spy to infiltrate another guild for us.”

Matt waited and silently hoped Miles could think of a way for this not to be the end of his career as a delver.

Was he finished before he even started?

The nausea resurfaced even stronger than before, gnawing at him as the contents of his stomach fought to escape by any route necessary. With a deep breath and an effort of will, he forced his stomach to settle.

“I know that sounds like an excuse, but it’s happened before. It would end in you getting blacklisted from any guild on this planet, and probably the neighboring ones, too. Even some of the city governments wouldn't allow you anywhere near them.”

The next pause idled for what seemed like an eternity. “All right. The way I see it, you have two options. Well, only one viable option really. The other is a long shot at best.

“Best-case scenario, you somehow find a sponsor for The Path of Ascension. That would come with admission to the PlayPen Island. It's an Empire-run training facility only the best of the best get into.”

Of course, Matt knew of The Path. It was literally legendary; the place where legends were forged, racing through the Tiers to become the heroes of the Empire.

As Matt opened his mouth to state he no longer fit that category, if he ever had, Miles held up a finger. “But there is a second way into the PlayPen. Most city adjuncts get a couple of slots per year to send promising youths. Getting one of those slots is even harder than usual in this city. The adjunct has been using them as political favors for the last ten years or so.

“That’s the ideal case, but 99% of people never even sniff a PlayPen’s air. More realistically, you need to buy a slot in a public Tier 1 rift. It’s what freelance delvers do if there’s too much competition for local rifts of their Tier.”

He pulled his pad out and started tapping on it. “Ah. Here, in Glesie, two cities up the coast. They have a kobold Tier 1 rift, the going price is…”

Miles’s eyes flicked around, scanning as he sucked in a breath. “Ten thousand credits. That’s more than usual, but the price seems to have jumped in the last few years. That's the problem with a Tier 4 planet. At Tier 5, the planet would have far more Tier 1 rifts.”

Miles spun the pad to show the listing that further confirmed his doom.

I’m f****d. It will take years to get that many credits. I’d be so far behind everyone else it would be terrible.

Matt forced himself to drop the self-pity and think about the situation more.

No, I don’t care if I’m older than everyone at my Tier. I’ll still become a delver and stop the rifts from overflowing again.

Earning ten thousand credits wouldn't be easy. That would take at least three years of work at any job willing to hire a thirteen-year-old. Let alone someone without a useful Tier 1 Talent and no job skills besides beginner delver training.