Touch of Fate

Apparently, Morris's summoning affinity followed along with his innate love of history and knowledge, leading to his summons embodying those traits. Unfortunately, such qualities didn't lend themselves well to the role of a vanguard, so a little trial and error was necessary.

His first two attempts yielded an animate book that was able to fight by throwing bits of paper folded into lethally sharp projectiles, and a spectral manifestation of a soldier from a historical battle.

The first was helpful to some extent, but quickly disintegrated when it was skewered by one of the fishmen they encountered shortly after leaving the shop. As a result, Morris was forced to hurriedly step up to occupy the rest while Sera took them down from a distance.

Initially, the second seemed like it was a bit more reliable. After all, it had appeared clad in ghostly armor and carrying a sword and shield. It was only after the group was ambushed by a school of housecat-sized flying fish that the weakness of the creature became apparent. Since it was a spectral creature without any real body, the soldier was unable to even touch the monsters and apparently could only help by raising the morale of its allies.

"Perhaps we need to consider some other alternatives." Morris said with a sigh while Mike was healing his flying fish induced injuries.

"Now, now. Just because the first two attempts failed, doesn't mean this isn't a decent option. You just need to make sure that you maintain a clear idea of what you want when you activate the scroll."

There was a soft rush of air followed by a distant impact as Sera neatly dispatched the last of the fleeing monsters with a well-placed arrow.

The bard stood up stiffly, "I understand that, it's just...this isn't exactly easy. When I'm using one of the scrolls, I'm trying to maintain the image of a vanguard and I can tell that the spell is working to compensate, but it feels odd."

"Odd how?"

"Well, it feels like it keeps...sliding, I guess? Like I try to get it to target one type of creature, but for whatever reason, it can't latch on and instead ends up selecting something else entirely."

[Weird. I've never had an experience like that before. Is it because he's doing this without having the actual skill?]

By this point, Sera had finished retrieving her arrows and had moved to join them while adding her own commentary. "I think you're trying too hard. You need to relax a bit."

Morris looked over at her. "Is that something you've foreseen?"

"No, but I have a little bit of experience with difficult to use skills, and I can tell that you are trying to force it." She shot back sharply, and then added in a more gentle tone. "Just let it flow and it will work out."

There was a few seconds of silence as Morris digested this advice, before he nodded and pulled out another scroll. "Alright, let's try it again."

He concentrated on the strip of paper, muttering under his breath as he did so. A magic circle formed on the sodden street, glowing particles eventually resolving into a solid form.

Their first impression of the summoned creature was that of a tall and long-haired woman. However, her non-human nature quickly became apparent when one looked down to where her legs should have started. Rather than the usual humanoid lower half, she had a long and sinuous, snake-like body clad in tan colored scales that matched her sandy blonde hair. A closer examination of her face also revealed that her pale green eyes had vertical, slitted pupils.

Her torso was encased in a light grey tunic of a silken material that hung loosely from her slender frame, and she was carrying a long bladed spear with a spiked crossguard in her hands. Judging from the ease with which she handled it, she was quite skilled in its use.

While the three of them were staring at the new arrival, she fixed Morris with an intense gaze and, "....Hissss."

[A forked tongue...no, I mean, she hisses?]

"A lamia, huh?" Sera commented dryly. "So this is a true representation of your soul?"

The bard glared at her. "For your information, lamias are well known for their academic pursuits, and their desert homeland is world renowned for their libraries. I'm sure that she is representative of my innate love of learning and pursuit of knowledge in all forms."

"That could be the case." She shot back with a grin. "Or could it be that you have a preference for scaly women?"

"That's not-" Morris was cut off as the lamia suddenly moved forward and put herself protectively between him and Sera while glaring fiercely in the Oracle's direction.

"Aww, she likes you already. How nice."

Morris looked stricken for a moment, but finally sighed. "Whatever…At least I managed to summon a decent vanguard."

"Hmm? Are lamias really powerful or something?" Mike asked.

The bard nodded. "While they are better known for their knowledge and command of magic, lamias are also famous for their martial prowess. Supposedly, a single lamia has the strength of five normal men and can move with the speed of a striking serpent. Combine this with their natural flexibility and durability, and they are a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield."

"Sounds promising. Let's see what she can do before the summoning spell ends."

With the lamia in the lead, the group resumed their exploration. They quickly encountered another group of fishmen in the remnants of an old market. The dozen or so monsters were seemingly gathered together in some kind of meeting, but quickly turned to attack once the party entered the 'room.'

While Sera was the first to act, putting arrows through the bulbous and staring eyes of the first two attackers, the lamia was quick to respond as well. With a flick of her snake-like lower half she practically flew across the room and began cutting her way through the monsters with graceful sweeping motions of her spear.

In a handful of seconds, before Morris even had a chance to reach the enemy and Sera could do more than fire another shot, the fishmen were all slain, bodies dispersing into particles and leaving behind a handful of tiny red mana cores.

Task complete, the lamia turned back to her summoner, bowed slightly, and vanished herself as the spell came to an end.

While the bard was still staring thoughtfully at the spot she disappeared from, Mike stepped forward and slapped him on the back. "Well, I think we found the direction we need to go in from now on. That was a hell of a summon."

"Very effective, yes." Morris replied distractedly. "She really lived up to the reputation...it's just... does this seem right to you? Like does this outcome make sense?"

"I don't follow."

He pulled out another of the summoning scrolls and held it up. "The spell encoded in these is supposedly one of the most basic, right?"

"More or less. I did modify it a bit to increase the efficiency, but it should still be on par with a fundamental Conjuration effect."

"Then, does it make sense that I was able to summon such a powerful creature using one?"

Mike frowned. "I'm not sure. When I conjured up Red, I used a similar spell, but I think that was more a product of the amount of mana I invested. Given the energy stored in those scrolls, it's actually a little hard to believe that something as powerful as a lamia showed up."

"It should be impossible, unless...unless it was drawing from another...damn it!"

"What's the matter?"

Morris sat down heavily with a weary sigh, and explained. "I just checked my [Status] and I found the cause. My class changed and I have the Summoning Magic skill now."

Mike waited, but he didn't seem to have any intention of going on. "Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"

"Only if I wanted to be a mage." He shot back despondently.

"Ah, I get it." Sera broke in. "He was trying to pursue a martial advancement track, but got pigeonholed into a magic user role."

"Is that how it works?"

She glared at him. "For NORMAL people, the number and type of skills they can get is dependent on their class. Based on the class they are born with, everyone has several potential classes they can advance into, depending on the skills they acquire over the course of their lives and the actions they take. As they advance, the benefits of one's class increases, but they also lose some versatility as other paths of advancement are cut off."

Mike muttered. "So, you basically become increasingly specialized when advancing down a particular path, sacrificing options for power. I'm guessing the System is the one assigning classes?"

"That's right, and there is not much you can do about it if it decides to go in a direction you don't like. I think there are a few legends about individuals who managed to switch to an entirely separate path, but I don't know much about it."

"There's not much to know." Morris broke in quietly. "A few obscure accounts suggest that it might be possible, but even then it usually required some degree of divine intervention to achieve. Which is why you are supposed to just learn to live with whatever path the System gives you. There really isn't any other choice."

The bard was looking depressed, as if he had yet to come to terms with his new situation. Mike had to wonder if it was really that shocking of a revelation.

"I don't suppose you'd mind explaining why this is such an issue for you?"

Morris glared up at him, and for a second he almost felt as if his friend was planning on attacking, but eventually the bard sighed and leaned back against one of the buildings.

"I'm sure you won't be surprised to learn that it has to do with my father. Despite appearances to the contrary, the Count actually is actually a mage."

"And you don't want to follow in his footsteps, is that right?" Sera asked.

"I don't want to be anything like him!" Morris yelled while standing, taking a few steps towards the empty streets as if to walk off his anger before turning and yelling. "He always wanted me to be a mage! He even tried to trick me into following the same path when I was growing up, and I almost fell for it."

He stopped for a second, deflating under the weight of his situation again. "Or at least, that's the way it used to be. Part of the reason I became a bard was because it was the closest thing to a non-magic user I could become once I'd realized his plans. I knew there were still mage paths available, but I had hoped that my martial training would preclude me from falling into them. When I got the Bardic Knight class, I honestly thought I'd finally succeeded in avoiding the future he'd laid out for me...I guess I was just fooling myself in more ways than one."

Mike rubbed the back of his head, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you to use those scrolls."

"It's not your fault." Morris replied quietly. "You couldn't have known. Besides, fool that I am, I had thought the danger of this happening had passed."

Silence descended on the group as a gloomy mood enveloped them. Finally, Sera broke it with an angry growl. "Grr, whatever! Who cares if you're a mage now?! Who cares if your father wanted you to be one?! Stop worrying about that bastard! Just because you've been forced onto this path by the System doesn't mean you have to let it define you."

"No you don't understand-" Morris started to reply before she cut him off.

"No! You are the one that doesn't understand! You've been letting your father dictate your life this entire time!"

"What do you know?! I've been doing everything I could to foil his plans! If not for what happened in Wyrport, I would still be free of him!"

[Hm?]

Sera poked him in the chest. "That's just it! Whether you are obeying him or rebelling against him, you are still taking action because of him! Why don't you try living for yourself for a change?!"

The pair glared at each other for a few seconds, and Mike was concerned that they were about to come to blows. Finally, Morris's shoulders slumped and he looked away. In a tired voice he muttered, "I need a break," before walking over to a nearby building and going through the door.

"Fine!" Sera growled before going the opposite direction and entering a different building.

Glancing back and forth between the two, Mike was torn. "Um, guys? You know we're still in a dungeon right? Even if it's an easy one, it's kind of dangerous to go off on your own...Guys?"