"What's this window? What are these levels? What's a skill?"
[DING!] Levels are an efficient way to calculate your strength. Every 5 levels, you gain skill points. These points allow you to increase the level of your skills faster. Skills are more or less powerful techniques that let you do things normally impossible.
The skeleton rolled his eye sockets toward the sky. A ghostly grimace, like a reflex from a forgotten life.
"I see… But could you stop making that noise every time you talk? It's already breaking my bones."
[DING!] The {God of Death: Azael} wished for me to be familiar to you. So, he granted me basic functions. You must define the rest.
He scratched his skull thoughtfully. A dry sound echoed in the cave: [SCRITCH SCRITCH SCRITCH]. He didn't even notice the worn copper rings wrapped around the base of his finger bones. Memories of a past still refusing to come back.
"Okay, but this is super annoying. Can you stop or not?"
[DING!] Yes. For that, you need to give me a personality and a name.
He sighed. Well… he would have sighed if he had lungs.
"I don't know… Choose yourself. And for the name… Zena."
A silence. Strangely respectful.
Then the voice returned, softer, less metallic. As if imitating a real person.
"Very well. I am Zena. I will adapt my personality to yours as you progress."
He lowered his gaze to his hands. The green flames in his sockets seemed to dance more calmly. Maybe this is what life is? An absurd spark inside an empty skull.
"OK. Now tell me, Zena… What's my name? It would make sense for you to choose it now."
"I could. But a name is an identity. And identity is what you will have to rebuild yourself. The past belongs to you, even if you don't remember it yet."
"Ugh… Great. An assistant who does half-assed philosophy."
"But I wonder about one thing, Zena… How do I check my skills?"
"Just ask."
[DING!]
､-----------------------------------------------------､Name: [ ]Race: SkeletonClass: Skeleton LeaderLevel: 1 → 8HP: 10 → 25Mana: 5 → 13
Skills:
Reconstitution Lv1 – Mastery: 0/100
Flame Fist Lv1 – Mastery: 1/100
Skill Points (SP): 5
Protector Deity: Azael, God of Death､-----------------------------------------------------､
"Hey, and could you—"
[DING!]
Reconstitution Lv1
A common ability among skeletons that allows them to rebuild themselves from bones.
Flame Fist Lv1
A skill that wraps the fist in magical fire.
"Alright then… should we search the cave?"
"I think that's an interesting idea."
He approached the charred body, or rather what was left of it. [CLICT CLICT CLICT]Everything had burned. Except one object. A blue crystal, the size of a fist.
Of course, he picked it up.
"Magic crystal?"
"Yeah."
"Cool. And I guess that's not common?"
"Yeah again."
Around him, nothing much to note. A chest, an old pentacle on the ground. Given the state of the room, it probably wasn't the heart of the operation.
"Well, I hope there's a corpse pit nearby. I don't want to see just burnt bones every time I come here."
"It should be easy to throw it outside."
"After the rest of the search."
The sound of his feet on the cold stone ground was kind of unnerving as he aproached the chest. [CLICT CLICT CLICT CLICT CLICT CLICT CLICT CLICT] Inside, only black robes and leather boots.
At least I'll make less noise walking...
He tore one of the robes to stuff the boots and put them on. Put another on with a hood. He looked almost normal if not for the fact he looked uncannily skinny and that his bones made noises with his every move.
He could now focus more on the interesting thing.
A corridor.
Two rooms.
The exit, probably further down.
He entered the room on the right.
Pickaxes. Piles of bones. Nothing alive — obviously — but everything suggested skeletons had been used here, like tools.
Then, a sound.
A click, faint. The kind of noise that only exists when someone hesitates to move.
He turned around immediately.
A small skeleton stood in the doorway of the other room. Frozen. Its empty sockets stared at its own hands, as if surprised to exist.
Huh? Another skeleton... conscious?
He didn't move. Neither did the other.
Then, slowly, the small skeleton knelt down. With a bony finger, it drew something in the dust on the ground.
"FREE?"
The skeleton blinked his sockets. He... he can write?
"…Yeah. You're free. The guy who bound you is dead."
The other didn't reply. He pointed toward the hallway, then at him. Then wrote again:
"YOU?"
He grimaced — or something close to it. Alright, so we're doing it like this?
He knelt down in turn, and scratched in the dust with a rough finger:
"ME. NO NAME. YOU?"
The small skeleton answered quickly:
"THREE."
"…Three?"
A quick, sharp nod. Efficient. Not afraid, but… cautious.
"That was your name, or your number? Whatever. Three it is. You look like a Three."
No immediate reaction.
He shrugged. Eh. Three will do. Not gonna hold a naming ceremony for every sack of bones I wake up.
He studied the skeleton. Smaller. Stockier. Maybe young. Maybe a dwarf, he wasn't really sure honestly. He doubted he had the knowledge to tell what that skeleton was before.
One detail, though, made him pause.
Wait... I can read. And write. Like, perfectly. I have no clue who I am or what I was, but I've got flawless spelling?
He looked down at the word "ME." Simple. Neat. No hesitation.
Well… another mystery for the pile. At this rate, it's starting to look more like a tower at this point.
He straightened his spine. He would've smiled, if he had a face. Instead, he gave a thumbs up.
The small skeleton returned the gesture. A perfect echo.
No voices. No words. But clear enough.