Bog Standard Isekai
Book 3: Chapter 8

“Ok, but if I see a single statue in there, I’m out,” said Brin. He and Ellion the priest walked side by side down the town’s boardwalk, and everyone gave them a wide berth, even so far as to cross the street to the other side. No one was rude, though, and most everyone also stopped when Ellion passed them to put a hand on their hearts and bow their heads.

Everyone was busy with the festival, and all were wearing their finest clothes, which Brin had to admit were on a whole other level than what he was used to. Tall hats and bright colors were everywhere, layered skirts, loads of lace, and complex patterns were sewn into every inch of fabric. Brin wasn’t underdressed in his new clothes, but he wasn’t even close to overdressed either.

Everyone moved with an excited urgency, hanging up banners and putting out flowers, but no one was too busy to pay proper respect to their priest.

Ellion quirked an eyebrow. “And you believe that would protect you? Do you believe that if you do not enter the temple they cannot find you? Never fear, if they want to destroy you, or to give you another traumatic vision, or anything else, they could do so here as easily as anywhere else. The gods are not limited, Mark.”

“It’s a little weird to be called that,” said Brin. He still didn’t know the entirety of Ellion’s vision, just that the goddess had put English into his brain and given him some instructions.

“I apologize,” said Ellion. “But did you stop being Mark when you became Brin, or are you both?”

“Something to think about.”

“Indeed. But I didn’t seek you out to speak of names. The events of the earlier day made me wonder if I was truly doing all I could to help you adjust to your new reality. In fact, I’m sure that I have not.”

“Look about the thing with Tawna…” started Brin.

Ellion held up a hand. “I did not come to chastise you. I only wonder if there’s more I could be doing to help. Perhaps you have questions about our world, or the System, that would be strange to ask someone who doesn’t know your circumstances.”

“Is there any way to avoid System Day? It’s unfair that the other kids get more time than me,” said Brin.

“Why would you want to avoid it? Are you not anxious to finally get your Class, and the power that comes with it?”

“Sure,” said Brin. “But I’m so close to crossing the first threshold in every attribute. I’m sure that with six more months I could figure out Magic.”

“In that case, you’d need to obtain legal residency in another village or city,” said Ellion. “Leaving Hammon’s Bog for a long time would also work, but two weeks isn’t enough.”

“My Class is [Child of Travin’s Bog], not Hammon’s Bog. Is there any way I’m still a legal resident over there?” asked Brin.

“No,” said Ellion. “Hogg registered you when you came to town. There’s paperwork involved.”

“What does the [Child] Class do anyway?” asked Brin. “What’s the benefit of having one town versus another?”

“Nothing, and there are none. Though, there are some interesting Skills if you select [Child] on System Day, mostly around learning and apprenticeship,” said Ellion.

Brin mulled it over as they walked. They approached the town square, and Brin almost didn’t recognize it. Men and women carried polished planks of wood and were in the process of boarding over the entire grassy field in the center. Since they were adults with levels doing the work, it was going fast. So the dance really would be right here, only it wouldn’t be in the mud and it wouldn’t kill the grass; grass could be covered for one day without damaging it. It was a bit jarring to see them do an amount of work in one day that his modern world would never even consider.

“What about Oaths?” asked Brin. “What’s the consequence of breaking an Oath as a child?”

“What did you swear on?” asked Ellion.

“My Class and levels,” said Brin.

“And do you have any of those?”

“I’m a [Child of Travin’s Bog],” said Brin.

“That’s right. If you broke your Oath, you would lose that Class. The System would then automatically reassign your Class to the next available one. I expect it would be [Child of Hammon’s Bog]. If you were to break an Oath again, I think it would still give you [Child of Hammon’s Bog] again, though in your adulthood, don’t expect to be offered a Class again if you lose it the first time.”

“Wait, that’s it?” asked Brin. “I could break my Oath right now, and nothing would happen?” asked Brin.

“Perhaps Solia would be slightly irked, since you swore by her. And I’d urge you to remember the exact wording of the Oath,” said Ellion.

“The Oath had us swear that we’d avenge each other if one of us was ever forced to break our Oath. But it never said anything about voluntarily breaking the Oath. I thought it was a strange omission.”

Ellion nodded. “And which of the five of you would be most likely put in that position? You. They added that clause to protect you. If anyone asks you to betray that Oath, you can truthfully tell them that four of the highest level people in the country will be forced to destroy them for it. However, perhaps you’d rather not risk it. Every Oath is a vulnerability, and perhaps it’s not one you care to adopt. Choose what you will, but do so before System Day or you really will lose your Class.”

They arrived at the temple, and Brin paused outside the door and faced Ellion. He pretended it was casual, but really he didn’t want to go in there. At least he didn’t see any statues today. “But what about after that? If I break an Oath after that, but I’m only level three or four, it’s not a big deal, right?”

Ellion walked inside, forcing Brin to follow him if he wanted an answer to his question.

“Correct,” said Ellion, once Brin was inside and walking with him again. “Classes are not slavery. If you really don’t like the path you’ve begun to walk down, there’s no shame in trying again with something else. You’ll keep your attributes you earned with training and feats, as well as any achievements or titles, or and Skills not tied to a Class. You only lose what you swore by, your Class and levels.”

“Why are you pointing out all the loopholes? We swear by the gods, so shouldn’t you be telling me to keep all my Oaths?” asked Brin.

“Ah, yes, you’re quite right,” said Ellion. “Sit there.”

Ellion indicated a bench on the front row and Brin took a seat, then Ellion walked around to the lectern, as if he were going to give a sermon to an audience of one. Well, that was exactly what was happening.

Maybe a year ago he’d find it odd that in a town where stone was so rare and precious, there would be a massive stone structure in the middle of town, and it would be virtually empty most of the time, but now that he was here, it wasn’t weird at all.

Ellion was a good guy, but this place could be a little intense sometimes.

“What is an Oath? Why do we have them?” asked Ellion.

Brin thought about it. “That’s a really good question. You said Classes aren’t slavery, but Oaths sure are. Or, they can be. What if I went around kidnapping people and forcing them to take Oaths to obey me, and then had those people gather more victims? I could own this country in like, a month.”

“What you are describing is called Oath-slavery, and it is exactly what Oaths are not supposed to be. We swear by the gods, because Oaths are meant to be for the gods. We swear as a proof of our faith. Perhaps we swear to avoid a temptation that has been troubling us in order to increase our righteousness. Perhaps we will swear an Oath as a sacrifice to increase our faith. But always, it should be in service to the bond between men and gods. Do not use Oaths to enforce simple business contracts; this is a sacrilege.”

At first, Ellion had kind of seemed like a cool priest, like a youth pastor who lightly nudged you in the right direction sometimes, but never at the cost of being too harsh or uncool. It turned out, Ellion was extremely dedicated, it was just that the things he was dedicated to were totally different that Brin had expected.

“If it does come into your head to build a tiny empire through the use of Oath-slavery, I will warn you: Do not. Do not think that your victims can protect you. I am authorized to remove unrighteous Oaths as a token of my service. Your own Oath-slaves will be the first to condemn you to the chopping block.”

“You can remove Oaths?” asked Brin.

“I can. If you ever swear an Oath you regret, come to me. Perhaps I can remove it, sometimes I will mediate it, but often I will command you to keep it. Do not swear careless Oaths.”

“Got it,” said Brin.

“There is one other matter,” said Ellion.

That couldn’t be good. “Go on.”

“You have offended Anshar. This is unwise. You should make him an offering.”

Brin gulped, looking around. “What’s Anshar the god of?”

“This is a silly question, and you know better. If I told you that Solia is the goddess of rivers, protection, and maternity, what would you say to that?”

“I’d say that you are vastly oversimplifying a being beyond your comprehension,” said Brin.

“Just so. By that token then, think of Anshar as the god of conquest,” said Ellion. He gestured with one robed hand towards the offering bowl on a raised column.

Brin thought carefully before he moved. Did he even care if Anshar hated him? Yes, he did. He wanted to grow and get stronger and defeat any enemies who came at him. That meant he wanted to conquer, at least to some degree.

It wouldn’t do to come at this half-heartedly. These gods were very real, and very present, and he shouldn’t try to lie to them, even in his own mind. Did he actually feel penitent about how he’d treated the god of conquest?

He didn’t regret letting Hogg give all the stuff back. He didn’t want any of it in the first place. That was the problem right there, though. He’d stolen a bunch of stuff he didn’t need or want, just to game the system. He didn’t need Thief right away; there was no time limit with System Day like with the attribute achievements. Not that he’d known that, but he could’ve learned by asking around if he’d cared to.

He could’ve waited to get the achievement and found a better target or figured out some kind of Robin Hood deal where he’d be able to steal without violating his own sense of principles. Instead, he’d just gone for it. It had been entirely selfish; he got the achievement, while the town might miss out on future caravans due to having a reputation for thievery. That much, he regretted.

“How much should I offer?”

“Everything you have with you, I should think,” said Ellion.

Brin winced. Only five silver, but he’d brought that money for the festival. Oh well, no use trying to cheat the gods.

He bowed before the offering tray, and whispered. “Anshar. By returning what I stole, I have stolen from you. I repent. Amen.”

He placed his silver in the tray, and faintly felt the impression of an eye that had been staring angrily at his back suddenly turning away.

Maybe it was his imagination.

IT WAS NOT HIS IMAGINATION. IT WAS REAL.

Brin shivered. Never doubt anything you see or feel in this place. Got it.

“And perhaps something for Solia? You wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful,” said Ellion.

“I’m out of money,” said Brin.

“Borrow from me,” said Ellion and handed Brin a little corduroy bag with five silver inside.

He didn’t have to think long for this one.

“Blessed Solia. I am overcome with gratitude for the grace and mercy you have shown me. I apologize for my failings, and implore you to continue to watch over me. Amen.” He placed the offering in the bowl.

He felt… not much. A nod of acceptance, perhaps? He wouldn’t question it.

“I don’t suppose you’d spot me another five silver for the festival, would you?” asked Brin, kind of joking.

“Of course!” said Ellion with a cheerful smile.

“You’re a scary person, you know that?”

Ellion waved. “Please. Don’t worry; you’re a child. I will collect from Hogg.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the ɴøᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“Oh in that case…” Brin snatched a second corduroy bag from Ellion’s hand.

“One last thing, then you can be on your way,” said Ellion. “I wonder if you would consider worshiping Solia.”

Brin had figured Ellion would ask him this at some point, so he was ready with an answer. “There’s a relief sculpture of all the gods outside, in a pyramid. That one at the very top, he’s the real god, right? The god of everything. It seems like he’s the one I should worship.”

Ellion nodded. “And you will, through Solia. This wasn’t your exact faith culture, but in your old world there were many who found it daunting to try to pray to the all-powerful Lord of everything. Instead, they worshiped the almighty with one of the righteous dead as an intermediary. The Saints, they call them. Perhaps you could think of Solia as one of these?”

“You… you make a pretty good point,” said Brin.

“I do.”

“Did Solia tell you to say that?”

“She did.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You will. Now run along and enjoy your festival day. I’ve used enough of your time,” said Ellion, and waved him out the door.

Brin bolted.

He didn't have long to think about Ellion's last question. Davi was waiting for him outside the temple with Marksi.

"So what happened?" Davi asked, before even saying hello. It took a minute for Brin to figure out what he was talking about. Right, Davi hadn't seen him since he'd been exiled from town. He probably only learned what happened from hearsay.

"The Prefit tried to pillory me. When Hogg showed up and said he couldn't, he banned me from town for three days."

Davi frowned angrily.

Right, the big guy was a real rule-follower. He wouldn't be happy to hear that Brin had trouble with the law, so it was natural that he'd want to side with the Prefit.

"What a jerk," said Davi. "He has no idea what's going on."

"Wait, you're taking my side?" asked Brin. That's what it sounded like, but he wanted to be sure.

Davi huffed. "Obviously. My best friend got grounded for three days, whose side should I be on?"

"I'm your best friend?" asked Brin. That was a position with a lot of responsibility, and honestly he wasn't sure if he was living up to it.

"I'm at your house every single day. Who else would it be? Do you not--"

"That's not it!” Brin said in a rush. "Obviously you’re my best friend. I just didn’t want to take it for granted that I’m your best friend. You’re one of the town’s golden children and the fact is that I'm… kind of weird. You know?"

"I'm weird, too. You're the only one who doesn't make me feel stupid for wanting to try my best. The adults like me I guess but they’re always telling me to slow down and people our age call me a try-hard. Cole says I'm exhausting to be around. You don't get exhausted. You pull me along behind you." Most people would be embarrassed or awkward in this kind of conversation, but Davi talked plainly, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world, like commenting on how the sky is blue or the grass is green.

"Thanks," said Brin. "Those kids are stupid. You’re one of the coolest people I’ve ever met. And I don't feel like I'm dragging you along. If anything, I just want to catch up to you."

Davi pushed Brin's shoulder. "Come on. Tell me the whole story."

Brin told the story.

He told the whole story, about how Tawna had done every little indirect and passive aggressive thing possible to screw with him, about how he'd hinted that it was possible that the [Witch] was a [Weaver], although he was very firm in the fact that he'd never actually accused her of anything, or even brought her name up for that matter.

He told the story, about how Hogg had given the Prefit an epic beatdown and how he'd been banned for 3 days. He even mentioned how the Prefit had come over and offered a half-apology. He omitted the stuff about sneaking into town and stealing stuff, of course, but he did talk about all the training Hogg had given him with attributes. Davi didn't need the Dexterity, and it was a longshot for him to earn Mental Control, but he still found it all interesting.

"You can get Mental Control from sitting around thinking about nothing? No wonder I don't have very much," he said.

'It's a bit more complicated than that, but yeah. I should be a lot higher in Mental Control than I am," said Brin. He hesitated, but decided to say a little more. He couldn't tell Davi everything, but he also wanted his friend to understand him at least a little better than he did. "I don't know everything that happened to me before... you know. But I really have a strong feeling that Mental Control is supposed to be my strong suit. I don't know why all my attributes were so low when I.... woke up. Maybe they were always low, or maybe something happened to get them taken away."

Davi nodded gravely. "That makes sense."

"No it doesn't," Brin said. Then he laughed. "I must sound crazy."

Davi shrugged.

Zilly found them next, and then he had to tell the entire story again. This time, he gave extra care to detail Zilly's quick thinking and heroism in running to fetch Hogg, to her intense satisfaction.

Marksi looked a little put out that his part in the story had been passed over, so Brin took great pains to play up Marksi's role in helping him train his Dexterity and Mental Control, and then together they showed Zilly and Davi all the commands that they'd taught each other. That was fine for Marksi’s commands to pick him up and come quickly, but then Marksi insisted on showing off how he could open doors and climb up to the top of a building with a rope in his mouth.

"Huh. Those would be really useful for a [Rogue]," said Zilly.

"Please. I'm not going to be a [Rogue]. I'm way too honest." For once, he was actually sort of telling the truth.

Zilly giggled. "Sure, Brin."

"That’s exactly what a [Rogue] would say, though," said Davi.

"You too, Davi?"

Marksi was chirping furiously, and running around in circles. Clearly, he wanted Brin to talk about their awesome adventures sneaking around robbing people. For once, Brin was glad that snakes couldn't talk. "Are you hungry, Marksi? You know, I bet they're selling those honey-coated grasshoppers."

Sadly, that actually was a thing here. They trotted them out in place of popcorn or roasted peanuts and sold them in little bark paper bags. They weren't even that bad if he could trick his brain into forgetting he was eating bugs. Normally he avoided them, but if it would get Marksi's mind off of Brin's little omission, then it would be worth it.

The adults were still mostly busy setting up, but a lady had already set up a booth and was doing good business. Brin bought three bags for his friends. It worked like a charm. Marksi immediately dunked his head into his bag and didn’t bother coming up for air.

He decided right there, that he was going to spend the rest of the day screwing around and having fun. A part of Brin screamed at him that he was wasting precious attribute-earning time, but he shoved it down. He could take one day off.

Yeah, he was excited for System Day, but in two weeks his second and hopefully last childhood would be officially over. He would probably miss days like this.

They ran into Myra and Tawna soon after. Tawna scanned the group once, but then walked away without a word like she hadn’t even noticed them.

Myra approached timidly, no doubt wondering if they were going to have a fight. Well, you couldn’t choose your parents. Besides, he’d already decided to enjoy today. He could fight with Myra any other day.

Brin held out his uneaten bag of grasshoppers. “Want some… what do you guys call these? Chapulines? I’m cutting Marksi off.”

She took them, and took them for the peace offering they were. “Thanks.” She gave him a slight smile, then walked over next to Zilly. Of course Zilly got the wrong message and stared at Brin with a bright smile and a raised eyebrow. He shook his head at her.

They wandered around town, played a coin toss game with a group of kids, played a beanbag game the adults set up. Brin saw some men playing a board game on the street and stopped to watch them play a game that looked like a cross between Go and Chess. They let him play the next round, and even though he lost quickly, he thought he really had a knack for it. The kids dragged him away before he could play again, but he promised himself he’d get a set. Maybe Hogg could play.

They watched one of Gustaff’s movies, bought more snacks, played more games, but mostly just clowned around. Myra didn’t have any new barbs for him; even she must’ve realized how ridiculous it was for her mom to try to get him pilloried.

The day passed quicker than he expected, and as night began to fall, lanterns were lit and the whole town descended on the square, now an impromptu dance hall.

The men lined up on one side, wearing their best formal clothes. At once, they bowed to the women.

The women were lined up on the other side. He saw Zilly and Myra there, with all the other women, each of them in their best formal dresses. They bowed back to the men.

They approached each other until they were close enough to just barely grasp the tips of each other's hands, and the dance began. The dance was fun, but it was ordered and civilized and painstakingly regimented. The children ran around in the darkness around the dancefloor, laughing and cavorting like animals.

The symbolism of it hit him all at once. He’d kind of know what it meant to be an adult in this town, but now it was written out plainly before him.

Soon, it wouldn’t be so simple for him and Davi to spend a carefree afternoon with Zilly and Myra.

Dating and courtship were very formal in this town. They didn’t trust in accidents of proximity; you had to go through the proper channels. It started with a conversation with the parents, and then every outing would be heavily supervised. Not that he cared about Myra, but Zilly was his friend. He had no interest in actually courting Zilly, but if he didn’t go through those channels, hanging around her at all would be seen as highly suspect.

Things would be different from now on. There was a lot to look forward to, but things would be different.

The circles shifted, and now Zilly was the one holding his hand. She smiled brightly at him, and made a mocking “O” of surprise when she noticed that he didn’t stumble his steps. Nothing had changed with her yet, at least. She was still just Zilly, and enjoying the moment. He laughed.

A bittersweet moment, and a fitting end to his night, and his childhood.

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