The Succubus

10

Disregarding defense and leaning to a fully offensive strategy, he no longer conserved his energy and, instead, bet everything on the exchange. He tried to push her into a particular trap without being too obvious. The flurry of blows kept Dena on the defensive until Matt used the rebound of her blocking a side slash to step left and forward, closing in on her. He brought the longsword around with every last drop of power and speed he could muster.

Matt was 5'10, and Dena was only 5'8, maybe 5'9. It meant Matt held the slightest reach advantage even before their weapon choice came into play. Dena was more experienced and faster than him, though. As the blade swept in, she danced back from the blow.

His desperate plan failed. Matt wanted to curse but couldn't waste the breath. As he surged forward to follow up, Dena just kept retreating, holding her hands up.

Matt halted, fear gripping him.

I didn't hit her. Is she just calling it now because I wasn't good enough?

The next words he heard shocked him, “Well done, Matt! I knew you had it in you.”

Off to the side, Eric even clapped a few times.

Matt was flabbergasted. He missed. They claimed it wasn't charity, but what was this obvious faking of a hit? At least they could have made it more convincing.

“I didn't hit you, though?” Matt protested. Somehow, charity from these two felt worse than failure.

Dena grinned broadly and raised her right arm to reveal her side. “Think again! You grazed me right here.”

Matt saw nothing, but Eric nodded right along.

“You don't have to sponsor me. I couldn't make my part of the deal, so you don't have to feel—”

“Matt! You did hit me. Look!”

Dena reached down and pulled the workout shirt over her head. Matt couldn't help but stare, she was only wearing a sports bra now, and she had a light sheen of perspiration on her athletic body that reflected the light. She had freckles that ran down her upper chest down to her—

Matt jerked his eyes up to meet their combined smirks and felt his face flush hot.

Pale skin and a trail of freckles tempted him to look down again but, with an effort of willpower he didn't know he had, Matt kept his eyes on hers.

Dena had righted the shirt and showed him a small mark under the right armpit. Matt had to squint, but he could see it, if barely. A small diagonal line was only distinguishable from the fabric’s weave because it didn’t run parallel.

He had done it!

That was truly the smallest of strikes, but it was all he needed. Relief washed through him. As the stress of failing left him, his body wanted to collapse, being hopped up on adrenaline no longer enough to keep him standing.

Matt turned to Eric and Dena's smiling faces. Eric tossed Matt a small bag he definitely hadn’t been holding before. “Well, congratulations, Matt. You did what most can’t even dream of. Striking a person two Tiers up is one hell of an accomplishment.”

“I don't know how I can repay you both.”

Dena waved him off before he could continue. “Advancing will be more than enough thanks. Let alone the rewards we’ll get the more you progress. But if you really want to pay us back, pay it forward once you get the chance. When you get to Tier 5, you can recommend someone for the same program. Don't waste it, but don't forget about it either.”

“In the bag, I left you more instructions and a train ticket.”

As Eric spoke, Matt managed to turn to him. Keeping his eyes off the woman standing not two feet away was a challenge.

Eric didn’t seem to mind. “Though, you might want to get moving. The train leaves at eight, and the station isn't exactly next door. Unless you’d like to spend more time here, maybe?”

That statement cut through the cacophony of thoughts in Matt's head.

Not next door… That's an understatement. If I leave now, I'll still have to run at least part way to make it.

Matt gaped at them, unable to express his gratitude.

Dena took pity on him. “Best get a move on. I know I look good, but I don’t think I look so good you’d pass up an opportunity to bail on this dump.”

Matt flushed hot again, but her teasing also spurred him into action. Calling his thanks over his shoulder, Matt snatched up the pad from next to the wall and ran to his room. Then he had to find Benny to tell him he was done.

Freedom awaited.

 

   

Matt dashed down the road. A train couldn’t be seen in the station, and he was terrified it had arrived and left early. Checking the pad clenched in his hands, the time only said 7:32 a.m., but he couldn’t shake the fear he’d be stranded here.

He pulled up to the station with a torrent of sweat rolling down his back. Bouncing on his back was the pack holding his clothes and the few other possessions he had to his name.

He joined the small line at the teller's booth. As he waited, Matt opened the small bag Eric had tossed to him. Inside was an envelope and a few other odds and ends. At the bottom, hidden by the envelope, he found the train ticket.

After retrieving the precious paper, Matt carefully closed the pouch and waited his turn. He'd explore the other contents of the bag later when he could sit and dedicate his full attention to it.

When the person in front of him walked to the waiting area, Matt moved forward and handed the ticket over to the man behind the glass. The clerk scanned it and reviewed their screen. “One cabin to Durham. No transfers. Do you have any luggage you want to check into storage?” The man’s eyes never even peeked away from his screen while he recited the question.

“No, thank you.”

“Well, in that case, you have a four-day trip ahead of you. Two meals will be provided per day. You can choose what meals you take. You'll have to go to the food cars near the front and rear of the train. Any questions?” The man mechanically pushed a new slip of paper out of the small window, his attention still not wandering from the screen.

Matt took the slip, said he didn't, and thanked the man before walking to the seating area.

With no train in sight, he stowed the boarding pass in the pocket with his pad and found a restroom to freshen up. His earlier sparring session and run to the station had left him in a grimy state.

Keeping an ear out for his train’s announcement, Matt hurried through his ablutions, still anxious he'd miss the train. After only another ten minutes of tense waiting, the train finally pulled into the station. Only a few people departed, and then the boarding call started.

Handing his pass to the man at the door, he was directed to car twelve, room two. Matching the room number to the one on his boarding pass, Matt was prompted to scan his pass and pair the door key with his pad or AI to secure the room from unwanted guests.

The room was small but more than enough for his uses. Matt dropped his pack of clothes to the side and carefully poured the contents of Eric’s pouch onto the bed.

Starting with the envelope, Matt opened it and read the letter inside.

Matt,

We are so happy you earned this opportunity. You are hard-working and dedicated to improving yourself, traits rarer than you probably think. We will be leaving as soon as you are on your way, so don't bother trying to find us. It's harsh, but if you have too much contact with your sponsor, it spoils a lot of sponsees. You are meant to find your own path. It's called The Path of Ascension because it's only wide enough for one. Don't be afraid to make unconventional choices. Learn from others but don't treat anyone's advice like it's the only truth, even this advice.

You are on a good start, believe it or not. You may think you’re behind because you spent a year working at Benny's, but most places don't perform the Awakening ceremony until late fourteen at the earliest, anyway, and don't let people delve until fifteen. Emotional maturity will keep you alive in a rift as much as strength once you arrive at the PlayPen.

Matt was struck dumb. Arrive at the PlayPen? It was true, then. A part of him had thought they'd be covering the ten thousand credits to get a delve slot, not getting him into the PlayPen, no matter what they had said. He still remembered how Miles talked about the PlayPen like a desire that couldn't be fulfilled.

He continued reading.

Once you arrive at the PlayPen, take the intro course and what they recommend there. It's been quite a while since we were under Tier 3, so it's a little fuzzy, but only the best are chosen to staff a PlayPen. It's a prestigious position, even on a low Tier world like Lilly. You can trust their advice, though you should think critically about everything you hear.

I do recall you will get a slot in the rift once every three days. Be careful. They will have true healers on staff, but it's expensive. Though you shouldn't have a problem with getting injured with your skills if you are careful and patient. We gave you permission to immediately start delving because, with your combat ability, it shouldn't be hard for you to solo a Tier 1 rift. If you don't get cocky.

Well, and that skill shard you swiped should help a lot.

The letter slipped from his hands. The earlier shock at going to the PlayPen was replaced with dread.

They saw that and still gave me this?

Matt gulped and, with far more nerves than before, continued.

Well, and that skill shard you swiped should help a lot. It's a good skill to pair with your Talent and, no, sponsors can’t see a sponsee's Tier 1 Talent until they are accepted, but we can feel your mana pool when you use items. Eric and I both feel that, even if you don't get a paired Tier 3 Talent, you can strive to get the Tier 25 Talent, even with this handicap. Though we find it unlikely. AND DON'T DIRECT CULTIVATE PHYSICAL UNTIL TIER 3!!!!!

Back to the shard, don't feel bad. You took an opportunity placed in front of you and made it out successfully. Being willing to take a risk is important, and knowing your limits is crucial. You took both into account and won. Besides, if the idiot didn't make a scene and throw a fucking expensive skill shard to start a brawl, he wouldn't have lost it.

That's on him, and if you hadn't tried to get the old man out of harm's way at the cost of your own safety, you wouldn't have been in the position to profit. Karma was working fast yesterday.

The handwriting style changed and became sloppier.

Eric here. That was a slick palming. The only reason I noticed (Dena completely missed it!!!) was because we were watching to make sure no one killed you by accident. But it was a good plan, and well-executed!! Just had to say that. Good luck and visit the—

Whatever the last word Eric had tried to write had been scratched out to the point it was illegible. And the handwriting went back to the loopy style of Dena.

Don't go to places like that. He's just trying to live vicariously through you because he knows if he went to one, I'd go to one in revenge, and neither one of us wants that.

Matt had to pause.

What the hell are they talking about?

Anyway, good luck. You got this.

Best Wishes,

Dena and Eric Thorne.

PS: I forgot because of Eric stealing the pen. Look up 'the curve.' It will be informative. While you're on the train, just focus on absorbing the skill shard. When you get to the PlayPen, buy a newer pad. The ones they sell there are Empire standard, and that means they're twenty-plus years ahead of the best this planet otherwise has.

PPS: Also, the card has a 20k limit, so buy a good weapon and don't be afraid to go into a bit of debt in the beginning. The PlayPen should have a budgeting class. Take it.

PPPS: PSs are fun.

Matt was surprised to hear they’d been watching out for him in the brawl. He hadn't been looking for them but, then again, he hadn't seen them either. It felt good, like a warmth in his chest he hadn't known since before the rift break.

Playing with the piece of plastic, he inspected the credit card. He'd never even thought of owning one before. No bank would risk loaning to someone under Tier 3 or without a backer.

Which I guess I have now.

Now, he had a credit limit twice what it would have cost to buy a slot in Glesie. It felt unreal.

Matt inspected the last few things in the bag. One was the mana control ball Eric had been practicing with for so long. It was a nice gesture, and a good reminder that even if he couldn't allocate into his mana cultivation, he could still work on control.

Once he got more mana, that was.

For the first time, that didn’t sound like an outlandish dream. Two Tier 5s thought the problem would fix itself with his Tier 3 Talent, and he trusted their expertise more than his own.

The last gift was a pair of gloves like the ones he saw Dena use but in his size.

Are they special?