Right before class, over breakfast, Zane finally got a reply from Leon. The linguist showed interest in working together, but he also told Zane that the information he could provide was useless. However, Leon said that it might help if he could access writing samples from the Necromancer; the samples don't have to contain any valuable information or magical knowledge; it just needs to be things he has written, examples of his writing style, voice, etc.
Zane was fine with this. After all, the journals didn't just include the Necromancer's experimental records; they also recorded his thought process, and many entries were just a regular journal about things he had experienced. One of the reasons Zane concluded the Necromancer was insane was also because of these entries.
Zane replied to Leon that he would get back to him after asking if such an exchange was permitted. As for the issue of compensation? Leon already said they could talk about it if he proved helpful. After class, Zane talked with Professor Burbank, who not only agreed but also praised his approach. According to the professor, analysts often worked with linguists as their work intertwined more often than not.
In the afternoon, Zane did not study in the library; instead, he headed to the Tattoo Club for his appointment. Today, he was there to have his Lion Pride tattoo removed. The process was straightforward: a male elf, covered in tattoos except for his handsome face, put a patch on his chest; it burned for half an hour, then the elf rinsed it off, and the tattoo was gone.
Zane approached one of the full-length mirrors in the room and checked his chest. Besides a slight red mark, nothing remained. He gently caressed the spot, remembering when he first got it. After more than four years in a maximum-security prison, he was transferred to minimum security for the last year, which is where he met Boss Mike.
And that's where he made the worst mistake of his life by trusting that bastard and telling him about his past. After knowing Zane was or had the potential to be a good hacker, Boss Mike — who could be considered middle-level management in the Lion Pride — insisted on bringing him in. Of course, Zane refused; he didn't want to live the rest of his life as a criminal.
Boss Mike wasn't the kind of man who accepted no for an answer. So, he threatened Zane's life and even his family. And after understanding what type of power the Lion Pride had, Zane softened. After a back-and-forth, Zane agreed to do three jobs for Lion Pride, and then he'd be done; Boss Mike accepted, but insisted Zane get the tattoo.
"The moment those bastards branded me, I knew there was no way I could escape their grasp," Zane thought. He tried his best to pretend he was living in Boston, and after doing the three things, he disappeared and cut all contact with them. Unfortunately, he had revealed too much information back when he trusted Mike, so the Lion Pride only took a year to find him.
"Now, it's different," Zane thought, clenching his left fist. His eyes turned fierce: "If they don't accept my departure, I will slowly hunt all of them down and slaughter them like dogs."
"Why do you have such a murderous aura? Are you planning on doing something?"
"Uh," Zane uttered, turning to look at the elf, unable to process what the latter was saying.
"Don't do it. No matter how you think you might get away with it, you won't."
"I'm not planning on doing anything."
"Then, why do you have such an intense murderous aura?"
"I was just thinking about some past unpleasantness," Zane replied. "Anyway, is it safe for me to get another tattoo?"
The tattooed elf glanced at him for a while. "There should be no issue as long as you wait three hours."
"Good to hear." Zane put his shirt back on before leaving. He had already handed his design to the club to hand to whoever his artist would be tomorrow, along with the payments. The removal cost 50 gold coins, but the tattoo itself only cost 17 coins. Afterward, Zane's schedule returned to normal.
Elite Class:
As Zane walked in, he immediately noticed Evelyn talking to the sergeant. He decided to wait for her while he stretched, and as soon as the conversation ended and she headed toward Keesha, he approached them.
"Well?" Keesha asked.
"His situation is the same as you two," Evelyn said. "And one of his roommates was in the Elite Class — he ranked tenth. But he was replaced in the last tournament."
Zane and Keesha nodded.
"You still haven't told me why you want to know these things?"
"Well?" Keesha said, looking at Zane.
"We want to verify information about the High Potential List," Zane said, explaining what little he knew about the list.
"I didn't know you were such a good liar," Keesha said. "Is that another defensive mechanism?"
"How is that a lie?" Zane rebutted.
"A lie of omission is still a lie."
"And I'm starting to realize you're too trusting, and maybe not as reliable as I thought." Zane turned, preparing to walk away.
"You're deflecting."
"I'm pretty sure you're not using that term correctly."
"Did I miss something? What's going on?" Evelyn asked.
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Patient-Client Confidentiality."
Evelyn was speechless. However, after seeing the serious look on her friend's face, she didn't ask again.
Wednesday, Day 40:
Zane arrived on time for the tattoo, and to his surprise, his tattooist was still the previous elf. Unlike yesterday, the man looked more solemn and was more direct. After showing Zane a final rendering of the design and choosing a spot — the right chest — the elf immediately began his work. The entire process took half an hour, which was ridiculously fast, and it was not nearly as painful as it should have been. Zane suspected the machine used was probably enchanted.
"It's so clear and vivid," Zane immediately commented as he glanced at the final product. His skin was a shade between light skin and brown; he could go either way. However, the tattoo and all the colors were easily distinguishable. In fact, he suspects that would be the case even if he were a few shades darker.
"I love this dimension's designs, but your development of ink is terrible — especially for people of darker shades. It's truly baffling," the elf said, shaking his head.
"It's not baffling. In fact, the cause is simple: racism," Zane casually said. Many tattoo artists don't know how to shade properly for dark skin, which is why tattoos on dark skin are often hard to see. "Most of our problems can actually be reduced to that single word."
"Inequality is the bane of all civilization," the elf sighed deeply.
"You sound like you have a story."
"Who doesn't?"
"True," Zane nodded. "Well, I —" Zane suddenly felt dizzy; well, dizzy might not be the right word. His mind felt shaken, as if he had just been forcibly connected to something. The surrounding sound dissipated, and Zane stuttered around, almost falling to the ground.
"What-what's going on?"
"Altar…Altar…Worship."
"Who's speaking?"
"Guardian…Altar…Worship."
"Guardian? You're Anansi?" Zane asked, realizing the voice spoke in Akan.
"Altar…Worship."
"You want me to get an altar for you to worship?"
"…Yes."
"Alright, but you have to wait until I return to Earth."
No one answered Zane, but he had regained his bearings. The world or his senses were no longer acting up, and he could now perceive his surroundings.
"Are you alright?"
"I-I'm fine."
"That's good." The elf nodded before releasing him. "Your name is Zane, right?"
"Hm, yes."
"Tell me: why is someone talented enough to directly communicate with spirits not a shaman?"
"I was recommended to be a Mage because of my personality."
"I see." The elf nodded. "Are you interested in signing up for my class next month?"
"Uh?"
"Oh, where are my manners. My name is Respen Endi, a 2-ring Mage. Besides being a tattoo artist, I'm also one of the teachers for [Introduction to Runescribe]. So, what do you think? Do you want to sign up for my class next month?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"The key to being a good Runescribe is the soul and mental energy. And I'm willing to bet those two are your strong suits."
"They are," Zane admitted.
"Good. So, how about it?"
"I appreciate the offer, but I want to be an Alchemist."
"Hey, what's the point of deciding so swiftly? You could try both first and then decide; they don't have to be exclusive. In fact, the two professions overlapped in many areas."
"I'll consider it," Zane said, feeling this man would not easily take no for an answer.
"That's the spirit. How about we exchange crests?"
"Alright.