Interlude: Choose Your Path

I watched Sinclair and his companions vanish into the portal, their figures dissolving in a cascade of shimmering light. Their mission: to confront yet another manifestation of the Myrkr's corruption. These entities were becoming increasingly elusive, slipping through the fabric of reality like smoke through a sieve. Yet, as the world continued to heal and regain its strength, my task of hunting them down would ease. For now, though, vigilance remained paramount.

Through the window, I turned my gaze to the house beyond, where the remainder of Sinclair's family lingered. The warm spring air carried with it the faint scent of fresh grass and blooming wildflowers, a gentle reminder of the world's slow recovery. Their energy radiated readiness, anticipation for the trials to come. I'd listened in, as was my nature, and knew that they were poised for their tutorials. No time like the present to make my introduction.

Approaching the house, I let the soft crunch of my boots against the gravel trail announce my arrival before I reached the back door. The garden around the house was alive with the hum of bees and the occasional trill of a bird, a serene backdrop to my overly loud steps. Once at the door, I raised my staff and rapped, sharply, twice. The sound was met with the scrape of chairs and hushed voices within. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Bruce Hagerson, his expression an amusing mix of alarm and suspicion.

What Bruce saw—what I intended him to see—was a mysterious weathered figure, standing tall, a tattered robe hanging like a relic of bygone eras, brushing against tall leather boots. My wide-brimmed hat shadowed my face, while my staff, its surface worn smooth by centuries, glinted faintly in the dappled sunlight. A sight intended to unnerve any mortal.

"Bruce Hagerson," I intoned, my voice carrying the weight of epochs. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I suspect you already know who I am, but just in case you need clarification, you may call me Odin."

Bruce's throat bobbed as he visibly tried to swallow his trepidation. For a long moment, he seemed rooted to the spot, before a sudden realization jolted him into action. He stepped back, opening the door wide. "Hon, we've got a guest," he called over his shoulder, his voice betraying a slight tremor. "Odin is here."

Turning back to me, he gestured inside. "Please, come in. Excuse my manners—you caught me off guard."

Stepping into the warmth of the house, my senses took in the springtime light streaming through the windows, casting soft shadows over the dining room. The space, with its wooden furniture and earthy decor, exuded a rustic charm. Bruce's wife, Amelia, and daughter, Victoria, stood frozen near the table, their expressions mirroring Bruce's earlier alarm.

With a small wave of my hand, the air shimmered faintly, rippling as though disturbed by an unseen breeze. In an instant, the once-empty table was transformed into a sumptuous banquet. Platters of roasted boar, its skin crisp and glistening with golden honey glaze, took center stage. Beside it sat bowls of Sunstone berries, their jewel-like skins catching the light, and Mist fruit slices that glowed faintly, their translucent flesh exuding a soft, ethereal fragrance.

A mound of freshly baked bread, its crust speckled with flecks of salt and herbs, emitted a warm, yeasty aroma, mingling with the sharper, tangy scent of goat's cheese crumbled atop a bed of spring greens. Steaming tureens of spiced root vegetable stew, rich and earthy, sat alongside skewers of fire-grilled fish, their edges charred to perfection and brushed with a glaze of citrus and wild honey.

For drinks, a pair of pitchers anchored two corners of the table. One brimmed with a crimson elixir, its surface swirling faintly as if alive; this was a concoction of crushed Moonberries and fermented starfruit. The other pitcher held a golden ale, frothy, fragrant and brewed with hints of clover and fire flower. Its aroma carried the faintest whisper of smoky warmth.

The spring breeze, laden with the scent of wildflowers and freshly turned earth, wafted through the open window, the smell blending seamlessly with the feast's tantalizing aromas. Each dish radiated not only a visual allure but a magnetic warmth, as if imbued with a subtle magic to invite curiosity and indulgence.

I gestured toward the chairs, my voice calm yet firm. "Sit, eat, and refresh yourselves. We have much to discuss."

Amelia was the first to break out of her shock, her composure returning with remarkable speed. "That is a handy skill to have," she said, her voice warm but still tinged with awe. "This all looks very delicious. Thank you for sharing with us."

Victoria, seated beside me, gulped audibly as she steeled her nerves, her hands gripping the edge of her chair for a moment before she exhaled and relaxed. With a quick, soft-spoken "Thank you," she dug in after I motioned for her to begin. Her hunger seemed to outweigh her apprehension, and she eagerly sampled the spread before her.

I smiled at the young one, her resolve and courage reminding me of her brother. There was strength and promise in her—a spark that could be cultivated into something great. This entire line, it seemed, carried remarkable potential. My gaze shifted to Bruce and Amelia, who sat across the table, their postures more guarded as they assessed me. The weight of what was to come rested heavily on their shoulders, though they bore it with admirable restraint.

Turning my attention fully to them, I began to outline what was to happen next, ensuring my tone was measured and clear. They needed to understand the urgency without succumbing to panic.

"As you may know, I have the ability to shape your tutorials to fit your needs," I began. "Sinclair and the others underwent what might best be called a 'hard-difficulty' trial. They had more time to train beforehand, making such a challenge appropriate. Unfortunately, you do not have that luxury. With the current state of the world, you have perhaps two days before the System fully comes online and reshapes everything. However, if you enter your tutorials immediately, I would be able to increase the time dilation you experienced, giving you time to gain both a class and path, meaning you would, like your son and brother, and his friends, have a significant head start on the rest of humanity."

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Bruce cleared his throat, his brow furrowed as he processed my words. "What happens if we don't get through in time? Say we manage to get a class but not a path—what then?"

I met his gaze directly, my tone firm, but not unkind. "When the System comes online, you will be returned here automatically, regardless of your progress. From that point, you would have to find your way forward like any other person born under the System. It is a slower, more arduous process. And given the current state of the world, you may not have the time or the stability to safely navigate that path. That is why I implore you to take this seriously and make every effort to complete your tutorials before the System activates."

Amelia and Bruce exchanged a glance, the weight of the decision evident in their expressions. I continued, not wanting to lose their focus.

"For Sinclair," I said, "I pushed him through additional trials to truly test his mettle and determine who he was. For the three of you, I can streamline the process. Your trials will still be challenging, but they will be structured to allow for advancement and the acquisition of both your class and path within the limited time available."

Victoria, who had been eating quietly, paused to look up at me. "Will we be able to help Sinclair once we've completed this?" she asked, her voice carrying both hope and determination.

"You will," I assured her. "Once you emerge from the tutorials with your class and path, you will be far better equipped to stand alongside Sinclair and face the challenges that lie ahead. But first, you must focus on yourselves and the tasks before you. Only then will you be able to offer him meaningful support."

I let the words hang in the air, their significance sinking in as the family absorbed the gravity of what was being asked of them. The soft hum of spring outside, the occasional trill of a bird, and the scent of blossoming flowers through the open window were the only interruptions to the silence that followed.

Victoria leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly together, her gaze unwavering. "What if I wanted my tutorial to be as hard as theirs?" she asked, her voice steady but earnest. "Would I get a better class or path if I pushed myself that way?"

I turned to her, meeting her eyes squarely, the weight of her question evident in the stillness that followed. "The chances of you completing a hard tutorial like theirs in the time you have are exceedingly low," I began, my tone firm but measured. "But yes, pushing yourself harder does improve the likelihood of earning a better class. There will be combat in your tutorial if you choose that route, and the dangers will be very real. The standard tutorial, like the one your parents will undergo, includes some martial training but does not carry the same level of lethality or intensity. Are you certain you want this, knowing what it entails?"

Bruce and Amelia's eyes shifted to their daughter, but they didn't speak. Their silence was not disinterest; it was trust. In the way they exchanged glances and held back any protest, their belief in Victoria's judgment was clear. They wouldn't stop her if this was truly her decision.

Victoria remained quiet for several long moments, her expression thoughtful yet resolute. When she spoke, her voice carried a firmness that left no room for doubt. "I want this," she said, her words steady and filled with purpose. "I can do it. Please set mine to the same difficulty as the others."

There was steel in her tone and a quiet resolve that stirred something deep within me. She was strong, and in that moment, I believed she might succeed where others would falter.

I glanced at her parents again, seeking any hint of dissent, but they simply nodded, their silent affirmation speaking volumes. Turning back to Victoria, I inclined my head slightly. "Very well, young one. I wish you the best in your struggles and will keep an eye on you throughout. Remember, the challenges ahead will test you in ways you cannot yet imagine."

I shifted my attention back to Bruce and Amelia. "Do either of you have any further questions?" I asked, my tone returning to its even cadence.

By now, we had been sitting for nearly an hour, discussing the intricacies of the System and their upcoming tutorials while enjoying the spread of food I had provided. The spring sunlight filtering through the windows had begun to shift, casting longer shadows across the room. It was a rare moment of connection, and I found myself savoring it more than I expected. It had been so long since I had shared such a moment with mortals, speaking as equals. There was a bittersweetness to it as well—a familiar ache for my own wife and children, whose fates remained unknown to me.

Bruce, Amelia, and Victoria exchanged glances, their expressions calm and determined. It was Amelia who finally spoke, a gentle smile gracing her face. "No, that's enough for us. I think we should get started. Sinclair left us armor and gear so we'd be ready for this. I just need to leave him a note, letting him know where we've gone and what's happening."

She rose and moved to a nearby hutch, retrieving a sheet of paper and a pen. The soft scratch of her writing was the only sound in the room for a moment as the family members prepared themselves mentally and physically for what lay ahead.

Rising to my feet, I let my gaze linger on each of them—Bruce, steady and resolute; Amelia, calm and composed; Victoria, fierce and determined. "Prepare yourselves," I said, my voice carrying the weight of both command and encouragement. "When you are ready, accept your tutorial teleport and do your best. The trials ahead will demand everything from you, but I have faith in your potential."

I paused, allowing the gravity of the moment to settle over the room. "I wish you all the best in your trials. May you emerge stronger, wiser, and ready for the challenges to come."

Stepping back from the table, I adjusted my staff and turned toward the door. The spring air outside felt alive, vibrant with the energy of a world on the cusp of monumental change. The scent of wildflowers and fresh grass mingled with the distant hum of bees—a tranquil backdrop that belied the storm about to descend.

Before crossing the threshold, I looked back one final time. "Remember," I said, my voice softer now, "the strength you seek lies not just in power or skill, but in your will to endure and persevere. Trust in each other, and you will find your way."

With that, I stepped out into the bright light of the day, leaving them to their preparations. The road ahead was theirs to walk, but I would be watching, ready to guide if needed. For now, though, they stood on their own—a family bound by shared determination and the promise of something greater.

The door closed gently behind me, and as I walked away, the whispers of their voices faded into the gentle rustle of the spring breeze. Somewhere, far beyond this moment, the threads of their fate intertwined with the fabric of the world, ready to be tested in the fires of the System.

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