System Reset

Consumed by his thoughts, Ramsey absentmindedly navigated a path between tavern patrons to a vacant back corner table.

'Increased gravity can reset itself.

Decreased gravity must be controlled. 

But why did I keep rising? It shouldn't work that way. I should've just floated like an astronaut in space. I'll have to be extremely careful.

…Unless I use it as a weapon.'

Imagining lessening the gravity of monsters and launching them into the stratosphere made the corners of his mouth creep up. It was almost too easy.

'I need to see what happens if I push further. If I can-'

"Yoohoo, hello," Anya waved leaning over the table. 

"Oh… sorry," Ramsey looked up.

"What can I get ya?" She smiled, fiddling with one of her long braids. 

"I guess whatever the special is today, please. And some ale."

"I wouldn't call it special," she laughed and turned toward the kitchen. "Armyn! Fish and flors!"

It was easy to see how Anya captured the hearts of many locals. She reminded Ramsey of a certain tomb raiding character, only with softer doll-like features and piercing green eyes. 

Returning with a tankard of ale, she added, "It'll be a few minutes on the food."

"Ah, Miss Anya, can I ask you a question?"

Her posture changed, as if preparing herself for yet another pick up line.

After surveying the room, he softly asked,"Do you know much about magic?" 

Intrigued by the mysterious nature of the question, she took a seat across from Ramsey.

"Hmm. Well, aside from what they teach in school, I only know the exaggerated stories from the local guild houses. Their members," she nodded toward a group clad in green coats, "like to come here frequently, drink, and tell tall tales. I listen, as long as they keep buying drinks."

She looked down at Ramsey's common attire, "You don't seem like one of them. Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious if you had ever heard of a gravity mage?"

"Of course. Well… just the one everybody knows. The former Queen's Guard, but you'd do well not to talk about him too much."

"Oh, yes, of course. I was wondering about any others," he laughed.

"Sorry," Anya stood up, "not really my expertise. I'll be back with your food," she waved.

Assuming that Anya had met her fair share of mages and listened to countless embellished stories, only knowing about a single gravity mage was concerning.

Even more unsettling, that one mage had seemingly lost his position and become a taboo topic of conversation.

Ramsey glanced at the trio of well tailored green coats, their shoulders embroidered with a pearlescent white fist.

He wondered if the guilds had differing values, with some being more accepting of his path than others. Or was the reason for their division simply the inherent quality shared by the powerful - greed.

Not that Ramsey was the altruistic type. He yearned to be independently wealthy as much as any blue collar worker. But the people at the top seldom shared with or cared about people at the bottom.

"Hey pal, you got a problem?" One of the guild members had caught him staring. His raised eyebrow was split by a scar which continued onto his cheek.

"No, sorry, I was just admiring your coats," Ramsey assured.

The man scoffed, then returned his attention to his drink.

Not a moment too soon a plate of fried food hit the table, "You sure have a way of getting people's attention, uhh…," unsure if she'd gotten his name.

"Ramsey," he said.

"Well, Ramsey, enjoy your food. And a word of advice," she leaned in and whispered, "try not to give them a reason."

Trusting her recommendation, Ramsey focused on his food and returned to his thoughts. 

He needed to devise a way to take the next step in his training. 

***

The dawn of the next morning found Ramsey leaning against Last Chance Supplies waiting for them to open.

His second night's rest had been cut short by thoughts of his dwindling funds and inevitable homelessness.

And considering that both plans he'd thought of started here, why wait?

The door jerked open accompanied by a joyous bell, which matched the expression on the teen's face. "Are you back to buy more statues?"

"What? God..s no," Ramsey shook his head as he walked past the boy into the shop.

"So this is him, huh?" A resonant voice questioned as he turned a corner toward the counter. Looking up, the beast of a man surprised him. He was at least a head taller, with bulging muscles stretching his shirt to its limits, he wouldn't have thought them related if not for the matching haircut and color. "You bought one of Creepy Carra's statues."

"Dad! Don't call her that! She's... unique."

"Oh, relax," he waved dismissively, then loudly whispered behind his hand, "He's got a bit of a thing for the gloomy ones."

'Been there,' Ramsey kept his thoughts to himself.

"But I'm surprised to see you back after the deal he worked over on you," he said looking over Ramsey's hand-me-downs, "but, we're glad to have you. What are you looking for?"

"Several items," he withdrew a torn journal page from his pocket and handed it to the man.

This shopping trip would consume most of his remaining coin, leaving him with only enough for a couple basic meals. And sadly, none of it was guaranteed to work.

"I'm not sure what some of these measurements mean," the giant man stroked his chiseled chin, "but we can help you."

Ramsey toured the towering aisles of miscellaneous goods while the father and son duo prepared his order. 

Among the various odds and ends, a couple prospective purchases caught his attention, not that he could afford them.

On display and out of reach was a scroll map of the region, unfurled enough to show the sprawling capital at its center. It was highly detailed and given the thickness of the unrolled parchment, appeared quite expansive. 

The other item of interest was a book on plants called Poisons and Provisions. 

Not knowing Elorr's flora and fauna had only been slightly inconvenient so far. Trusting the food made by others was easy. And he had learned that flors were a reddish root vegetable like a potato.

'If it comes to surviving on my own, a guide would be helpful.'

"Alright," a booming voice called, "you're all set. Come see us again soon."

Thanking them both, Ramsey collected the overflowing bags of supplies and returned to his room. The next part of his plan started here, and should work on its own while he continued elsewhere.

He laid a long shallow pan on the floor, which was then filled with a jug of liquid and a small bag of white granules. 

The liquid was vinegar, not the clear distilled kind he was familiar with using, but vinegar, no less. It had existed on Earth for thousands of years, and when Ramsey noticed jarred food on the store shelves, he knew it was here as well.

Vinegar was a natural rust remover, but it took time, around 24 hours in his experience. However, he knew from previous restorations that adding salt would transform the acetic acid in vinegar to hydrochloric acid. The result would be the same, only the hydrochloric acid worked faster, which is exactly what he needed. 

Admiring the rusty version of Thorn for the last time, he placed it in the solution. 

'In a few hours, I'll try to make you like new again.'

Readying items for the next phase, he pulled a wire brush, a small jar of oil, and a sharpening stone from the shopping bags. All that remained of his purchases were a few items intended to help with his training. 

Gathering his things, Ramsey set out, leaving the safety of the town in search of a secluded spot far from the path.

Walking back upstream, which he now believed to be south, he crossed the creek at a rocky shallow area, continuing west for another 20 minutes. There he found an outcropping of trees surrounding the dried remnants of a pond.

'It's perfect.'

He looked up, seeing the sun overhead and estimated about 5 hours until he needed to head back.

'Maybe 4… I can't get caught out here without a weapon.'

At the center of the concave seclusion, Ramsey unceremoniously dumped the remaining contents of the bag onto the ground. A series of clangs rang out as several large metal spikes, a horseshoe, and a spool of rope settled in a pile.

One by one Ramsey grabbed the spikes and stabbed them into the ground, creating a 6 foot circle. 

He sat in the center of the circle and closed his eyes. During his bloom he felt the increased gravity of the washtub, but its travel was impeded by the floor. Then the mattress had compressed during his first test, but it was not as suitable for small objects.

He had considered sitting on his floor surrounded by coins, but how would he know if he was successful? Like the washtub, they had nowhere to go.

With this setup, he had objects within his range that could be visibly moved, driven deeper into the ground.

Letting out a slow and extended breath, Ramsey focused on his base gravity. He began breathing in sync with his attempts to increase the repetitions. 

In only 3 breaths he began to feel the pressure.

In 5 breaths his shoulders slumped involuntarily.

In 8 breaths his posture was becoming difficult to hold.

'Maintain… this much,' he struggled to divide his concentration between his thoughts and actions. The crushing force wavered briefly, but he held it.

'Now, reach out!'