With her den done, it was time to move on to the real start of the show: the well. Abbyton was considered remote and out of the way. If people didn’t have specific business with the abbey, there really wasn’t a reason to visit the surrounding town. That being said, Melia wasn’t so tone deaf that she didn’t realize the fresh influx of visitors wasn’t partially her fault. She would claim it was all her fault, between her construction projects and opening the dungeon, but even if it only opened after she used her key, Melia was hesitant to claim a dungeon.
A very real, very powerful goddess had told Melia, personally, that it was a pet project of hers. Chaos was in charge of every dungeon, so the adventurers crowding the abbey were partially her fault.
Melia got permission to “improve” the well, which was almost past its limit when serving the abbey itself. Technically, Abbyton had its own set of wells, but none of those were close enough to affect the abbey or the [Greenhouse]. So long as she didn’t make things worse, she was allowed to do whatever she wanted, and the Matron had expressed approval after verifying the quality of her previous builds.
Melia very briefly debated clarifying the Matron’s definition of “worse,” but thought better of it. Her craftsmanship was top quality, so there was no way anything she made would be lower quality than an old cylinder of bricks rising out of the ground, but what came after she made her moonwell might be a different story. Melia could see a world where [Alchemists] and [Tailors] also visited the abbey to use the purifying waters of a genuine [Moonwell], and that would be an extra load of people the abbey might need to support.
The first order of business was locating the well, which wasn’t all that bad since Melia had used it to be doused with water after making a mess of herself and the large kitchen pots weren’t available. It was north of the abbey but south of her [Greenhouse], fairly close to where the small river ran through the valley. It was a plain, hand-dug hole about 40 or so feet deep and approximately 3 feet in diameter. A small housing sat above ground, a cylinder of bricks with a wooden framework made of two old posts and a crossbeam, where a wooden bucket hung from a long, coiled rope.
In Melia’s opinion, the whole thing needed to go. For starters, accessibility was atrocious. If Melia wanted to do her own laundry, she’d have to balance precariously on the rim of the well and fight with a bucket half her size attached to a rope that wasn’t even pulley-assisted. Whoever built the well expected anyone who used it to simply man up and haul the bucket full of water with their own arm strength. On top of being a leverage nightmare, Melia was at a huge risk of simply falling in. While the well might make for a serviceable pool of water for her to soak in, the water level itself was actually quite low compared to the housing, so if she did fall, she’d need to somehow find a way to get out.
Hypothetically, of course, since Melia had excellent balance, and even if she did fall, she could claw her way up a sheer cliff.
It wouldn’t have mattered in the game, since nobody cared about a decorative piece like this in a town of npcs, but in real life, the well was getting old. The bricks were chipped or cracked, the posts were splintered and sun-bleached, and the rope connecting the bucket was frayed in multiple places and, in one section, had a knot that was probably impossible to remove. Yes, this thing was several decades (if not centuries) overdue for an uplift.
Now, Melia didn’t know the science behind wells. She theorized that the well itself needed to be below the water table so that moisture could seep into the dug-out ditch and fill with water. In the case of modern plumbing with pumps, maybe a mechanism was submerged into a body of water itself and used electricity to force the water somewhere it normally had no right to be. She couldn’t explain it or recreate it from scratch even if she wanted to.
Instead, she trusted in the magic of the System…which let a thing like a moonwell exist in the first place. Though they shared the same name, a moonwell and a normal well would not look very similar at a glance. As stated, a normal well, like the abbey’s, was a rudimentary structure set above a hole in the ground. A moonwell looked closer to a natural spring.
On top of that, moonwells were the exclusive infrastructure of the elves and could not be found outside of the Everbloom. They embodied nature, serenity, and above all, the moon. Moonwells didn’t just preserve the natural beauty around them; they actively influenced it. So much so that, within the small domain that was the actual body of water inside its boundaries, day changed to night, no matter what time it was, and stars could always be seen in the sky above. It was said that Lunaria herself blessed the elves and gave them their first moonwell, in which they could cleanse themselves from the taint of sin.
Sin sounded like a strong word to Melia, but if she rationalized it from a lore standpoint, it made sense. In the beginning, the elves were sorely tempted by fel magics and summoned many eldritch beings in their pursuit of greater power. This corrupted the otherwise serene and peaceful elves, turning them into enraged savages and nearly bringing them to ruin. Several dungeons hinted at such a history, including the [Fel Court], a ruined elvish city infested by tainted growth and otherworldly demons.
Melia wasn’t concerned with corruption, as she didn’t think her magic was compatible with that of the Old Ones, and even if it was, she put it on even odds that she could simply eat them.
Sadly, building the new well meant getting rid of the old one, so Melia sent a quick word of thanks to the original designers of this unnamed well for letting it last as long as it did before she quickly demolished it. The brick housing was quickly knocked down and the foundation removed; the hole itself was filled with abundant soil, which the system told her would be necessary in the next few steps. With that, Melia could begin.
The first thing she needed to do was check her inventory for materials. A [Moonwell], being elvish in nature, required elvish materials. While that meant she couldn’t use certain things in its construction (such as her beloved [Abyssal Stone]), it didn't mean it would be weak or of poor quality. Melia spent months grinding her reputation with the elves to unlock the crafting recipe, so she was familiar with the optimal materials.
As with most player-housing recipes, which the [Moonwell] fell squarely under as a vanity decoration, it started with a copious amount of [Base Stone]. The elves were known for their affinity for the night and the moon, but that did not mean everything around them was black or bleak. Melia chose [Polished Marble], a very white and sparkly stone with veins of deep black running through it that practically glowed with a reflective sheen.
When prompted by the system, these stones were shaped into large, tumbled boulders to form the perimeter of the well. Moonwells tended to be larger than a typical well, though they were broad and shallow, allowing a person to stand in calf-deep water while purifying themselves.
…said persons were also elves, so to Melia, a gnome, she might as well be underwater.
Melia’s [Moonwell] would need to be large, both to accommodate her real body (for drinking; obviously, she would not be able to bathe in it) and to fulfill the [Greenhouse]’s irrigation needs.
As such, Melia created a circle with a diameter of 40 feet. The original hole, filled with a slightly darker dirt, looked small and pitiful in comparison.
Next, the recipe called for a layer of stone to line the pool itself. Melia chose [Liquid Rock], made from more [Polished Marble], but she shaped it artfully so people wouldn’t slip and fall on the polished surface, hurting themselves. Truthfully, the entire time she was making the [Moonwell], she was envisioning a sort of fantasy jacuzzi, so she may have molded seats, varying elevations, and several cracks and crevices for bubbles to naturally rise through.
Once the stone was poured and dried, Melia moved on to the final physical material that defined a moonwell. Though not to the same extent as certain races, the elves were somewhat Japanese-inspired. As such, their temples were like zen gardens and more spirit-based than those of other religions (though their goddess would always be Lunaria), and every moonwell had a large torii arch as its entrance. Melia used [Purified Heartwood], which she harvested from Aldrasill, the elvish world tree.
The [Moonwell] was taking shape, but the recipe was only half finished. As it stood, a well without water couldn’t really be called a well. But Melia needed to fill the old well before she ever started, and then she sealed the pool itself. How was water supposed to get in? Magic. Literally, as the next ingredient was actually an [Enchanting] material. [Starlight Dust], from disenchanting level 600 epic materials from the [Fel Court], would seem outrageous to anybody from this world, especially when used to create a pool. When [Disenchanted], each piece of armor only gave one to two units of dust (which in reality was a few grains), and she needed 150 of them. It was, perhaps, enough to fill a salt shaker, but Melia had heard of things like “parts per million,” and besides, they were literally magic.
The final ingredient, which made this ridiculous ornament completely unreasonable for residents of this world, was [Purified Demon Ash]. Fel demons were not the same as normal demons, the race of people tied to Humanity that lived south of human lands. As such, it wasn’t like Melia could incinerate some fools and toss their ashes into her pool…or steal some ancestor’s urn, which would have been equally as awkward and horrible.
[Purified Demon Ash] only came from the final boss of the [Fel Court], a gaping maw of writhing tentacles that supposedly ate souls. Melia didn’t know the truth behind that, as few enemies truly lived up to their fearsome legends, but she could guess that not a lot of people would be willing to give it a go. She also suspected Chaos would intervene before anything serious could happen; the goddess was a homie like that. Oh, they’d still be dead, but Melia would wager any adventurer brave enough to challenge one of Chaos’ harder dungeons and actually make it to the final boss would respawn with their soul intact.
Anyway!
The physical materials made a sharp contrast to the magical ones. While she used enough stone and wood to fill a sizable storeroom, the dust barely filled one of her tiny palms. And yet, as she sprinkled them into her new (dry) pool, her magic began to stir. Melia made sure to use some of her best and most expensive crafting skills to ensure top-quality results.
Melia felt the world shape around her, molding like clay as she infused the world with her magic. She felt the dirt beneath the [Moonwell] harden, boring an intangible tube straight to bedrock. She felt water surge from seemingly nothing, gushing straight for the surface like a geyser. And yet, it did not break through her carefully crafted wading pool, shattering her efforts (and the stone). The well itself, previously a rough circle of boulders, changed. The “rear,” the part further away from the torii gates, rose up from the ground. Higher and higher it climbed, stopping at roughly ten feet tall, like a miniature mountain sitting before a picturesque lake. Just below the summit of the protrusion, roughly around 6 feet tall, a shallow bowl formed. Water began pouring from the summit like a spigot, filling the bowl, eventually spilling from a lowered lip into the basin below. The water quickly rose, mostly from below but aided by the bowl, seeping through the cracks and creating jets of bubbles as water rushed forth. Finally, the entrance itself lowered and thinned. While the main wading area was quite deep, even for elvish standards, the entrance would only cover a person’s ankles. There, it sank back beneath the ground, no matter how much spilled from the upper layers, purifying and filtering the whole system. Standing back, Melia looked at her multi-tiered, outdoor water feature and smiled. She quickly summoned her [Changing Room], put on a bathing suit, and climbed inside. Sitting on one of the shallow benches, she let the water wash away her weariness. Not that she was particularly weary, but it felt really good. Not too hot, not too cold, it was the perfect temperature. She needed to be careful lest she fall asleep while bathing.
Yes, Melia thought, this is a much better well.
Things were not going well. Jessica knew today was going too smoothly. They left StoneCairne early in the morning and didn’t even have to pay for it. As somebody who grew up rough around the edges, she should have known free handouts were too good to be true…even if she trusted the person giving money away for free! It was like the universe itself didn’t want her to have nice things.
Or the rest of her party, for that matter.
After everyone received their consultation with the [Lorekeeper], the old man spent the next hour picking Eluna’s brain for everything she was willing to divulge about the [Saint] class. At first, the elf seemed amused that somebody would be so deeply interested in a niche class, but her attitude quickly shifted into something closer to an instructor. Regardless of the fact that a [Lorekeeper] was essentially a professor’s professor, he sat with rapt attention as she went over specifics like healing ratios, percentages, and other intangible things Jessica wasn’t sure people even knew to quantify. She sure as heck never gave any thought to why Spirit might be more beneficial to a spellcaster than Intelligence. Not that what she had to say wasn’t interesting, but after a while, Jessica simply couldn’t keep up, even after she had Eluna re-explain the concept of min-maxing.
Really, the strawberry elf might be onto something there.
The group left the interview office with broad smiles…and that was when everything started to go downhill. All those stares [Sunrise] was getting earlier hadn’t gone away. If anything, they only intensified. Dark mutterings started floating up around the room, and even if Jessica couldn’t understand the words themselves, she knew they were the subject of attention. And she knew it wasn’t anything good. That’s why, as Al slowly guided them to the exit through the crowded room, the girls subtly bunched together, preparing themselves for a fight. Jessica wasn’t the only one to notice it; Elsie had too and she fell back, letting Y’cennia take the middle position. Eluna, perhaps more than any other of them, knew what was coming. Her huge ears let her hear the faintest whispers from across the room. Jessica knew it was about to get real when she tossed a [Renew] onto Al, the faint glow of healing lighting up his broad back before quickly fading away.
A shadow blocked their path just before they could reach the exit.
Jessica looked up, only to find somebody she was unfamiliar with. Rather, she didn’t know his name (and didn’t care to find out), but she had seen him around the guild from time to time. Several like-minded individuals gathered around him in support, and Jessica could say the same thing for all of them.
They were forgettable.
Perhaps, before today, she would have called them peers. Two months ago, she might have even seen them as people to aspire to. A brief [Inspection] didn’t reveal their names, but it did give her a rough idea of who they were.
Middle of the pack, everyday adventurers. Just like she had been. The guy who blocked the path was a level 295 [Blademaster], and the large bastard sword strapped across his back wasn’t for show. Not too long ago, Jessica would have looked at a guy like this with pure envy. Almost rank 3, with an evolved class, barely any older than all of them. Early 30s at best. His would have been a path Jessica could have followed.
Now, as a mid-rank 3 herself, she wondered why she should have cared.
The man squared up to Alastair, face to face and chest to chest, though he towered over Alastair by a good six inches. Al, stoic [Paladin] that he was, said nothing…but he didn’t back down either. He simply tilted his head, peered around the man, and gave him a pointed look, as if to say, “Broski, you're blocking the path, my guy.”
Of course, Jessica was paraphrasing.
Al’s nod only seemed to infuriate Huge McLargepants. The guy scowled, leaned far too close inside Al’s personal space, and hissed.
“I thought you were better than this, [Paladin].”
Al looked taken aback. He glanced at the rest of [Sunrise], who each shared a confused look. They steadily lowered their weapons, but remained alert.
“I’m afraid you have me at a loss,” Alastair said amicably. “I admit, one of life’s true goals is the pursuit of personal betterment, and I won’t deny I’m at the beginning of a very long road. That being said, I seek my discipline at the Bastion, so if you’ll excuse me….”
Thankfully, the [Blademaster] didn’t try to stop Al as he stepped around the obstacle and ushered the rest of the team toward the door. But the man wasn’t finished, either.
“Don’t think we don’t see what’s going on,” he spat.
Safely at the door, where everyone could escape if need be, [Sunrise] turned.
“Three weeks ago, you were rank 2,” somebody next to the man said. “Now you’re rank 3.”
Somebody else pointed at Ellesea. “You’re almost rank 4.”
Jessica looked around. Everybody in this group had been higher level than them at one point, and now they were being left in the dust. Jessica nodded. She could understand petty jealousy and impotent outrage.
“So what exactly are you accusing us of?” Jessica asked. She had a hunch, but she wanted to hear the words.
“Powerleveling,” one of the cronies spat. Jessica rolled her eyes. She thought as much.
“Even if we were, which we aren’t- not that you’d believe me -, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not illegal.”
“It’s despicable,” the [Blademaster] spat, and Jessica had a sudden epiphany. To all these people, probably returning after a long day of honest work, it probably was. These weren’t the common thugs that loitered around guilds in the morning looking for scraps. It’s why they stood aside as Al walked by and didn’t push for a fight. They knew, just as she did, how dangerous powerleveling could be.
“It’s also a good way to get yourself killed,” Jessica said. “Which, as you can see, we haven’t. How would we, even? Powerleveling isn’t cheap. We’re not made of gold.”
“You’ve got a noble,” one of them said, and Ellesea shrank back.
“Don’t think we’re blind to a [Saint], either,” said the [Blademaster]. “We’d heard rumors, but we’d never stoop so low as to think you’d somehow cajoled her into joining you. There are hundreds of better parties out there. And yet here she is, following around a no-name team of rank 3 adventurers.”
The huge man stood up straight and looked down on them through the length of his long, pointed nose. His eyes paused on Eluna and he gave her a complicated look. Eventually, his gaze returned to Al, and with it, his condescending scorn.
“We don’t know how you managed it, but we know you’re a fraud. The whole guild knows,” he hissed. “You hide behind women and let the legend of a [Saint] carry you. How does it feel, [Paladin]?”
In a rare turn of events, Al squared his shoulders and smirked.
“It feels damn good.”
And with that, they turned and left.
“Maybe that was inadvisable,” Alastair sighed as they stepped out into the street. “I shouldn’t have provoked him.”
“You should have kicked him in the nuts,” Jessica scoffed. She heard a splitter and turned to see Ellesea looking at her with wide eyes. “What? It’s effective.”
“Next time, let me fight him.”
Everyone turned to Eluna, stunned to hear the venom-laced words coming from the normally serene elf. Jessica never stopped to consider how she must feel when everybody talked about her like she wasn’t there, especially since she could hear them even when they spoke in whispers.
“But you’re a healer,” Y’cennia said. “How are you going to fight?”
Eluna actually laughed.
“I might not do much compared to you all, but that doesn’t mean I’m useless. I’ve got a few damaging holy spells, now that I’ve gained a few levels. And trust me, I can hold my own in a fight.”
“Really?” Jessica said frankly. “Dude would kill you.”
“Not in a [Duel],” she shook her head, and Jessica perked up. “I might not look like it, but I’m very good at pee-vee…hmm. What would you call it? I suppose [Dueling] works.”
“I almost want to see that,” Alastair shook his head with a small smile. “But, ahh, how to say it? Might want to be far away from Melia when it happens. I get the feeling if she saw you in a fight, it wouldn’t be fair…for long.”
“Yeah,” Jessica grinned, “But it’s a [Duel]. You can’t interfere with a system [Duel].”
“True,” Alastair muttered…before shuddering. “There was that time I dueled Melia. Never again.”
“That was awesome,” Jessica crowed.
“It was awful,” Ellesea shook her head. “What a waste of an afternoon.”
“Wait,” Eluna stopped in her tracks and put her hand on Al’s shoulder. She looked him squarely in the eye, something gleaming deep inside her own. “You challenged Melia to a [Duel]?”
“Eh,” Jessica waggled her hand. “Sort of? Kind of? Not really? But also yeah?”
“You’ve got stones,” Eluna laughed. Al had the decency to blush.
“How long did it take for her to annihilate you?” Eluna asked, as if there was never any doubt. To be fair, with a level like Melia’s, there never would be. “And better yet, what class did she use?”
“[Pugilist],” Al shook his head, while Jessica burst out laughing.
“Knocked him straight out!” She cackled. “Like, lifted off his feet and everything!”
“Not that, you know, the death of my pride isn’t hilarious,” Al sighed, “But we need to get moving. Ellesea, are you staying with your parents tonight?”
“It might be for the best,” the small [Mage] sighed. “I never expected something like that from the guild. They weren’t just looking at you; they were looking at all of us. I felt my skin crawl. No offense, but I think I might want to check in with my family. If adventurers know about the [Saint], I’m certain the nobility does. We might want to get on top of things before they get any worse.”
“But what can we realistically do about it?” Y’cennia asked. “It’s the nobility. We’re commoners; we can’t do anything against them.”
“They aren’t that bad,” Ellesea sighed. “Just a bit full of themselves. They still have to follow the law.”
Al flagged down a carriage, and after a short ride, [Sunrise] found itself standing in the nobles’ district. The Barnes’ home in the capital wasn’t the largest or flashiest, but it served them well for generations. As a count, Ellesea’s father had administrative duties in a nearby region, but as that land was very low-level and heavily populated by spread-out farmers, he didn’t need to live there year-round. The group arrived and found that he was at home, which did not surprise them, but the fact that he was entertaining someone did.
A count was low on the hierarchy as far as nobles went, and usually, they answered summons. In Horizon, where almost every noble had a residence, they did not often play host to their superiors. Especially not a Marquis.
Ellesea was halfway up the steps to her family home when she finally recognized the coat of arms displayed on a nearby parked carriage. But it was too late to turn back now. The front door was open, the family [Butler] standing to the side pretending to be like air, while her father was in a state Ellesea had never seen him in before. His face was ashen, his brow had a light sheen from a fresh layer of sweat, and when his eyes met hers, it looked like they wished she were anywhere but home.
All because he was not alone. Next to him stood Marquis Leonard Thorpe. The man was tall, skinny, and usually known to be aloof, calculating, and unperturbed…usually on the verge of boredom. Today, he had the oiliest of smiles.
“Ah, the prodigious [Mage] returns,” he said as Ellesea took a step forward. “I was so hoping to speak with you in person.”