text: Touch the spider? That was what he had to do? Might as well ask me to touch the hot end of a blow torch or bite off my pinky. He shivered inwardly and forced his mind into a black calm, blocking all those terrible memories of spiders across a lifetime.
  
  They never liked him—he never liked them. It was fair. Then again, it wasn't like those spiders were willing to sit down and have a long discussion about world affairs.
  
  "Just," he said, wringing his hands, "don't move, alright."
  
  "Are you sure? You could just touch the pedestal and close your eyes."
  
  "I really don't think I can do that."
  
  "Out of everything I've told you, this is your one hangup?"
  
  "You know my past! It's a rather big hangup."
  
  The spider sighed, actually sighed. Could spiders really sigh? Then again, could they talk. . .?
  
  "Fine, I'll touch the pedestal and close my eyes." He reached out a finger and touched the very edge of the pedestal and clamped his eyes shut.
  
  "I can't reach."
  
  "You're a spider, figure it out."
  
  "It doesn't help that you keep moving your finger."
  
  "Well, it has a mind of its own." He opened his eyes to find his finger six inches below the edge of the pedestal and a silvery red spider spinning on a thread, like all spiders do, the other end attached to some random thing, left for you to run into it face first.
  
  His reaction was immediate and . . . involuntary.
  
  His hand ripped away so fast, he barely felt the back of his hand slap the Mother of Shadows. What wasn't barely felt was the surge of energy and knowledge and warmth that pushed into him.
  
  "Ow!" the spider said, hanging from his vest, running her tiny, little legs to catch the fabric and gain a foothold.
  
  This produced another immediate and involuntary action.
  
  After a solid fifteen seconds of dancing and slapping, Dhane stopped and searched the blackness. Shit brownies! "Are you okay?" He didn't kill the Mother of Shadows, did he? "Spider?"
  
  "You're lucky I can't die," she replied, testily. "Not that getting smashed five times doesn't hurt." She muttered something about recruiting the guy with arachnophobia, then sighed again.
  
  "First," she said, "let me assure you that I am not on you. I'm nowhere near you. In fact, I'm not even physical anymore, thank you very much. Your little minions are going to have a tough time and I sympathize with them. But I can't do anything about that.
  
  "Second, I've added something special to your concoction of divinity blessings and knowledge. It's a permanent divine gift that prevents anyone from seeing your affinity or reading your mind unless you want them to."
  
  Dhane thought back to how all the Cobalins seemed to know he was of Shadow and not Light. "So I can remain hidden."
  
  "Right. You can appear to be of Shadow or of Light by triggering the effect, which you should know how to do now."
  
  She was right, triggering an ability only took a mental thought. And now that he had noticed knowing something new without learning it, all the other things started clicking into place: different types of monsters, weapons, skills, leveling, everything just shot through his brain, like drinking from a firehose, flashes of information only to be immediately forgotten unless he focused on it.
  
  "You know," she said, "I can't remember the last time a person tried to kill a divinity."
  
  "I didn't . . . umm, yeah."
  
  She laughed. "I'm sorry my form triggers your fear. Maybe with time, you'll overcome it. For now, that concludes our meeting. I shouldn't have to tell you this, but to be clear, you won't want to reveal your affinity to other adventurers. Once they know your power comes from Shadow, you'll forever be their enemy and won't be welcome in their towns for trade or anything else."
  
  Dhane nodded. It made sense. He'll be playing both sides of the game.
  
  "Now for the tricky party."
  
  "Huh?" Dhane managed to say just as a silvery red spider landed on his cheek. His skin went cold, his eye twitched, and every muscle tensed just as the world shifted, swirling in elongated streams of color until he stood on green grass.
  
  As soon as everything appeared and his feet were on the ground, he slapped his cheek so damn hard a -2 in red lifted up above him. It stung for only a moment, then the pain vanished, leaving an echo of distant, psychic laughter ringing through his ears.
  
  Some woman riding an ox gave him a startled look. "Why you go and do that, son?"
  
  "Mosquito!" he called back.
  
  The woman mouthed Ah-hah and continued on her way along a road that sloped down toward the sprawl of a fantastical city. The stone walls were thirty feet tall with a thicker base. Guards marched along the top, their armor alight in the deep oranges and reds of the setting sun, half-hidden by the parapet and jigsaw looking embrasures.
  
  On either side of the gate—which was crowded by hundreds of people, moving into the city—stood two giant statue guards. They soared above the walls by a good fifty feet, watching over the valley, each equipped with a copper green shield, spear, and barbute, a T opening helmet.
  
  Oh, and the city. . . . A palace of white stone with blue, conical roofs, topped with sharp gleaming metal spires; domes of gold, mounted on fancy corbels, and somehow he knew the divinities of Light were carved into their stone. Parts of walls were held by the carvings of men prevailing against monsters.
  
  Below the palace were hundreds of buildings, wrapped around a canal and divided by streets that sloped down from the palace to the outer walls. Each building stood no more than three floors, their construction suspect, as if built from the imagination of a toddler. Nothing seemed to fit or align. The buildings leaned and supported each other, everything at an angle, not straight.
  
  Dhane just stood there, his brain in an infinite loop, practically on the verge of a blue screen of death and desperately needing a reboot. Minutes passed as he studied the shapes, the majestic palace juxtaposed by pedestrian disarray. And even so, it had an art to it, as if one shabby building was trying to outdo the other in how crazy and farfetched it could become while still standing.
  
  He took in a breath, breaking from the spell. This wasn't some fictional game or book, but real life. This city of Light— Oh . . . of Light. He wasn't of Light; wasn't one of these citizens; he was something entirely different. And just as that thought struck, another thing manifested from the fog of untamed knowledge, a single word: arachnomancer.
  
  Arachni, Greek for spider, and Manteia—like the suffix of Necromancy, which was the only reason he knew it—meant divination, to seek knowledge of the future or the unknown.
  
  By touching the spider divinity, Mother of Shadows, he had automatically accepted his class. Just as the Lion made someone a warrior or the Owl made someone a wizard, his power was over that which he hated more than anything in the world: spiders.
  
  Oh, shit brownies.
  
  He let out a deep breath.
  
  What he really needed to do was sit down and sort through all the things he knew while not knowing all the things he knew, but night was quickly approaching. One fairly standard thing was how a cheap room and board started at a silver piece per night.
  
  And yet . . . he didn't have any silver. He didn't have much of anything. Actually, what did he have? He summoned his phone and opened the Inventory app.
  
  ─ 2x Durum Boar Meat
  
  ─ 1x Leather Scrap
  
  ─ 32 Copper
  
  The leather scrap was worth 16 copper and the boar meat was 10 copper each. He could vendor it, as games would call it—sell the items to the game system or non-player characters; are there NPCs in this world?—or maybe sell the items to real people. . ..
  
  And now that he had stopped to think about this stuff, his stomach was painfully empty. Who knew being revived and thrust into an eternal war could be so draining.
  
  He tapped the Map app and it opened to reveal a vast world set perfectly in a rectangle, divided into columns of different colors. The colors were like seasons or biomes. They started from the left with a wintery white, then dark green of forest trees on rocky mountains. The trees changed in the next column, becoming more sparse, surrounded with dark water. Then it was the column he stood in: bright green with yellow fields and pink trees.
  
  The rolling green hills eventually merged with a different shade of green, surrounding lakes and rivers and bridges. The trees were white with bright blue leaves. Then came the ocean, spanning three columns with pockets of islands and beaches.
  
  Beyond the ocean was a desert, then a gray, jagged mountain terrain, and finally ending in a column of molten lava, running down cliff faces, pouring into the water and exhaling great torrents of steam.
  
  Each column was a world into itself, four hundred miles wide, a hundred long. And now that he gave it some thought, he knew it crawled with creatures of every type, even those that matched no affinity to Light or Shadow. In fact, most monsters and animals, were of a neutral affinity, belonging to neither side—soulless.
  
  The Heaven's Mountain, or Paradeise Vono, wasn't even a part of the map. It sat beyond the domain of ice, marking north for all to see. Well, it certainly was good he didn't have to travel there to get his phone back.
  
  But none of this was why he opened the map in the first place. What he really wanted to know was information about the town and where he could sell meat. The thought triggered the knowledge that yes, there were meat vendors that he could trade with.
  
  He performed a reverse pinch on the screen and it zoomed in. Ceratree City had four gates running in each of the major directions, and each gate had an alert. The yellow, triangular icon displayed with an exclamation point inside.
  
  ─ Gates closing at 8:00 p.m. (14 minutes, 2 seconds)
  
  There was no knowing what came out at night. Actually, there was plenty of knowing, now that he gave it thought. That's going to take some getting used to. At night, the nocturnal monsters crawled out of their holes. For monster hunters, that was great. For someone who only had a tiny Cobalin sword, not so much.
  
  Dhane followed the road that led into the east gate filled with people returning from a day of adventuring. Platforms, a hundred feet out from the main road with circles and symbols cut into stone, lit up with a golden glow before people would suddenly appear in a swirl of light.
  
  Four guards, two on either side of the gates, wore polished armor and sheathed swords. They watched the people with a focused gaze, as if searching for some escaped criminal. One guard looked at Dhane and raised a brow. Well, he did look quite ridiculous with the oversized vest.
  
  The guard hurriedly flagged another guard, but before any words could be exchanged, the crowd pushed forward, and he entered the city.
  
  Seeing the buildings up close was entirely different than casting judgment far away. They were expressive, colorful, fun, exotic. They had all manner of decorations, and signs, and prices painted on wood as unique as the buildings themselves.
  
  People marched up brick steps and through doorways, little bells rang announcing the arriving and departing customers. People were merry, excited, full of life, lit by flickering street lanterns and the occasional glowing crystal, mounted near display windows and doorways of important businesses, no doubt.
  
  People were everywhere, wearing a juxtaposition of clothing styles from modern-day to something that would fit perfectly in a fantasy setting . . . like this one, come to think of it.
  
  People rode on all manner of things, from horses and donkeys to giant wolves, great boars, and bears. The stables must be fun. Except, now that he thought of stables, most cities didn't have them. People received a mount at level 5 and could summon and desummon them at will. Interesting.
  
  Even with all the different types of mounts, there were people being carted by men and women, pulling two-wheeled rickshaws. They had little lanterns that swung above the passenger's seat. None had visible baggage, though of course, why would they? The Inventory app could hold a hundred items, and some items could be stacked, like his 2x Durum Boar Meat, which could be stacked ten times before taking another slot.
  
  People hawked weapons, armor, potions, scrolls, and all manner of clothing, furniture, and magical wares. Apparently, the Clothing app didn't provide enough variety, otherwise, tailors wouldn't be able to make money.
  
  The smells of cooked meat, spices, sweets, and woodsmoke, filled the market. Dhane pulled up the map again and zoomed in. All the streets in the town were outlined and marked with names. Little icons started appearing to show restaurants, inns, a theater, government buildings, and various types of vendors. Perfect.
  
  He swiped a few times and found a meat vendor. When tapped, a green line appeared on the map indicating directions. It even had reviews. Heaven had Yelp!, what a thought!
  
  In a hundred and twenty feet, turn right, the screen reported. Sure enough, when he did, he came upon a booth with a sign hanging overhead, matching a meat icon.
  
  The man inside was leaning back in a chair, feet propped up on the table, flicking his phone. He had thick brown hair combed neatly, pale white skin, and well-trimmed facial hair with a gold stud earring in either ear.
  
  He wore a casual suit, shiny black shoes, a slick coat hanging off his chair, and a button-up violet shirt with the cuffs undone and bunched to his elbows.
  
  This was the butcher? Then again, why wear an apron when there was no actual butchery involved. He was more of a trader, like the stock market sort, buy and sale. For that, one didn't need an apron.
  
  Dhane paused, scanning the reviews—or, review. There was only one, and it was 1-star: What a complete idiot. This guy knows nothing about meat. He offered me half the going rate! Do yourself a favor and trade with 'Goleski Loves Your Meat' instead.
  
  "Hey there, I'm Nick," the man said. He dropped his feet from the table and stood. His phone vanished and he held out his hand. Dhane shook it, noting just how strong the man's grip was despite not looking the part. Then again, little bits of knowledge told him that people had stats and could improve aspects of themselves as they level from experience.
  
  "I'm looking to sell some meat...."
  
  "Perfect, what do you have?"
  
  "Actually," Dhane said and turned his phone so Nick could see, "what's up with this review?"
  
  "Oh, give me a break!" Nick said and plopped back down in his chair. "I see, off with you then."
  
  "So you don't deny the review?"
  
  "It's a fake! That guy was paid by Goleski to tear down my business. And since I'm new in this city, spending most of my money on my merchant's license, I can't get any business."
  
  "So you don't pay half the going rate?"
  
  "I'm a fair trader, more fair than that bastard. You know what, test me. What do you want to sell?"
  
  "I have two Durum Boar Meat."
  
  "Durum, you say? You don't see a lot of Durum Boars in this area. In fact, I believe they are far to the east, in hills infested with Cobalins. Not an expensive type of meat, though the rarity should catch a better price. How's the expiration date?"
  
  "Wait, meat exp—" Dhane started to say, then that bit of knowledge bloomed into his mind. All food items and potions, and really anything a person may eat or drink, had an expiration date. He opened his inventory, tapped the stack of Durum Boar Meat and the information appeared. "I got it today at 4:27 p.m. and it doesn't expire for another week."
  
  "Impressive. Not to be rude or anything, though you don't seem that well equipped for a Durum hunt." Nick squinted as if trying to look into Dhane, then his forehead crinkled and he shrugged. "How did you get here so fast? Waypoint?"
  
  "My divinity? It's my first day."
  
  "Really! That's crazy. Most new people are welcomed by the Royals and given gear and an introduction to the world. Your divinity just plopped you outside the town with some Durum Boar Meat?"
  
  "More or less. So what's it worth?"
  
  "I can give you 20 copper each."
  
  That was twice what the System would have paid, and nearly enough to get him room and board for the night. Of course, everything in a fantasy world was done with a bit of barter.
  
  "I guess," Dhane said, "I should check with Goleski."
  
  Nick huffed. "Yes, go ahead and test my rate. He's just going to ask what I offered and give you the same amount. Why walk all the way back here to make the same amount, right?"
  
  "You could just offer more, maybe in exchange for a positive review?"
  
  "Whoa-whoa-whoa, I can't just go bribing people for reviews."
  
  "It's not like you're the one who offered. You're a new business and need reviews. And I'm new to the world with nobody, hardly any money, and this crappy vest."
  
  Nick rubbed his chin. "You have a point. . . . What if I paid 30 copper each and threw in a decent shirt in exchange for the vest? It's really nothing special, though it'd look a whole lot better than . . . that."
  
  "I'd say that's worthy of a glowing 5-star review."
  
  Nick grinned and held out his hand. "It's a deal then."
  
  Changing clothes was as easy as tapping a button. They really did make an app for everything. His new silver shirt was form-fitting and corded. It showed off his build, which seemed a bit better than his past life. While he was always down for a good walk or hike, hitting the gym just never came about.
  
  People no longer gave him that confused look, the same one a teacher gave a student wearing mismatching shoes. It was nice not sticking out like the wrong character in a video game.
  
  The Map app provided more than a dozen places to get room and board. At this point, he'd eat anything. Could a soul starve to death? Yes, yes it could. It was a long, boring, and terribly uncomfortable process, and once death finally came, the person would be revived so they could do it all over again.
  
  Woot! That sounds like fun. . ..
  
  The inns were ranked by a number of dollar signs and reviews. The Cali Bali—an inn closest to the east gate—had a single dollar sign and decent reviews, most of which said the rooms sucked, though the company was nice.
  
  He followed the directions to a run-down building with three floors. It was larger than most other buildings and the first floor, revealed by large arched windows, was entirely packed with people at tables, eating and laughing as waitresses and waiters carried large trays covered in plates.
  
  The smells were to die for!
  
  Dhane pushed into the building. There wasn't anyone to welcome new guests, ask for his party size or anything like that, so he walked up to the bar where a young woman worked. She had gorgeous blue eyes and blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, capped with a green hat, kind of like an elf's hat that came to a point with a little red ball pulling it down to the side.
  
  "Hi," she said and flashed a radiant smile. She grabbed a glass, filled it with golden liquid, then slid it down the bartop. The cup stopped perfectly in front of an old, merry gentleman, laughing and slapping his side, white fluffy beard bouncing along.
  
  "I'm looking for a room."
  
  "I see," she said and looked behind him. "Just for one, then?"
  
  He nodded. "Cheapest you have."
  
  "Alright, cheapest we've got is one silver for the night. You must be out at first light, and no breakfast included. Bath is extra."
  
  He only had 92 copper. Sure, he could sell the leather scrap to the System and make up the difference, but finding a vendor for that would be more profitable. And, oi, all he wanted to do right now was eat something and pass out.
  
  When he didn't immediately reply, the barkeep crooked an eyebrow. "You don't have a silver, do you?" She said it with kindness, not judgment. "Alright, how much you got?"
  
  "Just 92 copper."
  
  "Sold!" she said and smiled. "I'll cover your 8 copper, but just this time, okay? It's out of my pocket, the innkeeper doesn't budge on prices at all. . . . Maybe when you come into some money, you can leave me a big tip?" She winked.
  
  And now he felt a little guilty for not just selling that damn scrap of leather. If it were the last thing he did, he'd kill all the Durum Boars in the zone to pay her back. For now, he nodded his agreement: big tip once he could manage it, deal.
  
  He opened the Inventory app and tapped on his money. This brought up a calculator of sorts that allowed him to enter the exact amount he wanted. He entered 92 and a small bag materialized with a label indicating the amount.
  
  The barkeep took the bag, then bumped her phone to his. "There you go. Use your phone to unlock the door and if you need anything—though most things cost money, what a drag, right?—I'll be down here."
  
  Despite all the literature, poetry, and languages he had studied, his mind became blank of anything clever to say. Then he tried to muster up something less than clever, which amounted to a bunch of one-off sayings that bubbled up and got stuck in his throat.
  
  Luckily, he managed to say, "Thanks," then turned away lest his brain-fart stare became creepy.
  
  Ah! Of course, and always a moment late, he thought Your kindness was all I needed. Boom! That would have been smooth. Or maybe The best things are free, like your smile. Cringy, but she really did have a nice smile.
  
  "Oh!" the barkeep said from behind. Dhane turned in time to catch a softball shaped roll. It slapped against his hand and stung, much heavier than it really had any business being. "That's your food. Thanks!"
  
  To which Dhane replied with every ounce of suave he could muster, "Kind smile." Kind smile? That wasn't exactly how that was supposed to go, though she smiled all the same, so perhaps that was all that mattered.
  
  He considered the heavy piece of bread with butter-polished crust, reflecting lantern light. It weighed like a brick, a chunk of metal, or like a few jawbreakers merged into one, teetering on the brink of a black hole.
  
  Dhane moved out of the main dining room where all the scents of delectable foods wafted through happy customers who had the silver to spend. Had he known this dense roll was going to be his meal, he might have tried eating raw Durum Boar meat instead.
  
  He sighed and tried to take a bite, dragging teeth ineffectually across the gloss surface. This wasn't a piece of painted wood, was it? Maybe he could cut into it in his room. He climbed the stairs to the second floor where he passed a couple heading in the opposite direction, dressed nicely for dinner.
  
  The guy whispered something in the girl's ear, then grabbed her sides. She laughed and swatted his hands away, then turned to walk backward, one finger out. "Oh, don't you dare," she said, playfully.
  
  She was all grins and happy, a flush on her cheeks, wearing a rather pretty black and red, bell-shaped dress. The guy moved with practiced skill, evading her defenses and tickling her side one last time before she disappeared, leaving only her kicking shoes and the fringes of her dress as she went rolling down the stairs.
  
  Dhane cried out in surprise and moved to help, though there wasn't much he could do, and the girl seemed okay. She pushed her face off the floor, apparently unharmed except for her face turning the deep color of embarrassment. The guy hurried down and picked her up. She called him a jerk, and they both laughed some more.
  
  This world would really take some getting used to. People simply didn't die here, and if they got hurt, it was only momentary, a sting without the lingering anguish. In real life, people didn't heal in minutes. And that prompted caution and survival instincts. What side effects were there where society didn't fear death?
  
  The hallway on the third floor had doors lining both sides, none of them identical. The second to last door on the left, next to what was probably a closet, had a brass plate with his room number on it, so he tapped his phone to the doorknob.
  
  Nothing happened. Or maybe it did? He tried the doorknob and it remained locked. He checked his phone again and noticed a very small, nearly imperceptible, .5 next to 313. The closet. . ..
  
  Okay, well it wouldn't be the best of rooms money could buy, nor did it seem worth the 92 copper he had paid, but it beat sleeping on the streets. Besides, tomorrow was a brand new day, one he was determined to take full advantage of. There was certainly something he could kill or harvest or cut or mine or something.
  
  He tapped his phone to the doorknob and a lock clicked. Inside, squished between two walls, was a twin-sized mattress that barely fit, shoved beneath a bunk bed, occupied by a rather massive man, snoring thunderously.
  
  Dhane exhaled.
  
  Oh, shit brownies.