The Skill Tree Revelation

The journey back to the kingdom stretched endlessly, each step heavier than the last. The weight of what we had seen—what we had done—pressed down on us like a suffocating fog. The air was thick with unspoken thoughts, the kind of silence that claws at your chest and makes every breath feel like a struggle. Even Tharok, whose booming laughter and brash confidence usually filled the space around us, walked with his head bowed, his massive axe dragging faintly in the dirt behind him. The seventeen survivors we had rescued trailed in our wake, their hollow eyes and shuffling steps a haunting reminder of the horrors they had endured. Their presence was a shadow, a living testament to the darkness we had faced in the cave. 

The landscape around us was a patchwork of rolling hills and dense forests, the kind of terrain that seemed to stretch forever. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that danced across the uneven ground. The kingdom loomed in the distance, its towering spires and fortified walls a beacon of safety, though it felt far from comforting. The road we walked was well-trodden, lined with ancient trees whose gnarled branches reached out like skeletal fingers. The occasional rustle of leaves or distant call of a bird broke the silence, but even nature seemed subdued, as if mourning alongside us. 

Elyra, ever the optimist, tried to lighten the mood. She tugged on my arm, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Come on, guys, let's get something to eat. It's on me." 

Tharok perked up at that, his tusks jutting out as he grinned. "Yeah, let's get some grub. I'm starving." 

Eldrin, the ever-practical elf, raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Princess? I could pay—" 

"Yeah, let her pay," I interrupted, my tone dry and dripping with sarcasm. Eldrin shot me a look, but Elyra just laughed, the sound brittle but genuine. 

"No, I've got this," she said, waving him off. Eldrin's relief was palpable. I couldn't blame him; I'd seen how much this group could eat. Tharok was an animal when it came to meat, devouring entire racks of ribs in minutes, and Elyra, despite her royal upbringing, ate with the ferocity of a starving wolf. The thought of it made me chuckle, a small spark of levity in the otherwise oppressive atmosphere. 

Arthur noticed and turned to me, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly. "What's so funny? Another joke?" 

I smirked. "How did the barber win the race?" 

Arthur tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "How?" 

"He knew a shortcut." 

Arthur burst out laughing, his deep, hearty laugh filling the air like a warm breeze. The others groaned, but I could see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at their lips. Even Tharok chuckled, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff cough. 

Lira, however, wasn't amused. She slammed her hand on the table, her daggers glinting in the dim light of the tavern. "How can you all laugh and eat at a moment like this? After what we just saw?" Her voice was sharp, her eyes blazing with a fury that seemed to burn brighter than the fire in the hearth. Before anyone could respond, she stormed off, her cloak billowing behind her like a shadow come to life. 

Garrick started to go after her, but Arthur stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Let her be for now. You know there's nothing you can do when she gets like this." 

Elyra's stomach growled loudly, breaking the tension. We all laughed, even Arthur, the sound a strange but welcome reprieve from the heaviness that had settled over us. "Alright, Princess, we get it," I said, grinning. "Let's eat." 

As we made our way to the restaurant, Garrick handed Arthur a small, leather-bound journal. "This was found on that man in the cave. It's like a diary." 

Arthur took it, flipping through the pages briefly before tucking it into his bag. "We'll look at this later." He then turned to the group, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Ah, don't forget to use any skill points you may have gotten." 

The others nodded, poking at the air as if interacting with something invisible. I stared at them in confusion. "What are you all doing? Are you joking with me right now?" 

They all turned to look at me, their expressions a mix of surprise and disbelief. Garrick was the first to speak. "You can't access your skill tree?" 

I blinked. "What skill tree?" 

Garrick burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet street. "You've been fighting this whole time without knowing you had a skill tree? Everyone has one! You can use it to upgrade your skills or unlock new ones." 

Arthur shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face. "There's no way you could have gotten this far without your skill tree. How have you been managing?" 

I shrugged. "I thought your skills just upgraded the more you used them. Like, they leveled up naturally." 

Eldrin nodded, his silver hair catching the light as he spoke. "Well, that's partly true. The more you use your skills—or in my case, spells—the more proficient you become, allowing you to use the ability to its fullest. But most people just level up to make this process faster. Though I've heard of people who focus on proficiency first, then level up. It makes their skills and abilities more powerful, but no one does that. It takes too long." 

I frowned, thinking about it. "Hypothetically, if one didn't know about the skill tree, how would you use it?" 

Arthur stepped forward, his tone patient but firm. "It's like a muscle. All you need to do is feel it, like using magic. Just think about it. Each tree is different depending on how you visualize it. No one else can view someone else's tree, but there are abilities that allow you to see others' skills and abilities." 

He gestured for me to close my eyes. "Imagine it now. Focus." 

I did as he said, closing my eyes and trying to visualize what he was describing. At first, there was nothing but darkness. Then, slowly, an image began to form in my mind. It was like a video game screen, with a list of my abilities and a progress bar next to each one. I was shocked to see that I had 100% proficiency in all my skills, but I was only at level one. I guess that's what I get for doing nothing but prank the king for three years straight. 

I had 35 skill points waiting to be used. I could go straight to level 50 if I wanted, but I decided to be strategic. I upgraded my minor illusion into greater illusion—a big jump, but it paid to have high proficiency. It allowed me to bypass the usual level restrictions. My minor enchantment evolved into greater enchantment, which could eventually become curse enchantment. My minor sound manipulation became mock voice, allowing me to mimic someone's voice and make it audible to only one specific person. And my minor levitation transformed into telekinesis—no explanation needed there. 

By the time I was done, I had reached level 10, using only four skill points. Then I noticed something new: a weapon slot. 

"What's this for?" I asked, pointing to the slot in my skill tree. 

Arthur explained, "When you're proficient with a weapon, you can assign it to that slot. It enhances your proficiency further and unlocks new skills and abilities tied to that weapon." 

I nodded slowly. "Well, I guess I need a weapon then." 

Arthur clapped me on the shoulder. "That's what we'll do. It's on me." 

We made our way to the town square, where the air buzzed with activity. The cobblestone streets were worn smooth by countless footsteps, glistening faintly under the soft glow of the afternoon sun. Vendors lined the square, their stalls brimming with colorful wares—fresh produce, handcrafted trinkets, and steaming pots of food that filled the air with tantalizing aromas. The scent of roasted meats, spiced bread, and sweet pastries mingled with the earthy smell of the marketplace, creating a sensory tapestry that was both comforting and invigorating. 

Children darted between the stalls, their laughter ringing out like bells, while merchants called out to passersby, their voices a melodic cacophony of offers and greetings. The sound of a blacksmith's hammer striking metal echoed from a nearby forge, a rhythmic clang that seemed to pulse in time with the heartbeat of the town. 

Arthur and I entered the blacksmith's shop, a sturdy building of stone and timber. The heat from the forge hit us like a wall, and the air smelled of coal and molten metal. The blacksmith, a burly man with soot-streaked arms, greeted us with a nod. 

"Welcome, hero and friend. What can I do for you today?" 

Arthur gestured to me. "We're looking for a weapon for my friend here. Something he's proficient with." 

The blacksmith laid out an array of weapons—swords, axes, maces, spears, and more. I picked up each one, checking my skill tree for proficiency. Sword: not proficient. Axe: not proficient. Mace: not proficient. Ball and chain, shield, spear—nothing. 

The blacksmith's face fell. "Sorry, kid. I don't have anything else unless I custom-make something." 

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it. I don't want you to go through the trouble for something I might not even use." 

We left the blacksmith's shop and made our way to a store specializing in staves and magical artifacts. The shopkeeper, a kind-faced woman with silver hair, greeted us warmly. 

"What's your class?" she asked. 

I hesitated. "Magician." 

She raised an eyebrow. "That's not exactly a class for fighting, but I'll see what I can do." 

She brought out three items: a pair of metal gauntlets that could store and release magic, a staff with a crystal that allowed spells to be stored for instant casting, and a pair of emerald-green daggers that could channel magic into slashing attacks. 

I checked my skill tree. Not proficient with the staff, not proficient with the daggers and gauntlets. I shot Arthur a frown, and he knew I hadn't found my weapon. The shopkeeper, realizing she couldn't make a sale, gave us a polite nod. We apologized for the inconvenience and left. 

I quickly apologized to Arthur, but he waved it off. "It's fine. It took me a while to find my magical sword too. Of course, being the hero, I was proficient in every weapon." 

I laughed. "What a way to show off." 

He grinned. "I wasn't trying to." 

"You're so easy to mess with," I said, still chuckling. 

We made our way back to the tavern, hoping the rest of the party hadn't left without us. As we walked, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The skill tree revelation had opened up a world of possibilities, and I was eager to see where this new path would lead.