“Intelligence - Higher than Average”

The Intelligence attribute on my dashboard must have been broken, because it was the only attribute Vivian ranked highly in, and also the attribute she consistently demonstrated a complete absence of.

How did she not understand that if one was to attend something called the Royal Ball one must attempt to be personable, beautiful, modest, gregarious, affable, any number of words that could be synonymous with “attractive,” all of the above perhaps!

Why put points in stamina?

What’s the point (haha no) in strength?

Had Vivian distributed points to these attributes because they were low? Because she wanted to even out her statline to appear aesthetically consistent? Symmetrical?

I wanted to sign off, call it quits, and do nothing but create spreadsheet models from within the confines of my holographic display, dreaming of the possible Vivian Greymoors I could create instead.

The next morning, Vivian found Stefan and Vladimir sauntering through the gardens, and the two of them invited her for morning tea beneath a gazebo overlooking a flower garden of poppies and azaleas. Squirrels scurried about, collecting nuts falling from a nearby walnut tree.

It was quite clear at a glance why Stefan and Vladimir fit the adage that opposites attract. Stefan shared many of his father's youthful characteristics. He was shorter than both Vivian and Vlad, and his boyish disposition was matched by spotted freckles and childish grin.

Vladimir, on the other hand, reminded me a little of Vivian. Sharp, angled features, almost as if sculpted, and he held a mature brooding expression behind his academic spectacles and brown vest. But alone among Stefan and Vivian, Vladimir let show a timidness to his gait that I had not seen before, as if he wasn't quite sure how to continue with an act.

"Tea, Viv?" Stefan asked, "We're having the blended black tea that the Montaignes gifted us during the holidays."

"Do we still have coffee, actually?" Vivian asked.

"Always with the coffee," Stefan sighed, "Well, Emily is bringing us our cups and pot, we can ask her to scour the pantry for some."

The maid, Emily, returned moments later, carrying a steaming pot and a pair of porcelain cups atop a silver tray. She cast a sidelong glance at Vivian and bowed nervously.

"Emily, I'm sorry for making you run two trips," Stefan said, "Would you do us a little favor? Vivian's craving some coffee, do you mind checking if there's still any left in the pantry?"

"Of course, my apologies Lady Greymoor, I should have known," Emily curtsied and excused herself.

"Strange. She's been like that since the day you fainted, and she was crying in your arms when you first came to," Stefan poured a cup for himself, "Is something wrong between you two? She's usually so much more…"

"Effusive?"

"That's it, Vladdy."

"I don't know," Vivian shrugged, "She's been ignoring me too whenever I've tried to approach her."

"First, she loses the crown prince, now she loses the maid."

"Come on Vlad, spare her the usual quips."

"No, he's right," Vivian sighed, “I blew it with Prince Pendragon, and I let his blessed lover get to me. Emily was so excited to see me in dress too, she must be so disappointed to see how things turned out."

"The royal family wants to bolster its lineage with magic, especially rare archetypes, it has nothing to do with you.”

"When you're the only one who can't do magic, it has everything to do with me!"

"You know what he means," Stefan said, "Vladdy's the most experienced practitioner here and he wouldn't have scored the prince against someone with Avalon's blessing."

"Stefan…"

"What? I was just trying to make her feel better. And you know it's true too. Anyway, Viv, any luck with the artifact I showed you?”

Vivian held up her wrist and shook the cerulean bracelet dangling from there.

“It’s some kind of magical artifact, just like you said,” Vivian said, “But are you sure there weren’t any written instructions on how to use it? I don’t think I really understand it.”

No. No you don’t.

“Don’t look at me, grandfather gave this to you, remember?” Stefan shrugged, “And I had Vlad take a look, and he assures me it’s not just an ordinary trinket.”

“The Ministry has an esoteric taxonomy for artifacts,” Vladimir explained, “But this would very easily pass the test as some kind of sacred relic.”

Sacred relic? Really? Was I that special? Well, I guess the goddess created me for this world. What else would I be if not divinely forged?

“The magical circuitry embedded in the bracelet is off the Ministry’s charts,” Vladimir continued, “Its surface is immune to the elements, which means it won’t rust or erode with time. The Enchanters Guild could appraise this, but I wouldn’t want rumors spreading about the Greymoors hoarding a sacred relic.”

Truth be told, listening in on a conversation strictly about me felt a tad embarrassing. Awkward. Cringe, even.

“But what does it do?” Vivian asked, “It just shows me these names and numbers and rankings. Can you believe it ranked my personality as average? I’m lost so I’ve been playing around with it. It keeps telling me to distribute these things called ‘attribute stats’ but nothing happens afterwards.”

First of all, her personality wasn’t even average, it was mid. And technically speaking, she literally was average, because all of her stats were distributed evenly!

Second of all, playing around? Did Vivian not understand the magnitude of what she had done, that she had wrought permanent damage upon her body?

“Wait, wait, wait,” Stefan said, “You said that it ranked your personality as average? Look, I’m going to ignore the possibility that the artifact is just trying to insult you for a second and ask, what other things was it ranking?”

“Let me see,” Vivian pressed her hands against the bracelet and began reading from my display, “Strength, stamina, intelligence, which I rank highly in apparently, things like that.”

“Have you distributed these ‘attribute stats’ as you call them into strength and stamina?”

Very good question, Stefan, very good question.

“Yes.”

“And, do you feel stronger at all?”

“Not particularly? What do you mean by stronger?”

“Vladdy, do us a favor and arm wrestle her.”

“What is that supposed to prove?” Vivian asked.

“Well, the bracelet is telling you that you’ve added points into these nebulous characteristics that make up your person. So, if you put points into stamina, I assume you should feel like you have more endurance. If you put points into your intelligence, maybe your mind is a little sharper?”

Yes! Yes, Stefan, yes that’s exactly it! I love you! Talk some sense into your sister!

“And,” Vivian replied, “If I put points into my personality, I become more attractive?”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Stefan cowered at Vivian's follow-up glare, “But hear me out, Viv, you’ve only just begun exploring the artifact. Maybe you get more powerful if you concentrate on one attribute.”

Why couldn’t I have been Stefan’s stat menu, instead?

An internal notification rang, which usually meant that once again I had gained a level as a levitating holographic display. I wondered if this was a playful ruse by the goddess, who wanted to give me the veneer of personal progression and development, but none of the actual real life perks.

I also wondered what useless feature it would be this time. I lucked out that the goddess had been so kind as to allow me the joy of spreadsheet modeling in this foreign world; it gave me a tranquil sense that there was a home to return to at the end of a long frustrating session of watching Lady Greymoor completely ruin her personal stats.

But there was also a lack of interactivity with just making spreadsheets within my digital cavern, as if the goddess was mocking my inability to interface with people in the real world. Neither Vivian nor Stefan nor Vladimir would ever be able to see the graphs, the ability tree optimizations, a thirty two page report detailing the uselessness of the “Luck” stat, and all the other massive work I had invested in theorycrafting Vivian’s future (one might have asked why I invested so much in someone I didn’t even know, but I was not quite ready to answer this question yet). Even if they did, it’s not like they would ever guess that a sentient soul living inside their grandfather’s sacred relic had been behind all of it.

I pulled my attention inward, tuning out the remaining conversation with Vivian and Stefan, and investigated the details of my newest upgrade. At the center of my virtual lair was a blank space reserved for when the administrative messages signaling changes in my level and skills would appear.

Sure enough, that space had been replaced by a translucent text message confirming that my idling a conversation had, for whatever reason, granted me another level.

But then I read the rest of the message.

This time, I had gained not a new feature or ability, but what appeared to be a passive characteristic called Edit. Edit, it read, granted me the ability to make any changes to the interface of Vivian Greymoor’s stat menu. These changes would then notify Vivian immediately.

My head immediately swirled with numerous possibilities and my optimism soared to celestial heights, ignoring how pathetic it was to celebrate being granted effectively the same powers as a word processor or graphic design software.

Finally, I again had reason to hope.