In the end, she couldn’t turn the offer down. But coming to that conclusion took a while of just sitting there, running her brain in circles. The Bestower, at least, waited patiently. She didn’t speak a word as the minutes ticked by. Natalie supposed it made sense a deity—or pseudo-deity, or whatever the automaton was—would be endlessly patient.
And honestly, Natalie didn’t think she spent more time deliberating than most, so it wasn’t like The Bestower had to be overly long-suffering. Natalie would never call herself a meticulous person. It was only because of the monumental circumstances—her unlocking—that she gave the decision the consideration it deserved. Most situations, she’d go with her gut. Jump in with much less forethought than appropriate. The Architect knew Jordan had complained about Natalie’s brashness more than once, through their adolescent adventures across the Entwining Forest.
Natalie sighed, then stood.
“Okay,” she said. “I accept.”
An unsurprised nod. Had she known Natalie would agree before even she had? Though, the lack of surprise might just be from a stoic nature. Or disinterest. Natalie might be reading into things.
Certainly, the decision Natalie had made wouldn’t be a given for all people. Despite the class being guaranteed to be powerful, not everyone would take it. Not knowing the class you were picking … there was serious risk, there. Even three choices weren’t enough options to make people comfortable.
The plinths holding Natalie’s classes sank into the glass-like water. Natalie’s heart jumped, seeing her potential future vanish, for everything to become so suddenly unknown. She vibrated with nerves.
“So,” Natalie said. “What is it?”
“Goodbye, Natalie,” The Bestower said, turning away.
Natalie blinked, not expecting the response. She opened her mouth to call out—
***
And her eyes shot open.
The empty, moonlit church greeted her.
For a moment, she sat there in silence, perched atop the cushion Elder Britt had placed down for her.
Her unlocking had ended, and she didn’t even know what class she’d received?
She scrambled to her feet. Adrenaline doused her, and she tried to fight through the panic and shock, to wrestle some sort of clear-mindedness back. It took effort. Natalie had never had great control over her emotions. At least the dead-silent church provided no distractions.
Okay.
So.
The Bestower hadn’t told her what class she’d got, but there was a way to determine one’s class and skills. Obviously. Unlockings were a one time event. How would people know their level and skills as they progressed, without something of the sort?
Looking inward, Natalie quested out. It was something she’d never done before, but everyone with a class—so, everyone over the age of eighteen—was given a basic skill, [Inspect].
***
Natalie / Level 1
Paladin of Lust
Stats
Furor: F
Tenacity: F+
Prowess: F-
Gear
Weapon Slot 1: <Unused>
Weapon Slot 2: <Unused>
Equipment Slot 1: <Unused>
Equipment Slot 2: <Unused>
Equipment Slot 3: <Unused>
Equipment Slot 4: <Unused>
***
Natalie’s brain locked up.
‘Paladin of Lust’?
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Huh?
That was her class name?
The oddity of having the information placed in her head—at experiencing the [Inspect] skill for the first time—went ignored over the much more shocking item of interest.
Paladin of Lust?
What in the world?
What kind of class was that?
‘Paladin’. That was the easier part to digest. Paladins were, to Natalie’s knowledge, rare, but not unheard-of. They held to a specific god, which their powers were derived from. Or, ‘held’ in a loose sense. Natalie didn’t know if it required actual worship. But paladins revolved around an aspect—a theme—which were tied to a specific god or goddess.
So, ‘Lust’? Who was the god of lust? Truth told, there were too many to keep track of, and Natalie had never paid attention to Elder Britt’s lectures. She knew the Upper Pantheon, of course, because everyone did. But only the most common of the Lower: Setrus, The Trickster, or Thorne, God of the Forge, and so on.
But it didn’t matter who her patron was. What mattered was … what it meant. Implied.
And weren’t Paladins half-mages? A fighter-mage hybrid was the most accurate way to put it, but paladins were definitely spellcasters, as a whole.
Natalie, a mage? Even as a hybrid, the idea was laughable. Proficiency with magic was so … antithetical to her … that Natalie felt like she ought to laugh.
It was what she’d been worried over, accepting an unknown class. Getting something unsuited to her. Natalie didn’t know how to cast spells. Classes only amplified, not created from nothing. Even someone without a mage class could cast a spell, just never to the level of a real mage. It was how places like Tenet sorted for candidates before they reached their unlocking. Aptitude was proven before a class was obtained. And Natalie had aptitude in fighting … but definitely not casting.
What had she expected? She’d known it would be a mystery what she received. Honestly, at least a Paladin was half a fighter. She fit somewhat with the class.
But Natalie was shying away from the actual problem.
The whole … ‘lust’ part.
What the hell did it mean? Or entail?
Surely not … ?
What other interpretations were there?
Natalie didn’t get to stew in silence for long. Adrenaline and shock had masked something obvious from her, but as she came down—slowly, and certainly not all the way—something attention-grabbing forced her focus away from her class’s name, and all the implications.
Something … somehow even more shocking.
Her body.
Something had changed.
Something between her legs. Something was there, that hadn’t been, before.
What?
For the second time, Natalie’s brain blanked out.
She pulled on her waistband and looked down. The fabric to her pants didn’t yield much, only letting Natalie pull a few inches out, and it was dark inside the moonlit church, but it was enough to identify the problem. To … discern the invader.
The piece of biology that had definitely not been there before.
She had a cock.
A dick. Tucked into her underwear. It sat there, soft and wrinkly and … dick-like.
Natalie went dizzy. She let her waistband snap back. Now that she’d noticed the invader, the sensation couldn’t be ignored. She felt it. She felt her pants pressing against it. Maybe someone who’d had one their whole life would be able to ignore the pressure, having grown used to it, but Natalie had never had something pressed against her cock.
“What the fuck,” Natalie said.
Natalie didn’t have a habit of talking to herself, but considering the circumstances? She felt she could be excused. The words escaped her mouth without her input.
She had a cock.
Her class had given it to her. Her ‘Paladin of Lust’ class, the impossible fourth option.
The gods had given her a cock. As if things hadn’t been strange enough.
Even through her paralyzing confusion, she had one question wrestle to the forefront of her mind:
But why?
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