Chapter 7: Chapter 7: Clans

Chapter 7: Clans

 

Following the directions of his trusty ring, Parth walked to his destination.

A juice bar was all well and good, but he could live without it. It was something good, but not essential to his daily routine. This here though, was a matter of life and death.

With beady eyes, he surveyed the merchandise in front of him. He even took a few samples and sniffed them to see if the aroma was right. The sample pieces were there for testing. He’d be a fool not to do so. He was not above getting his hands dirty to fuel his addiction.

“Find what you’re looking for?” asked a voice from behind.

He turned around to see a stocky middle-aged man. A thick beard covered the lower half of his face, while the medium-length hair on his head was swept back. He looked Caucasian. His clothes though, were not of earthly origin. He wore a long black tunic that flared out, and white pants that tapered down. A metallic bronze material ran across the cloth in place of the seams. The same material highlighted the neck, the cuffs, and the hem of the tunic. A belt made of the same material ran across his hips, over the tunic, holding it down in place. Parth noticed a ring-like tattoo that ran around the man’s middle finger.

That was another thing he had noticed during his morning jaunt. Many people over here had some tattoo or the other.

The man was sitting behind the counter when he entered, but there were not many customers at this hour, so he must have decided to approach Parth.

“I think so. Just trying to decide between these two,” said Parth as he pointed towards the merchandise.

“Another coffee addict eh?” the man guffawed.

“Guilty,” Parth chucked and held out his hand. “I’m Parth,” he introduced himself.

“Viggo,” the man said as he shook Parth’s hand. "Let's solve your confusion then. I'll brew two small samples each. Try them out, and pick whichever you like best."

"I just had a huge serving of milkshake, so I don't have much space left," said Parth.

“Bah, you’re just gonna take a few small sips. Not down a jug full of it. Come with me,” Viggo said and dragged Parth to the other side of the shop where several coffee machines were lined up.

“I use this area to let people try out both the beans and the machines. So if you’re in the market for a machine, look no further,” he said unprompted and stopped in front of the machines.

"I'm not sure about the machines just yet. The place I'm staying at has them. When I move out though, I'm sure I'll need one," replied Parth as he picked the two kinds of beans he was mulling over.

"Well, you know where to buy from then," said Viggo as he scooped the beans and fed them to two separate machines. They both were of the same make and model, so the taste wouldn’t be different due to the process of brewing the coffee.

As the coffee began brewing, Parth hummed deep in thought.

"Do you have filters instead of machines? I'd pick one right now if you do. A coffee filter or a coffee press, either would do," said Parth.

Viggo turned around toward Parth and scrutinized him for a few moments.

"Most of our machines have multiple modes, including drip brews, special filters, and plungers. Only a few settlements down in the thirty-ninth sector swear by the analog variants. You from there?"

“Not really,” Parth responded absentmindedly. He wondered whether some of the voyagers from his homeland had settled down in that sector. But then again, the history of this world was vastly different. They could have invented all this stuff without any input from Earth.

"I can source them for you if you want," Viggo said after thinking in silence for a brief moment.

“Yeah I’d be down for that,” Parth immediately responded.

“Done. I’ll talk to a friend and send you a brochure once I get it,” he said.

Before they could continue the conversation, the coffee machines pinged in unison and the aroma of rich coffee wafted out of them.

Viggo quickly picked up two small metallic cups and took around ten milliliters of coffee in each. Parth initially thought that he would need to struggle with different measurement systems, but he soon found out that Tava used the systems that he was familiar with. It baffled him how that happened. Even if they were somehow parallel worlds, the names and units at least ought to be different. It happened with a lot of things over here.  

Parth didn't waste much time in tasting the beverage from the two cups and comparing them. After a few minutes, he finally came to a decision.

“I’ll take this one for now. When you get your hands on one of the filters, can you see if there are any blends that the locals down in sector thirty… nine, yes, the ones in sector thirty-nine use,” said Parth as he squinted his eyes while recalling the correct sector number.

They kept walking as they talked, and Parth picked up a bag of the blend he had selected. It seemed to hold half a kilogram of the stuff. That would be enough for now.

“Sure, I’ll ask around. Any preferences?” Viggo asked.

“If you get the filters, then a composition that has some amount of roasted chicory would work best. Not more than thirty percent of it in the composition though,” he said.

Viggo looked at Parth once more with an odd expression before nodding his head. He then messed around with his own ring for a few seconds, and Parth’s ring chimed with a payment request. Two more credits spent for the day, Parth looked at the remaining balance. Forty-nine thousand, nine hundred ninety-six credits sat in his account.

“Are these clothes new in the market? I haven’t seen this specific outfit anywhere?” Viggo asked Parth right before he was about to leave.

“Kind of? I was told that they’ll be out soon,” Parth replied.

“So, all set for the Centurial Challenge then?” he asked abruptly.

Parth stilled for a second as he did not know how to respond to that.

"What? Your clan didn't set up anything yet. We ringers are going to go wild. It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing for us. Most don't live in the correct time to truly appreciate it."

Parth still didn’t know how to respond to it. He mentally cursed Roul something fierce for not telling him about these things before letting him free. Then again, if it was anything serious, he would have been warned.

“What happened, kid?” asked Viggo curiously.

“Umm, I don’t think I belong to any clan,” he answered slowly.

Viggo froze for a moment and then guffawed loudly. He kept laughing for a good few seconds before he stopped.

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“Oh dear, that was a good joke. I’ve never met a human that didn’t belong to a clan. See here, I’m a ringer,” he said as he showed Parth the ring-like tattoo on his middle finger.

The tattoo was essentially two crisscrossing lines running around the finger like a ring.

Parth immediately came to a conclusion and lifted the left sleeve of his sweatshirt, displaying his flaming armband of a tattoo.

“Aha, a pygilist then. You lads generally throw great parties. What happened? You new to town and didn’t meet the local bunch yet?” he asked.

Parth sighed as he finally gave up. He didn't like being in the dark like this. Before the end of the day, he'd make sure to get the proper reading material about this place. He decided to try with the ring first and see if there were any digital resources.

He was glad that there was nobody else in the shop.

It was not like his status as a voyager was supposed to be a secret. So, he materialized the left gauntlet for a second and vanished it immediately. 

“Ha, I knew that you were a voyager,” said Viggo with glee.

“How?” asked a stumped Parth. It seemed like he was only asking questions as of late and doing nothing else.

"Well, your clothes for one. New styles only come to the market after things settle down a bit. I've read that they're always busy at first preparing everyone for the first trial. Other than that, it was just the way you were talking about things. Just too new to the place, you know?"

“Yeah I get it,” sighed Parth.

“Cheer up. I suppose you weren’t told what clans were?” asked Viggo.

“Nope. My temporary advisor only told me what was barely necessary. After the team allocation, we’ll have a permanent advisor and they’ll tell us everything in detail.”

“Some folks would be like that. It’s twice the work for them. You don’t need it though. I suppose you only got your ring recently?” Viggo asked.

“Got it just this morning.”

"Then just spend some time on the archives tonight. The ring has everything you want to know. I'll tell you about clans anyway. You see, a clan is basically the descendants of voyagers. That's the most simplified explanation. We bear these tattoos with pride, to honor our ancestors, and to support future voyagers.

“Any human, fairy, or synthire you see are ultimately descended from some voyager or the other. We have these tattoos as a show of support and solidarity. We know that the voyagers are forced to fight the dungeon. They can't filch out of it, so they do it bravely. It is hard for them, but their fight helps everyone all around. We reward them for their efforts, and we reap benefits from it too. During the Centurial Challenge, trade increases drastically. It marks a period of prosperity for the years to come. Once the dungeon shuts down, the voyagers are done with the serious bit."

Parth listened in silence as Viggo continued.

“Many of them survive. That trend has been increasing, since over the years, we Tavans have made it into a well-oiled system. Our support helps most of the voyagers to survive. Once they do, they live life here and gradually start families somewhere down the line. Ours is a good place, it allows everyone to live in good conditions. Especially the voyagers. Money, fame, respect, it's all theirs for the taking. More so, for the Centurion— the winner. They are venerated and given everything they could ask for. We, the descendants benefit from it greatly."

“So, all I have to do is beat the dungeon back into slumber, and I can look forward to a cushy life?” asked Parth.

“Essentially. I am descended from a ringer,” he said as he displayed the ring-like tattoo once again. “More often than not, the streams cross. I am also descended from a couple more voyagers. But the most recent voyager in my family tree had been the ringer, so I belong to the clan. Just like your descendants will be pygilists.”

“The names of the artifacts are the names of the clans then?” Parth asked.

“Yes. It is funny because Emperor Byrone had an eccentric naming sense. Some artifact names are just atrocious, but we love them all the same. I belong to the Ringer clan, but that's always a mouthful so we call ourselves the ringers. Everyone does that for all the clans. The difference between you and a member of the Pygilist clan is that you are THE Pygilist, while they are all just pygilists.”

“Does this cause division within the culture?” Parth couldn’t help but ask more questions. The whole setup was very interesting for him.

“Not normally. Things get heated during the challenge. But it never amounts to anything much. We’re like sports fans, but it is more personal to us,” Viggo said with a smirk.

"Clearly you haven't met sports fans from Earth," chucked Parth. Many of his friends supported their teams rabidly even when the teams were trash.

“Yeah. It’s just that, here the stakes are just a tad bit personal. It never crosses a line, since as I said, crossing streams are common. Many of us are not just descended from one voyager. The clan is more like a brotherhood. Take the Pyglisit for example. You are a human, your descendants will sport a tattoo identical to yours. Whereas, the last Pygilist was a fairy. So her descendants also have the same tattoo. It is a mixed bag. Some people have multiple tattoos since they are descended from multiple voyagers of the same challenge."

“I get it. It is more like a membership club than anything else,” mused Parth.

“Yup. My ancestor might not have won, but if the new Ringer wins, I’ll be overjoyed. It’s a matter of pride. So, know that you will have a hoard of fans supporting you,” said Viggo.

“Well, I just won’t have to disappoint them wouldn’t I?” said Parth. Generally, he would be overcome by pressure due to his losing streak. But he felt confident after the fight against the golem. He felt way better about his chances against the dungeon.

“Yeah, but I will be rooting for the new Ringer. Nothing personal kid,” said Viggo as he pat his shoulder.

"I don't mind. Just don't tell people that I've been here just yet, and we'll be square."

"Deal. Although you better outperform the Choker, you hear? The damn chokers are smug to this day after their previous win. I want to rub it in their faces if the Choker chokes for real," said Viggo.

“What? The Choker? Really?” asked a baffled Parth.

“It’s technically the Honored Choker, but it’s a lot of word vomit. Didn’t I tell you that Emperor Byrone had a twisted naming sense?”

“You did. But even then, it’s just an odd name.”

“Don’t let that fool you. It is a very powerful artifact. Do your research on the ring. It’ll tell you everything way better than I can.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks for telling me all this,” said Parth.

It was an informative conversation for Parth. Viggo had been a good contact to make. Not only for his coffee addiction. Listening to locals about the culture surrounding the Centurial Challenge had been a good experience.

More than anything, it told him that as long as he made it through, he would have a nice life on Viz.

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