Brin had a dozen things he needed to do now.

Investigate the [Digger].

His Class avatars had practically begged him to look into that guy.

He also needed to figure out a way to investigate the [Laundress] and the [Trapper] without being obvious about it.

He’d gotten away with accepting the hospitality of Bruna and Chamylla because they’d already shown they were trustworthy, but he couldn’t keep doing that going forward.

He also wanted to follow Hogg and Effa to the public house and see what was going on there.Also hadn’t someone mentioned that there were adventurers still hanging around? Someone must have told them that the town was being quietly besieged.

So far, Brin had followed the custom of most of the town and ignored them, since adventurers typically came and went fairly quickly.

But these ones hadn’t.

He wanted to meet them.He also needed to look into getting the ingredients for a potion of Turn Undead.

On second thought, he didn’t think it was smart to sneak out himself, not yet.

But maybe Hogg could be convinced to go along? He would find a way, because he wanted that potion.

With [Witches] on the loose, it was basically a guarantee that he’d run into undead sooner or later, and that had been his best weapon against them back when he was Classless and defenseless.

He wasn’t much stronger than he’d been back then, and he was vastly underequipped.On that note, he also wanted to talk to Toros.

The [Smith] had an ability that let him transform gemstones into magical metals.

Did that mean he could transform metal into glass?A lot to do, but he’d be able to get started on all of it, as long as he… as long as he didn’t think about…He was ten years old, sitting on a table in the park.

Brin, no Mark.

He was Mark then.

Mark was uncomfortable in the chilly October air, but his mom had told him to bring a jacket three times and he’d said he didn’t need it, so he wasn’t going to complain about being cold.His mom.

She was sitting on the other end, looking so young.

He thought he’d forgotten the exact brown color of her hair, the sound of her voice.

It was strange to think you could forget things like that about people you talked to every day, but maybe memory isn’t designed to remember things you see all the time.

Maybe if he never saw the sun again, he would forget what it was like.She was chatting with her best friend.

He couldn’t remember the friend’s name, then or now.

He didn’t know if he ever knew it.

The friend had a son, Shawn, and even though Mark’s mom and Shawn’s mom desperately wanted them to be best friends, it had never really happened.

Shawn was all about baseball and Mark never tried to be interested.Shawn was on the playground, but Mark had started thinking himself to be too old for playgrounds.

Also, they’d replaced the big dangerous metal tower with a soft and safe plastic playground that was no fun at all, so Mark had sat down with a kid’s encyclopedia.These ancient peoples used obsidian to create weapons, jewelry, and knives.

Obsidian is a naturally occurring glass made from the intense heat of volcanic reactions.Soon, Mark closed the book and dashed over to the playground.“Are you ok?”It was Myra.He was standing in the middle of the road, blinking awkwardly, and of all people, Tawna’s daughter Myra had found him like that.Myra was on track to be as pretty as her mother someday, and she had a matching venomous personality, although Brin was pretty sure she only acted that way towards him because she thought she was supposed to.

They hadn’t really talked at all since the night of the spring festival.

He wasn’t really sure where they stood.

Right now, her face showed none of her usual scorn, just concern, and a little hesitation.“I’m fine.

Just thinking,” said Brin.“No you’re not,” said Myra.She was right.

The memory of his mom left him so homesick he felt like he could puke.

He’d always thought ‘homesick’ was just an expression, but he was really, physically feeling sick.

He felt a chill, and sweat beaded on his forehead.He wanted to tell Myra he was fine again to get her to leave, but a memory blasted into him.

A day at the beach.

“This isn’t the kind of sand they make glass out of.

For that you need–” No! He shut the memory out.Another memory came, and another, a swirling cacophony of images and sound and painful, beautiful emotion.“Brin.

Brin!” said Myra.“I’m not ok.

Just need to get home,” said Brin.“I’ll walk you.

Here.” She put his arm around her shoulders.

Totally unnecessary.

It wasn’t his body that was sick.“Thanks,” he said.“What's going on?” she said, guiding him towards Hogg’s house.There was no use in lying.

He’d already told Ademir about the memory Skill.

There was no reason to keep it a secret.

It was nice, to not have to hide.“I–” A particularly poignant argument with his ex hit him right in the heart.

Browsing a wikipedia article, not noticing she’d been trying to talk to him.

He’d–no.

He wasn’t doing this now.

What had he been about to say?“I took a memory Skill.

[Memories of Glass].

I remember everything I ever learned about glass, which was way more than I bargained for.” Ok, a slight fib, but close enough.

“The memories are complete, though.

I remember everything I saw and felt at the time.”“Isn’t that great? You said you couldn’t remember your life before the…” She idly flicked the scar on his forehead.“And now I do,” said Brin.“Is it that bad?” she asked.“Some of it’s good and some of it’s bad.

It’s just too much,” said Brin.

“How are you doing?”She laughed.

“Come, now.”“No, I mean it,” said Brin.

“Help me get my mind on something else.

The memories fade back if I’m really focused on something different.”“Ok… I’m level ten! Levels slow down a lot after you hit ten, but I bet I’ll get to eleven soon.

I still have to use the loom, though, and I work all day on something that takes my mom seconds to do, but hey, it’s a start,” said Myra.“Does it help to have her training you or does it get in the way?” asked Brin.“A little of both, I think,” said Myra.

“I think having her show me the best techniques speeds up my leveling, but the fact that no one really needs me slows it down.

Especially now that, well… that’s another story.”They lapsed into silence, and Brin felt the intrusive memories rising up, like bile on the top of his esophagus.“What’s another story? Keep talking, please.”“It’s not like you don’t know what happened.

So now, Hammon’s Bog suddenly doesn’t have a lot of use for textiles.

It’ll pass eventually, I’m sure, but for now… Well, a [Weaver] needs someone to use our cloth to get full experience.

They’ll cave eventually, they have to, but until then? I might be at level ten for a while.

Not that I’m complaining.

Compared to what she went through, it's nothing.”“How is she doing?” asked Brin.Myra’s mouth made a firm line.

“Don’t pretend like you care.”“You’re right.

Sorry.

You’re doing ok, though?”She sighed.“Sorry.

My relationship with my mom was… complicated.

I’m starting to learn,” said Brin.

His relationship with his mom on earth wasn’t bad at all, but he’d heard from Solia’s lips that the previous owner of his body had been treated badly by his mother.“Well, mine isn't! None of you see her the way I do, and that’s fine.

You don’t need to.

But to me, she’s my sweet and gentle mom.

She would do anything if she thought it would help me.

Anything, Brin.

Torturing orphans is on the table.”Her smirk looked a little hesitant, probably wondering if that was a bit too far.He burst out laughing, full hearty gales of laughter.

It probably went on a bit too long, but it felt good and chased away some of the cobwebs that his memories were building in his mind.“Thanks.

I needed that.”She just nodded with a pleased harrumph.

“No more mom talk though.”“Ok, then tell me what’s going on with you and Zilly?”“You should ask her that!” Myra snapped.

“Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she doesn’t want to hang out with the new town pariah!”Pariah? Wasn’t she one of the three golden children? Looking around, he saw that the postures of the townsfolk were a bit less open than they had been recently.

This time, it wasn’t him they were concerned about.

It was her.“I’m sure she doesn’t think like that.

It never stopped her from hanging around me,” said Brin.“Yeah because you’re a cute boy.” She blushed, realizing what she’d just said, and hurried on.

“Or maybe it’s because of her fancy new [Warrior] Class.

She doesn’t want to be seen around us lowly Commoners.”That one actually hit a little close to home.

Zilly had been acting fairly high and mighty lately.

Still, he thought better of her.

“I’m sure you know that she doesn’t think like that.”“Well, then, you’ll have to ask her, like I said,” said Myra.

“But if you were to knock some sense into her, that would be fabulous.

Someone needs to take her down a peg?”“Yeah, hm, that would be good,” said Brin.“Wait.” Myra studied his face.

With his arm over her shoulders, their faces were pretty close.

“You already did.

Did you two get into a fight?”“She tried to pick a fight with me.

All I did was knock her sword away and push her back a bit.”“You what? You’re my hero!”She smiled at him, and then apparently realized who she was looking at, because her face went cold.

“We’re here.” She pushed his arm away.“Thanks,” said Brin.She mumbled something and darted away.Left alone with nothing but his memories, Brin barely made it to his bedroom before he was overwhelmed again.This time, instead of fighting it, he let himself fall in, moving from memory to memory, taking it all in.

He’d need to do this eventually, he realized.

He couldn’t live with this until he took some time to get used to it.The memories were sometimes joyous, sometimes painful or sad, but mostly they were normal.

Once he got over the initial shock of seeing his friends and family again, the punch started to go away.

They weren’t all pivotal moments, most were just memories of him alone with a book, or staring at a computer.He also realized he wasn’t going to reform the glass world overnight.

There was a lot of information there, but processing and organizing it was going to take a lot of time.

Also, it was everything he’d ever learned about glass, even if the thing he’d learned was wrong.

The System wasn’t going to be an arbiter of truth for him.The biggest surprise were the lessons with Ademir.

He remembered the first few days in the glass shop in perfect detail, although the subsequent lessons grew more foggy.

This was only memories where he learned something about glass, not every time he was in the presence of glass.Lost in thought, he wasn’t sure how long it took for Hogg to find him.Hogg stood in his doorway, snapping.

“Hey, wake up.”“Hm?”“I asked, did you take your third General Skill yet?”“No, not yet,” said Brin.“Good.

Take [Meditation],” said Hogg.“Really? I thought you should never take a Skill that you can learn on your own,” said Brin.“Usually, yes.

But in this case, it’s something that you need.

And I’ve heard that [Meditation] takes on some magical benefits at higher levels.

Nothing dependable or I’d take it myself, but worth a shot, especially since you need it anyway.

You’ll need to organize your brain a bit, so that you don’t get lost.

Sorry, I should have seen this coming.

Usually memory skills aren’t like this.

You get them early in your career to help you remember things you will learn, not to get an entire lifetime of memories zapped into your consciousness all at once.”Without a second thought, Brin selected [Meditation].

You have selected a General Skill: Meditation.