[Origin Point]
[Origin Set: Plains of Jeralt]
[Connection Established.]
[Uses Left: 1]
[Confirmation Required]
[Yes] - [No]
Yes
[Request Confirmed - Transfer in Progress]
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[Transferring.]
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[Transferring.]
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[Transferring.]
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[Transfer-
"Are you still buffering? Do you have any magazines? You should keep a bowl of Dum-Dums around—Oh, wait..."
[Transfer complete]
Reiss hit the packed earth with a whoomph. The grass bent to form his shape as he lay unmoving. A soft groan escaped his lips, muffled by clods of dirt and foliage.
His face made a sucking sound as he extricated himself. Reiss rubbed his face, clearing anything that stuck to him. Clean, he faced the sky and waved an angry fist. The system was more than capable of landing him on his feet. However, as more iterations passed, it seemed to get fed up and started flinging him into the ground, spawning him in the sky, or inside a dragon's maw.
Speaking of which...
Reiss swiveled his head around, scanning the horizon. The fields around him rolled for miles in each direction. Scarce trees dotted the landscape, providing the occasional traveler with shade or the migratory birds a resting perch. The sky was a clear blue with nary a cloud.
When he failed to find hide nor hair of any beast, a rumble grew in his chest.
"Scaly worm is probably still reeling from the last hundred iterations."
Standing up, he dusted his roughspun clothes and began to walk South unhurriedly. His mind was lost in thoughts from dozens of different iterations. They overlayed in his mind like tapes from a projector.
Reiss did not need to hurry or run. He smiled fondly at remembering the first time that... time, broke.
=
Reiss bent over on one knee, picking petunias in a prairie. It wasn't an odd thing for Reiss to do. The assortment of flowers was for a wedding in the town over, and considering he was a [Florist], this much was natural.
[Florist: Level 4]
There were only two skills he currently had access to—[Colorful Pairing] and [Quick Picker].
He wasn't a particularly good florist, but he enjoyed the time spent alone surrounded by pleasant scents and mesmerizing hues.
Reiss smiled as he picked a daffodil and gently inhaled the scent.
The combination of his bouquet didn't mean anything in the flower language; if it did, he didn't know it. That was probably one of the reasons he was so low level despite his passion, right alongside the fact that he plucked flowers rather than using any gardening tools. It wasn't his fault. He couldn't afford it.
Monsters were common enough that Reiss didn't dally outside of Jeralt for long. Sometimes he could lure one back home, earning a "finder's fee" from the town Watch who summarily executed the small horned rabbits.
The [Watchmen] and [Watchwomen] called him names but always paid him enough coin for dinner. Whether they were bullies or kind neighbors depended heavily on how much eye contact Reiss made.
Today, bees were out pollinating, along with all manner of local insects. None harmful. They bothered common folk, and towns were riddled with magical repellent trinkets. It only made the insects congregate outside such boundaries.
Reiss loved the insects. Specifically bees. They carried life with them where ever they buzzed. It wasn't that he was a bug enthusiast; he just understood their nature. Not enough to become an [Entomologist].
Luckily Reiss was a [Florist], and the flowers were in full bloom. All the colorful flora that villagers liked to have on their windowsills or thrown out at weddings were in season. Reiss was actually a larger fan of the winter flowers. Particularly the Winter Sprites.
Winter Sprites are a rare silver flower with icy blue striations that smelled like the laughter of children. Strange and entirely inconceivable unless you actually experience it.
Right now, though, Reiss was collecting colorful flowers in no particular order. His clients could never tell the difference.
A glimmer caught Reiss's eye.
In the distance, underneath one of the rare trees present in the fields, was a white flicker. Reiss narrowed his eyes. Glass was usually responsible for that kind of effect, but...
Reiss strode over, closing the distance. The walk was shorter than it should have been. Peering down, he saw the impossible.
Ten Winter Sprites were in full bloom, surrounded by the normal colorful flowers of the season. They chilled the air above them but left the surroundings unchanged.
"How-"
[Warning! Anomaly Detected!]
"An anomaly?"
[Warning! Rupture Detected!]
[Warning! Evacuate The Area!]
[Warning!]
Reiss dropped his bouquet and ran. He tripped. Falling flat.
With the wind knocked out of him, the system continued shouting warnings in his head. He attempted to regain his footing but felt an incredible chill. Reiss looked back and saw his left foot was caught in the sphere of Winter Sprites. The aura froze the foot in place. There was no pain, but he couldn't move.
Reiss struggled. Frost stretched out along his leg, clawing upward.
[Warning! Anomaly Detected]
Panicking and flailing, he clawed at the ground tearing up clumps of dirt. Unearthing natural flowers. To his horror, Winter Sprites took their place, budding and popping up like droves.
They froze his hands—a glacial blue.
Hyperventilating, Reiss tried not to move, disregarding the systems repeating sirens.
If I move, they will shatter.
He didn't want to die. But if he lost his hands? What was a [Florist] without hands?
The ice explored its way up to his limbs as more of its brethren infected the area—a plague of chilling, beautiful death.
Reiss began to hallucinate. The sky turned dark with clouds showering snow.
[Warning! Rupture Detected!]
Day turned to night, turned to clear skies, turned to torrential downpours.
[Warning]
The world's lights flickered on and off, seasons changing.
[Warning!]
Bells rang as laughing children tumbled through the air, playing.
[Warn-
The grass on the prairie grew tall as buildings, and the trees reached the stars. Then they crumbled under their own weight. The stars rained down from the heavens as more blinked out of existence.
Reiss was crushed, drowned, burned, trampled, starved, and atomized as the sun went supernova.
Then all was normal.
He sat on his rear end underneath the same tree. No Winter Sprites were present. The flowers he tore up when fleeing were back in their place, rooted safely. His bouquet lay in his lap. The warning bells of the system were silent.
Reiss passed out.
[Class Gained]
[Regressor: Level 1]
=
Reiss laughed at the memory while zapping insects with lightning. It was an unconscious flex of magical muscle that he barely paid attention to anymore.
"Afterwards, I completely forgot the pain and ran around the village telling everyone about my amazing new class."
Reiss held his stomach as he full-on guffawed.
They flogged me for lying.
Reiss wiped tears from his eyes as he laughed and avoided stepping on a budding lily.
It wasn't uncommon or strange to be flogged like he was. Even back then, the first iteration knew that he couldn't prove his class as he didn't know what it did and only had one skill, [Origin Point].
In a world filled with levels and classes, suddenly spouting about a new unknown class that was somehow unlocked by a nobody [Florist] was equivalent to sacrilege.
I was lucky they only flogged and banished me that first time around.
Sidestepping another patch of flowers, Reiss got control of himself.
That first life started poorly, but it was one of my best.
That iteration of Reiss had no idea what the future held, thus lived unaware and blissful. It was a peaceful existence until everything went to shit.
He finally got to use his only skill upon the eve of his death, leveling up in the class for the first time upon returning.
"2nd Iteration Reiss vowed to set things right."
From there on is history. Reiss fought in almost every iteration. He would fight in this one too.
Reiss halted his last step before he could crush another flower. He paused when he looked down to see a Winter Sprite in full bloom.
"Are you here to torment me? I'm sorry to say I've outgrown your games."
Childish laughter danced around his ears before fading with a strong southern gust.
"Well. I suppose we should make this last time truly unique."
Reiss, quick as a fox, snatched the flower before it could dissipate. The biting cold threatened to burn his fingers off, but he was much too high-level to notice.
In an instant, he crushed the Flower of Memory between both hands. With frost billowing of his palms, he reached up and caressed his short brown hair. Magically, it grew longer as Reiss continued moving his hands. The former brown hue turned a winter white.
His hands didn't stop moving, flowing in a mesemerizing summer dance. His feet moved along with the energy. His now white hair grew longer and longer.
"42 centimeters. The iteration where I met Nell. Lest I lose a part of myself."
His hair grew out healthy and vibrant, swirling around him as he pivoted in place.
"83 centimeters. The iteration where we made our stand. To remember the loss."
The wind picked up and blew fiercely. Rocketing his hair to the heavens as it grew.
"180 centimeters. The iteration where I hid and ran. A coward I became."
The wind was howling, stretching.
The total length of hair was longer than Reiss was tall. It would hinder him and look ridiculous, but he didn't care. That wasn't any reason to stop. Reiss needed to remember. To become everyone, everything he ever was.
"59 centimeters. The iteration where I lost it all before it even began."
A clamoring calm came over the clearing. The fierce gale dying down. Reiss let that last of the flower's energy drift away through his fingertips.
"1 final centimeter. For my first iteration. To who I used to be.."
The plains became deathly silent, and the insects became mute. The long, winding cord of winter white threads started to fall from the sky. Reiss took the stem of the Winter Sprite and used it to tie his hair as it plummeted.
"[Ornamentation]."
In a moment, half was tied up in an elaborate and elegant knot, with nearly 6 feet of it falling softly down towards the ground. It never touched the dirt, always seeming to dance away from the surface.
Reiss finally relaxed. All the tension he built up upon reentry faded into the ether.
Suppose the flower wasn't magical. If Reiss wasn't high-level, and if he didn't have a particular Skill that carried over from one of his first lives as a [Florist]. This feat wouldn't be possible. However, Reiss made it possible.
Because it was important.
Because it was needed.
Because it was right.
Because it was time.
"365 iterations."