by Felix Craft
The slim woman smiled at me. “Underestimating the quarterstaff. Classic noob move.”
“Yeah, well,” I muttered, flexing my hands. They still hurt like two Molotov cocktails burned in them, but they didn’t seem broken. Now I just had to get my weapon back, for whatever good it did me the first time. Hopefully Leesha was faring better than me.
Diving at the woman and trying to rest the staff from her hands didn’t work — I just earned another bonk to the head for that. Trying to retrieve my axe was equally unsuccessful. Bruises littered every inch of my skin, including under my armor from Thunder’s earlier hammer blow. I was burning to get close and finish her off. How, though, eluded me.
Out of desperation, I used Juggernaut and charged. I avoided getting tripped somehow, and though she rained blows down on me, none were enough to stop my charge. Sparrow’s eyes went wide, and she thrust out her quarterstaff as if to hold me back. I grabbed hold of it and twisted it savagely away, breaking her slight grasp on it, then threw it aside and tackled her to the ground. We struggled for a bit, but it was no contest. I drew a knife and stabbed her, and that was that.
Rising, I looked over to see how Leesha’s battle was progressing, only to find her grinning and walking toward me, Thunder bowed to the ground behind her. “Looks like you don’t need my help this time!”
The crowd rose up and cheered for us once more.
But as Leesha and I reunited for our pow-wow, I found I wasn’t as filled with excitement as I thought I’d be. Her situation was too much on my mind. I stood in front of her.
She stared at me, the happiness of the moment evaporating. “What?”
“Tell me what your job is.”
Her expression twisted, the elation from before quickly gone. “Why are you doing this right now? I already said, I’m not telling you!”
I didn’t know why I had to know so desperately, but I pressed on still. “Even if we win, you could have to go back to it. There’s no guarantee any factions will take you in. Besides, the admins might kick you out for being mixed up with me.”
“They might do that even if we lose!” Leesha blew off a big sigh. “Look, I made the decision to help you. My decision. You don’t get to go back on that, no matter what I do.”
It had to be bad, if she wouldn’t tell me. I tightened my jaw, but she was right. I couldn’t tell her what to do. I just had to let it go.
She quickly dictated a strategy, and I nodded, barely listening. I was too caught up in what I knew I was about to do.
That final run across the arena was the strangest of all. I almost felt disconnected from myself. I’d made a decision, but it almost seemed like it had been made for me. When I saw what winning could do to Leesha, it almost didn’t matter what losing might do to me. How could I make her lose everything she had here, which was her whole world?
Thunder was only a short distance away when I slowed.
“What are you doing?” Leesha yelled at me as she ran by, heading for Sparrow again. She was going to incapacitate the mage for a moment, then we were both going to attack Thunder to ensure he went down.
But as the big man reached me, I didn’t engage him. I barely held up my battle-axe. My jaw clenched tight, and I waited as the big man’s eyes widened, then he swung that impossibly huge battle-axe at me.
The world went flying away. I came to just before I slammed against the ground, and nearly blacked out again. I struggled to my knees, if only because lying down seemed too suspicious. I knew I was going to be laid low soon anyway.
“Zane!” I thought I heard Leesha yell. Then Thunder grunted above me, and the hammer blow came to my back.
When I came awake again, pain filled every cavity of my body. I didn’t even have the strength to rise. It was too many respawns in a row, I knew. For the next one, I might not wake for the rest of the round, or maybe even long after.
Leesha yelled. Thunder roared. A body collapsed next to me. I stared over into Leesha’s eyes as they met mine for a moment. Blood trickled down her forehead, and her face was drawn in pain and rage. She was trying to get up, but a shadow fell over us. Turning, I saw — as if in slow motion — Thunder raising his hammer, ready to bring it down in the final blow. This was it. The end of the line. We’d come this close, but my last stupid act of chivalry had stopped our win.
I closed my eyes. It was exactly as I’d intended. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Stop!”
I flinched as Lord MythRune’s thundering voice washed over us. Opening my eyes, I saw his projection had appeared once more above us, and was looking severely down upon Thunder. “Move away from them!” the tournament lord commanded the big man. After hesitating the moment, our competitor did, mumbling as he lowered his hammer.
The crowd was alive with protests at the interruption. No doubt even some of Leesha and my fans were among them. Nobody wanted the round to be disturbed.
Lord MythRune looked up again and addressed the restless audience. “Good people of Mythgard!” he boomed. “Have not all these champions fought valiantly today?”
Haphazard cheers went up, most no doubt too uncertain about what he was getting at to be enthusiastic.
“When all have struggled so much,” the lord continued, “and overcome so much to be here, is it not fitting to reward them for all those efforts?”
The response was lukewarm this time, but Lord MythRune seemed impervious to it.
“Then, in my own name, I name all four of these competitors — Sparrow, Thunder, Leesha, and Zane — Champions of MythRune!”
Now the protests and boos really came alive. I’d sat up at this point, and at an impatient gesture from the giant projection above us, I rose to my feet. My pains fell away suddenly, and my meters were back to full. Leesha was apparently healed too, for she rose to her feet, looking dazed as she stared around. Thunder, who stood nearby, looked pissed off. He yelled something at us, but I couldn’t hear over the racket the crowd was making. Sparrow was walking over to join us, her expression dark.
“All right, off you go,” Lord MythRune said, then flicked his hand. The next moment, the world broke away from under me, and the falling sensation came.
32
The Tournament Lord
When the world reformed, I found we’d been teleported to the entrance of a grand palace. It looked like castles from every continent had been mashed together and then made bigger, like everything in Mythgard. It was so mind-bogglingly big, I couldn’t see the end of it in either direction, and the tops of the towers were lost in clouds above. A quick check of my map showed we weren’t far from the Coliseum. It was only then I thought to look back and see the big arena looming behind us. Still, from our vantage point higher up, even that didn’t seem all that big.
Leesha and our two competitors were next to me, and someone else was before us. I looked up to see a figure that had quickly become familiar in the past three days. Lord MythRune stared down at us, looking exactly as his projection had made him out to be — glowing eyes under the huge helm, tough gray skin under the spiky armor, and massive muscles. The tournament lord was no pushover. His level was crazy high, too. His stats listed him as Level 280. Obviously, nobody was meant to even be able to touch him.
“Welcome, champions,” Lord MythRune said. He spread his arms out. “Welcome to my humble abode!”
He sounded more familiar than ever now that I wasn’t hearing his voice through any sort of speakers. I screwed up my eyes at him. Why did he sound so familiar?
We all mumbled thanks as the tournament lord continued. “Now I expect you’ll be looking for your rewards, won’t you?”
Here it was! The moment I’d been waiting so long for and had tried so desperately to achieve. Impatience pushed aside curiosity. It was almost too much for me to stand there and wait my turn.
Lord MythRune nodded at our competitors. “Thunder, Sparrow, you will find the appropriate amount of prize money in each of your accounts. Don’t spend it all in on
e place! Now off you go.”
Before the pair could thank him or say anything else, Lord MythRune waved a hand, and they disappeared into smoke. “Now, as for you two. You’re a more interesting pair. Barely of level to qualify, yet here you are! It seems like you deserve a special prize, doesn’t it?”
“M’lord?” Leesha inquired meekly.
“Oh, don’t go m’lording me now! Let’s start with you, Leesha. What do you want here in MythRune? Remember, most things are within my power to grant.”
Leesha bit her lip, the tension of the decision eating her up inside. Me, I knew exactly what I’d ask for, and it killed me to have to wait for so long. Still, this was an important decision. I couldn't be an asshole and rush her now.
“What I want more than anything …” Leesha’s voice trailed off.
“Go on,” Lord MythRune urged. It was strange, seeing such a huge, muscled creature like him acting sensitive.
“I want to be a full-time Runer,” Leesha blurted at once. “To not need a job outside of MythRune, but have all the money I needed in-game.”
“Aha! A true gamer after my own heart.” Lord MythRune nodded appreciatively. “Very well. I grant your request. From now on, you’ll have a weekly stipend sufficient to support a modest lifestyle both in-game and out. Is that well?”
Leesha looked like she was about to cry as she nodded.
“Good. Now you.” Lord MythRune turned towards me. “You’re a trickier one.”
My heart was pounding. I was a bit thrown off by his mention of gamers and MythRune as a game. That sounded more like player talk than NPC talk. How many AI here were aware of this just being a game? It seemed all wrong.
But I couldn’t worry about all that. This was my moment. “I don't think I am, actually. All I want as my prize is to talk to Danny. Danny Germaine, creator of MythRune.”
The tournament lord chuckled. “Oh, I think you’re more complicated than you know. See, I do know Danny. Quite intimately in fact. But you can’t see him, not the way you want to.”
My pulse quickened, and a vein in my throat began throbbing. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Zane, that Danny is already here. He is standing before you.” Lord MythRune raised his arms up as if in triumph. “You see, I am Danny.”
33
Payback is a Bitch
For a moment, all I could do was stare. Then I cracked a smile. “Ha-ha. Very funny joke. But really, I do need to see Danny. I’m stuck in his game, and—”
“Zane — or should I say Z?” The tournament lord lifted one gauntleted hand to his helmet. “Perhaps you just need to see for yourself.” With one swift movement, he drew the helmet off and tossed it aside to the stone tiles under our feet. I stared at Lord MythRune’s revealed face. The resemblances were obvious, even if Danny had exaggerated masculinity at every opportunity, and if Lord MythRune wore a beard while Danny did not. Compensating for something, no doubt. But still, that didn’t prove anything.
“So what? So Danny made you look like him.” I paused. “And talk like him, too, I guess. But what does that prove?”
“Nothing,” Lord MythRune conceded. “But I’m telling you the truth, Z. I am Danny’s consciousness, locked inside the game. He loves this game. Don’t you understand that? It’s so much a part of him he put himself in here, in me. He would never destroy it, never. The jump-drive he handed you — that was never its intention.”
His words washed over me. In one ear and out the other. I could only manage a single word. “Okay.”
“It’s important to me that you know this,” Lord MythRune continued. “Because I brought you here for a very specific reason. Let me put this another way. I trapped you for a reason.”
I was burning to know what explanation this NPC had, but I didn’t trust that this was actually Danny. Despite all the similarities, it wasn’t evidence I could rely on in a virtual world, where literally everything was created and therefore subject to scrutiny. Most likely Danny had just been a bit self-indulgent and created a character like him.
But then again, why wouldn’t it be Danny? He would have put himself in charge of the tournament. Didn’t that make sense? Maybe there was another reason I was distrustful of it. Maybe it was because I didn’t want this to be Danny because I didn’t want to face what Lord MythRune’s words meant otherwise.
“You’re saying you, Danny, trapped me. Why would you do that?”
“Oh, don’t act so skeptical, Z. You always were distrustful. Something to do with your serial foster care status, I guess.”
A vein pulsed in my temple. “So, Danny programmed some of his memories into you. Listen, video game character. You’re not going to make me believe my childhood friend invited me to his office just to trap me in the virtual world he built. That’s insane.”
Lord MythRune tsked and took his head. “Oh, Zane. Don’t you remember everything before that?”
“Like what?”
“Like letting your jock friends shoulder check me in the halls, or do whatever else they liked just because they were bigger, stronger, more popular. Like joining with them. But you wouldn’t remember that, would you? It didn’t mean anything to you. My misery didn’t matter.”
I flushed at the memories. I remembered. I remembered all too well. Every time I’d done it — made fun of the way he dressed, or the hunched way he carried himself — I’d hated myself a little bit more inside. But what could I do? I’d wanted to fit in so badly. Every teenager wanted that. I couldn’t be blamed for that still, could I? So much as to trap me and maybe even kill me, or land me in jail? “Insane,” I muttered, and Lord MythRune smirked at me.
But what other explanation did I have? I’d always thought it was strange that Danny could create this whole world around me, yet botch a simple bug so badly that it affected me the way it did. Didn’t it make more sense that he’d done this on purpose? Maybe Lord MythRune was Danny. Maybe this whole taunting act really wasn’t just a computer, but Danny himself, showing all his true emotions for me.
Leesha, who I’d basically been ignoring, looked between us two. “Are you both serious? I have no idea what’s going on here.”
“That makes two of us,” I said. “So how about we just cut the crap. Lord MythRune, I’d like my prize. I’d like to get the hell out of here.”
The tournament lord began chuckling, low and sinister. I almost rolled my eyes at how over the top it was. Except this particular individual held my fate in his hands. Whether I left or stayed depended entirely on him.
“You still don’t understand.” Lord MythRune took a step further down the stairs toward me.
I took a step back, watching warily.
“I’m not letting you go,” he siad. “No. I’m going to show you every bit of pain you caused me throughout my life. You see, I didn’t give you that deathless glitch to help you. You’ve done well with it, true enough. But its true purpose is to make you feel as much pain as possible. Have you enjoyed dying, old friend? Over and over again?” Lord MythRune smirked as he continued toward me. “I don’t know what that’s like anymore. I never die, and I never will.”
I backed away, but there was a closed gate behind us, with a huge padlock dangling from the bars. I wouldn’t get out that way. Beside me, Leesha had drawn her knives and was readying her stance, eyes narrowed at the advancing man.
I didn’t go for my weapon. What was the point? He was nearly thirty times my level. No way I could come close to even scratching him.
“So, what?” I demanded. “You’re just going to keep killing me and waiting for me to come back? Torture me?”
Lord MythRune’s smile widened. “I suppose so.”
Something wasn’t adding up. This wasn’t Danny. No matter how much this character knew about Danny’s life, it wasn’t Danny. I’d never seen him this vindictive in my life. Sure, he liked calling himself Danny the Destroyer, but that was just for play.
Danny the Destroyer. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. I kept in m
ind, just in case.
“There’s still one thing bothering me,” I said to the tournament lord as he continued to advance and Leesha and I continued to back away. “If you’re Danny’s consciousness in the game, then Danny is also somewhere else, right?”
He paused for a moment, then growled, “Damn you.”
I crossed my arms. “Call him up. Let’s see what the real Danny has to say about this whole situation. Somehow, I doubt he’d agree with how you’re treating me.”
Suddenly, the character’s face, before composed, now twisted with rage and anger. “You’ll never find him,” Lord MythRune hissed. “I’ve hidden him far, far beyond your reach! And you’re not leaving this palace!”
I grew even more confident my idea was right. “Let’s see about that.” I opened my inventory and took out a certain useless item that had been rattling around there since I’d first entered the game — The Dice of Danny the Destroyer.
Leesha eyed them as they appeared in my hand. “Those again? Hardly a time for a dice game.”
“I’m taking a gamble.” Looking Lord MythRune in the eyes, I cast them.
The metal dice clinked against the stone as they tumbled across the courtyard, coming to a stop at the big man’s feet. The fake Danny looked down at them, a mix of confusion and bemusement on his face. I watched, waiting, waiting for something to happen. This was it. It had to be it.
But nothing happened. Lord MythRune, with a rough laugh, kicked them back at me. I watched in mute shock as they came tumbling back toward me, close enough to read the dots as they settled. Snake eyes — the unluckiest roll. A pit dropped in my stomach. I’d hoped Danny had provided us a secret weapon, knowing something was wrong, but the dice did nothing. He — and I — were in deep shit.
Then the dice completely stilled, and the two single dots began to glow blue. As did Lord MythRune.
Horror turned to hope as the tournament lord began to scream in pain. “Make it stop! Make it stop!” But the blue light continued to spread, obscuring everything I could see of him and growing so bright I had to shield my eyes. A smell like burning rubber filled the air as the fake Danny’s screams began to fade.