Dissonance

by K. T. Hanna

  The sensation felt so damned good.

  But there were things to do now, and Laria knew she wouldn’t get them done reflecting on the memory. Wren was sure the game wanted her in there. Hearing it outside of Somnia made it seem like madness. But while she was in there, Laria had believed, even if just for a second, that her daughter could be right.

  Now that train of thought led to a couple of problems. How did she let Shayla know, and what would Shayla do with the knowledge? Laria glanced to the side, where her set of folders hung in her peripheral vision and frowned. Those reports were another problem. All they had was problems, it seemed. And they desperately needed to get them solved.

  “You’re being awfully quiet over there.” Shayla’s voice pulled Laria out of her contemplations. “Did you manage to run the debugging program from inside the game?”

  Laria cringed.

  “I’m guessing you didn’t. Probably because you coincidentally visited Wren and forgot what it was you went in there to do.” Shayla didn’t sound angry, more resigned, which was actually worse.

  “Sorry. I’ll log back in and do it now, but you won’t believe—”

  Shayla didn’t let her get any further. “I don’t mind. I get it. You miss her. But we are still trying to pull your ass out of the fire, and by association, also mine. I ran the program, but you’ll need to run the adjusted one in about twelve minutes.”

  Laria felt even worse with Shayla’s understanding. “On it.”

  She wondered if she should press the issue, if she should talk to her about it. Considering how long it had taken her to tell Shayla originally, it was probably better that she come clean about this now, before it bit them in the butt along with the myriad of other things that could go wrong.

  “Wren thinks the game is attached to her, that it won’t let her log out.” There, she’d said it. As crazy as it sounded now she was back in the real world, she’d managed to get the murmured thought her daughter had out into the open.

  Shayla barked out a laugh. “What? The game won’t let her?”

  “Well, more...that Somnia won’t.” Laria winced, knowing it sounded even crazier than it was. Still though, while she was in the game, she couldn’t help feel like it was alive. Perhaps not breathing, but fully aware, learning, and becoming something more than they’d intended. Not just the AIs who ran it, but the actual construct of the world. The ramifications of the possibility hurt her head.

  Of course, it was supposed to feel real, so perhaps it was all within the program’s parameters, but she didn’t think so.

  “I think she might have been in there a little too long. It’s probably really screwing with her head,” Shayla commiserated. “I’d probably be stir crazy by now, unable to log out and leave my room.”

  Laria forced a chuckle. “That’s probably it.”

  But she didn’t agree with Shayla. Her friend hadn’t seen the Isle. She hadn’t seen Murmur in her glory, or the wolf who stayed by her side. Nor had she witnessed Wren in her dream state at home, the way she reached, the way she cried out, and the way she screamed.

  No, Shayla could dismiss the thought as much as she wanted to. But Laria knew better, because while her daughter was reaching and writhing in agony, the room was flooded with a sense of something confining, pulling her back, and not letting her go.

  Hazenthorne hadn’t changed one bit. Well, as long as Murmur discounted the fact that there were three groups sharing the courtyard spawns and waiting for the rare spawn to pop over at the gateway. Little level sixteen and seventeens, casting their spells, firing their arrows, and none of them having a clue just how dark Somnia could get.

  For a fleeting moment Murmur wished she could swap places with them, but it passed quickly. No Telvar, no Snowy...none of that was acceptable, so she’d take her lot and hope her budding plan was the right way to turn.

  While Murmur hadn’t assumed the castle would alter in their absence, considering what they’d experienced with the ruins, it brought her no small relief that Hazenthorne stood before them once again in its gothic majesty. Just an air of spooky hiding the cunning boss within.

  When getting right down to it, Arita was the spookiest thing about Hazenthorne.

  “Maybe we should have tried the other dungeon on Tarishna,” Rashlyn mumbled, her ears flattening as she looked up at the ramparts.

  “I’m not even sure where it is.” Havoc’s voice was just as soft, and while his ears couldn’t flatten, his whole-body stance told her that he wasn’t impressed they were entering this castle again. The way his shoulders hunched ever so slightly, and his fingers twisted together in nothing even close to resembling a spell.

  Glancing over everyone, Murmur noticed that each of them were hesitant in their own way. Even Beastial and Shir-Khan stood off to the side, the player protecting his pet subconsciously. She frowned and glanced down at Snowy, who met her eyes with something akin to a wolf like shrug. He was into anything she was and would protect her no matter what. But he also found the aura around this place unsettling. His eyes held so much more information for her now, so much more life, like he was truly speaking to her.

  “Hey!”

  Murmur whirled, readying a stun in her mind and came face to face, or more aptly, shoulder to face with a human mage. “Yes?”

  He stopped short, his breath coming in gasps as if he’d just run over. Considering it was a good hundred feet to the first group of adventurers, he’d probably sprinted. Another person followed him, this time a dark elf with a complete look of boredom on his face. Murmur couldn’t place the class at first, but it dawned on her he was a druid. She’d not seen a druid in the world yet, and it seemed odd that a dark elf would be one, but his armor and the twisting, bark-like vines that wound their way around his arms were distinctive and intriguing.

  “So. Um.” The mage appeared to be a little flustered once he tried to start speaking to Murmur.

  The dark elf rolled his eyes even as his friend tried to speak. Murmur felt her friends closing rank around her. They were protective of her, always, and warm fuzzies flooded her system, so grateful for each and every one of them.

  “Murmur of Fable, right?” The dark elf’s voice was a hell of a lot deeper than Murmur anticipated and took her by surprise.

  “Yeah. That’s me,” she answered, but only after a couple of seconds pause while her mind processed that voice.

  “I,” he glared at the mage when he received an elbow in the gut, “that is we, were wondering how you go about recruitment?”

  There was a light in both of their eyes, eagerness. The mage seemed to be more of a hero-worship type of thing, but the druid—no, that one knew what would be expected of him. That one yearned for it.

  And then she realized she’d not even extended her sensing net in however long it had been. She was automatically sensing these things, smoothly and without activation. Everything was set in place, like an involuntary life function and her MA simply flowed unbidden now. She pushed away the panic that attempted to seep through to her, into her chock-full compartment of I-will-deal-with-you-later. Instead, she chose to embrace the broadened automatic sensor net.

  Sometimes the people that wanted endgame content the most were the best to deal with, and oftentimes they were the worst. Many people overestimated their ability to play, and didn’t like being told they needed to improve. This one though, it didn’t seem like the dark elf had cocky confidence. There was a quiet sureness about him.

  Beastial moved smoothly up to stand next to Murmur, Shir-Khan on guard at his side. “I’m the recruitment overseer. We only take recruits who are level twenty and up. Unless you’re a crafter, but you’d need to be over level twenty-five in at least one craft then.”

  The dark elf’s brows furrowed deeply and he nodded. “Very well. I’ll be twenty soon.”

  “Excellent.” Beastial grinned, and the expression
put those around him at ease. It was why he made the best person to recruit others. He didn’t intimidate, regardless of whether he was playing a meat shield or a DPS. “What’s your name?”

  “Midas.” The druid grinned, but this time there was a hint of grit to it, and Murmur thought he’d fit in just fine. “This is Six.”

  Beastial raised an eyebrow, and Murmur wondered at how smooth he was with interacting. Something she knew it would behoove her to be better at peopling.

  “Well, then, Six, Midas? I look forward to you hitting twenty and sending me a message. Just remember, when we raid, we take the best we have to get the job done. But there’s more than just raiding in Somnia. There’s a whole world to build.” Beastial grinned and the two potential recruits returned his smile, though Midas’s was more serious.

  “Thank you.” He inclined his head and ushered Six back. As they retreated Murmur noticed their stance relax, and the thoughts coming from them were relief and determination. An odd mix for sure, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t totally sympathize with them.

  “Odd.” Sin muttered and turned to Beastial. “Very odd to see you speaking unlike a Neanderthal.”

  She laughed and ran out of his reach as he made a grab at her.

  “Damn it, Sin! I’ll get you back for that one.”

  Murmur chuckled and turned back to the castle. Somehow in the last ten minutes it seemed to have taken on an even darker facade. Shadows lingered where the light wouldn’t naturally make them shine, and the creepers moved slowly, and yet visibly. She watched them, crawling languidly across the surface, alive, like the rest of the world and everything in it.

  Hazenthorne was waiting for them, and it wasn’t just Arita. It was like the castle realized they were there and knew what they wanted to accomplish, and it was saying, come on, take your best damned shot.

  Murmur frowned at the interior of the castle. The changes were subtle and yet definite. Darker tapestries draped the walls, and not just in color. Once where it had been medieval in decor, it was now like something out of a vampire movie. Given the resident queen though, the facelift seemed more appropriate.

  She glanced around at her friends as they all stood in the huge foyer. It wasn’t like a mansion with a sweeping staircase. Instead, the stone interior was only tempered by carpets and did little to hide the underlying chill in the air.

  Murmur frowned again, taking in the austere changes, the gargoyle’s sharper features, the bat-like wings, and fangs visible in every corner of the room.

  “This is more like it,” Havoc said, his arms crossed as Leeroy hovered behind him. “This is what I envisioned the castle of a dark elf queen to look like. I mean the last one was okay, but this—this version is more...”

  “Creepy?” Devlish offered helpfully.

  Havoc chuckled. “Not quite, but it works.”

  Murmur didn’t understand how they could be so flippant in light of the disturbing vibe that permeated the entire structure. The heaviness to the air, the cloying density that surrounded them, beckoning them to tread closer toward their potential doom.

  Tentatively she reached out with tendrils of thought, probing against the overlaying edge only to find that’s how she was aware of it. Her abilities were fully enabled without her conscious activation, a seamless part of the way her brain functioned within these confines now like it was seeping into the infrastructure that made up the world of Somnia.

  The revelation was a shock. It came all in the space of a few heartbeats while her friends continued to joke in the empty foyer where they continued to be completely unaware of just what awaited them in here.

  There was no doubt in her mind that Arita knew they’d entered the castle proper, and that she’d made sure it was welcoming in a way no other place could be. Lulling them into the perfect dark elf abode, shifting their awareness so that their altered perception didn’t equate danger with the new interior.

  “Guys.” She couldn’t help it, the trepidation rose in her, threatening to choke her. “Stop. Think for a moment. This isn’t the way it should be. Why are you all relaxed and not on guard?”

  Sinister blinked, her eyes meeting Murmur’s with surprise. “It’s just the entrance, Mur.” But even then the blood mage frowned, like there was something she was missing, and instead of examine the surrounding area, Murmur examined her friends and kicked herself.

  Activating her projected mental shield, she covered her friends instantly, and the small tug at the back of her mind was all that was left of the headache that would have plagued her before the incident in the ruins. She’d gained more strength than she realized by keeping the shielding up almost constantly. Slotting it away amongst her ever-growing list of things to go over at a later date, Murmur watched as the effect of the new Hazenthorne bore its full brunt onto her friends.

  Their expressions changed almost as one. From their relaxed countenances, frowns emerged, along with the realization that the castle was definitively altered. The sudden influx of understanding left their jaws slack, and eyes wide.

  “Shit, Mur,” Devlish breathed. “That’s just fucking unsettling. What did you do?”

  She swallowed the urge to snap. “I projected a shield over you so the influence wouldn’t hit your minds. When you’re not on alert, you’re more likely to die. So, let’s just not let her get her way and go turn the tables on them.”

  Veranol frowned. “So you could sense this all along and didn’t understand why we weren’t being more cautious, I take it?”

  She nodded as he glanced around, a thoughtful purse to his lips.

  “And are there other times you’ve had to protect us without our knowing?” Veranol pushed the point.

  Murmur wracked her brains. She was fairly sure she hadn’t done that, had thought most of the time it had been glaringly obvious that she’d protected them, and yet, perhaps it wasn’t. “Hmm. Back near Cognitia when I was fairly sure they were up to something, and then again when we were traveling through the jungle to reach the ruins, and Riasli was projecting all manner of things.”

  His face went through several different expressions at once, as did the others. But it was Havoc who spoke up next. “I remember you using it before, but not the specifics. What does this shield thing do?”

  “It basically puts an extra layer of protection over your minds so it’s far more difficult for anything else out there to intrude on or influence your thoughts.” She hesitated while telling them, wondering if perhaps she’d been doing something wrong all along. Maybe there were some consequences she’d not thought of. All she’d wanted to do was protect them.

  “Shit, Mur. Why didn’t you ever mention it?” Veranol rubbed at his nose and wouldn’t meet her gaze. He seemed ashamed in some way.

  “Because it was just something I did, and I’m able to do it very easily now?” She still wasn’t precisely sure just what this was about, but she was majorly relieved he didn’t seem to be angry. There were so many grey areas in this mind thing. Things she could do but was never certain she should do. Influences she could project which would make things a hell of a lot easier but bordered so hard on exerting control over others that she hadn’t been able to bring herself to execute them deliberately.

  “Damn it. I’m sure there’s something I can take in my enchanter line that will help with that sort of influence. Help me protect my own mind just a bit more, so it doesn’t always fall to you.” Sinister sounded irritated, even while she reached out and gave Murmur’s hand a squeeze, so the enchanter knew it wasn’t at her, but more at Sin’s lack of awareness about the possibilities. “I just didn’t realize it was such a problem. Sorry, Mur.”

  Murmur laughed, relief flooding her like a lifeline. “It’s not. I’m an enchanter, the mind is kind of my thing. I mean it difficult at first but I’ve grown in MA levels, and then limbo happened so it’s not really a big deal now.” She realized she wasn’
t making much sense, so she paused, took a breath and tried to center herself again. Worrying never got her anywhere, she should really just be upfront about it.

  “It used to cost me a lot of MA. Now it takes me like eighty-eight MA to shield all of you and I’m not even getting my reactionary headaches much anymore. More like a dull throb. Don’t worry about it.” She watched her friends’ reactions, the inner core of her mind still cautious.

  “Thanks, Mur.” Beastial smiled, and the rest of them echoed the sentiment. “But I think we have another point to prove to Somnia and Arita. We’re not about to let them pull this shit.”

  Determination spread through them, like a buff in itself. Snowy nipped at her hand, and finally Murmur felt like she might get a handle on her own mind.

  If you don’t, you can always take over theirs.

  The thought hit her like a ton of bricks, smashing through the calm she’d only just managed to gain. That wasn’t a thought from outside, from her parents. It wasn’t from a real voice she knew, not even that subtle inner voice that constantly nagged at her. It sounded vaguely like Riasli’s taunting, but not quite the same. And whatever it was had blasted completely past her shields.

  Somnia Online

  Mikrum Isle

  Day Sixteen

  Telvar stood next to Hiro, glancing over at the workers while they made further progress on the small castle. He frowned, but not at the work, more at situation he was trying to monitor.

  Murmur and her Fable crew had entered Hazenthorne but a short while ago. It was Thra’s domain, just like the damned ruins. He didn’t like it in the least that it appeared her control had been wrested from her even once. But now? Now they were walking into more potential danger.