Viridian Gate Online

by J D Astra

  “It was just a dream, Abby.”

  I returned to my room with my lit candle and opened my character sheet. 5:30 AM. I needed to choose my class in a few hours, and I felt like I wasn’t closer to a choice. Stonewall would be the only class for solo, but if I ended up in a clan, I’d want to be really useful. Frostlock was pretty good crowd control, and Hydromancer was alright. Firebrand was the only one that stuck out as a high-powered DPS, someone who wouldn’t get left behind on the big clan dungeon raid. A contributor.

  I disabled my morning alarm to prevent it from wrecking my train of thought and panned to the forums again. There had to be information on the four different trees that could help me.

  Soft orange light from the rising sun broke through my shuttered window as I scoured the wiki for info on the Sorceress classes. There was less than I was hoping. Each tree had been outlined with the level-one abilities. Most people seemed to still be on the same class choice step as me.

  Good. I wasn’t behind yet. But the longer I dallied the more of a risk that became.

  The clock hit 6:30 AM, and I hopped out of bed and headed to the wardrobe where my fresh-pressed gear hung neatly. It was nice to know that even when my gear was hanging in the wardrobe like that, it was still part of my inventory. It couldn’t be stolen, except by a master thief perhaps. But most players were too low level to be doing anything like that, and most NPCs were programmed not to go around thieving from Travelers.

  It was a comfort knowing we put a lot of care into ensuring the PvP was fairly safe. Thieves could steal a lot of things off my person, but not the gear I had equipped. Being in the wardrobe was an extension of being equipped, so it was still out of reach there.

  I washed the sweat off my face and neck before locking eyes with my avatar in the mirror. This was me; now and forever. There was no going back, and no backing down. I had the scroll and knew there was a dungeon on the other end of it. I had to know what was down there. I had to stop Osmark.

  I donned my clothes and snuffed the candle before leaving the room. The hall outside was bustling with maids. They gave me a smile and a nod as they passed me by, moving from room to room as they prepared for this evening’s guests. I made my way down the stairs and was surprised to see two others in the tavern, quiet as mice, chomping away at their meals.

  The dream clung at the edges of my mind as I took the seat across from Otto at his table. He gave me a peculiar look, his hands folded in front of him on the table. I took a sip from the cup of water in front of me.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked, his tone accusatory.

  I raised a brow. “No. I had nightmares.”

  His posture changed. He seemed to be expecting me to say yes, to say that everything was fine and I didn’t have a hangover. He didn’t expect my honesty. He’d need to get used to that because honesty and transparency were two of my highly held values.

  “I’m sorry.” He looked down, his fingernails scratching into a bit of dried food on the tabletop. “What did you dream?”

  The urge to snap at him, to ask him what it mattered, surfaced, and I stuffed it back down. He was my companion, my only friend right now. I needed him.

  I needed him. I wanted his friendship. Me. Solitary, lone wolf Abby. I needed an AI.

  “My mother.” I took another drink, cooling the lump in my throat.

  He frowned. “Thoughts of your mother trouble you?”

  I shook my head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  The barmaid brought two hot plates of fresh bread, eggs, cheese, and apple slices. It smelled divine, but Otto waited. He didn’t touch his food, didn’t even look at it. His gaze was locked on me.

  “I’m a Traveler. You know I came here from far away?”

  He nodded.

  “My mother did not come with me. Where we were... it was doomed. She’ll die soon.” I forked the egg up onto the fresh bread and broke the yolk, sending cascades of yellow, fatty deliciousness down the edges, and bit in.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” Otto bowed his head, his hands folded in his lap.

  The lump in my throat grew and my nose tingled with the threat of tears.

  “She chose it.” I shrugged and talked through the mouthful of fluffy baguette. “My father is already gone. She didn’t want to live here without him, would’ve rather died than be here with a daughter who didn’t go to see her father on his deathbed.” I stuffed another huge bite of egg-bread in my mouth and chewed once before swallowing, trying to force down the ache in my chest.

  “Why not?” He still hadn’t touched his food.

  I motioned to his plate. “It’ll get cold.”

  He nodded solemnly, then ate.

  When my plate was nearly empty, I pushed it aside. “I had a friend, he might travel here too. He’ll be a good ally for us if he does.”

  “A friend?” Otto grunted as he stuffed the last bit of bread in his mouth.

  “His name is Jack. I’ve known him a long time and told him about how to travel here. If he does, he can help us with this business with Osmark.”

  The barmaid took our plates, and I dropped some silver in her palm. Still not quite enough silver to make her happy.

  “You don’t think we can handle this?” Otto asked, his voice defensive.

  I seesawed my head. “Maybe. But I’d rather not get you killed.”

  His eyes widened, and I grinned. He smiled back, and we were quiet again as we watched the other two in the tavern finish their meals and depart.

  “You think this Jack will want to help you?” Otto asked.

  “Us,” I retorted.

  Otto’s face hardly changed, but I could tell he was happy. His cheeks rounded, and the creases in his forehead smoothed.

  I thought on his question. I didn’t know. Jack had been my friend, almost my boyfriend. But we were cool. We’d raided together and had great times in the old Crimson Alliance, the guild a few of us started and took from game to game. He’d never done anything unsavory and was always really kind. I trusted him.

  “I hope so.”

  Otto nodded again as he drank the last of his water.

  “I’m going to go Firebrand,” I blurted.

  Otto pursed his lips. “Is that what’s best for you?”

  I chewed my lip. No, probably not. Depending. If I was alone, no. Definitely not. But if I was in a clan or if Otto survived or if Jack joined... yes. Firebrand was so cool, too! Seriously, fireballs from my hands. Too cool.

  “You don’t know.” He read me.

  I shook my head.

  He sighed. “You need to talk to Naitee soon.”

  I changed my shake to a slow bob.

  “Well, I’ll follow you while the coin’s good, crazy lady.” He gave me a wry smile, and I smirked.

  I stood and gave a long stretch up, back, and then down to my toes. It felt great. My muscles were still cramped from the nightmare and perhaps a bit from the mead. Otto made a similar motion and yawned a bit, then headed for the door. Apparently he hadn’t slept great either.

  The streets around the Boar’s Head were quiet, filthy, and cool. The morning sun was just breaching the hills outside of town, leaving little etchings of frost on the windows and in the dirt.

  “Otto, why is the Boar’s Head so quiet in such a rowdy area?” I asked as we snaked our way to the main road.

  “It’s their reputation. If you want privacy, it’s where you go. Prices are a little steeper than most.” He shrugged.

  I felt there was more to it than that, but decided not to get into it. The population on the streets grew the deeper we moved into the business section, and soon, we were surrounded by people taking on their daily duties. Fortunately, Otto had the power to make others flow around him, so I trailed in his wake.

  Butterflies battered against my insides as I saw the four-flagged spire of Naitee’s shop. I had to choose. I would have to pick my eternal fate in just a few minutes. Was I going to make the right c
hoice?

  Probably not. But any choice would be better than inaction. I needed to keep moving forward, and no matter what class kit I picked, I wouldn’t stop until Osmark’s plan was revealed, thwarted, and he was ousted. He deserved nothing less than to be banished for his backhanded treachery: selling power and domination over his customers, over the only humans left on Earth, to the scummiest people who ever walked it. Despicable.

  “Abby.” Otto grabbed my shoulder, and I looked up to see Naitee’s shop feet from me. I needed to stop zoning out.

  “You all right?” His hand fell away and I nodded.

  “Thinking about my class.” I sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the handle. The door opened with ease, and for once, I wasn’t slapped in the face with unbearable heat.

  Naitee sat at the center of the room, her legs crossed and hands held together in prayer. No, not quite. There was a gap between her palms. Little flames licked up her fingers and over her knuckles, dancing with one another, and with Naitee’s energy. I could see her energy, or at least, I thought I could. Heat waves radiated off her white-blond hair and crimson robes in circles, pushing out toward the walls before disappearing into figments of my imagination.

  The door closed behind me, and I turned to see Otto had, once again, left me alone with her. Coward...

  “Come here.” My mentor’s voice was old, weathered, and wise. In this moment of meditation, I felt she knew more than one person should ever know.

  I took three steps closer and stopped a few feet short of her radiant energy field. Every inch closer brought more and more heat. The soft furs she sat on glowed red-hot, the warmth from Naitee’s body seeping through to the animal hide.

  “Sit down,” she ordered. I’d come this far following her directions, so I wasn’t going to let a bit of bossiness get in the way of me finishing this quest and getting my class. I did as she commanded, kneeling before her.

  Her eyes cracked open, their piercing blue a stark contrast to the bright red of her gown.

  “You’re undecided,” she remarked.

  I took a deep breath. “No. I’ve chosen.”

  Naitee chuckled in a tone that said, “I’ve been around the block enough times to know when a little babe doesn’t know their way.”

  “Firebrand,” I said, cutting her laughter short, and her eyes widened.

  Her face drooped from amused to concerned. “Firebrand is not for the reckless. It is not for the weak. It is not for little girls.”

  “I’m none of those things, so Firebrand is for me.”

  Naitee raised a brow. “You drank a strange vialed liquid from a strange woman just moments after meeting her because some Risi told you the strange woman was a Sorceress.”

  “I weighed the risks in my mind and calculated the gains. I considered the distance to the next town where I could find a trainer, took my nonexistent coin into account, and then decided, very carefully, to drink the liquid.”

  Naitee’s white brow rose farther toward her hairline, and the flames in her palms grew more wild, erratic. “You can’t even mine your own ore. You got your face broken by an Imperial goon and had to be rescued from the fight by a huntress.”

  The last mention of Sandra raised hairs on my neck and heat in my stomach. Never mind how she found out—Otto probably snitched somehow—I had to defend myself. “I didn’t have any spells, just my damn staff, and I did a pretty good job with what I had against swords and armor.”

  “You lack the experience teamwork brings. It is difficult for you to get along with people, which is why your only friend right now is a rebellious Risi outcast.”

  “At least I have a friend.” I clenched my teeth in frustration. Was she going to tell me no? This was my damn choice, not hers!

  I wasn’t weak or reckless. I had tried everything I could to talk us out of that fight. I calculated the future risks on multiple facets of many of my decisions. I took my time in decision-making. I was practiced in making good decisions faster! How could this woman call me a little girl? She didn’t know anything about me.

  Naitee’s lips cracked into a smile. “Maybe. Are you sure he isn’t following you for the gear and the coin?”

  “Yes.” My insides felt much softer on this matter than the firm words that escaped my lips with confidence.

  “Good, then I think maybe”—she stood and strode to the back of the shop, then grabbed a sheaf of parchment—“maybe you can become the most powerful Sorceress in Eldgard.”

  Firebrand

  “EXCUSE ME?” IT WAS more of a demand than a question.

  “You heard me, child,” Naitee scolded as she scribbled furiously on the parchment on the counter. “If you fail this quest in any way, the Firebrand path will be forever out of your reach. If you prove unworthy, the essence of the elemental power will not flow through you.”

  I opened my quest log again. The pending quest sat at the forefront, and the “Yes” and “No” buttons next to the green “Accept?” text were pulsing on and off, daring me to choose.

  <<<>>>

  Quest Update: The Path of a Sorceress

  Naitee needs you to collect one more ingredient, a golden egg from the Basalt Hollows, using only Firebrand abilities. Dying, failing to return with the golden egg, or attacking any way other than with Firebrand abilities or your melee weapon will lock the Firebrand Sorceress kit forever.

  Quest Class: Rare, Class-Based

  Quest Difficulty: Infernal

  Success: Return to Naitee with a golden egg from the Basalt Hollows using only Firebrand magic and your melee weapon to complete the quest.

  Failure: Die at any point during the golden egg retrieval, use any items or magic for combat outside of the Firebrand skills and your melee weapon, or fail to retrieve the golden egg and bring it to Naitee.

  If you fail, you will never be able to attempt the Firebrand class kit quest again.

  Reward: Class Change: Sorceress, Firebrand; Unique, Scalable Item; 15,000 XP.

  <<<>>>

  I took a deep breath and wished Otto was in the room. He was a good sounding board for when my thoughts were disheveled. But this was my choice. If I failed at Firebrand, there were always the other three I could try for... There was only one way I saw myself failing, though. Dying. If I died, Otto likely would too. Then I’d go with the original plan: Stonewall and solo.

  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  I accepted the quest, and Naitee bustled about behind the glass cases. When she turned back, she held a black wooden box in one hand, and in the other, that same lemon-broccoli potion. I grimaced at the sight of the nasty thing, and she rolled her eyes, then slapped it into my outstretched palm. I downed it in a single gulp, trying my best not to let any of the juice touch my tongue.

  I shivered, my arms spasming as I plopped the empty vial on the counter. The countdown timer appeared in the corner of my heads-up display, the HUD, this time with twelve hours rather than five. It worried me that I’d have access to the Frostlock, Hydromancer, and Stonewall abilities. Casting those spells had become all too natural in the few hours I’d had access to them the day before. It felt as if the game, this quest, was setting me up to fail. I’d have to take care with every thought, using only the Firebrand abilities.

  With that out of the way, it was time for whatever was in the box. Naitee motioned for me to remove to the top and it came away easily. Inside, on a bed of black cloth, sat a red-corked vial of glowing golden liquid. Next to it was a scroll of the same size as the bottle.

  “The potion will unlock the Firebrand tree to you further, and the scroll will place temporary points into some of the abilities. You will not be able to add any of your ability points to the tree until Fire accepts you.”

  I pulled the scroll and vial from their bed. The glass of the potion radiated heat and thrummed like a heart. The beat it pulsed felt similar to how Naitee’s energy looked when she meditated.

  I was struck dumb. How had I not noticed? “Are you a Firebrand?”

/>   Naitee grinned. “Yes, many long years now.”

  That would explain the unbearably hot house, the whole turning into living fire when I walked in reeking like death, and the flames that danced in her palms this morning. I felt so stupid for not adding it up.

  I lifted the bottle to my chin, and Naitee and I chimed together, “Bottoms up.”

  The gold liquid oozed into my mouth and coated my tongue. It was hotter than the glass let on. The molasses lava trickled to the back of my throat, and I swallowed hard, using my saliva to move the rest of it along.

  The fire intensified as it passed down my esophagus, and I dropped to my knees, holding tight to the glass case in front of me. My eyes squeezed shut to block out the pain, but golden swirls of flame looped behind my lids, reminding me of the hot ache in my chest. My pulse raged and gut roiled. I wasn’t sure if I was still breathing, still crouched in Naitee’s shop, or even in V.G.O. The pain took me away to a dark place, somewhere far away from life and light.

  I lost track of my body, sound, and time.

  Then, my eyes were open. Otto and Naitee were looking down at me, Otto with a very unhappy crease in his forehead. Naitee seemed perfectly calm. My ears popped—

  “... n’t tell me you were going to make her drink it now!” Otto growled.

  I sat up. The room was destroyed. All of the glass cases lay in piles against the baseboards, the rugs were ash, and the walls blackened. It smelled one part campfire, the other burnt hair.

  “What happened?” I looked to Naitee.

  “I forgot how”—she cleared her throat—“devastating the effects of magical activation can be.”

  The tiny scroll had incinerated in my hand, but I could feel the knowledge of the spells at the back of my mind. I opened my character sheet, panning to my class tree. Oh mother of fire, it worked. I had unlocked the kit and gained access to five new spells.

  <<<>>>

  <<<>>>

  SKILL: Flame of Holding

  Conjure fiery bonds to detain your enemy. The target is incapable of moving, speaking, or casting spells as long as Flame of Holding persists. You can cancel Flame of Holding at any time. As long as Flame of Holding is in use, your Spirit regeneration is reduced by 40%.