Archemi Online Chronicles Boxset

by James Osiris Baldwin

  “You can’t unseal Matir with just the Spear,” I blurted. “You need the Triad.”

  The lich vizier raised a hand. My cuffs heated, and then a jolt of electric pain flashed through the muscles of my arms, back and chest. "You will address His Divinity with proper respect, breather, or lose your tongue."

  “Stand down, Utuapsu. The Tuun were the first to break free of the Deceiver’s enslavement, and they have never forgotten it.” Ashur waved him back with a clawed hand. "They know not of respect nor nobility, but they do know much of the past. And this man is the Spear-Bearer, as was recorded in our lore.”

  “Not if the woman was able to take it from him,” the lich responded. “The histories are clear that the Spear chooses the wielder, and the Spear-Bearer is always able to call the weapon to their hand from any distance. So is it written.”

  I frowned, then concentrated. When I tried, I could sense the weapon almost the same way I could Karalti, like a mental presence that tickled my brain when I thought about it. I focused on summoning it the same way I had on the battlefield. There was a moment of resistance, and then a surge of power as the familiar haft appeared in my hands, behind my back.

  I didn't see Ashur or his slaves get to their feet. One moment, they were seated - the next, they were standing, all twelve men and women clustered around their Master with burning red eyes and exposed metal fangs. I couldn't do anything with the weapon - my hands were still bound behind my back - but there it was. Even Violetta looked shocked.

  "So as I was saying." I looked up to just under Ashur's jaw. "You can't unseal the Dragon Gates with just the Spear. You need three components."

  "Components." He repeated the word after me. "And what are these ‘components’?"

  "The Spear-Bearer, the Spear of Nine Spears, and the Keystone that you already possess," I lied. “The three parts of the Triad.”

  Ashur turned to his vizier. The lich hung in the air, watching me impassively.

  “There is mention of a Triad in the Ea Enggura,” they admitted after a time. “The Hymn of the Salašu, ‘The Three who Bind and Unbind the Gate.”

  “You can’t find the Gate without the Triad,” I replied. “The Stone has to go in the Spear, and when they’re combined, they tell me where the gate is. You see that Ruby in the blade? It told me where to find the Dragon Gate of Khors.”

  The lich made a dry crackling sound. “It is true that the stone has a powerful resonance similar to the one that was gifted to us, Your Divinity.”

  The crowd of slaves dispersed, slinking back to the ground. Ashur's face drew into a craggy expression of curiosity.

  “I believe all of it, except for one thing. You already know where the Dragon Gate of the Black God resides,” Ashur said. His voice was warm, calm... trustworthy. I could almost taste the way it sounded, warm and soft and cozy. Safe. “You bear his mark and have been gifted with his divine powers, yes?”

  “Yeah.” I rarely trusted anyone on first meeting, but I found myself feeling like I could tell Ashur everything and be perfectly okay... and that was a problem. “Stop it.”

  "Stop what, Spear-Bearer? I ask only that you to tell me where the Dragon Gate is located." Ashur purred. His voice wrapped around me like a fuzzy blanket, urging me to trust him. To answer truthfully.

  I forced my face to relax, and dug my nails in against the haft of the spear as hard as I could. I thought of Suri and Karalti and Rin, and then, Lord Bolza’s face as he looked down at us on the battlefield. They march with the other thralls.

  "It's okay to tell you, isn’t it?” I asked. “I can feel it."

  “It is the right thing to do, Spear-Bearer. In fact, all of this terrible violence could have been averted if only I had met you earlier.” The vampire leaned back on his divan, the power of his gaze washing over me like the heat from an open oven "I am the last hope of my people, Dragozin Hector. For thousands of years, I lived with my family in a great palace, surrounded by my wives, my treasured concubines, the warriors who were closer to me than brothers. The dragons almost ruined my country with their infernal magic, but we made the best of our circumstances. Napath’s rivers no longer teem with fish, or nurse the orchards of pomegranates and dates that I remember from my living youth, but we have art and peace and beauty there still. I tired of conquest many centuries ago, and have spent many millennia in deep sleep. These days, I prefer to pass my time in study of the stars and in painting, but what can be done when duty summons one to war?”

  I stared at his mouth, struggling to buy for time. If I met his eyes, I would lose my ability to resist and blab the truth. “You answer the call.”

  "Precisely." Ashur sighed, a sound that passed over my skin like an embrace. "The Dragon Gate has surged in its activity these last twelve months. It drains our land like a hundred thousand Stardrinkers, Hector, and it is killing us. My wife crumbled into dust, along with thousands of others. Every day, we lose people like Utuapsu here, who hold lore and languages that are thousands of years old. The Vlachians call me a vampire - but truly, the vampire is the god who enslaved you. The one whose symbol is etched upon your skin."

  The Mark of Matir burned with a steady cold fire on the back of my right hand. Ashur was annoying me now, and that was good. It helped me focus. "Matir didn't enslave me. We made a bargain. I accepted his help in return for helping him, and he pays me back every chance he gets."

  “That simply makes him a clever master.” Ashur reached out and stroked the hair of one of his slaves, petting the woman like a dog. She curled up closer to his knee. “A miserable, unvalued slave is a rebellious slave. I spoil my servants endlessly in gratitude for their devotion and service. Matir is old enough and wise enough to do the same. You do not know how it was, but the dragons kept humans and other creatures the way that we keep dogs."

  No matter how nice his mind tricks felt, that little speech was like a shock of cold water to the face. I swallowed back my rising bile and nodded. "I... wish I could tell you the location of the Dragon Gate, Your Divinity, but I can't. Not until the Star of Endless Night is set in the Spear. It will lead me to the Gate then, as the Ruby did to the Gate of Khors."

  "Truly?"

  "Yes, Your Divinity."

  I marshalled every ounce of willpower to keep my eyes down, my conviction in place. As I so often did when I was under duress, I thought of Karalti's mother... her will and her resolve, and her belief in me to care for her daughter.

  "I am merely a simple man of war, Utuapsu," Ashur drawled. “Do you believe him?”

  “A young Breather such as this one, even the Spear-Bearer, could not resist your diplomacy, Your Divinity,” the lich rasped.

  Ashur hmm'd. “Bring me the Sarrum Adar. We will add the gemstone to the weapon and reveal the location of this Gate.”

  "No."

  Violetta, who had been silent for all of this, came forward. She looked… normal. Her voice had lost its jarring alien quality. Lips were pink and flush with life, and her eyes were blue instead of black. They glinted with malice as she looked down at me. "He is attempting to deceive us, Your Divinity.”

  "He is, is he?" The vampire regarded me with interest as my blood ran cold. "Now that you mention it, he smells like a man unnerved. Yet I would know if he was lying… no ordinary man can resist the presence of a Nasaku.”

  “Neither Hector or I are ordinary humans. We are Starborn,” Violetta said sweetly. “We are the immortal seeds of fate, capable of manipulating reality and the feelings of men. As you have been impressing your will on him, he has been impressing his will on you. If you want him to speak the truth, you should turn him into your damu and ask again.”

  "Turn me?" I blurted. "What do you mean 'turn me'? What the fuck is a ‘damu’"

  “It means ‘Child’ in your tongue. She is asking me to make you a Nasaku, my blood-bound prodigy.” Ashur rumbled. “That may be too high an honor for an enemy.”

  I glared at Violetta. “You can’t do this.”

  “Who’s g
oing to stop me? The mods?” She regarded me with a sweet, blank expression. “Any idiot knows that NPCs are programmed to always try and give your pathetic roleplaying serious consideration. The game tries to advance quests in favor of the 'hero'. But you're not the only hero here today.”

  “The game won’t let it happen.”

  “Player protection features were disabled when the game reset.” Violetta smiled faintly. “Suffer.”

  “The woman is the servant of an Architect,” Utuapsu whispered. “Given the circumstances, the dire need of our people, I would advise that we defer to her wisdom.”

  Ashur stirred up from his recline and stood. "The Architect chose his servant wisely. Very well."

  Violetta curtsied.

  "Wait. You can't 'turn' me." I wracked my brains for what to do. "Matir hates the undead. He'll remove the Mark."

  "But you will remain the Spear-Bearer." The vampire reached out for me with clawed hands.

  I threw myself away from him, skidding down the steps leading to the dais and onto the floor. There, I tried to flip up to my feet - but as I did, the ankle cuffs locked tight, and I ended up smashing my face against the hard floor instead. My HP was already in the pits, throbbing red as Ashur lifted me up by the neck with one hand. As my breath cut, I saw an oxygen meter appear in my overlay.

  Violetta watched me struggle with a strange expression: lips parted, eyes wide with mingled fear and fascination, one hand resting lightly around her own neck.

  "Fuck off!" I opened my inventory, searching for some way out of this. Poison, some other way to die before he could bite me. There was nothing - my gear was gone. I snarled, and prepared to use Shadow Garrote - but instead of biting me, Ashur's nails lengthened and plunged into my neck like hypodermic needles. My eyes widened as a numbing wave of cold passed through my body.

  [You are Paralyzed!]

  [You are Hemorrhaging!]

  "Do not fear. Your old master may reject you after the embrace, but I will take good care of you." The vampire's bracelets chimed as he painlessly embedded his fingers deeper into my neck. Frothing at the mouth, I watched the veins of his arm swell in size, writhing like worms under his skin as he drew my blood into them. "You were an honorable and interesting opponent, Dragozin Hector. I shall be honored to add you to my household. Once this is over and done with, you will know comfort with me for the rest of eternity."

  No way. There is no way this was happening. I fought with everything I had, but every kick, every heartbeat only weakened me further. There's no fucking way they'd let a player be turned into a vampire. I’d die normally and respawn back at my last checkpoint: the jail cell.

  Right?

  The Spear fell from my nerveless hands as a warm, velvety, dizzying darkness crawled in from the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was Violetta, watching me with haunted, terrified, excited eyes.

  Chapter 50

  When I came to, I was sitting in the kitchen of my grandparent's condo.

  The sun streamed in through the windows, barred light and shadow falling across the linoleum. My grandmother was moving around the kitchen; my grandfather was singing to himself somewhere back in the house. Their cats drowsed on the tall cat tree in the living room, while my school backpack lay next to my bar stool next to me on the floor. Everything seemed to stand out in supernaturally sharp relief: the threads on the placemat in front of me, the mingled smells of steaming rice and cooking meat. There were already banchan laid out on the counter, melamine bowls brimming with vegetables and pickled side-dishes. They smelled sweet and spicy and delicious.

  "You're early today, Hector." Grandma bustled over and set down a bowl of my favorite kim-chi, bright green garlic shoots covered in red pepper paste and oil. She laid a set of serving chopsticks and a spoon down on the tray beside it. "I haven't even finished cooking yet."

  "Yeah. I'm sorry." I picked some vegetables out of the serving bowl and dropped them into mine. "I just didn't know where else to go."

  "You know you're always welcome to visit." She turned her head and smiled. I couldn't see her face properly; the light seemed to blur out her features. "But you can't stay here today. You need to go back to your family."

  I paused with a bite of food halfway to my mouth.

  "You have a long time to live. Perhaps longer than any human being ever has." Grandma set her spatula down on the edge of the sizzling pan, resting her hands on the counter. "One day, you'll see us again... but for now, you must go back."

  "Back?" A cloud passed over the sun outside, and the shadows of the blinds turned chilly as the temperature around me dropped. 'Back'. That wasn't a good word. "But I want to stay here."

  "I know." She left the spatula in the pan - something she would never do - and came around the counter to lay her hand on my shoulder. Even this close, I could tell she was smiling, but I couldn't see her face. "Go back out there, and live. We love you... we'll be here rooting for you, okay?"

  The mouth-watering smells of the kitchen faded, replaced by nothingness. Cold, dark nothingness… not even a memory.

  I opened my eyes and almost gasped in a lungful of sand.

  Holy fuck. I was buried alive? There was a brief moment of panic, until I realized that I didn’t have to breathe – yet, anyway. The urge was there, but it was building very slowly. My chest and muscles were dense and cold as wet clay. What had happened to me? Where the hell was I?

  And for that matter, who the hell was I?

  Clenching my teeth, I focused on getting my hands to move. One finger twitched, then two… and after some effort, I was able to lift my arm and shift around. The sand only covered me up to my face – there was a gap of empty space above, between me and the arched lid of my prison. I leaned up to finally take a breath of dusty air. Ring-shaped notifications were blinking in the corner of my eye. When I thought about them, holographic windows jumped up. That spurred my memory a little. One of the options I had was 'Character Log', so I went and had a look at that to see if I could figure out who I was and what had happened.

  [You have died!]

  [You have contracted Haemostigma!]

  [You are immune to corruption.]

  [Rin Lu has died!]

  [You are immune to Corruption.]

  [You are immune to Corruption.]

  [You are immune to Corruption.]

  [Rin Lu has died!]

  [New Character Template applied: Nasaku Halfblood]

  …

  “All I wanted to know is if I’m immune to Corruption. Am I or aren’t I?” I choked a small, nervous laugh at my shitty joke. Who the hell was ‘Rin Lu’? And why were they apparently incapable of staying alive for longer than five minutes?

  I searched the name and found her listed in my Friend's List. Whoever I was, I was apparently pretty unpopular, because my mysterious and mortally-challenged friend was the only one there. I tried selecting the option to P.M her.

  [You are incarcerated. Private messages are currently disabled.]

  [We have detected that you may be experiencing some issues with your character data. Would you like to check for problems?]

  Archemi. That felt familiar. I jumped a little as the message played, but then found myself nodding. "Uhh... sure."

  [Okay! Hold on just a second while I run the troubleshooter.]

  Troubleshooter? I lay back in my giant kitty litter box and waited as a diagnostic bar filled. It glowed, but the glow didn't illuminate the darkness.

  [I'm sorry, Hector, but it seems I can't find the character information I was looking for. Please save your progress, exit the game, and contact our Help and Support line.]

  [We have detected that you may be experiencing difficulties beyond a normal gaming experience. P.Ms have been temporarily re-enabled.]

  “Okay… I have a name and a connection. Awesome. Let’s try this again.” I dismissed the notification and tried Rin a second time.

  "OH MY GOD! HECTOR! THANK GOODNESS!" No sooner had I connected than a musical voice blar
ed into my ears. "You're alive? Are you okay? Where are you?"

  "Woah, that’s loud." I groaned and rubbed my face. The skin was cold, a little rubbery. "Yeah, I'm alive and okay - I think. I don't know where I am. I... uhh... actually don't remember anything, and I'm hoping I don't owe you money or anything because I might need some help."

  “Anything? About the Prezyemi Line, or the quest or…?”

  “Everything. I just figured out that my name is ‘Hector’.”

  "Terminal amnesia?" She gasped. "Oh no. That's not good."

  "I'm okay," I repeated stubbornly. "I just need some help."

  "Umm, ummm... Let me go find Karalti! She's frantic over you right now and said she walled her mind off from yours because whatever was happening was making her go insane, but now you're awake she can probably find you and teleport to you? Oh, wait, know… you have to have a logged location marker for her to do that. UMMM…"

  I had no idea who Karalti was, but nodded - then immediately regretted it when I banged my nose on the inside of my concrete porta-potty. "This uh... Karalti should hold onto her britches instead of jumping in. I'm in a pretty small box right now, and it's definitely not big enough for two people. Besides, I’m not entirely sure who you’re talking about, or even if you’re really my friend. No offense."

  There was a pause. "You... really don't remember anything? Not even Karalti? What about Suri?"

  The name caused a faint dull throb somewhere inside me, like someone poking a nearly-healed psychic bruise. "It rings a bell, but I couldn't put a face to the name, sorry."

  "OMG. This is terrible." Rin somehow managed to say the acronym. "Okay- whatever happens, keep updating me and Karalti on your situation."

  "Sure. No hurry." There was a boom and a bang not too far from where I lay. "Okay. Maybe little hurry."

  "You said you're in a box? Like a coffin box or a cell box?"

  "I'm thinking coffin." There were people walking toward this end of the room. "Room outside sounds big and echoey. By the way, are you okay? You died like... five times in half an hour."