“Good.” Reuben folds his hands on the table in front of him.
Aidan didn't protest when the tall, robed woman who met us promised to help him, and we told him she was likely his trainer. Aidan stumbled away after her, and I called after him to meet me in the tavern. The words sounded strange; like something I’d say to him in reality: “Hey, Aidan, fancy a drink later? Meet me at The Crown.”
If only.
“Damon came with us too, but changed his mind. What happened?”
Reuben looks up. “Who’s Damon?”
“The other initiate. The one I was with yesterday.”
“I don’t know anybody of that name.”
I stare at his unblinking expression. Reuben is telling the truth. “You do.”
“You are a strange one, Eleanor. I know the name of every person who resides here. There is nobody named Damon. Now, you must practice, mage. Once you’ve mastered your pyromancer abilities, your spells will be more reliable. If you remain focused, you will become a powerful mage and able to learn a new magic school.” He purses his lips. “But I’m concerned you might not achieve this.”
“Why? What did I do?”
“You seem lacking in initiative. You rarely question me, but merely accept what I’m saying and what I ask you to do.”
“But I need to do what you tell me because you're a ques—" Quest giver. "An Elder."
He smiles. "I would like you to practice your abilities, but also think for yourself more.”
I wait for another quest informing me when, where, and how to practice the abilities.
None.
"That is all," he replies and closes the book.
"Where do I go to practice?" I ask.
His mouth tips into an amused smile. “Every day is a challenge, is it not? Practice your role until you feel you have moved upwards, and then return to me. I cannot give you anything more difficult until you’re more experienced.”
I catch his meaning: I need to level up. “I hope I can move on quickly.”
"Trust in yourself, Eleanor.”
I open my mouth to respond but Reuben has lost interest, frowning as he flicks through the pages of a new book.
Outside, I look to the blue skies and the afternoon sun beats down onto my face. The anxiety over the day's events grip and there's a lot more day to get through yet.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I sit across from Aidan with a stone jug of mead between us. There aren't any non-alcoholic options, save water, and after one sip of the potent drink I decided I should've stuck with that water.
I told Aidan my story, but his wristband is still missing, and it's harder for him to understand. I show him mine and with each sentence his face switches from doubt to fear. I explain the groups plans and determination to reach the game’s fringes, more urgent now we're firmly embroiled in the fight between the two factions. I chose to give the artefact to the Elders and not the Kingdom. If I could look at Reuben’s book containing my details, I’d lay bets my reputation with the Kingdom has dropped further.
Today's meal matches the last.
Wolf and Rat Stew
Tender and delicious
+ 5 stamina
I grimace at the fact my bracelet always points out what's in the bowl. I could stomach the stew if I was ignorant about the ingredients.
But my health is low after today. I focus on chewing the potatoes and savouring the rich sauce before swallowing the meat lumps whole, trying not to think about what I'm eating.
“You don’t have a wristband,” I say to Aidan. “That’s lucky. Maybe you’ll be gone by tomorrow?”
The thought leadens my stomach. I’ve become friendly with the other players, but having Aidan in the game gives me a link to my old life. Selfishly, I want him here.
“I doubt it.”
“How did the Kingdom people remove your band?” I ask and pull at mine. On the first day, my wrist reddened as I tried to pull the thing off. There’s no visible join in the band. How the hell did whoever put it on my hand?
“They tried with blades and axes—hence the marks—but eventually magic was used.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that hits you on the head, makes you unconscious and wake up with no wristband.” His mouth turns down and I reach out to curl my fingers around his hand. "How well do you know Jay, Dean, and Zara? Can we trust them?"
"Jay, a little, Dean too. They're okay. Zara is more of a loner and often quests alone. We haven't discussed our lives much, though I know Jay is a nurse in real life." I stir the stew. "My memories of my life drift away each day, Aidan. That scares me too. What if I eventually forget?"
"How could you? Twenty-one years as Eleanor versus a few days here? This is what we'll hopefully forget."
"The woman who took you away when we arrived back in Grunwald. Is she your trainer?"
“Yes, not that she had much to train me with. Just a spell that kills people with necrosis, which is nice,” he says sarcastically. “Oh, and the demon transformation talent which apparently I can’t control at this level.”
I pull a face. “Oh, crap.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re the calmest, gentlest person I know, Aidan. It’s weird you have this ability here. A little different to the small dog you transform into in the Game outside this one.”
“Slightly,” he mutters.
There’s another theory in my mind: what if not having a band means Aidan can't level up? And if he can't, does that mean he's stuck? I nod and smile at him through my doubts.
"How about you? I bet you're loving the magic studies. You're a book lover."
"I don't study. Reuben says the magic is inherent and if I focus, I'll connect and grow power that way. I need to accept my path, apparently."
"I have to say, I was impressed with the way you spoke back to Zara before. The El I know would've kept her head down to avoid conflict. Maybe this new El will believe in herself too?"
My mouth dries. If I progress and follow the quest chains, I'll level and have the skills. But the confidence I need in myself is something different altogether. I'm also conflicted over killing others in the game. That was easier today, when it was my life or theirs, and I know how a game ends: kill the "big bad". My biggest worry about killing isn't a moral one, but whether I'll survive.
Jay arrives at the tavern, an imposing figure moving through the tables before sitting. He's dressed in a clean tunic and cloth pants. What will happen when the elite player with a history of wearing the best armour in his class discovers a Mythical robe that would give him immense power? Will he put aside his pride and wear it? The game messes with our minds, and it's just a matter of time before this happens.
He runs a hand across his head, mussing his hair. If I still look like El, he must look like Jay. But here, now, who are we? I can't lose focus and allow the panic to set in.
"Have you seen Zara?" I ask him.
"No, but she agreed to come. I'm sure her snarky self will join us soon."
"I think it's a front," I reply. One thing I've learned from watching people around me, when I sat on the fringes of my high school life, was how to read them. Once or twice her mask has slipped, and apprehension flickered in her green eyes.
Does her personality reflect her role in our other reality outside the game? Maybe she's a lawyer or a teacher—someone who doesn't like to be wrong, that's for sure.
"Perhaps."
A barmaid appears and wipes the table in front of Jay. I bite my lip in amusement, because nobody wiped the table for us when we sat. With a smile—one she also didn't give the rest of us—she sets a bowl and flagon in front of him. The barmaid's reward is a rare Jay smile.
The scene flashes out of vision for a moment as I study the girl. She's human, her dark hair in two braids, and make-up free, of course.
I hate when I meet somebody in the street, know I've met them before but not when, unsure whether to avoid eye contact or say hello in the hope they
keep walking too.
This feeling washes over me as I look at the girl. I recognise her. Nope. This is mind playing tricks. She doesn't stand out from the crowd; she has one of those 'every girl' faces suited to a game character.
Still, I watch her walk away, still grasping at my memory of her that hovers at the edge of my mind.
"What do you think the new quest line will be?" Jay asks in a low voice. “I hope it’s another like the catacombs. I got a shedload of experience points and more powerful spells.”
“I think Reuben hinted that I won't get a new quest chain until we’re higher level,” I say. “We need to focus on finding anything and everything we can do for experience, and quickly.”
“Same. I asked for my next ‘task’ and was told to come back when I was ‘more practiced’.”
I smile. “Another coincidence? Actually, here’s something odd. Reuben didn't know who Damon was. Said he’d never heard of him.”
Jay purses his lips. “Huh? How?”
“Maybe Damon was actually a game character sent to test us by being an annoying douche,” I suggest. “Unless he was a player.”
The thought had crossed my mind but made no sense. If he were, he’d tell us. We’d be in the same boat.
Unless Damon was a player and somehow left.
A female figure drags a chair out and plonks herself opposite. "Is there anything decent to eat?"
Zara's no longer covered in chainmail but dressed down—or up—in a long, black dress. Although less blood-stained and dirty, my new robe doesn't allow me the same allure as her. Plus, she brushed her hair recently. Mine remains dragged into a straggly ponytail. My bonnet is tucked in my backpack, along with the hope I'll loot something better to wear. I eye the guys to see if any of them are interested in how she looks, but their weary faces show no interest.
I’m secretly smug their attention remains on me.
“Enjoy some lovely stew.” I push a spare bowl towards her.
“What are you all talking about?” Zara asks through a mouthful.
“Quests and where to find them,” I say.
“We should stay on track,” says Aidan. “If this is a game, follow what we’re told.”
"Like we have any choice?" asks Jay. "We're in a freaking game. There's only so far off the track we can go before dying horribly and finding ourselves reset to somewhere. Hopefully not the beginning."
The music and voices in the tavern grow in volume as nobody at the table speaks. "Has anybody's trainer told you what happens if we die?"
"It's a game; we'll respawn," says Zara, lifting the mead jug and pouring into a spare wooden cup. "Don't stress. Or don't die, if this does stress you."
Aidan barks a laugh. "That's my plan."
But it has to happen to one of us. Inevitable. "Okay, well we can discuss strategy, maybe? We could meet up and practice? Maybe find a pack of something that wouldn't hesitate to kill us and return the favour?"
"Good idea. I know where there's a pack of goblins who drop nice loot too. Plus, they have plenty of gold." She pulls at her gold necklace, the large emerald drawing the colour of her eyes. "I might be badass, but I like to buy pretty things."
Then she laughs, the first genuinely relaxed sound I've heard from Zara. "How about you, El?"
And the first time she's called me anything but Mage. "I can't usually afford pretty things."
I rub a hand across my mouth and sigh. I'm with people who have big personalities and a few team skills. We're thrown together and grope our way through the dark in an unknown world. Fantastic. We survived the catacombs, but next time? I don't know.
"I think killing the goblins is a great idea.”
Zara smiles broadly. "They're low level but if we pull a pack or two, we can see how we work together, right?"
“Goblins," mutters Jay. "I hate bloody sword and sorcery games. Give me an urban setting filled with the supernatural and conspiracy anytime."
"Ha!" Zara nods. "Agreed."
"Yes! Anything but running around killing cliché characters."
"And guns," enthuses Zara. "Give me a gun."
"Decent skill sets and levelling systems," he replies.
I cough to interrupt their enthusiasm. "Well, this is where we are, and we're surviving. Tomorrow, we practice and plan our next quests.”
The sickly mead I knocked back to drown the wolf meat taste takes hold. The tavern blurs more with each sip and I'm surprised how comfortable I am amongst other races and alliance around me.
But I can't stop looking at the barmaid. Perhaps I saw her elsewhere over the last few days—many in-game characters look similar. Unsteadily, I leave the table and I cross to where she's tidying glasses from the bar. A tall male elf glances at me and nods, two dwarves close by are oblivious of my approach as they talk about their day in loud voices, boasting about their kills.
She turns to me. "Hey sweetie, what can I get for you?"
Her words smack me across the face, the voice and phrase too familiar.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"Elizabeth." Her server smile stays glued to her face. "Would you like more mead?"
I'm blinded by another image I have of her.
Not Elizabeth.
Liz.
I peer harder, picturing this girl with make-up and short hair. Her mouth purses at my scrutiny before her lips curve back into her polite smile. She's a server from the coffee shop I visit with Aidan.
Chapter Twenty-Three
My breath is snatched away, as if a band tightened across my chest. I spin my head from side to side, to check out the tavern.
The layout matches 'Bean Better' coffee shop, right down to the position of the entrance. The furnishings belong to the time the game recreates, but the space is one I've sat in many times.
I ignore the panic and stride to the opposite end; to where an extra seating area is tucked away in Bean Better.
The same.
The stairs leading downwards behind the bar area match Bean Better too. I steady a trembling hand on the wall and close my eyes, focusing on taking deeper breaths.
No. This isn't real. Mind tricks.
I flatten myself against the wall and Aidan approaches. He clicks his fingers in front of my eyes. "Hey, El. How drunk are you? You're attracting attention standing there and mumbling like a mad woman."
I grip his sleeve. "We're in Bean Better."
Aidan closes his hand over mine. "No, we're not."
"We are!" I jab a finger in Elizabeth's direction. "She's a server at Bean Better. This place is an exact copy." Aidan opens his mouth to respond. "Look at the inn's layout."
He stands in front of me and places both hands on my shoulders, the way he's done many times when I've freaked out. "El, I understand after today your mind is all over the place. I think you'd better go back to the Academy."
I attempt to push his arms away, but Aidan's grip remains. "I need air," I whisper. "I feel sick."
Aidan steps back, and the moment there's space, I rush past him and through the open door. Outside, the stars look down, mocking me from the night sky. I turn and stagger backwards across the street, counting the buildings in the row.
Five.
The sign hanging from the pole outside the building to the left reads: Mundo's Meats.
I dash past and look at the one to the left: Tayla's Curios.
Perspiration breaks out across my back, the fear coiling around my insides and intensifying. What the hell is going on here?
A hand clamps my shoulder and I jerk away, ready to defend myself.
“El?” Dean looks down at me, face filled with concern. When I don't respond, he cups my face. “I just arrived. What happened?”
“Aidan won't listen.”
“To what?”
I pull his hand away and pace to the neighbouring shop and back. “This. This is where I live. In my real life, I mean.”
"El. You should go and sleep off the mead." I turn to where Aidan now stands beside D
ean.
“It’s not because I’m drunk!” I tremble with a fear ten times greater than when I encountered the monsters trying to kill me before. "We are here. Look at this." I jab a finger at the building either side. "Bean Better is located between a butcher's shop and a gift shop. This matches."
Dean places his hand on my arm. "El, shush, your mind's playing tricks on you."
"No!" I swallow back the rising hysteria. "The same row of buildings, the same type of shops either side."
I allow Aidan and Dean to guide me towards a nearby stone bench in the shadows, out of onlookers' sight. Zara and Jay appear in the tavern doorway and scout around. Jay spots us first and heads over, Zara at his heels.
I’m too shaken up to relay my story, so Aidan fills them in. Zara crosses her arms and studies the buildings. "Come on, there's nothing unusual about the street, or the one your mind is basing this on. It's not significant. If somebody creates a game, they'll take what's typical and familiar for players, right?"
"But this is too familiar."
"Aidan?" asks Jay. "You're from the same place as El. What do you think?"
Rubbing a hand across his mouth, Aidan studies me. We've been friends long enough for him to detect something's wrong, and when conversations should be halted.
“I don’t see it,” he says with a wary glance thrown my way.
“Today has been a headfuck,” says Dean, placing a hand on my shoulder. “The last two days have. Sleep and you’ll feel better.”
I stare back at him. “Really? You honestly think that?”
“What else can we do, El?” asks Jay. “Don't let the game break you.”
Aidan speaks. “I think we all need to sleep and prepare for tomorrow. Gold, levelling, and end game. That's our focus. If somebody's trying to mess with our heads, we ignore it. I suspect our challenges are more than quests and monsters.”
“I second that,” says Zara. “We need to finish this game as soon as we can.”
I close my eyes and take a calming breath. They're right. I need to fight this. “Tell us more about these goblins, Zara. Let’s figure out our next move.”
We part after making our plans to decimate the goblin population, but I can't shake the idea I’m right about this town. I return to my quarters at the training centre but don't lie down to sleep. Legs curled under me and resting against the wall, I study the maps on my silver band—the one of the surrounding area and the city. Important places are marked—the trading house, training halls for the different player classes, the marketplace. The similarities to my life aren't as apparent here, but there are buildings in positions I recognise. The cleric training matches a church from the edge of the suburb. The market is located where a small shopping centre is in my world.
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