by Terry Schott
Aleron nodded.
Kieran pursed his lips together and shook his head. “That was your body dying back home.”
“No.”
“It was.” Kieran paused for a moment to let the information sink in. “You have no other place to live, kid. This is your home reality now. Help us out and we’ll make sure you have a good life here.”
Aleron frowned. Then he took a deep breath and nodded.
Chapter 10
Isaac ran toward the orc, sword drawn and pulled back to strike as he screamed loudly. He felt light-headed and strong at the same time, as adrenaline coursed through his body. Then he swung downwards, his arm vibrating through the handle of his blade as it connected with the man-sized creature’s shield. Suddenly he felt his left foot slip on the grass. His balance shifted and he began to fall backward. His eyes widened and his breath was stolen from his lungs as he hit the ground with a hard thud. A second later, the heavy body of the orc crushed into him as it pressed the attack.
Panic gripped him as he tried to make his lungs work but couldn’t. The orc’s face loomed close, jaws snapping as the ugly beast pinned Isaac to the ground with its weight. Everything began to move in slow motion as he saw the creature raise a wicked studded mace, preparing to strike.
Time moved normally again as a sword blade flashed into view and sliced the top of the orc’s head away. Reddish-pink gore spattered, and the orc toppled to the ground. Isaac blinked as hot blood splattered onto his face, some getting into his eyes. His breath returned and he raised one arm to wipe the blood away, squinting as Fen’s smiling face appeared over him. The warrior reached down, and Isaac gripped the offered hand as he was hauled to his feet.
Fen clapped him on the back. “Tiring the mobs out by letting them beat the hell out of you isn’t really the best strategy to survive, mate.”
Isaac laughed and turned to examine the scene. Three orcs lay on the ground, all dead, thanks to Fen. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I was useless.”
“What are you talking about?” Fen laughed. “You were a huge help.”
“The kills are all yours. I didn’t even put a cut on them.”
“Maybe not, but you kept two of ’em busy while I took care of the other.” He winked. “They must have thought you were the most dangerous, sending two at you instead of me. I think that saved us. If two had rushed me first, I don’t think I would have been able to put them down fast enough to peel the third off of you.”
“Being a target to beat on was not the kind of role I wanted to fill in a fight.”
Fen laughed again. “You’ve got no training, and your class isn’t meant for close fighting. We’re alive, the mobs are dead. That’s all that counts as far as I’m concerned.” He nudged Isaac in the ribs. “Don’t worry, you did your part as far as any party member would be concerned.”
Isaac grimaced and clutched at the spot where Fen had poked him.
“How bad does it hurt?”
“More than it should. I seriously can’t get over how real this place is.”
“Like I keep telling you,” Fen nodded. “The two of you hit a home run when you made this reality. Every single sense has been integrated into the experience. This world is as real as the one back home. Maybe even more real, thanks to the clarity of connection and digital interfacing with the sensory inputs that each player gets.”
Isaac pushed gingerly against his ribs. “Right now I’d be a bit happier for a bit less realism. My ribs are on fire.”
“Likely broken, bruised at the very least.”
“Wish I was higher level.” Isaac shook his head. “A bard’s healing song would be helpful right now.” Fen’s eyebrows rose, and the bard shook his head. “I know, we aren’t here to adventure.”
“Hey, if you want to change plans and level up a bit, I’m totally game.”
“No. We keep looking for Sebastian. How close are we?”
“Hard to say, but we are in the neighbourhood of where I knew him to be. We should find him soon.”
Isaac moved to where they had dropped their supplies and reached down to pick up his pack. A stab of pain forced him to stop and then move slower, but he managed to lift the pack and sling it over his shoulder without crying out. “Let’s find the old bugger, deal with him, and then adventure for a bit after that.”
“Sounds good to me.” Fen moved to the nearest orc and knelt beside it.
“What are you doing?”
“Looting.”
Isaac sighed.
“The treasure system of this game runs on random world drops, right?” Fen began to rifle through the creature’s ragged clothing.
“That’s right.”
“Just our luck one of these pieces of trash has a super-powerful item on them and we miss out ’cause we don’t take the time to check. How terrible would that be?”
“We wouldn’t know, since we’d not have checked.”
“You might be willing to take that chance, but I’m not.” Fen chuckled. “Couple extra minutes, then we’re on our way.”
Chapter 11
Sebastian stopped at a pottery booth and picked up a small vase. He raised it to eye level and turned it slowly, stealing a quick glance to his right.
The warrior and bard were still following him.
He returned the vase and began winding his way through the crowd once more. He quickened his pace and ducked into a side alley. Ten steps in, he turned and stopped.
The men had just entered the alley. They saw him waiting and came to a halt a few feet away.
Sebastian reached into a pouch and withdrew a handful of fine white sand. He let a bit trickle between his fingers. “Keep those hands where I can see ’em, boys.”
Both raised their hands. The warrior smiled. “Did your skills finally come back, Seb, or are you bluffing?”
Sebastian frowned. “Do we know each other?”
“From another life.” The warrior winked. “Are you still wearing my necklace?”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “Fen?”
“In the flesh. A new suit, but it’s me inside.”
Sebastian dropped the remaining sand and strode forward. The two men embraced, both laughing as they did so.
“By the gods, it’s good to see you again.” Sebastian held his friend at arm’s length, his gaze taking the man’s new avatar in. “When did you get back?”
“Only a few days ago.”
“Word was that they’d stopped allowing players to log in.”
“You know me, Seb. I always manage to get special attention.”
Sebastian laughed and looked at the bard. “Who’s your friend, and why’s he looking at me with a strange expression?”
“Seb.” Fen’s tone became more sombre. “I want you to stay calm.”
“Calm?” The older man frowned.
“You might not be happy when you learn who this guy with me is.”
Sebastian laughed. “What do I care? Any friend of yours has to be fine, right?”
“Hello, Sebby.”
Sebastian’s smile melted.
“Things are not so good out there, Seb,” Fen continued. “There are problems with the sys—”
“Shut your mouth, Fen.” Sebastian glared at the bard.
“Come on man, you should listen to what he has to—”
“I said be quiet.” Sebastian’s eyes remained locked on the man.
The three stood without speaking for a long moment.
Finally, Sebastian’s laughter broke the silence. He closed his eyes and shook his head, laughing until he was almost out of breath. Then he opened his eyes. “Thought you were too valuable to risk entering this place, Isaac.”
“You left me no choice, Seb.”
“Sure I did.”
“The entire computer system is having issues.”
“Computer systems always have issues.”
“It’s serious.”
Sebastian stroked his beard. �
��I told you there would be growing pains as things progressed.”
“It’s more than that.”
Sebastian snorted and glanced sideways at Fen. “I’m not happy about this.”
“Why?” Fen asked.
Sebastian walked toward Isaac and stopped close to the other man. His hand grasped the hilt of the dagger at his belt. “You don’t belong here, Isaac.”
“I need your help.”
“Too late for that.”
Isaac’s eyes widened as Sebastian drew his dagger and buried it in the side of his business partner’s neck.
“Sebastian!” Fen shouted.
Sebastian let go of his dagger, leaving it buried in Isaac as he took a step back.
Isaac slowly sank to his knees, his mouth opening and closing without making a sound while blood gushed from the wound. Isaac grabbed weakly for the hilt but was unable to grasp it as he sank to his knees and then flopped forward, face-first, to the ground.
Sebastian stared at the man until he took his last breath and stopped moving. Then he looked up at Fen.
“Seb, what the hell did you just do?”
“Why would you bring him to me?”
Fen sighed. “It was the only way he would allow me to return. Like you said, they’re no longer allowing players to come back in.”
Sebastian bent over Isaac’s corpse, tugged the dagger free, and wiped it on the dead body’s cloak before returning it to his sheath. “Because of the NPC violence toward players?”
Fen shook his head.
“What, then?”
“I can’t explain it!” Fen threw his arms into the air. “Maybe you should have let him live a few seconds to give you the full lowdown.”
Sebastian grinned. “I have no regrets.”
“He’s gonna come back.”
“Good.”
“I don’t like that smile. You’ll kill him again, won’t you?”
The older man nodded. “Every time I see him.”
Fen undid his sword belt and set it on the ground. Then he removed his breast and shoulder plates, and gently set them beside the sword.
“What are you doing?”
“Take these with you. They’re good quality, and I’ll want them back.” Fen stood and drew his dagger. “Next time, do me a favour?”
“Next time?”
Fen placed the edge of the dagger against his neck. “At least listen to what he has to say before you kill him.”
“What are you doing?”
“I think this entire game is in danger of a fatal crash, Seb.” He drew the blade across his throat and dropped to the ground.
Sebastian rushed forward to try to help, but the cut was too deep to staunch. Fen bled out in seconds.
Chapter 12
Xander followed Mercy, his gaze downcast and watching her boots so that he could match her pace, staying two steps behind and in formation with her in order to impress those watching. Still, he couldn’t help but take a quick peek up when they entered the great hall for their audience with the Shard.
Xander tried to calm his mind and banish the twinge in his gut that being in the Death Stryker leader’s presence seemed to evoke. He focused on taking measured breaths, his eyes once again locked on the heels of Mercy’s boots.
In his peripheral vision, he saw her fingertips wiggle their predetermined signal. After two more steps he stopped walking, exactly at the same moment she did. He knelt, touching one knee against the ground, head bowed. Xander detected an amused tone in the leader’s voice as he addressed them.
“And so they return.”
“Bathed in darkness,” Mercy said.
“All thanks to our Lady,” the Shard completed the ritual greeting. “Rise, sister and brother. Let me take a look at the both of you.”
Xander stood and looked up, his eyes meeting the Shard’s. Xander couldn’t tell whether the look coming from the leader of the chapter house was mocking, encouraging, or something else. He stood at attention and the Shard walked slowly around them, hands behind his back.
“Your adventures brought honour to the Dark Lady,” the Shard said.
“So it would seem,” Mercy replied.
“You bring us continued prosperity by way of your tithe, that much is certain.”
Xander pursed his lips tight to avoid smiling. Thirty percent of all treasure and loot acquired while abroad was given to the chapter house. For every adventurer who went out, dozens of order members stayed behind to ensure the settlements were protected, fed, and well kept. The tithe ensured that all tied to the order were cared for. With the amount of treasure that Xander and Mercy had brought back from their adventure, no one would go without for some time.
“His skills are progressing?” the Shard asked.
Mercy nodded. “At a fair pace.”
“Are you downplaying his prowess, sister?” The Shard finished his circuit and stood in front of them. “Or trying to hide the fact that he is weaker than he should be at this point?”
“I would match him against any who are a year his senior.”
“Well, then.” The leader considered Xander with a smirk. “Strahgil’s charge is close to a year Xander’s senior, I believe. Perhaps we will arrange a contest.”
“Closer to two years,” Mercy snorted. “Still, I am confident that Xander can handle her easily.”
The Shard addressed Xander. “And your gift. Have you become accustomed to Death’s Kiss, brother?”
“More so as each day passes, Lord.”
“What spells can he command thanks to the kiss, Mercy?”
Mercy motioned with her chin at Xander and he answered. “Thus far I have learned to call bonestorm, detect undead, and true sight, Lord Shadow.”
“Bonestorm?”
“That’s right,” Mercy said.
The Shard sniffed and tapped a pouch attached to Xander’s belt. “That explains the bag full of bone dust. What’s your cast time on that spell?”
“Four seconds.”
“Only seconds? That is extremely fast. Were you able to use the spell to decent effect?”
“He killed servants of the Light with it,” Mercy said.
The commander’s eyes widened. “Is that so?”
“A holy paladin and his young squires.”
The Shard laughed. “Bravo, lad.”
“Plus a mid-level priest.”
The Shard frowned. “In a single cast?”
Xander nodded.
“That is extremely impressive. A generous sacrifice to the Dark Lady. Be seated.” The Shard gestured toward a table and they moved to sit, Mercy and Xander on one side, the Shard on the other. A young girl placed cups in front of them and another followed behind to fill them with wine. The Shard raised his glass. “To a successful first adventure.” He touched his glass to each of the others’ and then took a long drink. “I’m glad that you’re doing well, Xander. When you first returned from visiting the Dark Lady, I did not expect you to survive long.” He nodded at Mercy. “When she agreed to train you, I grudgingly increased your odds. But now that you return with considerable success and experience under your belt, I am much more optimistic about your future. I find a small part of me actually hoping for your continued prosperity.”
“You praise him too highly, brother,” Mercy said.
“Not really.” The Shard drained his glass. The servant rushed to refill it. “It is apparent that you are ready to participate in full-scale battle, which is very timely.” The hint of a smile touched his lips before he took a sip of wine. “One or two conflicts have arisen since your departure.”
“With followers of the Light?” Mercy asked.
“No. A different opportunity has come calling, and I think the two of you would be well suited to participate.” He stared at Xander. “The Scouts have requested our aid in hunting down these New Travellers.”
Xander kept his expression neutral as he returned the leader’s icy gaze.
“Chasing stragglers after the battle h
as been won is a waste of my talents, brother,” she said.
“Normally, but these New Travellers are extremely clever. The few thousand who still remain—they infiltrate all aspects of our lives, hiding their essence inside the bodies of those who were once friends and family.”
“Possession.” Mercy shrugged. “I’m familiar with how they work.”
“Of course.” His eyes flitted to Xander and then away as the Shard took another drink of wine.
“I will consider your request.” Mercy set her glass on the table and stood.
“Request?” The Death Stryker frowned.
“During training it is my responsibility to decide the course of action that my charge follows. It is my right.”
“I do not challenge that.”
“Good.” Mercy nodded to Xander. They stood as one and turned to leave.
“The Scout representative will arrive within the week,” the Shard said. “You will remain here until then.”
Mercy spun, eyes flashing.
“You train him. I won’t interfere with that. I am, however, still leader of this chapter house. It is my right to command all who follow.” He frowned. “Unless you intend to challenge my authority?”
Mercy’s lips pursed, and the fingers of her sword hand twitched ever so slightly before she tightened them into a fist and shook her head. “I do not.”
The Shard waved his hand. “Enjoy your brief rest from the road. I will summon you when the Scout arrives. You are dismissed.”
Chapter 13
Isaac entered the room and sat opposite Kara and Fen at the conference table.
“That was quick,” she said. “You boys barely logged in before getting killed.”
Fen laughed and Isaac scowled. “At least we found him. Not the outcome I was hoping for, but I guess the fact that I’m surprised is why we lasted so little time.”
“Jeremy had just begun to tell me about it.”
“Fen,” Isaac said.
“Right.” She grinned. “Apparently Sebastian was none too pleased to see you?”
“Stabbed me right in the throat.” The other two laughed as he reached up to rub at his neck. “It’s not funny. Hurt like a son of a bitch.”