by Terry Schott
“It’s not too late to change the strategy.” Fen threw his wrapper into the garbage can near the table and lay down. “Enter as a young bard in training. Or some other rookie class.”
“And be easily killed by Sebastian again?” Isaac shook his head. “No, your idea is good. I will enter the game already powerful. That way I can protect myself when we find Sebastian. Increase my odds of surviving the encounter with him.”
Fen nodded. “All you have to do is avoid the pitfalls of being a more experienced character until we get to Sebastian.”
Fen closed his eyes. “Fingers crossed.”
“Let’s cross all of them,” Isaac laughed. “To get all the luck we can.”
***
“Isaac!”
A woman in her middle thirties ran towards him, skirts lifted with one hand, an ornate drum hanging from rich coloured cords in the other. He waited until she reached him.
“What is it, Lea?” he asked.
The woman leaned over, gasping for breath. “It’s Tobren.”
Despite the litany of details and information that Isaac had been forced to quickly assimilate upon arriving in the game this time, the name of his avatar’s only son sprang to mind quickly. “What’s wrong?”
“He was thrown from his horse against the barn.” She held the drum toward him. “He hit his head bad. He’s not moving.”
Isaac accepted the drum and they began running to the barn.
***
The stable man and barn maid knelt beside Tobren’s still form. They stood and backed up when Isaac approached, arms crossed and brows furrowed with obvious concern. Isaac calmed himself, letting the memories and experience of his avatar’s consciousness drift upwards so that he could make use of them. Tapping into the character’s experience of healing, he scanned the boy, noting the way the limbs were arranged and assessing the situation as best he could.
“No arms or legs broken.” He knelt and closed his eyes, allowing his fingers to feel the boy’s skull for signs of damage. Finding none, he gently pried open one eyelid to check the pupils for abnormal dilation, and then rested his finger lightly against the neck to find a pulse.
“Turn him over to see if he’s cut,” the stable man said.
“There’s no turning him until I make certain his neck isn’t broken.” Isaac heard the commanding tone in his own voice.
Footsteps sounded, and a second later Isaac’s apprentice, Jyachin, knelt beside him. “Is he okay?”
“Hush,” Isaac said. “This is not a teaching moment.”
“Of course.” The young bard stood and took a step back.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t learn something if you stand and watch quietly.”
Jyachin stood and joined Lea.
Isaac couched the drum in the crook of his left arm and licked his lips. He’d only been in this body for a couple of days and hadn’t found time to learn any bard skills or abilities. This was very different from the PC game he’d spent months playing. With the computer game, you clicked a few buttons and the magic appeared. In Blades VR, Sebastian and his team had created something so real that the very act of crafting magic was as complex and confusing as one would have expected it to be in the real world.
He pursed his lips and considered the unconscious boy. The odds were good that he wasn’t going to die. He was in charge of this small farm that his avatar had purchased years earlier. He could announce that Tobren would be fine and have him taken to bed to recover. No one would question his assessment, or wonder why he did not play a healing song.
As long as he did recover.
Isaac’s eyes flitted to Lea and quickly back to the ground. He pursed his lips. If I try to craft a healing and fail, he thought to himself, then they’ll know what I am. A New Traveller; a fake.
He closed his eyes and decided. With a nod he adjusted the drum and held his right hand over the tightly stretched animal skin.
“Wait.”
He paused and turned. Lea’s eyes were wide. “He’s not bleeding?”
“No,” Isaac said.
“Any sign of broken bones or damage to his head?”
Isaac shook his head.
“Then I’m certain he will be fine. All he needs is a bit of time and rest to recover.”
Isaac frowned. “I should sing a healing tune. Just in case there’s something wrong with him that I’ve missed.”
“Nonsense.” Lea’s gaze flitted to the hired hands before she looked back to Isaac and shook her head. She stepped closer. “Let’s get him to bed. If he doesn’t come around in an hour or two, then you can heal him.”
“You sure?”
“Of course.”
“But you were frantic when you came to get me.”
“It had just happened.” She smiled. “I was being over-cautious. Grab him under the shoulders. Jyachin, you get his feet.”
Isaac did as he was told and hefted the boy.
“Back to work,” Lea said to the barn maid and stable man. “If we need anything, someone will come for you.”
They carried the boy into the house and placed him on his bed. Lea sent Jyachin out to practice his bard drills. She sat on the side of the bed and placed one hand on her son’s forehead. Isaac heard the front door to the house close.
“Something’s wrong,” Lea said.
“Is he feverish?” Isaac took a step closer to the bed.
“I’m talking about you, Isaac.”
He froze.
She stroked Tobren’s hair slowly. “You’ve been different for the past few days. At first I thought you were simply tired. Then I thought you were about to have another angry fit.”
Isaac frowned.
She looked up. “Because you are stuck here. Living this mundane life while all you crave is the open road and adventure.” She paused. He said nothing. “But it isn’t that, is it?”
“I’m fine, hon. Everything is okay, I promise.”
Lea’s eyes became glassy and her lip quivered. “You’re acting like a New Traveller.”
He frowned. A flash of host memory surfaced as she spoke the words. “How my brother behaved when the change occurred in him.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Don’t lie. It’s exactly the same. You seem confused. Unsure of where you are, as if you only now arrived to your body; to this life.”
He paused for a long moment and then lowered his head. “I had no idea. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
Lea stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Never mind.” He considered his next question carefully. “Will you tell the others? That I’m a Traveller?”
“A New Traveller.” She sighed. “That’s the real problem, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know.”
“It is. The Scouts have ordered all New Travellers to be exposed and dealt with.”
“The Scouts?”
She nodded. “The penalty for trying to hide you is death.” Tobren groaned and stirred on the bed. Lea turned her full attention to the boy, leaning in to make sure he was okay. After a moment he settled. “That’s a good sign,” she said. “I think that he’s going to be fine.”
“Good.”
Silence filled the room.
Isaac waited.
“I won’t turn you in.”
Isaac let out his breath, only now realizing that he had been holding it. “Thank you, Lea.”
She shrugged. “I know my husband is still in there with you. I’m not certain what kind of existence he is having, but it’s better than being tortured and killed by an angry mob.” She stood. “You’ll have to leave.”
Isaac smiled and Lea’s lips twitched. “You were afraid you’d be stuck here, living out your days as a farmer?”
“That unpleasant thought had occurred to me. No offence.”
She smiled, but Isaac could see the sadness in it. “My husband felt the same way when he had to stop adventuring. To settle down and raise
a family. Perhaps it is better for both of you to be on the road once more.”
“I’ll leave tomorrow.”
She nodded and stroked her son’s forehead.
Chapter 17
Mercy looked up from her book and watched Xander stare out the window. The morning sunlight clearly illuminated the anger in his expression. She smiled and looked back to her book. “That will not do.”
“What won’t? Did you find something important in that book?”
“No.” Her eyes continued to skip from one word to the next. “I speak of your attitude. Rather, your lack of ability to hide your sourness.”
“I can hide it. When I must.”
Mercy looked up from the book and observed him with a blank expression. “What does my face tell you?”
He rolled his eyes. “That you’re not pleased with me.”
“No. The circumstances give that away. If you were to walk into this room right now and look at me, what would you deduce from my face, body posture, et cetera?”
“Oh.” Xander cocked his head, his eyes moving up and down to take her entire demeanour into account. Then he shrugged. “Nothing. I wouldn’t know if you are angry, happy, or anything in between.”
“Which means that your guard would be down.”
“Not necessarily.”
“Then I must appear threatening.”
“No.”
Mercy raised one eyebrow.
“I’m always ready for danger. That’s part of your training.”
“Always?”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
Mercy stood and drew her dagger. “Come here.”
Xander obeyed.
Mercy flipped the dagger and offered him the hilt. “Hold this in your hand and fully extend your arm to one side, keeping the blade at shoulder level.”
Xander followed her instructions. She checked the level of his arm and nodded. Then she pulled her chair to the window, sat down, and opened her book. “Now hold it there until I say otherwise.” She resumed reading.
***
Mercy read.
Time passed and eventually, Xander’s level of discomfort began to rise. First it was a small change in his breathing pattern, switching from long, even breaths to a more shallow cadence. Some time later, he would gasp and hold his breath before letting it out.
When Mercy’s ears detected the slight movement of material as he shifted his shoulder in an attempt to keep the blade in position, she closed the book with a sharp snap, looked up, and stood. Xander’s arm shook and shivered, but the blade remained extended in the air at his side.
Mercy moved to stand in front of him and crossed her arms. “If I command you to keep holding that dagger out there for another hour, could you do so?”
Xander stared past her into space. “Yes.” The word came out in a hiss.
“A day?”
His eyes widened and she laughed softly, extending one hand. “Give it to me.”
Xander held the dagger for a long second before placing it in Mercy’s outstretched hand. Then he lowered his arm and rubbed at his shoulder.
She returned the dagger to its sheath in one smooth motion, without looking away from her apprentice’s eyes. “We may think that it is possible to constantly do something, but it isn’t. The dagger was not very heavy.”
He laughed.
“For the first few hours.”
“True.”
“Over time, everything changes.” Mercy moved to Xander’s side and placed the flat of her right hand on the front of his shoulder, the palm of her left against the back. She began to massage the area, rotating her hands and pulsing varying amounts of pressure. He winced and sucked air through his teeth but did not move otherwise. “Earlier you said that you are always ready for danger. Has this exercise taught you anything about such a claim?”
“Yes,” Xander nodded. “It is impossible to do anything forever at the highest level, even the simplest of things.”
“Even the simplest things.” She nodded. “This is both a weakness, and a strength. When you first stand in front of another, they will never be more alert to danger than at that moment. As time passes, their guard will invariably decrease. Even should they want to stay fully prepared, their mind and body will not let them. The body has a cycle. It ebbs and flows, rising and decreasing in all areas, even caution and preparedness. An average person will tell you much about themselves through body language and expression.” She stopped massaging his shoulder and stepped back. “You held the dagger for a long time on the first try. Were we to repeat this exercise every day, you would hold it much longer a month from now. Though it is impossible to maintain control of your expression and body language forever, with training it is very possible to maintain control during every waking minute. ”
“But it’s okay to show emotions, isn’t it?” Xander asked. “I see you do it all the time.” He paused and then laughed. “Maybe not all the time, but you know what I mean.”
Mercy nodded. “Emotion and body language are powerful tools. Very effective when used properly. But it is you who must be in control. Do not be a victim of yourself. Unchecked, your emotions and mindset tell others what you are up to. Many times it is better to keep yourself guarded. Learn control, and then you can decide when it can be relaxed.”
Xander bowed. “This is an excellent lesson. Thank you.”
Mercy considered her apprentice and smiled. “Thank me by showing that you understand and have learned it.”
Chapter 18
The three stood in front of a large white building in the centre of the town. It was two and a half storeys high, which made it the tallest building in the settlement. Large windows on the first floor allowed passersby to view the display cases, which were filled with a large assortment of items for sale. Three wooden steps led up to the narrow white porch that surrounded the front and both sides of the building. Entry was provided through two large, glass-paned double doors.
Sebastian squinted up at the rectangular white sign mounted to the second-floor siding. “That’s funny.”
“What is?” Shale followed his gaze, looking up at the neatly painted black letters.
“The sign.”
“Olson’s Mercantile?”
“Yeah.”
“Must be his last name. I’m not sure what’s so funny about it.”
“Bramell Olson?” Sebastian said, laughing. “If so, there’s no way that’s his real name.” He stared at Shale and waited. “You don’t get the reference?”
She shook her head.
“Little House on the Prairie?”
“What’s that?”
“It was a TV show.” He paused and waited. She said nothing. “Never mind. You’re too young.” Sebastian laughed. “Let’s go in.”
A bell attached to the door rang as they entered and looked around.
“Good morning,” A dwarf wearing an apron greeted them from behind the main counter. “What can I do fer ya?”
“You can bring the family out,” Sebastian said. “I’d love to meet Nellie and Willie. I’m not sure about meeting your wife, though.”
Shale frowned and looked at Ezref. The young crafter shrugged but the dwarf barked out a loud laugh.
“There will be no appearance by Harriet Olson, this day. Sadly, I was only able to recreate the house and store, not the family.”
The dwarf waited until they made their way to where he stood at the back of the room, then he stuck his hand over the counter. Sebastian took it and the two men shook. “I’m Bramell. It’s good to meet another fan of old television shows from back home.”
“Ahh, that’s what you meant by Little House on the Prairie,” Shale said. “That’s why I didn’t get the reference. Must have been before my time.”
Sebastian raised one eyebrow, and Bramell’s grin widened. “It was before mine as well,” the dwarf said, “but that doesn’t mean I didn’t watch all the episodes at least twice.” He sighed. “Simpler times during that p
eriod. I think it was set in the late 1800s?”
“That’s right. 1870s.” Sebastian turned, slowly taking in the rest of the store. “Your memory of the place is pretty good. It’s like I’m standing inside the TV show.”
“Thanks.” Bramell reached for a round glass canister and removed the lid. Inside were various coloured sticks. “Have a sugary treat. On the house.”
Shale took a pink one and sucked on it. “Oh wow. Watermelon flavour!”
“Mine’s grape.” Ezref licked his lips and grinned.
“Sorry, friends.” Bramell replaced the lid on the container and returned it. “I didn’t catch your names.”
Sebastian indicated each of them in turn. “That’s Shale, he’s Ezref, and I’m Sebastian.”
Bramell’s head cocked and the corner of his mouth turned upwards. “Sebastian?”
“That’s right.”
“Ha!” The dwarf laughed and slapped the countertop, his eyes brightening. “Well, isn’t this an honour.”
“Honour?” Shale frowned.
“You’re Sebastian!” Bramell tapped his chest. “I can’t count how many times I tried to meet you in real life and never managed to do so. Now we finally meet. Inside a video game, no less.” He laughed again. “This is a huge moment for me.”
“I think you’ve got me confused with some other Sebastian.”
“Come on, now.” Bramell pursed his lips and shook his head. “You know better than that, and so do I.”
Sebastian raised one eyebrow.
“What’s he mean by that, Seb?” Ezref asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“Of course you are.” Bramell made a tsk sound. “Name lock. Multiple characters can’t have the same name. Once a player selects a name, it is locked.”
Shale laughed. “That’s the PC version.” She rolled her eyes at Sebastian. “How many times have we run into characters named Bodups, Thrambadar, and Horeb on our adventures so far, Seb? Sure, those names are popular because of the gaming legends who first played them, but still.” She shook her head. “Name lock doesn’t seem to apply in Blades VR.”