Keymaster

by Sergey Zaytsev

  A new, and quite timely, thought made me think hard. During my stay at the “Wondergarden” I heard, more than once, that there were countless worlds in “Universe ICS”. With that in man, the number of races and people inhabiting this global game world was incalculable... They all had to go visit the sandboxes that should also be abundant and different. What’s more, in my past life I was a human, and so I became human in the game. But the location curator, Mr. Esco, looked like a purebred elf. Why couldn’t then be real elves in this universe, or even creatures similar to them? Halflings, as well. Could the Centaur be a player, too!?

  I could hardly imagine what being in a Centaur’s body would feel like. It’s one thing to change your race in a regular game, remotely controlling the avatar on the screen, but quite another to physically modify yourself, both in flesh and psyche. After all, a human brain in any body would remain human, and one would need to have some serious reasons to consciously make such changes to themselves. Living in such a body is more than just looking at a picture on the screen. I remember reading somewhere that after surgical leg bone lengthening, people have to learn to walk again, and that’s just a slightly shifted center of gravity. What if your entire body is completely new? You would have to learn everything from scratch, like a baby. A particularly susceptible person could go nuts. So, the most logical conclusion was that I was looking at the representatives of a different race.

  After all these reflections, I had a different view of my new companions. I even felt shock and excitement. Fairies probably didn’t exist in Halfling sandboxes, hence the amazement. Humans would have reacted differently, with jokes, indecent remarks and ambiguous sentences. These guys turned numb, looking at Tinnie like she was some kind of a God, forgetting even about the noisy, gurgling pot, which threatened to boil over without supervision.

  It was time to take matters into my own hands.

  I mentally recalled the Fairy. Ending her search, Tinnie came back to me and flopped onto my shoulder with a displeased expression on her attractive face. One glance at her naked body was enough to make me shiver. Sure, it was warmer in the cave than it was outside, but the temperature was still barely high enough for the steam to cease escaping from my mouth with every sigh.

  Their gazes followed Tinnie like a magnet.

  I had to cough.

  No effect.

  Fury then snarled. It worked! All three “unfroze” in an instant, huddled around the fire and began to lively discuss something. Chef stirred the brew as they talked, and Guide tossed a few coals from the bag into the fire.

  Strange…

  I heard them speaking quite distinctly, but, for some reason, I could not shape their words into anything coherent — not a single word. Something in me resisted, like in a faulty mechanism; all the gears seemed to be spinning, but in vain. Was the system failure worse than I had thought? I tried to get rid of the idea that I was the problem and not the system. The interplanetary portal, which had transferred me to this location, had also burned something in my brain. Hell no! Stop worrying! I should think positively and be patient. Everything will be explained. And everything will eventually get better...

  The discussion lasted no more than a minute, after which Mousy suddenly started gathering her things. She put on the fur boots that had dried by the campfire, then went back to the bed, fumbled through the backpack and pulled out some kind of openwork metal device the size of a pencil case. With a well-trained movement, she hooked the device to the metal straps, which I noticed only now, sewn onto her jacket’s left shoulder. A flashlight? She then threw the backpack over her right shoulder, gave me a friendly smile and a wave, inviting me to follow. Without looking back, she stepped into the hole that led deeper into the mountain.

  Damn it. I really thought that Fury and I would get a chance to eat something…

  Seeing my hesitation, the other Halflings babbled something, pointing their fingers at the hole. Okay. Thanks to not forcing me outdoors, at least. What are you going to show me? Maybe your base is somewhere further ahead. Maybe there are people like me there? An interesting thought... And a positive one too.

  Grabbing my bag, I sent Fury ahead and followed.

  Chapter 3

  As soon as the light from the campfire, unable to reach this far, began to fade, the Hobbit woman touched the “pencil case”, which then lit up with a yellowish glow that cut through the thick darkness, showing us where to safely set our feet. The flashlight probably worked using the same Crystals from the sandbox. I remembered Tinnie’s abilities. The very first, and the simplest one, that she received immediately after taming was Firefly, which proved to be excellent for dungeons. She would shine brighter than any torch, without occupying your hands or bag space. Not only that, but she could move on her own too — the perfect flashlight, right? And certainly an excellent alternative to this nonsense that was on my new guide’s shoulder. By the way, in order to improve your pets' abilities, they needed to be used as often as possible, so — let’s get leveling!

  “Tinnie, time to perform,” I whispered to the Fairy.

  Tinnie flew off my shoulder, flew a couple of feet ahead of us and flopped onto the Direcat’s neck with a distressed squeak. At least Fury didn’t mind her being there. Good. It was my fault anyway; I shouldn’t show off in front of strangers at my girls’ expense. Ok, it won’t happen again. The interface was a ruin — so what? I didn’t need it to assess the condition of my pets and figure out what they needed. The longer we coexist together, the stronger the empathic connection between us would grow. Because of the damned cold, all of Tinnie’s energy went to maintaining the temperature of her small body, which is why she didn’t have enough strength to activate Firefly. My furry friend, who was running ahead of me as well, was quite hungry and no longer moved as swiftly as before. Alas, my backpack contained neither Soul Crystals needed to recharge Tinnie, nor meat for Fury. I hope that there’s suitable game for Fury in these caves. We need to hunt. Now.

  Despite her short stature, Mousy kept a good pace, confidently moving toward the destination known only to her. Without her, I would have immediately lost my way as there was a network of numerous passages beneath the rock, intersecting and twisting in the most bizarre ways. The paths would often branch. It was likely that we were walking through a series of old coal mines. I wouldn’t be surprised if we found dwarves living here and mining the tunnels.

  Twenty minutes later, the underground passageways around us began to change. Pale moss sprouted through chipped, gray walls; the air got noticeably warmer; was moist and carried a strong mushroom smell.

  After the next turn, the darkness ahead vanished into a soft, ghostly radiance, and our group approached a small underground lake. Suspiciously large shadows moved within its dark depths, disturbing the trash floating on the surface. The lake smelled like a moldy cellar. My desire to pass by it as quickly as possible didn’t coincide with that of my guide. The edges of the reservoir, dotted with humus, were overgrown with mushrooms; brown hats and pale yellow stems stretching out toward the water, reminiscent of Glowcaps. Signaling us to wait, the Hobbit began cutting off the caps, selectively choosing one or two samples from each “bush”. To my untrained eyes, they all looked the same. Wincing from the heavy, thick smell that got into my throat, I pulled out my dagger and set out to join the harvest. I didn’t want to just stand there, twiddling my thumbs. Mousy waved her hands in protest, stopping me dead in my tracks. As I thought: cutting the fungi required a special approach and an appropriate profession.

  The language barrier was becoming a serious hindrance. While she was busy with the mushrooms, I carefully examined the cave once again. Treading softly, the Direcat approached the edge of the pond, sniffed the water and snorted in disgust. She was thirsty, but didn’t dare to drink that muck. I had no time to get a flask of water. Push comes to shove; I’ll treat Fury with a couple of sips of my Health Tincture. For now, it’d be wiser to save it.

  I squatted down, fumbled through
my backpack, and attached the flask with the Tincture onto my belt. Better to have it at hand than stored. I had nothing more interesting in it, except for a pouch of tobacco and “Silent Girlfriend”. I wasn’t going to touch either yet. Before experimenting with the magic pipe, I needed to find out the reason behind this interface failure. Who knew where such an experiment could lead otherwise.

  Thinking about the twists of fate, I mechanically felt the backpack’s outer pockets, which I hadn’t inspected in the Replicator. Lo and behold, there was a lighter in one of them. A smooth, silver cylinder with a hole for a light at one end and a screw plug slot, where the Crystal was inserted so that the device would work, at the other. It was the same lighter as the one Grant had, which Gramps later stole from him, taking it from my mentor’s dead body.

  The memory tore my heart apart. The lighter sunk to the bottom of the river into which I had fallen together with both my victim and would-be murderer who happened to be the same person. It was a gift from the clan. Wait... Yes! It would serve as fuel for Tinnie! I couldn’t watch her suffer any longer.

  Fury hissed and turned around, her predatory eyes shining in the gloom, sharing her anxieties with me. Convinced that she managed to attract the wanted attention, she stared somewhere into the dark once again, not at water or the creatures dwelling in its depths, but at something else. I glanced at the Hobbit, who was cutting her precious mushrooms as if nothing had happened and there was no danger. Perhaps extreme suspicion played a joke on the Direcat — one could imagine a lot of things in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Mousy’s first time here. She probably knew when to sound the alarm.

  Despite my gut feeling, I still trusted our guide. Looking at the darkness that was looming over the pond, I unscrewed the lighter’s lid and shook out a soс[1] — a misty gray hexagon the size of my finger. The Fairy didn’t wait for me to call her. Landing onto the Crystal like a buzzing dragonfly, she clung to its edges with her tiny palms and immediately activated it. Damn, that was beautiful! For a moment it looked like there was a sun the size of a pearl glowing in my Fairy’s hands! The soc then melted away and the Fairy shone as bright as a Christmas tree. Tinnie’s eyes radiated happiness, and a smile stretched all the way to her cute ears.

  However, something worried me, and it wasn’t her contented face.

  It turned out that the reservoir, an oval of about 30-40 feet in diameter, was much larger than it had seemed. Tinnie’s radiance pierced the darkness, revealing the moss covered walls on the opposite side. The light failed to penetrate only a few dark niches. In one of them lurked a silhouette, emitting a certain air of threat...

  Attracted by the illumination behind her, Mousy turned around and gasped in amazement, forgetting about the dagger in her hand and the mushrooms. Obeying a mental jolt, the Fairy flew, rising higher toward the chipped arch. She, too, didn’t like the things stirring underwater...

  The light illuminated the niche, forcing the darkness to retreat, and exposing a crouched and hunched humanoid figure. The stranger looked up. Narrow, orange eyes flared dangerously. Penetrating further, the light revealed a tiger like muzzle, as well as a torso and arms covered in thick hair with a bizarre pattern of gray and blue stripes. Damn, it has four hands! Realizing that it was discovered, the creature instantly straightened up and dashed off. Its body literally shot forward and up after a short run and soared over the lake. Blades snatched mid-flight flashed in the grasp of the clawed hands; a low, throaty growl broke the silence.

  A Rakshasa, a thought flashed through my mind.

  Tinnie darted sideways, moving away from the enemy.

  I attacked it without hesitation. Blue and fiery clots broke out from my open palms, flashing and rushing toward the rapidly approaching enemy. Windspear, which was supposed to stun the thing, only pierced its shaggy chest and showered us with blue sparks that had no visible effect. Flamespear bounced off from the enemy’s chest at an oblique angle, as if from a mirror, and went into the water, causing it to boil upon impact. Due to system failure, I couldn’t see the enemy’s level, but I knew that it was too powerful for me. It was too fast. I couldn’t run away from it. Still, I drew my sword. What else was I to do? Or, rather, I tried to draw it, but my fingers twitched due to a sudden spasm and I only managed to scratch the hilt. Almost immediately my arm went numb up to my elbows. It felt as if hundreds of cold needles pierced my flesh. What the hell? I’ve never felt anything like this after using magic!

  Though, I’ve never fought an opponent like this one.

  The next moment, the Rakshasa landed onto our side of the cave, shook its shaggy head with a formidable growl — the stun had partly affected it — and rushed to attack, choosing me as its primary goal. Knowing full well that I couldn’t fend off all of its four blades, not without some experience at least, I got ready to make a sharp jump to the side. But Fury went ahead. The Rakshasa hadn’t been paying attention to my little beast, mistakenly considering her an unworthy opponent. The Direcat made him pay for its ignorance. Her tail, arched like a scorpion’s stinger, vindictively struck the hairy beast. Her tail’s sharp tip jumped out of the fur, flashed with the speed of a bullet and...

  The Rakshasa let out a cry that was nowhere near as powerful or intimidating as its previous roar and tried to turn around, but it tripped over its own paws and fell to its knees. The Direcat’s poison was very effective, but short-lived. However, this pause would be more than enough for my hands to unfreeze. “Flame” appeared in my right hand, and I made a wide swing, intending to slash the enemy’s throat.

  The Rakshasa overcame the paralysis and, wheezing, jumped up again, raising the curved blades...

  Chapter 4

  A whistle followed by a hit. Something slammed the tigroid’s skull, hurling it onto all fours. Or all sixes? I mean, it did have six limbs. I turned around to face the Hobbit that, shortly and sharply, spun the sling once again. A whistle followed by a hit. It sounded like a stick smacking a sack of potatoes. Another hit to the skull. I flinched. Damn, that must hurt. The Rakshasa’s landed into the mushrooms face first, scattering them about, and froze in place. I stepped closer, tightly holding the Uniq, but the Hobbit saved me the need to finish it. Having stopped me with a warning cry, she jumped onto the Rakshasa’s back and began to work with the rope that she had fished out of her bag. She tied all four of its arms at the elbows, and then pulled the heels toward them. The whole operation took no more than ten seconds, indicating either practice, or a racial bonus to agility.

  Jumping off the unconscious prisoner’s shaggy back, Mousy shouted something, all the while looking me in the eyes. Realizing that I didn’t understand a damn thing, she grunted in distress. Then, using gestures, she made it clear that I should look after the furry thing.

  She turned away. Her flashlight’s fading light, as well as her footsteps, was quickly consumed by the darkness. I swore softly, holding back my annoyance, and turned my gaze to the Rakshasa that still had its muzzle stuck in the mushrooms. The ceasing adrenaline rush was making my hands tremble. I returned the sword to its place and carefully squatted two steps away from our victim. I had no intention of getting closer. Damn... We barely avoided certain death… I can still feel it lingering in the air… My blood was stirring uncomfortably. I was confused and… Why lie to myself? I was scared after moving to another world; the conditions had changed, my interface was buggy and someone tried to kill me twice since I got here. It was not surprising that I wasn’t feeling at ease and that I expected it to only get worse.

  “Back, Fury. To me.”

  The Direcat sniffed the captive and reluctantly walked away, keeping a “menacing” look on him. No matter how much my little fluffy gets ruffled, she doesn’t have the slightest chance in direct combat with such an opponent. Her “childish” combat ability, “Poisonous Sting”, is a great skill, considering that it completely ignores any level of defense. However, the higher the enemy’s level, the less effect the poison causes. And its cooldown lasts for an hour.
The Direcat was now unarmed, and her claws and fangs were out of the game. Were it not for the exceptionally timely slingshot hit, the Rakshasa would have made a quick recovery and quickly finished both of us off.

  Generally, the state of my pets worried me. They were too weak for this location. It was okay with Tinnie as she was already a level 6 “adult pet” and her abilities and stats were leveling normally, but the Direcat was tamed when it was just a “cub”. For it to get the “adult” status, she needed to first fill the “childhood” bar, which had been stuck at 10% since the sandbox. The Direcat was a strong pet; there was no doubt about it. It had quite the potential, but this damn “childhood” would keep it stuck at level one. Ok, a task for my future self — level up Fury and try not to get her killed. While I had no idea how pet resurrection worked here, I had to try to keep their saves safe as well as my own.

  “Tinnie, come here.”

  The Fairy flew closer. Hovering over the Rakshasa, she illuminated the scene in smallest detail. One could call this tigroid by any other name, but why bother inventing a new term if there was a ready-made label from the past? The game devs decided that this would look like a tiger-humanoid with four arms, and the image stuck. In fact, a Rakshasa is a more complicated concept that this. In Hinduism, Rakshasa are demons, which personify everything dark that brings suffering, injustice and evil into the human world. They take on the appearance of various monsters and animals, and also love to possess people in order to torment them and enjoy the sensations of their flesh. If this tigroid was that kind of a Rakshasa like hell we would have dealt with it so easily.