Selena

by V Guy

  “He’s coming,” said Darien, his eyes widening in anticipation. “She must know.”

  His foreshadowing was on point. Four Cheonian assassins appeared and surrounded the newcomers. The Coalition players formed a protective circle. The assassins advanced, dropping black spheres to the ground. Swords clashed and spells flew. Dark clouds expanded from the discarded globes to release the ported occupants—Valley wraiths.

  A conjured portal followed, dispatching archers to kill the outpost’s few defenders and engage the new players. The wraith’s paralyzing stench expanded. Whips flashed forward.

  Serena felt a sickening in her stomach, Darien was immobilized, and they watched as the whips’ tendrils spread and entombed their victims, drawing life and substance. The archers maintained defensive positions, the assassins stood aside to let the magic work, and everyone in the outpost was frozen.

  Smoke like an evaporating mist rose from the shrinking victims. The whips disengaged, the charred remains crumpled to the ground, and the mist dispersed. The wraiths faded, the archers exited through fresh portals, and the assassins teleported away. All became as it was, except for four players disappearing in death.

  The stench of decay dissipated, and Darien was freed from his paralysis. “I admit, I just wanted to see that; I’m glad it wasn’t me. Do you think you could crack open the tomb entrance?”

  “Why?”

  “Those doors are heavy for little people. Believe me, I know.”

  Serena pondered him a moment then made a motion with her fingers. The mausoleum door eased open in response. “What’s that like, having everything sucked out of you?”

  “Painful, invasive, and horrifying. Their nightmares should fade after a month or so.”

  Peace settled around them, and the outpost guards respawned. “We’ll need more shacks,” she said, looking around. “How many people does that leave?”

  Darien paused. “Around two hundred members avoided being imp’d, but most of them had already quit. The once-great Coalition is reduced to twenty-five members, but with the war basically over, we might soon be banned. How’s life at home?”

  She sighed. “I’m leaving after Malik is sold. I’ll linger to speak with Selena if she comes, but Dad is as disengaged as ever. It’s time for a new life and meeting new people; I’d also like to see you in person.”

  He smiled. “There’s much to…”

  The wind for his words was lost when a figure appeared from a tear in the air. Kilam emerged and Serena rose, power crackling at her fingertips. The outpost guards were either unconcerned or unaware of his presence.

  “I’m declaring this war finished,” said Kilam, noting her response and landing. “Unless you wish to continue, as you were once inclined. The only action remaining is to diminish you.”

  Serena stared at him and let her spells dissolve. “Is there some reason you didn’t make a simple pronouncement to call it over?”

  Kilam glanced at Darien then looked at her. “You’ve got to die.” A summoned dagger appeared in his hands, bulleted to her heart, then dissolved in a mist.

  “The poison is gentle,” said Kilam. “Shouldn’t be long.”

  “No victorious, gloating final speeches?” asked Darien, watching Serena lose vitality. “After three years you have nothing to say?”

  Kilam cocked his head. “Do you require it?”

  Serena dropped back into her seat, then fell over when her character’s life was consumed. A shadow rose from her form; took shape, texture, and color; then manifested as an old mage. He straightened, bowed to his king, then teleported away. Kilam waited a moment then followed.

  Her body disappeared, reformed, her eyes opened, and she rose. “I feel different. What happened?”

  “A Cheonian spy had possessed you. When you died, it departed.”

  Serena’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? I never felt anything.”

  He shrugged. “Everything you saw, he must have seen. Explains much.”

  “That happened three years ago.” She was indignant. “He’s been watching for three years?”

  “He was never truly surprised.” Darien glanced where the crack on the air had appeared. “Or maybe he was but was always prepared.”

  She trembled in anger. “All this time…”

  Darien made his crooked, imbalanced, imp smile. “He preserved you and left you room to grow. That’s more than the rest of us got.”

  Serena was inconsolable. “Unbelievable. I’m the reason for our failures.”

  The prostitute left her residence after Kilam’s departure, making a beeline for them. They saw her and met each other’s eyes in query.

  “What now?” said Serena, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “Is this some kind of joke?”

  He shrugged, equally confused.

  The prostitute stopped before them. “The war can continue.”

  Serena and Darien shared incredulous glances—this was atypical prostitute behavior, and the solicitation was far beyond expected.

  “What do you mean?” asked Serena, looking for the creator of this obvious prank.

  “Just what I said. How would you like to contest him? How would you like to overwhelm him?”

  Darien scowled. “Why do you care? He never bothered you. Who sent you?”

  “I sent me,” said the woman, her features sharpening. “I share your interest in defeating him.”

  Serena crossed her arms. “Why would a prostitute care? Did he stiff compensation?”

  The woman’s face reddened. “I am not simply a prostitute. When you falsely accused me of being one, I grabbed you in my claws, carried you, and threw you into a cavern. I can do worse now. My name is Pyson, and I am a dragon.”

  They recoiled as she transformed into the humanoid form Serena remembered. Her dragon eyes glowed with fire, power exuded from her frame, and heat radiated through her hands.

  Serena examined her with caution. “Why the wait? The long war is over. You’ve had plenty of time before now to state your peace.”

  “Everyone was watched,” replied Pyson. “And you were possessed. Now you are free. I have been continuously hunted since our last meeting, pursued when my mask slipped. He must be defeated.”

  Normal NPCs behaved along set lines of behaviors, personal aides and attendants had higher degrees of flexibility, as they were intended for wider degrees of interaction, but dragons were designed to be premier opponents who could outthink their attackers. Pyson was the most powerful dragon of them all, and she had been pressed to higher levels through Kilam’s actions. Merger with a shadow dragon further accentuated those skills. She behaved like a player character, far exceeding something system generated.

  Serena shook her head. “How could we possibly help? I saw him defeat dozens of you, and he crushed an entire alliance of people like me, except those players were using enhancements to make them considerably stronger. I’m not certain anything could make a difference.”

  “He regularly dispatches dragons to find me,” said Pyson. “Although they always fail, I don’t wish to hide forever. You sat here and obeyed the rules while he decimated your alliance; now you have discovered you were used. Surely that angers you?”

  “Yes,” said Serena, furrowing her brow. “But I know his capabilities.”

  “Did you suppose me lying when I said a joining would make us extraordinarily powerful?”

  “You would have attacked us afterward.”

  “And beaten you quickly and soundly. Would you like to win in a similar manner? Would you like to humiliate him?”

  Serena straightened and cocked her head. She pointed to the guards. “Why bother us? Just join with them.”

  Pyson advanced, her eyes focused on Serena. “They lack your potential. I need someone who can be better than me. Together, we would be better than him.”

  “You just said you no longer needed this game,” said Darien, leaning in and catching Serena’s forearm. “This would involve you more than ever. You’ve g
ot peace. You’ve still got a character.”

  “Shhh,” said Pyson, making a melodious song and placing a finger to her lips. Darien and every other character except Serena in the outpost fell into slumber.

  “This isn’t his decision,” soothed the dragon, closing in. “It’s yours. You once had many friends here who have now mostly quit or been banned, and your alliance is now in shambles. Who do you suppose was responsible?”

  Serena had always felt isolated, and Xist Nations had been her lifeline. Real life may have recently improved, but a huge sense of emptiness came after the Coalition’s demise. “How does this work?”

  “You must be first be stronger. Apply the Coalition boosts.”

  ***

  The joining was nothing like Serena imagined. Pyson had only grabbed her arms and chanted, but it felt like every bit of Serena had been touched. That grip steadily increased until Serena was displaced, forced from her avatar to arrive in her online waiting room. Attempts to reconnect to the game failed. Attempts to access World One were blocked. Serena was still logged in, but she was also locked out.

  68: Closing

  Days 1079-1126: Evaline, Salient, Paradise

  Malik’s time of disposition arrived on schedule. Soldiers garrisoned the ship during his incarceration and prevented entry into the bridge but left the storage holds free. The crew chose to observe the auction from Evelyn’s “woman cave” in hold three, with some of them choosing to sit by the edge of a shallow pool, others in hammocks, and a few of them reclining in the greenery along the edges.

  His presence in the bidding was well publicized, and the ship’s creatures were obligated to depart his presence. Lallis returned to the ship to lounge on the trail leading to the upper level entrance; Drelas was curled in Evelyn’s lap.

  A projection appeared above the small pool, displaying the event’s introduction.

  “Hard to believe this is finally happening,” said James. “Think he’ll keep his nation and let us talk to him?”

  “The war may be over,” replied Selena, pondering the matter. “But the director wanted him to retain the account. I expect so.”

  “Good. Who knows where he’ll be going?”

  Malik was the final piece of merchandise after an hour of auctions. A brief introduction was given, and the field of bidders was displayed. Five were anonymous, but the twenty-five knowns covered a wide range of industries and interests. Auction rules were repeated. The bidding commenced.

  Twenty thousand universals were the minimum bid, but a flurry of offers quickly eclipsed expectations. An offer of a half-million universals was reached after a steady cadence of twenty and fifty-thousand-universal raises. The bids continued to rise, and a million universals passed without hesitation, with the first bidders dropping out.

  Four bidders remained after fifty million. Two remained after three hundred million. The bidders were stubborn, and the top offer climbed to beyond a billion universals. At three billion five-hundred-million universals, an anonymous winner was announced.

  Evelyn was dumbfounded. “Serena won’t be robbing any more restaurants.”

  Violet’s eyes were wide. “That’s a pile of money. What must Marina Kay be thinking?”

  “Probably getting very, very drunk,” said Li, making a deep chuckle. He rose to his feet and assisted Selena to hers. “What now?”

  “I’m sure we’ll hear something,” said Evelyn. “Probably about additional restrictions until his delivery. One thing about it, we should now be in the clear.”

  James brushed dirt off his pants. “I’ve had enough of that black cloud. I wonder who got him?”

  ***

  Fael closed the connection and pondered the auction. “You can transfer the money back to their original accounts; I wasn’t about to spend that much, not even for Malik.”

  His assistant nodded and accessed his device. “Someone wanted the creature rather badly. You pushed the bidding farther than I thought you would or should have.”

  “Yes, someone did want it badly.” Fael thought back. “And she’ll be furious. Did you locate Martin Rose?”

  “He’s on Petra. One of the girls is there.”

  Fael smiled, pleasure filling him. “We can still watch.”

  ***

  A fresh departure prohibition was issued to Pathfinder’s crew. Two weeks later, the all-clear sounded, the soldiers opened the bridge, they departed the ship, and the surrounding ships launched. An odd sense of finality filled the vessel. Li, James, Selena, and Evelyn met on the bridge to ponder the inactive stations.

  Li gazed beyond the ports. “I’m weary of Evaline; let’s leave.”

  “Me, too,” said Evelyn. “We’ll need an extensive preflight—the ship hasn’t been in space for more than a month, and it should be thoroughly checked.”

  Pathfinder officially left Evaline for the first time in over a year, easing into space and taking conventional travel to the channel entry. Selena and Li departed at Taipei to catch a liner toward Bedele and eventually Petra, Violet disembarked at Gemini to go home, while James entered the passenger exchange at Tania.

  Evelyn had mixed feelings after his exit. Drelas, perched on her shoulders, made a short query.

  “I don’t know.” She entered the main passage, and her countenance fell upon seeing Furaha. “Are you leaving, too?”

  The woman noted her distress, smiled warmly, and embraced her. “You were well loved by Malik. We’ll stay close as long as you’ll have us.”

  Drelas made a series of chirps and barks, causing Evelyn to exhale a relieved chuckle and nod. “Excellent idea. Furaha, take us to Tarabach—I have friends to visit. After that, we find a way to disappear and go to Salient.”

  ***

  The picnic near Salient’s settlement was a blessing. Good food was available, fresh air was plentiful, clean water was in abundance, and a genuine breeze blew her hair. The world was beautiful. This break could only come after work however, and the settlement had been well stocked with new materials, fresh supplies, and enriched fuel after Pathfinder’s arrival.

  Jum, Lallis, and Drelas had made immediate exits upon landing, and Gala and Pietre were quick to depart and see their old friends. Their boys were welcomed, spending time with the people they now called family and the ones they had known throughout the years.

  Evelyn sat on a wooden bench beside the river, pondering the many times she had reclined in landscapes that were technically false. Amal and Leala found her and sat to either side.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Amal, gazing at the fast-moving water. “Why aren’t you with the others?”

  Evelyn studied the stream and frowned. “I’m an outsider. What have I endured? I lost a family because they were garbage. These people lost families because of war, disease, and treachery, then made new ones together and lost them, too. They’re survivors, I’m…”

  She paused to ponder her existence. “I’m a woman without a family.”

  Leala gently touched her arm. “You’re our family. We should leave—we’re needed.”

  ***

  Malik’s time during confinement on Evaline had been fulfilling. Drelas came to him every day to offer instruction in the ways of teleportation, assist with his flying technique, or simply hide under his wings concealed from the prying eyes of surveillance. Lallis either arrived via Jum’s assist or through Malik’s efforts, and ran cloaked with him in the yard or cuddled by his side. When all was quiet, Jum gave additional pointers on traveling through and manipulating the breach.

  When his companions were absent, Malik practiced his substrate techniques and until the war in Xist ended, had something to keep him busy. Even with the war done, there were new technologies to consider and explore, and the business of nation management returned to the forefront.

  Long goodbyes were in order when a Fifth Fleet ground transport arrived, the creatures of his ship lingering. With his chain released, he was escorted to the armed Fleet vessel and situated in a cargo hold. Surve
illance and weapons were plentiful.

  “It’s a little overkill,” said the responsible captain, noting the preparations during a visit.

  Malik examined the weaponry. “What’s the fine if you kill me?”

  The man smiled. “Those are for potential intruders. You obliterated the record for a GMI, claiming an exorbitant value for a creature that wasn’t supposed to have any.”

  “That’s got to be perplexing.”

  “It is.” The captain gave him a long look. “We’ve got you for nearly two weeks. Let us know if you require anything.”

  ***

  The trip to meet the Third Fleet at Harris felt long to Malik. Contained within the hold, he was always alone, communications were jammed, and the ship ran a breach inhibitor most of the time, meaning his ability to connect to Xist was sorely tasked. Few opportunities were offered to manage Cheonia, never mind investigating odd events claiming his people near Nalara outpost.

  A brief view of Harris was available during his transfer to a Third Fleet shuttle. After a short ascent and docking, he was restricted to another ship’s hold and secured by shackles to the bulkheads. This new isolation was interrupted by a flag officer and an armed escort.

  “Redina,” said Malik, recognizing the ranking visitor. “You seem well. Any nightmares?”

  The man paused then dismissed his protectors. “Once, but it wasn’t as intense.”

  Malik lifted a bound foreleg. “Is there a reason for this? I stayed obediently in a storage hold during the long journey from Evaline. Did you think I was planning an escape?”

  “The last time you were on a Third Fleet vessel, you tore through the crew, killing everyone.”

  “To get to you. I thought we had a truce. If it still holds, then I’m no danger.”

  Redina was hesitant. “Memories die hard.”