by Galen Wolf
“Did you get it?” she asked breathily.
I nodded and reached the Mirror of Revelation out from my inventory. I was about to hand it to her when she snatched it from my hand. She admired the silver frame and gazed deep into the quicksilver reflection. What she saw, I didn’t know, but I saw a slight frown that she instantly covered up. Then she gave me a hug and snapped her fingers.
A message came on my HUD: Boon of the Queen Awarded. +10 to All Stats for One Month.
That was nice. But I wanted more. I hesitated. She raised a sweet eyebrow. “Yes, Romeo?”
I extended my hands in a gesture of supplication. “Did your majesty ever consider an acting career? Only I thought that with…”
She cut me off. “Acting? I’d never thought of it, but…” She smiled. “Are you trying to cast me?”
I shrugged. “Just, we are putting on a scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It's by Shakespeare. He was a famous playwright.”
She gave a thin smile. “I’ve heard of him.”
“I didn’t mean to patronize your majesty…”
She waved me to continue.
“...The dwarfs and I are rehearsing shortly.”
“And you want to cast me as Titania?”
“Exactly!”
“I’ll do it,” she said. “And who, pray tell,” she said mockingly, “is Oberon, my king? One of the dwarfs?”
“Oh, no, your majesty. They’re only NPCs.”
“Then, you?”
I nodded modestly. “I have trodden the boards for many years. I like to think myself an accomplished thespian.”
“As you are.” She took my hand and stroked it with a coquettish smile. I must admit I nearly melted. “You'll do splendidly as my consort, I think, Romeo. When do you begin rehearsals?”
“This evening your majesty, if that would suit.”
“It would suit admirably. But I need to dash off first and attend to some godly business.”
I bowed low. “Of course.”
Later, Bottom, Quince, Flute and I waited on the stage for her. She was late. We were costumed up. I had given them their lines, and they had proved themselves fast learners. The empty theatre watched us. Bottom tapped his foot and grumbled. Quince told him to be quiet. Flute gazed around vacantly, then scratched his arse.
She appeared.
We bowed low, all of us, the NPCs and me. She was dressed in a dress of gold and silver lamé that extended to her diamond encrusted high heels. On her head was a tiara that sparkled and glittered in the stage lights. She waved modestly and came and gave me a kiss on both cheeks. On an afterthought, she leaned down and kissed each of the dwarf NPCs. Quince blushed, Flute gazed open mouthed, enthralled by her beauty and Bottom thoughtfully rubbed the cheek she’d kissed him on.
“Now to rehearsals!” She threw herself into the job. She’d learned her lines. I had improvised a little on the script, after all, even Shakespeare can be improved upon.
The night of the performance came. It was the most beautiful July evening, and because word had got out that the Queen of Summer was taking part, it was a full house. All of them were awarded the Quest: A Midsummer Night’s Extravaganza and sat patiently eating popcorn and dates in the rows in front of the stage.
I peered out from beneath the array of Light spells above the stage. The whole of Vinab was there. The Council was there in formal dress. I saw Parzifal and Astral Bob, Ahn and Ajora, the Wizard Lamron, the ranger Barcud and many others. Even non-Vinabians were there: Khuzud the Blacksmith, Rohan the antlered druid Guildmaster and, to my astonishment the druidess Birog in the back row holding the hand of a bare-chested Harald Runestorm.
I had given myself Robin Goodfellow’s line to introduce the scene. I strode onto the stage, my hand shielding my eyes as if I was gazing afar. The backdrop was of a luscious woodland. I began.
“I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:
There sleeps Titania sometime of the night,
Lulled in these flowers with dances and delight.”
She was wonderful. The play ended to rapturous applause. Some threw their chewed corn cobs onto the stage as an accolade in the place of roses, which would have been more normal and more fitting. Even so, I accepted the corn cobs as a genuine gesture of praise.
We formed a line and bowed, me holding the Queen’s dainty hand, the dwarfs forming the ends of the line. We bowed and bowed and the audience clapped and clapped.
I stood by the theatre door with the Queen and between us we said good night to all the audience. On leaving with Khuzud, Astral Bob said, “Nice XP, mate. Thanks.”
“Poker?” I called after him.
He waved back. “I’d love to. Dove me.”
I grinned. They were all gone. The Queen stroked my cheek. “Handsome Romeo, I just need to change then I’ll be off.”
She disappeared into the changing rooms. After five minutes, I wanted to see her one more time before she left so I went backstage. The dwarfs were pulling on their day clothes and taking off the greasepaint in the male changing room. The door to the ladies’ changing room was ajar. I went to knock, but I saw her. Her dress was unzipped and her back was to me. I was about to step away when I saw she was holding the Mirror of Revelation and staring into it. Over her shoulder I saw her reflection: an old and grey haired woman.
“I know you’re there, Romeo,” she said. She spun round holding her gold and silver dress to her chest so it would not fall. Her face was as pretty and young as it ever was, but her smile was sad. “I was young and beautiful once in the real world. And I still am here.”
I said, “This is the real world, your majesty. This is where we spend our lives and make our friends. The other place is merely where we fuel our bodies with food and sleep in order to return here more quickly.”
She said wistfully, “You might be right. This is where I feel I truly belong.”
She thrust the mirror to me. “You should look.”
I shook my head.
“As you wish. If you’ll leave me to finish changing. We shall meet again.”
When I went back she was gone, but she’d left the Mirror of Revelation on the dressing table. No doubt she'd come back for it later. I took it, but still didn’t want to look.
I went into the male changing rooms where the dwarfs had finished their ablutions and were back in their normal attire.
They seemed pleased - enthused by the successful performance. I was glad. They had become my friends, even though they were merely ghosts of pixels and code.
When I looked at the NPCs, I wondered who they were, really. Where did their individual identity come from? It seemed it had come from nowhere.
Turning, I took the mirror, holding it by its fine silver handle. Raising it to eye level, I gazed on my own reflection. There was the handsome face of Romeo el Mejor, the best bard in The Greenwood. And then Romeo’s face smiled at me. Be clear, it was not me that smiled. The reflection smiled, and I hadn’t done it. I stepped back, my heart beating, my hands damp with sweat. I peered deeper at my reflection, looking into my brown eyes. And I saw him.
There was someone in those eyes, playing a role, and it wasn’t me.
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