by Anthea Sharp
She slid into the chair, pulled on the gloves, and then settled the helmet on her head.
“Our competitors are ready.” The announcer’s voice sounded slightly muffled from inside Spark’s system.
He’d be muted in-game once play began, though he’d be talking pretty much the whole time to the watching crowd, giving a play-by-play along with his sarcastic opinions. He’d been one of the early streamie stars and had used his fame to form an entertainment empire. Whether he’d rather still be a gamer was a moot point. Everybody aged out, eventually.
“And the countdown begins… NOW,” he said.
Spark breathed through the spike of adrenaline pulsing through her. Game time.
The visor projected a mysterious forest across her vision: tall trees dusted with silver and starry white blossoms glowing from the shadowy underbrush. Lush fantasy-landscape music surrounded her. It was peaceful—but she knew that wasn’t going to last.
“Welcome, adventurer,” the voice-over narration began. “Today you will enter the Forest of Fey to test yourself against the fearsome creatures who dwell therein. Do you have what it takes to become the Champion of the Realm? Choose your character carefully, for there can be only one winner!”
The forest faded, replaced by a character creation interface.
Spark scanned the options, aware she couldn’t linger too long. Whoever beat the forest first, won—but the game had already warned it was crucial to make the right decision.
Her first instinct was to grab an avatar with max damage-doing capabilities. But DPS wasn’t everything—those characters were usually pretty vulnerable. She had to balance armor/health points, and the possibility of an off-heal, against lethal output.
Three choices scrolled across her vision. Biting the inside of her cheek, she read the short descriptions under each one.
Spellweaver. Too squishy, from the look of the armor stats. Cloth wasn’t good at stopping a deadly blade. And no healing capabilities. Though maybe the game would provide a potion or two, once she started play.
Hunter. Maybe. She hesitated. Better armor, but the melee option was limited to a single small dagger. No good, once her foes got inside her arrow-shooting range.
Mercenary. Okay, that was more like it. A character built to take some smashing, mostly with close fighting capabilities, but the throwing knives were a nice touch. No healing or magical abilities—but the best of the options in her option.
Dimly, like the sound of distant waves, she heard the audience cheering. Had Jae-jin gotten in-game ahead of her?
Pulse racing, she selected the Mercenary. She’d have to learn on the fly.
Her golden-armored character appeared, standing in a small clearing surrounded by dark trees. A fern-edged path led into the shadows.
Quickly, she checked the commands, running through the small hand gestures that controlled her character. Thumb to index finger unsheathed the massive two-handed broadsword strapped on her back and snapped the Mercenary into battle stance. Holding down her middle finger brought up a small target, vision-directed. She looked at the trunk of the nearest tree and flicked her finger up. Thunk. One of her throwing knives vibrated from the bark, dead center.
“You have entered the Forest of Fey,” the deep-voiced narration said. “Your quest is to reach the center clearing and recover the Queen’s Chalice.”
A quick cutscene showed a bejeweled silver cup placed on a marble altar. Two monsters guarded it—one a wyvern-like creature with scaly wings and two heads, the other a red-eyed wolf with glowing teeth.
Great. She’d have to defend from simultaneous air and ground attacks. And of course there would be other battles along the way—plus a variety of traps to look out for.
Still, the whole encounter was designed to be over in about thirty minutes. Long enough to run plenty of advertising, without the audience getting too bored and downvoting the contest.
“You have been given a Vial of Restoration and a Vial of Flame to aid you,” the voice continued. “Use them well, for once consumed, they are gone forever. And now, adventurer, best be on your way. May the Queen’s blessing travel with you.”
Her character was momentarily surrounded by a silver glow. A quick stat check showed that she’d been given a stamina buff, upping her health points for thirty minutes. So, her guess about the length of play time was right. She’d better get to the final fight before the buff wore off.
She checked the interface, finding two small icons representing her vials and a small map in the corner of her view. Her character was represented by a glowing orange dot at the southern edge of the forest, and at the center was a cup icon.
A few trails snaked through the woods. The one leading from her clearing went off to the northwest for some distance before intersecting with one headed east. From that path, a spur went straight up to the clearing, while the main trail wound around and entered it from the opposite direction.
Staying on the roads was always the safest choice. But this was also a timed challenge.
The route would be a lot shorter if she cut directly through the forest, but she’d lose time in fighting the creatures that would doubtless be roaming the woods. Or she could do the expected and stick to the path, trying to make quick work of the traps and mobs lying in wait.
Which way to go?
Another cheer washed against the edges of her concentration. Clearly Jae-jin was already engaging in battle. Surely he couldn’t be that far ahead of her—which meant the first encounter wasn’t too far up the trail.
Spark strode to the edge of the clearing and glanced down the path. For a moment she wavered—but she hadn’t made it this far by playing it safe.
She pointed her character due north, right for the middle of the forest. With a quick prayer for luck, and a tip of her thumb, she strode into the underbrush.
For the first few paces, everything was calm and quiet. Too quiet.
Sunlight flickered through the tall trees, dappling the thick-leaved shrubs with light. The graphics were prime. She hoped the viewers were enjoying the top-quality visuals, because she couldn’t afford to get distracted by admiring the immersive detailing on the purple-veined flower petals.
Something rustled overhead.
She dodged to the side, sword raised. An evil-looking troll dropped from above, daggers slicing the air where she’d just been. It landed, red eyes glowing from its dark green face, sharp tusks bared.
“Intruder,” it growled. “Die now.”
“Not in my plans,” she said, going on the offensive.
Her broadsword attack swiped across the troll’s chest. It let out a cry and fell back, but unfortunately the blow wasn’t fatal. Black blood trickled sluggishly from the wound.
Without warning, it charged forward. She barely got her sword up in time to block the double-bladed attack. The troll whirled, too fast, and managed to land a stab to her shoulder.
Pain spiked through the sim system, along with a flash of warning yellow around her character, and she winced. Time to end this fight.
She pulled her blade back, then ran it point-first through the troll’s midsection. It let out a gargle and slumped over. The enemy health meter in the corner of her vision plummeted into the yellow, then red, then went black.
Dimly, she heard the crowd cheering. She lifted one golden-gauntleted fist in acknowledgement, then sent her character into a run. Every second counted.
Instead of heading in a straight line, she zigzagged through the trees. Her peripheral vision caught a faint greenish glow off to her left, smack in the middle of the direct route up to the Queen’s Chalice.
One trap avoided. She hoped.
Before she could get complacent, though, a vine snaked out from the underbrush and twisted around her ankle. She caught her balance and slashed at it, but even as it parted, a second vine fastened around her leg.
“I don’t think so,” she muttered.
Holding her sword blade parallel to her body, she spun in a ci
rcle. Bits of vegetation went flying as more sucker-like vines tried—and failed—to grab her.
She wasn’t in-game to prune plants, though, and clearly the point was to immobilize her in place. Which meant she needed to move. Immediately.
Hacking at the last few tendrils, she quickly backed out of range. Only to step on a large white mushroom that had popped up underfoot.
Crap!
Holding her breath, she danced and dodged, trying to get away from the still-seeking vines without stepping on another fungus. The one she’d trodden on was turning bright red and swelling up. An explosion of some kind was coming: sleeping spores, or thorn damage, or a nasty mob spawn.
She had to be gone by the time it exploded, and the only clear path led back the way she’d come. Retreat wasn’t an option, though. She had an uneasy feeling that Jae-jin was getting close to the chalice, and she’d learned to trust her gut about gaming. Not to mention that the increased volume outside her sim helmet was a serious sign that things were heating up.
Okay then. Forward, as fast as she could go, and hope this wasn’t a Leeroy Jenkins situation.
Making sure her Vial of Restoration was at the ready, she sent her character hurtling forward.
Pop! Pop!
Mushrooms sprouted underfoot. She dashed over them recklessly. Behind her, the first fungus exploded in a shrieking, fleshy shower of red. Oh, not good.
She swung the viewpoint angle around in a one-eighty to see a scarlet demon clamber out of the mushroom carcass. It lifted its scaly hands and out shot a torrent of fire, like a flamethrower targeted on her character.
Ducking, she sent her Mercenary into a forward roll, crushing more fungi along the way.
Good thing she hadn’t cued up the Vial of Flame—chances were these monsters were immune to fire damage. But she had to get out of there, stat.
Despite her dodge, a bit of flame had tagged her and was slowly eating a hole in her armor. Already, her health points were dipping. Damage-over-time spells were the worst, especially if they stacked up. Which she was betting these would.
Another mushroom exploded, and she dashed behind a nearby tree. This time, she avoided the fire blast entirely. If she could keep line-of-sighting the explosions, she just might make it out alive.
A third demon popped up, and this time she wasn’t so lucky, catching the edge of the area-of-effect spell. As she’d feared, the slow-burn damage multiplied. Not enough to take her down. Not yet, anyway. Two or three more hits, though…
At least the mushrooms had stopped spawning underfoot.
Boom! Fire engulfed her character. Her armor turned golden-red, and she watched in dismay as her health plummeted to the halfway point. Keeping her fingers mashed together, she sent her character staggering forward.
Tick. Her Mercenary fell to one-quarter health.
Keeping the camera pointed behind her, she managed to yank her character behind a thick shrub as two more flame demons emerged, deadly fire spraying from their fingertips.
Almost out of range.
Almost dead, too.
Just a little farther.
Her finger hovered, ready to pop the Vial of Restoration. Adrenaline shimmered through her, every sense poised.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Red light flashed alarmingly around her character, signaling imminent death.
Now.
She consumed the vial, turning her corpse lurch into a sudden sprint forward as the Mercenary’s health regenerated to full.
Spark let out her breath, practically oblivious to the deafening cheers. That had been close. A quick camera pivot showed she was out of range of the deadly demon-spawning mushrooms.
Ahead, the trees thinned, a soft silvery glow filling the air. She slowed her headlong rush, senses on alert. Either another trap awaited or she’d made it to the clearing holding the Queen’s Chalice. Or both.
Probably both.
Two-handed sword at the ready, she stepped forward. Silvery mist softened the trees, and a faint chiming music filtered through the air.
She darted a glance at the map readout to make sure she hadn’t wandered too far east or west. Nope. According to the mini-map, she’d reached the edge of the clearing where she’d find the Queen’s Chalice.
It was hard to see much of anything, though. Was that shape the altar, or one of the creatures guarding it?
A red-eyed wolf leaped at her, answering that question. At least she was in the right place. She swung at the wolf, but it twisted out of range.
Another shape coalesced out of the mist overhead, two-headed and borne on scaly wings, but Spark had been waiting. Narrowing her eyes, she managed to get two daggers off before the wyvern closed with a screech.
Of course the wolf attacked at the same time, but she was ready. Dodging the wyvern’s raking claws, she switched targeting to the wolf and triggered her Vial of Flame.
The creature howled as it fur caught fire, but it still leaped for her throat. She swiped at it and it fell back, flames flickering over its body.
The wyvern screeched and plummeted toward her, deadly claws outstretched. Spark pulled back her blade, judging the creature’s trajectory. With all her strength, she sliced across its neck. With a satisfying squishy plop, one of the heads landed on the moss-covered ground.
Cheers washed over her, but the fight wasn’t done—not by a long shot. The wolf attacked, only slightly slowed by fire damage, and managed to land a bite to her leg. Her Mercenary stumbled, health points dipping.
She danced away, slinging another throwing dagger at the wyvern as it lurched overhead. Both creatures were dying—but too slowly. Time to take one of them out, and hope the other one didn’t kill her in the meantime.
Targeting the wolf again, she charged forward. It slid away from her first strike, but she let the momentum of her swing pull her around and managed to injure it on the backstroke.
Yellow light flashed around the Mercenary. The wyvern had struck her head, tearing off her helmet. Oh, that wasn’t good.
The wolf growled and leaped. At the last moment, Spark dodged aside and stabbed it through the neck. Weakened by the Vial of Flame, the creature collapsed, its health snuffing out.
One down. One to go.
Spark dropped to her knees, which put her in dagger-throw distance from the wyvern. She only had one blade left. Had to make this one count.
With a steadying breath, she targeted the creature’s remaining head, focusing on the eye. It didn’t cooperate, thrashing around like, well, like a monster with one head cut off.
Then that moment of perfect clarity, the millisecond pause. She released her last blade.
It struck the wyvern in its shiny yellow eye—a critical blow. Screeching, the creature plummeted to the ground, its health bar black.
She’d done it. But had she beat Jae-jin?
Spark strode up to the white marble altar. The Queen’s Chalice stood in the center of the polished surface, gleaming a brilliant silver. She reached to take it—
“Not so fast, would-be Champion,” a clear voice rang out. “No one takes my chalice without a fight.”
Ah, dammit. She should have known there’d be one final boss.
Spark pivoted, to see an elf woman clad in silver armor that shone as brightly as the chalice. On the queen’s head was a tiara of white gems, and she carried two blades—one a wickedly thin rapier, the other a sharp-edged sword.
“You have come this far,” the queen said. “A pity you must meet your doom.”
She waved one delicate hand, and the health buff Spark had carried since the beginning of the game disappeared. Her health dipped, and she swallowed. All her advantages gone—her throwing daggers, her vials, her extra stamina.
“I don’t suppose we can talk this out?” she asked, bringing her sword up.
The elf queen let out a lilting laugh. “I do not bargain with mortals. Besides, you killed my beloved pets.”
“You can get new ones.” Spark roll
ed onto the balls of her feet. The queen’s attack was imminent—she could feel it.
Before her enemy could spring at her, Spark dove forward. She braced the broadsword’s pommel against her chest and threw all her weight behind it, driving it into the queen’s chest.
Yellow flashed as the queen’s blades struck at the Mercenary’s sides, but it was too late for the elf queen. Even as Spark’s health dipped, the queen’s went faster.
Even dying, she was gracefully beautiful. Her body slumped, silvery-white hair fanning out over the flower-starred moss. A single drop of ruby red blood formed where Spark had struck her.
Not sure why, Spark whirled, grabbed the chalice off the altar, and caught the drop of blood as it fell.
A fanfare of trumpets blasted as the inside of the cup glowed, like she’d caught a supernova in its depths. She blinked, and when her vision cleared she saw the elf queen, now dressed in a gauzy green gown, standing before her.
Two hunky elf dudes flanked the queen, one with yellow eyes, the other with hair the color of a wolf’s pelt.
“Oh, well done my brave warrior,” the queen said. “Not only have you gained the chalice, you have broken the spell laid upon my consorts. I now declare you the Champion of the Forest of Fey!”
More light and music, and then the scene faded. The game was done.
Spark sat for a moment, heartbeat racing. Sweat itched the back of her neck.
Had she won?
She squashed the impulse to remain inside her helmet. Win or lose, it was over, and she couldn’t delay the comfort of not knowing any longer. And no matter what, she’d remember to smile. To be gracious, and not arrogant. Or desolated.
With a deep breath, she pulled off her sim helmet.
Deafening cheers greeted her. Fire kindling in her chest, she glanced up at the huge screens overhead.
WINNER flashed in glowing letters.
Beside Jae-jin’s name.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a bare second, just long enough to push back the threat of tears. Long enough to send an apology out into the void.
I’m sorry, Papa.
She’d done her best. But it hadn’t been enough.