Pangea Online: The Complete Trilogy

by S. L. Rowland

  The small Menehune is nowhere to be found.

  After such an exciting adventure, I spend the rest of the day in the countryside of the Mortican Mountains, farming the countryside, until Aleesia is free from work. We talk about our days. I tell her about the adventure with Benji and she tells me how excited everyone is to have me back in the game. I’m pretty excited myself, though I am worried about what happened to Carter. I sure hope he is okay.

  We race across the plains and I am struck by the beauty of Aleesia’s dark elf. Before the Developer’s Tournament, she was a high-elf with pale skin, blue eyes, blonde hair and a calming demeanor. But during the last task, she used a powerful spell to help me through the stage. The side-effect of the spell changed her race to a dark elf permanently.

  It turned her ivory skin to charcoal, her blue eyes red, and her blonde hair black. Even still, she managed to keep the calmness that drew me to her in the first place. She hasn’t streamed much since the tournament. I think working on the full-immersion programming has been more than enough entertainment for her.

  I only stream for an hour a day myself, performing the minimal content I agreed to when I signed the contract that allowed me to move out of The Boxes and into a one-bedroom apartment in Civic City so that I could focus on the tournament full-time. There are still several months left on my contract, so I have to stream for so many hours a week until its terms are completed. It’s not that bad, honestly. I have developed quite a following and for once, I seem to be getting more love than hate mail.

  Not that I need the money from streaming now. After finding out that I was not just an orphan, but the lost son of Howard Allen, famous developer for Pangea Online, Benjamin has worked to make sure that I never need to work again if I don’t want to. I have a stake in the company and will be set up for life once all the paperwork goes through over the course of a few months.

  I’m heir to more money than I could ever imagine, more money than I could ever use. Maybe once it’s mine, I can do some good with it.

  Aleesia and I get off our mounts and journey up the side of one of the mountains, battling orcs and goblins. My followers tune in, commenting on my play and begging me to stream more. It’s mindless leveling, but it keeps my fans happy for the hour we spend together each night. Once the hour is up, Aleesia and I log out and go back to my apartment, where we share dinner. I make us pasta with vegetables. One of the things I’ve enjoyed about my new life the most is learning how to cook.

  “It’s the most amazing thing I have seen,” she begins, taking a bite. “Usually, we input our programming and then the game runs its course, making every decision based on the rules we have constructed. This is different, though. The AI, it is actually creating its own set of rules and basing them around what you do. It has created new rules since you left. It’s like it read your mind and has tailored the game towards you. I can’t even begin to imagine what will happen once more players are added. The possibilities—”

  The buzz of the intercom cuts her off. Someone is trying to contact me.

  “Yes,” I answer. There is only one person who would message me through my apartment’s intercom at this hour. Benjamin.

  “Great. I’m glad you’re there. There has been a new development with the in-game world for the full-immersion unit. We need you down here now.”

  Chapter Seven

  “What do you mean ‘new development’?” Aleesia asks as we walk into the lab.

  Benjamin stands next to the full-immersion unit while Marty prepares the equipment. Benjamin’s eyes are focused on a tablet, but he looks up when we approach. It looks like I might be going back in. Several other technicians scurry around the room or sit in the control room, monitoring screens.

  “The AI has modified our code with some of its own.” His eyes glow with excitement. “Nothing out of the ordinary, but it has taken out some of the fail-safes and added in an element of what looks like time compression.”

  “Time compression? But programmers have been trying to crack that for years. How? And can we manually overwrite the new data?” Aleesia scrunches her face at the news.

  “We could, but I’m interested to see how this plays out. We’ve been testing the formula for time compression for hours now and it all seems to add up. Time in the video game goes by almost three times faster. For every three hours in game, only an hour of Earth time passes. This in itself could change the future of gaming. Hell, the world.”

  “So what do you need me for?” I ask. This is all fascinating, but it’s way over my paygrade. There’s no way they would send me in to test out something that a computer created. Would they?

  “I want you to log in. You’ll be the first person to ever experience time compression. Don’t you want to know what that is like?”

  It would be cool, but… “Is it safe?”

  “We’ve run the numbers over and over. It all lines up. If we wait, there is no telling what might happen in-game. It’s already been six hours since you logged out. That means almost a full day has passed since you set things in motion.”

  Aleesia takes my hand in hers. “Benjamin, I know we wanted to have Esil log in at least every twenty-four hours, but this is day one. Do you really think his body is ready for so much so soon? We don’t even know the effects time compression could have on the mind, not to mention his body.” At least someone is concerned about my safety.

  “Our doctors are on hand. If anything seems out of the ordinary, we’ll pull you right out. Our initial estimates for in-game time were cautious. We wanted to play it safe, but this is too good of an opportunity to miss. It’s not everyday that an artificial intelligence starts making its own decisions. Of course, nothing happens without your approval, Esil. Just know that we do have other players in waiting who would do anything to be in your shoes.”

  The threat isn’t lost on me. If I don’t go into the game, then I’m out of the alpha testing.

  The doctor checks my vitals and then Marty suits me up.

  “Good luck,” he whispers as I submerge into the warm gel.

  I close my eyes and when I reopen them, I’m slouched in the corner of an alley. Has my avatar been here the entire time or does it disappear when I log out? I still wear the same oversized tunic and pants I stole from the scarecrow. A rat squeaks and scurries into a crate nearby. A tiny health bar hovers over its head. The tag disappears after a second and then only returns when I focus on the animal. That must be one of the changes the AI has made. It feels good to have a little familiarity of a gameworld to remind me that this isn’t real.

  The stench of whatever is inside the crate makes me gag. It smells like a nice combination of rotten eggs and vomit. The joys of full immersion. I take a deep breath, gathering myself while I go over the course of events that happened earlier in the day. Carter was stabbed and I took him to the healer. She transformed into a disgusting hag and began injecting Carter with some black magical liquid. That was the last thing I saw before being pulled from the game.

  If Benjamin is right and nearly eighteen hours have passed since I was here, then that means Carter could be anywhere, dead or alive. My best bet is to check at the healer’s building where I left him. The black cottage with a white handprint on the door is seared in my mind. If he’s not there, at least maybe it will give me a clue as to where to go next. It’s my fault he was hurt in the first place. If I hadn’t convinced him to challenge those bandits, he never would have been impaled. I owe it to him to find out what’s happened.

  At the end of the alley, I notice the streets are nearly empty. All is quiet except for a few soldiers who seem to be patrolling. The click of their boots on the cobbled streets echoes through the otherwise silence. The sun is low in the east. It couldn’t have risen more than an hour ago by its positioning. I logged in just at the beginning of a new day it seems.

  I keep behind the wall, only peeking one eye around the corner, when a prompt flashes across my vision.

  Increased Sneaking. Whe
n the cats are away, the mice will play.

  Well, that’s cool. I wonder if that was a change Benjamin made or the AI? Either way, it’s nice to see when I level up and increase my skills.

  Two guards meet in the middle of the courtyard and I strain to listen. They both wear leather armor and carry spears. Dull helmets cover their heads. Whoever they are, they aren’t the kingsguard. More than likely, they were commoners who joined the military for steady pay and a bit of adventure.

  Increased Eavesdropping. Someone is a sneaky little rat, aren’t we?

  Is the AI taunting me? I listen harder and the muffled voices of the guards become clearer.

  “Go ahead and ring the bell. If it was up to me, I’d leave the whole town locked up and toss away the key, but Jacob says the scum are free to move about during the day until we get this mess sorted. A little bit of black magic is enough to burn the whole town to the ground if you ask me. But I guess he doesn’t want another Harbor’s Edge on his hands. The commonfolk almost went into a revolt when that happened. Not that I wouldn’t mind poking a few if it came to that.” He laughs, stabbing his spear through the air. The other soldier turns to leave and a few moments later, a loud ring echoes through the streets. It doesn’t take long before the sounds of doors and shutters opening and the click of hooves on stone welcomes the town to bustling life.

  The only thing missing is conversation or the bickering of barter in the market. Suspicion radiates from everyone who passes, and the only talk comes in the form of hushed whispers. Dozens of townspeople fill the streets and their health bars flash in front of me before disappearing. If I focus on a particular person, it reappears. There are no names or other indicators of who they are.

  I lock eyes with a young red-haired man and decide to ask him for answers. He wears a patched-up coat that’s frayed and tattered along the edges.

  “Excuse me, sir.” He hesitates for a moment, his feet shuffling as he looks at something in the distance. When I step in front of him, he resignedly comes to a stop.

  “Yes?”

  “What’s going on here?” I ask. The confused look on his face forces me to elaborate. “I just came into town this morning. What’s going on with everyone?”

  His eyes widen when he responds. “If I were you, I’d turn right back around this instant. This town is cursed. There are rumors of black magic and a dead man was said to be walking the streets last night. I hear they have him locked away in the town dungeon. If I had the money, I’d be gone myself.” He looks me up and down and stares for a moment at my bare feet. “Though judging by the look of you, I’d say you’re in the same state as me. Best be keeping to yourself or you might find yourself in the dungeon as well. Townsfolk love to blame outsiders for their problems.” He nods and hurries down the street.

  Black magic and zombies. This isn’t the same world I entered this morning when a farmwoman chased me off her property with a skillet. Bandits were the worst problem then. Things have definitely gotten darker. Did I cause all of this?

  I step in line with the crowd, trying my best not to arouse suspicion, and follow my way through town to the black cottage where I left Carter. Along the way, I overhear several conversations. The townspeople are scared. They all speculate on the source of the magic and tell tales of a town called Harbor’s Edge that was burnt to the ground several years back over the fear of black magic. They are terrified of it happening to Carolton. The fear is palpable. It’s in the very air.

  The black cottage appears around the corner and I find a safe spot to hide and observe between a leather shop and blacksmith. The white handprint on the door seems brighter than earlier. Or perhaps the house is that much darker. The building calls to me from across the street. Is Carter still inside or is he the zombie that was captured last night? I sit back and watch for a moment, curious to see if anyone comes or goes. The last thing I want is to be caught by surprise. If what the townspeople say is true, then the healer has to be responsible for the black magic.

  I wait in the alley for what feels like half an hour before the door opens. The young girl who directed me to the healer when I first entered town exits carrying a basket. She wears the same dull blue tunic as earlier. Was this all a setup? Did she know what the healer was going to do to Carter? Another prompt flashes across my vision.

  Increased Patience. Sometimes, it’s better to be smart than lucky.

  Ha! Talk about being rewarded for doing nothing.

  I follow the young woman down the street, careful not to be seen. Along the way, I am prompted twice with increased sneaking notifications. I don’t know how they affect my character, but it feels like I’m lighter on my feet by the time she comes to a stop.

  Two guards stand sentry over an entrance that leads to an underground tunnel which I assume is the town dungeon. She says something to them and they cross their spears, preventing her passage. She waves her hand, almost imperceptibly, at her waist and just as quickly, they uncross their spears and allow her to pass.

  Did she just use magic?

  Increased Magical Awareness. You now have increased intuition when it comes to spotting magical abilities. Your view of the world will never be the same.

  That’s interesting. Did I just discover a hidden society? Based on people’s reaction to the rumors of black magic, it’s a taboo subject. Does that mean that people believe in magic, but not dark magic? Or is it all a mythical subject that people fear but never see? I’m sure I’m about to find out.

  Once the woman disappears past the guards, I make my approach.

  “Halt!” shouts a guard.

  “The dungeon is off limits,” says the other.

  “I’m with the girl you just let pass,” I say, hoping I can ride her coattails into the dungeon, but the two guards look at each other, confused, before taking a defensive stance and pointing both spears in my direction.

  “No one has passed into the dungeons and if you don’t step back, you’ll find yourself on the pointy end of my spear!” The wooden spear with a steel tip dances inches from my face.

  They don’t remember her passing. She must have wiped their mind somehow.

  I back away, hands raised in submission.

  “My mistake,” I say, and disappear into the crowd before the soldiers have more to say. The last thing I want to do is make a scene.

  I wait for what feels like forever for the young woman to exit the dungeon. My magical awareness increases again when I watch her lull the guards into a momentary slumber so she can sneak by. Once she is out of their sight, they shake their heads as if trying to rid something from their mind.

  The woman weaves through the crowd with haste and I do my best to keep up. She turns a corner and when I make it there, she is gone. Using the nearby steps for a better view, I scan the streets for her blue tunic to no avail.

  Dammit! I lost her. Looks like I’m heading back to the healer’s building. No doubt that is where she was going to begin with.

  This time, I walk more leisurely, taking in the town. A calico cat sits in the window of a nearby house and mews at me as I walk past. All of the buildings are so close together, with the occasional alleyway that passes through. It reminds of The Boxes in a way, except these people are free to come and go as they please. I’m admiring a pie through the window of a bakery when I suddenly can’t move.

  Warning! You have been immobilized.

  I struggle to move my body, but it’s like I’m frozen in place. My eyes still move, but without the ability to turn my head, my vision is scarce.

  “Who are you and why were you following me?” a woman’s warm voice brushes against my ear.

  So much for increased sneaking.

  “My name’s Esil. I want to know what you did with my friend,” I say it as defiantly as I can. “You led us into a trap. Your healer, she used black magic on him!”

  The woman laughs. “Black magic! Ha. You commoners, so quick to label anything you don’t understand as evil. Follow me and I’ll show you y
our black magic.”

  My legs give out and I fall to the ground. My body was not prepared to hold itself up after she removed whatever spell had me frozen. The woman passes by, not checking to see if I am okay. Jumping to my feet, I follow closely, careful not to lose her again. She comes to a stop outside of the black cottage, its white hand burning brighter than ever.

  She knocks three times and the door opens. The inside looks the same as before. Dozens of candles sway in the darkness, casting eerie light against vials of long-dead creatures suspended in an amber liquid. And at a table, drinking tea, sits Carter.

  He looks up at me and his eyes burn a brilliant orange.

  Chapter Eight

  “Esil!” Carter shouts at me, his eyes burning like hot coals. He knocks the table in his haste to see me, spilling tea from his cup and causing a black cat to leap from the floor to a nearby curtain. The cat hisses at me and scurries out of the room. The stench of sulfur and burning herbs assaults my nose.

  Aside from Carter’s eyes, everything about him looks fine. He’s definitely not a zombie. At least as far as I can tell. The health bar over his head is full and green. It actually goes past the limits of a normal health bar and turns yellow. Does he have some kind of buff? His name also appears over his HP. Maybe the system only gives you details once you discover them.

  Carter stands in front of me, his eyes like molten lava, and I can’t for the life of me look away. He grabs me by the shoulders, firm and strong, his farmer’s strength still intact.

  “What happened to you?” I ask. It’s been almost a full day since we last saw one another.

  “Me? What happened to you? You bring me here and then you disappear for an entire day. Priscilla said you were in the room and then the next minute, you just disappeared.”

  “Well, I, uh, I can explain that. Who is Priscilla?” I turn to the woman I followed here, but she just shakes her head.

  “That would be me,” a voice calls from the other room. It’s airy and light, full of warmth and caring. It doesn’t fit with the macabre surroundings. This room is dark, the only light coming from several candles and lanterns that hang from the ceiling. All of the windows are covered in thick curtains that block out the daylight. “I am Priscilla, master of potions and healer for Carolton. Though some just call me the ancient one.” The woman who had transformed into the old hag appears in the doorway. Her health bar glows yellow, just like the end of Carter’s. She wears the same white dress I first saw her in and her face has returned to the beautiful young woman that initially greeted me. Gone are the warts, the gray hair, the black tendrils that reached out to Carter like oily vines. Long, blonde hair hangs down her shoulders, shaping a glowing face.