“You are not from here,” she continues. “Not from this plane of existence, correct?”
I nod, not knowing what else to say. I’m not even sure what would happen if I told them the truth. That their entire existence is a plaything for another world. In Pangea, the NPCs would laugh it off with a comment about how I’ve had too much to drink. Here, I’m not so sure. Where everything feels so real and the AI reacts to every choice I make, I don’t know what kind of effects that would cause.
“Something called you back when you were here earlier. It was easy to see if you have my true sight. I have been here since the beginning and I have seen much come and go across the kingdom. But I have yet to see someone who can truly disappear, not only from sight, but from existence. Not until you.”
That’s all fine and dandy, but I have my own questions. “What did you do to Carter? Why are his eyes glowing like that, and why is there a zombie in the town dungeon?”
“You brought him here to be healed. I saved his life the only way I knew how. Magic. His eyes will continue to glow until the magic that saved his life has left him. Until that time, a little of what resides in me will reside in him. And as far as the zombie goes, that is not my doing.” Her eyes fall on the woman I followed here. “Kindra?”
“What? He’s not a zombie. Geez.” She stares daggers in my direction. “Not that you could convince those idiots out there otherwise. I was practicing my mind magic on one of the stable boys. He tried to fight it off and fell in a heaping pile of horse shit. What was left is that half of his brain was pretty much useless for the next few hours, so he went around stumbling through town looking and smelling like the dead. He’s fine now, though.”
“How do you know?” I ask.
“I paid him a visit. He has no memories we ever met,” she says with a smirk.
Kindra has the abilities to influence the minds of other NPCs. I wonder if her abilities work on real people. If they would work on me. I mean, she did immobilize me, but was that mental or physical? I hope to never find out. That makes me wonder if I am the only one who can see health bars and status updates. I suspect so, otherwise, the townspeople would have known right away that the stable boy wasn’t a zombie.
I’m suddenly aware I’ve been staring at Kindra far too long and look away.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Carter.
He lifts his shirt and shows me the area where the pitchfork impaled him. Three scars line his shoulder, but the wounds look as if they happened ages ago.
“I feel good. Better than good actually. I feel powerful. Not strong, per se, but like there is an energy in me that could do great things if I knew how to direct it. Priscilla offered to teach me, but I turned down the offer. If what she says is true and that this power will slowly fade over time, I don’t know if it is something I would cherish or always long for. For me, it’s best if I go back to my life as a farmer without knowing the mysteries of the world.”
Carter is a wise man, if a little cowardly. If I had the opportunity to learn magic, I would take it in a heartbeat, even if it was only for a little bit of time. It’s not every day that you have the opportunity to experience things that are truly great.
“You have more resolve than I do. I think you can never know too much,” I say.
“Perhaps, but I find it hard to mourn a life you have never lived. So for me, the veil remains.” He sits back with a smile.
“There are always things that are better left unknown,” says Priscilla. She enters the room fully and places an arm on Carter’s shoulder. “I gave him the option to know more and he chose what is right for him. I imagine it would not be easy to tend a field knowing you once had the power to magically care for it. Or drive a carriage after being able to communicate with animals.”
Carter’s glowing eyes widen at the last two sentences. This must be new information to him.
“Wait, you mean there is magic for tending crops and communicating with animals? I thought it was all fireballs and healing spells.”
Kindra scoffs in the corner.
“My dear,” says Priscilla, “there is magic for almost anything. Sure, fire and healing both play a part, but there are also, earth, water, air, and many other elements that have their own magic. Even the mind.” She nods at Kindra.
“Does the world know?” I ask.
“What, about magic? Certain circles know more than others, but even the commoners know that it exists, even if they fear it. Long ago, there was the Age of Mages, where magic ruled above all else. This was back before the world was split, leaving us with The Broken Lands. Magic had a role in everything from politics to farming, and there were a great many mages who grew to be very powerful.” She takes a seat and motions for me to do the same. “Society flourished. People lived a lot better than they do now. But power often corrupts. Mages grew distrusting of one another and what started as dissent eventually turned into all-out war. Many of the greatest magical minds of all time were wiped out, and then the non-magical who inherited power had their names and feats erased from the history books.”
“Wow, that’s terrible.”
“Terrible?” objects Kindra. “It’s a crime against the nature of the universe.”
Priscilla continues, “There are still some who practice magic throughout the kingdom, but we do so in secret and to our own ends. Those who use magic fear the common people just as much as the common people fear magic. Well, those of us who are smart do.” She looks at Kindra, but Kindra doesn’t acknowledge the jab. “The days of widespread magic use are gone, I fear.”
“Priscilla, I’ve heard a lot of talk about black magic today, but Kindra says it doesn’t exist. Is this true? Can you help me better understand how magic works in your world?”
She sighs and rubs her fingers over her eyes. In that moment, her age shows, even though her appearance doesn’t. It’s a movement that has been done a million times in moments of quiet desperation.
“Black magic exists, but not in the way the commoners fear. It is very rare and is usually done in isolation. It is a corruption of one’s own soul more than anything else, and more complex than I could begin to explain. What the commoners fear is the unknown. That there is something out there with power they cannot understand and have no answer for. So they ascribe all magic to black magic.
“I’m sure deep down, they know that some of what I do is magic. But I cover up every spell with a useless ingredient I recommend them to take once a day for a week. I don’t attempt to bring people back from the dead and I don’t normally save those who can’t be saved. The exception being your friend here. It is hard to hide the glowing eyes, after all. Most spells don’t have that effect. It’s only because my essence invaded his body that he is alive.”
“Why him then? Why break your own rules for someone you don’t know?”
“Hmmm, it’s hard to say. When you both entered my doorway, I knew that you needed my help. I had a feeling in my very being that the two of you would have a part to play in the coming days.”
If I had to guess, I would bet that the AI influenced her decision. I try to clear my head for a moment. To remember that this is a game just like any other. There will be quests and battles and alliances before it is all said and done. Somehow, it feels like more than that. These people feel like they live and breathe just like me. They have histories and thoughts. Priscilla has a history that goes back before this world was ever created. How is that possible?
“Excuse me, Priscilla,” says Carter, rubbing his hands together. “I think I’ve changed my mind. I want to learn magic while I can.”
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“I am. I’ve always wanted to be the best farmer I can be. I have no desire to battle monsters with magic, but if it allows me to cultivate and grow, then I am intrigued.”
“Very well. Follow me.” She stands and we follow her.
Priscilla leads us deeper into the cottage, past the room where she saved Carter’s life, through a
room filled with of a variety of herbs where a miniature ball of light hovers above them, radiating heat. We pass into another room that is completely empty except for a chair and a lantern.
“This is where I come to think and relive days of long ago,” she says. “Have a seat.”
Carter and I take a seat on the floor. Kindra didn’t follow us.
“First, there are a few things you should know about magic. Most mages only specialize in one type of magic. Though they may expand and diverge and combine multiple elements, there is only one true element at the heart of their magic. For me, that is not the case. I don’t know how I was blessed with such gifts, but I am able to master more than one element. Over the eons, I have used my gifts to give many, like Carter, a chance at experiencing magic with their own minds and bodies.”
“Does that mean I can use multiple branches of magic as well?” asks Carter.
“It does, but your abilities will be limited to your own experiences. The connection between mind and magic is great and the more in tune you become with your own element, the greater that magic will become. So let us begin. Carter, I want you to close your eyes and think of fire. Imagine burning coals, a fireplace, a small fire that heats your stove for dinner.”
Carter closes his eyes. His eyelids glow from his fiery eyes beneath them.
“Can you see it?” she asks.
“I can.”
“Now, reach out to the fire in your mind. Take it in your hands. Don’t worry, it won’t burn you. Take the fire and hold it. Feel the energy within you, push that energy towards the fire.”
A low groan escapes Carter’s lips. Suddenly, a spark ignites in the air above his outstretched palms. It crackles a few times before exploding into a small flame.
“Oh!” he exclaims, realizing that he’s holding a flame in his hands. “I did this? I did this!”
The fire disappears as quickly as it came.
“Remember that feeling. You can apply it to anything.”
For the next hour, Carter conjures fire from his mind, makes water jump from one cup to another, and cuts himself just so he can make the skin heal and regrow. These would be party tricks in most games, but here, it feels like such an achievement. Here, magic isn’t unlocked by picking up a spell-book, it is created in the mind. The stronger the mind, the stronger the spell.
Once Carter has mastered the basics of magic, Priscilla takes us back into the room filled with herbs. The glowing ball of light draws my attention. It’s amazing how it simply hovers in the air like a miniature sun. When I reach out to touch it, the hotter it becomes until I feel a slight burn on my skin from its heat.
“I think this is where you will be truly glad of your choice,” she tells Carter. “Your progress is only limited by your imagination.”
Carter strolls between the plants, running his fingers along their leaves. He treats them with reverence. For him, plants have been his livelihood. It makes sense he would feel connected to them. He stops in front of a tiny, dark green plant. Its leaves are prickly with a waxy coating. He lifts the clay pot and examines its contents.
“I’ve never seen this plant before,” he says.
“Devil’s Breath,” says Priscilla. “Its leaves are extremely poisonous when eaten, but it makes the most beautiful flowers when it blooms. The flowers have special properties used in several potions.”
“Wait, I thought you said your potions were fake,” I chime in.
She laughs. “Only if they are a ruse to cover my magic. I make real potions, and I also sell herbs and spices for potion-making on the side. It has become a hobby of mine.”
I turn back to Carter, who stares intently at the plant before him. I focus on the plant and a translucent scroll pops up in my vision.
Devil’s Breath. Plant. Poisonous leaves frighten many from using this magical herb, but the rare flower it produces is a key ingredient in many euphoria potions.
Congratulations! You have learned the skill Analyze. Any time you focus on an item within your skill level, information about it will appear in your field of view.
That’s super cool. It feels like the AI is already changing the layout of prompts based on what I prefer.
Using my new analyze skill, I search the room, learning about various plants.
Mock Rose. Plant. The leaves of this deadly plant curl into the shape of a rose. The red underside of the leaves lures many hapless insects to their death.
Drowsy Parsley. Plant. A cousin of the traditional herb, drowsy parsley must be handled with care. A touch is all it takes to send one to slumber.
Carter closes his eyes and the Devil’s Breath begins to shake. Its prickly leaves twinge and unfold, growing in size. A tiny bud blossoms from the center and unravels, displaying a sky-blue flower in the shape of a cone.
A smile sweeps across Carter’s face.
He picks up another plant and I focus on it to reveal its name.
Crawling Woundwort. Plant. This plant is capable of removing itself from the earth and replanting in a different location. Its medicinal properties aid in the treatment of wounds.
Carter pulls the plant from its planter and holds it by the stem. It is long and thin with tiny purple flowers that protrude from the side. Two long leaves stick out like arms and the roots move back and forth like dozens of tiny legs dangling in the air. Carter places the woundwort on the ground and it begins running around the room.
It hides behind a planter, poking its flowered head around the side to watch us.
“It’s like a whole world I never knew about,” he says. “There is so much more than carrots and potatoes.”
“The world is a magical place for those who open their eyes,” says Priscilla.
“Do these plants exist everywhere, right beneath our noses?” asks Carter.
“They do, though it takes magical intuition to be able to recognize them for what they are. Most people see what they want to see, and the magical properties are hidden from them.”
I notice Carter focusing on a vine that winds up the wall. He closes his eyes for a moment and the vine begins to unclasp from the wall, winding through the air like a snake. It strikes and stops inches from his face. He winks at me, one bright orange eye disappearing, and then the vine strikes fast at my hand, wrapping its tendrils around my arm.
“I—I feel the power of this vine. It could break through your skin, maybe more if I wanted it to.” He takes a deep breath. “How can I ever go back?” he asks, and the vine releases me.
This is way too real. An NPC contemplating how his life will be affected by knowing about the use of magic. I wouldn’t be surprised if this new AI had the ability to give its characters depression, anxiety, anger even. Not just simulated versions, but the real thing.
Maybe I can help, but first, I need to know more about the history of this world.
“Priscilla, how did the early mages get their power?”
She smiles as if she knows what I’m thinking.
“Some were born with the gift. Some acquired it.”
“For those who acquired it, how did they do it?” If I can find out how magic is bestowed, then maybe I can find a way for Carter to learn it for real.
“Most of it has been lost to the ages. As I said before, magic is not often the topic of conversation anymore.”
“But what if someone wanted to learn it? How would they begin?”
Her smile vanishes and is replaced by a stern look. For a brief moment, I can see the hag that hides underneath the beautiful face the world sees. Just as quickly, it is gone.
“How would they begin?” she echoes. “With a quest.”
Chapter Nine
Carter wears a cowl that hangs low over his face. An attempt to obscure his bright orange eyes until we are able to make it out of town.
“Just keep your head low and let me do the talking,” I say. Not that talking has ever been my strong suit, but I’ll hopefully cut to the chase and get us through the gate.
Getting
past the guards will be the hardest part. After all the rumors going around, they will be very skeptical of someone hiding their face in broad daylight. We have no other options, though. Priscilla gave us a crude map of where to go. It’s a long journey on foot, but if we make it, she says that is where Carter can learn magic.
Once she gave me the map, it appeared as a translucent icon in the lower corner of my vision. It only becomes readable when I focus on it. Another one of the AI’s improvements. This world is beginning to feel a lot more like a game as time passes.
Still, I question what the AI’s intentions are. Benjamin wanted the most realistic user experience of all time. For there to be almost no discernible difference between game and reality, but with the AI in complete control now, what are its end goals? Is it possible for an artificial intelligence to be completely benevolent, or is it now subject to the same mood swings as the men and women who created it? Right now, it feels like it is putting me on course for something. But what?
The guards focus on us as we approach. They stand sentry before the gate, spears crossed over one another, blocking our passage.
“What’s your business?” asks one.
“We are heading home after selling our goods.” The guards don’t move, intent on keeping us inside.
“Did you sell your wagon as well? I remember you brought your friend in here bleeding yesterday. Is that him?” He uncrosses his spear and points it at Carter. “He was looking pretty rough yesterday. Seems to be walking fine today. That’s awfully strange if you ask me. Remove the hood.”
Pangea Online: The Complete Trilogy Page 30