Legends of Tarthirious : Books One-Four of Kylia's Story (Legends of Tarthirious (A LitRPG))

by Zachariah Dracoulis

  I got to my feet and grabbed my bag, “Cheers Phillip. Half hour, yeah?”

  “Go 45, you did well covering for everyone else. See you at quarter past.” he said before going back to his office.

  “Yeah… thanks.” I said confusedly, he wasn’t normally the type to let people go on extended breaks, but I supposed what he said made some kind of sense.

  Gerald had already walked past me and was almost at the elevator by the time I turned around, “Come on, if we hurry we can go to the bank.”

  I smiled and jogged over to him, I knew what he meant. We’d barely gotten to the office in time that morning, and testing it with seeing if the bank was even open didn’t seem like a good course of action, but neither did messing up the entire routine and going on a Tuesday either.

  I wish I could say we had something interesting for lunch that day, really would have made everything a whole lot better, but nope, it was a plain sandwich from our building’s bottom floor café for me. After that is when things became a bit odd.

  We got to the bank and found ourselves automatic tellers side-by-side, “How much do you think you’ll have?” Gerald asked as I looked over my card to make sure I was inserting it correctly.

  “I don’t know, maybe one or two hundred thousand? Probably somewhere in between there, you?” I asked before tapping in my pin.

  “Lord Almighty!” Gerald exclaimed, “I’m probably going to get 20,000, max!”

  I smiled, waiting for the machine to load all five character’s information, “Yeah, well, most of that will be going toward my debt.”

  The machine finally woke up and started spitting out information.

  Joanna the Kind: 17,595 Iron Ore, 12,475 Gold Ore, 5,060 Gems, 3,940 Diamonds.

  Richard Fireheart: 22,430 Iron Ore, 9,925 Gold Ore, 7,420 Gems, 5,610 Diamonds.

  Grothal the Hero: 11,025 Iron Ore, 8,055 Gold Ore, 2,740 Gems, 1,280 Diamonds.

  Armelia Fireheart: 12,995 gold.

  Daemion the Dread: 567,350 gold.

  Total Estimated Worth: £449,832.15

  Convert All?

  Kylia: Chapter 22

  I forced myself to blink a dozen times, clearly the machine was broken. I started scrolling through Daemion’s history and started adding, there was the award for reaching the number one spot in the Arena, then for holding it, then just battle after battle of undisputed wins.

  “Fucking Hell!” Gerald yelled so loud that people all over the bank gave us dirty looks, “Sorry!” he shouted apologetically before getting really close to the screen, “How in the Hell did you manage that?”

  I shook my head slowly in disbelief, “I… don’t rightly know. It has to be a mistake, right? Like a decimal place instead of a comma or something?”

  Gerald rubbed the screen above the comma with his thumb, but still no change, “Nope. How?”

  “I told you I don’t know, do I? Clearly there’s something wrong.”

  Gerald rubbed the numbers again and shook his head, “They’re pretty intense about making sure there aren’t any mess ups, certainly nothing like this. What are you going to do?”

  In that moment all of the shock sloughed from me and an overly giddy feeling replaced it, “Convert all.” I said proudly as I pushed the button.

  I wished that it immediately ejected my card, but there were a few awkward seconds of waiting after my, in my opinion, awesome response, before a bold message appeared on the screen saying ‘APPROVED’ and my card was spat back into my hand.

  I’d done it, we’d done it, Daemion and I, we’d beaten the cycle. I could pay off my debt, and probably Gerald’s as well if I wanted to. I was finally free. Course, I’d have to wait the 48 hours before the money would actually be paid into my debt account, but still, I was a free woman.

  I was a citizen.

  “So what do you want to do now that you’re filthy stinking rich? Please tell me it’s spoil your boyfriend, please, please, please.”

  I went to say ‘Yes, of course’ and really take him on the town, but then I checked the time, “Maybe get back to work? Then tomorrow, all day, I promise.”

  He pouted jokingly then smiled, “Makes sense, I could never understand those people who won lotto then immediately quit their jobs. It seems like the absolute worst idea.”

  And then we talked about how stupid people were for spending all their money on ridiculous things while also talking about all the ridiculous things that we’d get and how it was okay. The suggestion of getting a tiger for a pet was thrown around for a while before we started laughing at the idea of taking it back to my flat.

  “Can you imagine how scared everyone would be with one of those things above their head? I frighten the neighbours if my stereo’s too loud.” I said as we stepped out of the elevator.

  “Hey,” Gerald said, still chuckling, and tapped me on the arm while pointing into the office, “hey… Why are there MPs at your desk?”

  I stopped laughing and looked over confusedly to see Phillip talking to a group of five MPs, “I… have no idea. Wanna find out?”

  “Heh, yeah. Am I about to learn that you’re some wanted killer or something?”

  “Hope not, then I’d have to kill you.” I said with a light-hearted nudge.

  I waited until I was in a respectable range to start talking, close enough that I wasn’t yelling over people, but far enough so that they knew I wasn’t attacking them, “Afternoon officers. Is everything alright?”

  One of the five turned around, a sergeant, judging from the insignia on his chest, and stared at me through his helmet’s open visor, “Kylia Redmond?” he asked with a Scottish accent.

  I nodded, “Yes, that’s me, what’s this all about?”

  Before I knew what was happening one of the others had taken my bag and pulled my hands behind my back and started handcuffing me, “Kylia Redmond, I am arresting you on suspicion of unlawful conduct in a virtual world and you do not have to say anything; but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do choose to say may be given in evidence.” the sergeant quickly rattled off like it was some kind of official police rap.

  My head was spinning, everyone was staring at me as I involuntarily struggled against the cuffs, “Unlawful… Cheating!? Are you saying I cheated?”

  The sergeant started ushering me out toward the elevator, “No, I am arresting you on suspicion that you have. Let’s not add resisting arrest to the charges.”

  I was in shock, I was in handcuffs, I was in… I wanted to cry, and kick and scream, and roar that I was innocent.

  I did none of that though.

  I kept my head down, refusing to look at my judging co-workers. I promised myself then and there that I’d stay strong and I would plead my case without showing even the slightest amount of emotion.

  But then I heard Gerald crying out, “You can’t bloody do this! She hasn’t done anything wrong! Let me go you fucking pilloc-” a heavy sounding crack stopped him in his tracks, and when I went to look up I had my head pushed back down.

  “Trust me,” the sergeant whispered in my ear in an almost comforting voice, “you don’t want to see. Just keep your head down and this’ll all be over soon.”

  It wasn’t though.

  Legends of Tarthirious

  Book Two of Kylia’s Story

  A LitRPG

  by

  Zachariah Dracoulis

  For Elisha,

  Your strength and love is what gets me through the day.

  Kylia: Chapter 1

  I sat in the uncomfortable stainless steel chair with my hands crossed on my lap, the detective who’d been interrogating me having just left to smoke a cigarette. As terrified and confused as I was, the anxiety that had plagued me on the ride to the station had somewhat subsided.

  ‘I haven’t done anything wrong,’ I told myself as I looked around the grey interrogation room, ‘there’s been some kind of mistake, and at any moment now they’
re going to come through the door and tell me I’m free to go.’

  My eyes came to rest on the large two-way mirror in front of me, the red around my eyes the only sign that I’d cried on the way over. ‘Just a mistake.’

  “Free to go!” the cockney detective shouted as he burst into the room, his black tie slightly loosened, the top button on his white shirt undone since I’d last seen him, and his sleeves rolled up to reveal a series of black tattoos.

  “Really?” I asked excitedly, my eyes widening to almost unrealistic proportions.

  “No,” he said with a nasty grin as he sat down across from me, “not until you can prove your innocence which, at this point, is seemin’ less ‘n’ less likely. Let’s run through this again. We have email correspondence between you and another player, Wales discussing sums of money for him to play for you, as well as records of wire transfers from your account to his. Any of this starting to sound familiar?”

  I was on the verge of tears again, but I forced myself to stay strong, “I’ve already told you, I have no idea how those messages were sent. I’d never cheat, I swear.”

  The Detective let out an annoyed sigh, “Same tune, different lyrics. Look, we’re gettin’ an order to extradite your partner, and I’m sure he’s gonna want to cooperate. Make this easy on yourself and just confess.”

  I knew they didn’t have anything solid, I’d already be in jail if they did. I wanted to ask for my phone call, bide some time until they could finally find proof that it wasn’t me, but I didn’t know who to call.

  I didn’t have a lawyer or family who could bail me out or otherwise help me, and I didn’t know Gerald’s number, and even if I did I didn’t think he’d want to hear from me.

  “You know what’s gonna happen, don’t you? You’re gonna be taken to jail where you’ll be workin’ the mines on that warden assigned level one Dwarf. You’ll be workin’ off that debt o’ yours at 14p an hour, and I’ve been lookin’ over your file, and you’ll need a Helluva lot more to get even close come New Year. So I suggest you start talkin’, ‘fore I have to do somethin’ that I’m gonna have to shut the cameras off for.”

  He was menacing, no doubt about that, but there was nothing I could do or say to stop him. He was absolutely convinced that I’d cheated, and with no way to prove I hadn’t, that jail was starting to sound like my only way out of the room.

  “Will,” a male voice said over the intercom, “come out here for a second.”

  The Detective lingered a few seconds longer, staring me down as if he was trying to read my mind, before standing up dramatically, knocking the chair backwards and making me jump, “Don’t go anywhere.” he laughed as he left the room.

  I tried to dissect the voice, which was hard for me even when he was talking. There was something about it though, with just those six words I’d heard tones of disappointment, anger, and no small amount of tiredness. I wanted to know what was going on, just to know what was being said less than twenty feet from me.

  I was right about to give up on trying to force some sort of super hearing without the help of a radioactive bat bite when I heard Will’s voice boom angrily from the room on the other side of the mirror. The words themselves were impossible to make out, but I could infer from the syllable count that ‘bullshit’ was at least one of them.

  The other person in the room must’ve calmed him down though, the roars dying down as quickly as they’d come. I wanted to be enthusiastic, but I guess the day had taken that out of me. How could I be sure that it wasn’t just another trick to try and break my spirit?

  I’d started preparing for the worst when the Detective reappeared at the door, opening it sheepishly with an irritated expression, “You’re free to go. Someone’ll call you in the next couple o’ days to get a statement.”

  ‘Definitely a trick…’ I told myself, ‘Get me to stand up and go out the door only to grab me up and arrest me for fleeing.’

  “What’re you doin’? Geddup! I’m done lookin’ at you.”

  I snapped to my feet the second he shouted and made my way past him nervously, stopping once I was out of the room and turning to him, “What happened?”

  “Nunya concern, get your things from the front desk and get the Hell outta here.” he said before going into the interrogation room and slamming the door behind him.

  As I made my way through the station I didn’t feel relief, or comfort, I didn’t even really feel free. All I felt was violated, something was going on with Daemion, and I had no idea what.

  Daemion: Chapter 1

  Player disconnected.

  “What the Hell?”

  Opening chatroom.

  ‘You absolute imbecile.’

  …

  …

  ‘Afternoon to you too. Mind telling me why you pulled me from the game?’

  …

  …

  ‘You know exactly why. How could you be so stupid as to continue playing AFTER she was arrested? Are you deliberately trying to undermine this operation, or did you plan this from the start?’

  …

  …

  ‘How was I supposed to know she’d been arrested? It’s your job to monitor her. I’ve spent the last two days trying to convince you that we needed to stop.’

  …

  …

  ‘Are you somehow insinuating that this is my fault? Need I remind you of your position?’

  …

  …

  ‘I’m not insinuating anything. I’m outright stating that this is your fault, because it is. So don’t you go trying to convince me that this is my doing, I was just doing as I was told. Saturation necessary. Remember that?’

  …

  …

  ‘How dare you. You’d think that you’d have at least learned some respect by now. Not that it matters.’

  Left chatroom.

  That was all Bishop needed to hear to know what came next. Clean-up crews.

  He broke away from his old and decrepit chair, and started setting the wheels in motion for ‘Plan X’, a contingency he’d planned since gaining his citizenship. He started by tapping a marble along its ramp that sat in front of his rig before going on a mad dash throughout the tiny log cabin, grabbing his puffy white jacket and bug out bag, as well as the snub-nosed revolver from under his pillow which he checked for ammo before sticking it in his jean’s pocket.

  The firewall went up as planned, as the match struck the sandpaper perfectly and hit the pile of tissues behind the monitor, a bottle of vodka attached to a string falling and smashing against the desk as the embers burned through the alcohol soaked twine which had held it above the rig.

  By the time the roof of the cabin had started to burn, Bishop had made it outside into the blistering snow, the overcast the only thing stopping him being completely blinded.

  “Now…” he said to the frozen Scottish Highlands as the cabin’s wood screamed against the roar of the flames, “Which way to London…”

  Kylia: Chapter 2

  During the tube ride home I felt like every other passenger was staring at me, probably had something to do with my on-and-off sobbing that I was struggling to keep to myself. I should’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’d been having such a good time of it that I’d briefly forgotten how crappy the world was.

  I hate to sound like a pessimist, but it was. My colleagues probably all thought I was some kind of criminal, my neighbours probably thought I was a complete wreck, seeing as they’d all seemingly chosen the exact moment I walked through the building’s door to go out.

  Then there was Gerald.

  I had no idea what must’ve been going through his head, but at that point in time I was just picturing the worst possible outcome for everything. I guessed that it was over between us as I walked into my cold, empty flat, I was back to being alone with my computers and takeout.

  After I had myself a good cry on the couch, as well as no small amount of screaming into a pillow, I figured I should at least fin
d out if I still had a job. I splashed myself with some water and did a few test checks of my voice to make sure it wouldn’t break the second I called Phillip, then found my mobile and dialled.

  I secretly hoped that he wouldn’t answer and I’d be able to just leave a message, but it was far from my lucky day.

  “Kylia?” he answered in shock, not bothering to introduce himself as he’d normally done, “Is that you?”

  “Yes, yes it’s me.” I said, involuntarily clearing my nose and letting him know I’d been crying.

  “Oh thank God. Are you alright?”

  I’m glad I didn’t have to explain that I wasn’t in jail, my stupid brain thinking for a second that he was somehow psychic before remembering that there was such a thing as caller ID.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. How’s everything at the office?”

  There was silence for a few seconds, I’d clearly shocked him by talking as if nothing at all interesting had happened in the last few hours, but then he composed himself and responded, “Everything’s fine here. What happened?”

  I really didn’t want to talk about it, most of all to my boss, but I knew I at least owed him a small explanation. “They just asked me a few questions then let me go. They weren’t clear about it, but I’m pretty sure they know I’m innocent.”

  “Well that’s good.”

  Another silence hung in the air for a while after that, neither one of us quite knowing what to say.

  “So, when did you need me back at work?” I asked anxiously.

  “Oh… um…” I was so terrified by those responses, I was expecting the dreaded ‘Don’t come back’, but then he cleared his throat and started talking again, “Take the rest of the week. You’ve accrued some holiday pay and I think it’d be good for you to get some time.”