by K. T. Hanna
“It’s ready!” Laria’s voice, filled with forced cheerfulness, called out from the bathroom. Faint scents of shea drifted out and into her room.
A real bath. Not one of these virtual ones. The headset sat on her head, still snug in its octopus hugging sort of way. She could shake her head and not have it fall off. Even as she righted herself to begin walking toward the room, she could feel each movement sapping her energy reserves.
There was no way she’d make it the eight or so steps. Not today. Maybe tomorrow. As if on cue her mother walked out to help her, a sheepish look in her eyes. Like she’d already forgotten how long it had been since Wren last walked on her real legs.
But that was okay. Wren didn’t hold it against her. Not in the slightest. But she did use it for motivation. Give her a few days and she’d be ready for the fight.
Now all she had to do was hope she could indeed log back in, convince everyone she was okay, and make sure the guild was ready for what was coming. No matter the cost.
Summers Residence
Home of Laria, David, and Wren
Real World - Early Hours Day Twenty
The bath water was starting to cool when Wren heard the echo of the front door shutting again. This time it was soft and not a demanding slam. In her vaguely conscious state, she tracked footsteps as they took the stairs two at a time. She could feel his hesitation as he paused at the bathroom door before knocking.
“Hey there.” Her dad’s voice so close to her made her eyes prickle with tears. It was like he wanted to call her princess like he had when she was younger. She probably wouldn’t have minded right then either.
“Hey, Dad.” Wren smiled, letting the water soothe her, despite the gathering chill. Reluctantly, she had to admit to herself that the bath was probably over already. Even though she had no idea how long she’d been in it. “I’ll be out in a few.”
“Not without your mother. I’m willing to bet you’ve been trying your best to overdo it.” There was a light chuckle to his voice, but it felt like he was masking worry with it. He probably was.
A few moments later and her mother popped into the room armed with a clean, soft towel. Wren was beginning to feel tired, and she’d lost track of time. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out of the game. The constantly litany of voices in the back of her head made her feel like she was in fact dreaming, or else just visiting the virtual edition of her home.
Her hair a bit damp, her clothes nice and warm, she snuggled into the soft bed as her mother shoved a protein bar at her.
Her father hovered at the edge, watching her. The moment Laria moved away he swooped in and sat down next to her on the bed. Wren leaned in for the hug. No matter the situation, no matter the pain, her father’s hugs always hit the spot. They were warm and reassuring, protective and fierce, loving and guiding, all at the same time.
He pulled back and didn’t look away fast enough. Tears welled in his eyes, and Wren felt a pang of guilt at having worried them, even if it wasn’t entirely her fault.
Her mother spoke gently, hesitancy showing she didn’t want to interrupt the moment.
“Eat up. That’ll be gentle on your stomach and give you some of the nutrients you haven’t had for a while. Don’t keep her up. Make sure she sleeps. She needs to regain strength.” Then Laria leaned forward to kiss Wren on the forehead. “Take a bit of time and recuperate.”
She’d left the room before Wren could muster a reply. With all the voices in her head becoming more din like and less controlled, it was all Wren could do to keep her eyes open.
“Sleep, little one,” her dad soothed softly. “I want you to get better, and to get better you need to sleep.”
“Stay here, Daddy?” Suddenly Wren felt alone. She’d been walking around with Snowy by her side for so long that being without him, and without Telvar, and without her friends — everything was lonely.
I’m still here though. We all are.
Was that Telvar? Had he remained in her head?
“Dad?” Wren pushed past her sleepiness for a moment, needing to hear his voice.
“I said I’d stay with you until you fall asleep. You know we’ve been here the whole time, right?” His hand was warm over hers, and she twined her fingers with his strong ones, trying to leech some of the strength she was missing. For a moment she wished she could leech life like Havoc and that it had carried over into the real world so she could replenish her reserves more readily.
“Sleep, pumpkin,” he whispered, kissing her forehead just like her mother had done earlier.
“Kay…” Wren’s eyes grew heavier, but she kept that grip on her dad, like a vice.
As she drifted off the words floating in her head jumbled together. Like a huge word find, they drifted around, bumping into each other and not making any sense at all. The noise faded into a hum, like a white noise machine. The only thing she knew for certain was that she needed true sleep. Even if it meant leaving Somnia’s machinations for a little while.
Summers Residence
Home of Laria, David, and Wren
Real World - Early Hours Day Twenty
A scream of frustration tore through Wren’s mind, sending her into an upright sitting position. She was shivering when she woke, teeth chattering, but the dream had been so fleeting, she couldn’t grasp what had unsettled her so much.
The next thing she knew, Harlow catapulted across from where she’d probably been sitting next to David and enveloped Wren in a rib-grinding bear hug.
“You’re awake! You’re in the real world!” She practically screamed, squeezing tighter, and whispering the words over and over into Wren’s ear.
Wren blinked, words coming back to her sleep fogged mind slowly. Harlow’s warmth, her presence made everything feel more grounded.
Wren returned the hug as tightly as she could, but the strength still wasn’t there. It was going to take a while. “Still tired though. What’s up?”
Had no one else heard that scream like she had? It made her wake up, jolted her out of the nice semi-gibberish dream she’d been having. It was difficult to keep herself in a sitting position once Harlow’s grip loosened.
“Oops! Sorry.” Harlow gently helped Wren sit by stacking pillows behind her so she could rest comfortably. “I got a little excited.”
The blush in Harlow’s cheeks distracted Wren momentarily from her dream. Life without her best friend was unimaginable for her. What had she just put Harlow through? Never having been much of a person for touch, Wren found herself suddenly wanting more contact with Harlow, more of a reassurance they were both real and there.
The echo of the scream rumbled through her head again. Had it been Somnia? She tried to focus, but her stomach rumbled so loudly, it made her laugh. Which made her cough. Which in turn made Harlow fuss.
David grinned and stood up. “There, I watched over you. Now I’ll let your best friend annoy the crap out of you while I go and talk to your mom about what to feed you.”
He leaned over again and brushed Wren’s hair out of her eyes, pushing it away. “Don’t overdo it. Even if you might think you’re not exerting yourself. The odds are that you’re doing something that’s too much for you at the moment. Just take it easy and regain your strength a day at a time.”
He left the room and Harlow waited, bouncing absent-mindedly on the bed as he left. Then she turned to Wren, her eyes bright with a steel Wren was glad she had in her corner. “Well, did it work? Did Telvar’s disastrously timed ejection sever you from the game?”
Wren thought for a moment, reaching out a hand to grab Harlow’s. “Only the sort of physical connection. I seem to have the rest of the world still intact. Like,” and she looked around to make sure no one would overhear them. “Like, I can hear some of the conversations in Somnia. It’s like I’m here, but a portion of my consciousness is also there.”
; It sounded so much worse when she said it out loud. Wren tried to think of other ways to phrase it, but she was tired, and her body was hungry, and she didn’t think she’d woken up properly.
Too much was still swimming in her mind for her to translate it coherently.
“You’re still sort of logged in then?” Harlow bit her lip, and her eyes seemed distant for a moment, but then her green eyes focused on Wren, and for a moment it was all she could see. “What can you hear now?”
“Telvar and Emilarth were discussing me. No one else is being overly relevant, but most everyone we group with has logged out, and the NPCs aren’t overly concerned with me. Although—” She paused, not wanting to sound like she’d hallucinated.
“Although what?” Harlow crossed her arms and put on her best tell me or else face.
Wren sighed, feeling the absence of contact in the hand Harlow had withdrawn. “I thought I heard a scream of frustration. It happened just before I woke up, and it sounded so real. Like I could feel the ground shake underneath my feet. Then I woke up and you and Dad were here, but neither of you appeared to have noticed it.”
Harlow was shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Wren. We didn’t hear anything. Just the soft murmur you made before you snapped out of sleep mode.”
“Yeah, I gathered.” Wren yawned, tired. “It feels like something is missing. Not being able to have Snowy with me is infuriating.”
“Grew attached to him, huh?”
“Totally.” Wren paused for a moment, trying to get her thoughts in order. Playing the game had been her be all and end all of her summer life. But now it had become so much more. How did she even begin to process that?
“You know what?” Harlow suddenly jumped up, clapping her hands, her smile shining like the sun.
“What?” Wren couldn’t help smiling at her friend.
“We can figure this out. Match that dream scream to one of the wave files. I’m sure Rav has them.” Harlow’s enthusiasm was infectious.
“That.” Wren ran it over in her mind certain it wasn’t going to be quite that easy. But it seemed like a decent enough starting point. “Isn’t a half bad idea.”
Somnia Online
Exodus Guild Raid - Illinish Threshold
Day Twenty
Masha didn’t even want to dig through his inventory to try and figure out just how many more health potions he had on him. At this rate, they were going to have to access the guild bank from this dungeon. Surely it hadn’t taken Spiral this long in here? Maybe that was why they hadn’t heard of them until they defeated this dungeon, though.
Jirald had overdone the explosives when he blew up the beast. So much that they hadn’t realized what they thought were remnants of them lying around on the staircase. Several of them hadn’t exploded yet. That was, until people got in their proximity and set them off. The amount of people they lost initially was excruciating.
Nearing level forty, even the fifty percent experience return that some resurrections could give made each defeat excruciating. It had taken them so long to find everyone. Several of them had taken shifts to log out and sleep, while the others kept the raid live in-game so it wouldn’t disband and kick them all from the dungeon.
If it even worked like that in this world. He wasn’t about to test the theory.
Right now, Masha wasn’t even sure this game knew how a game worked.
The giant mouth monster had scattered them far and wide in this haunted, shitty city far beneath the surface. The cleric assumed there was a way to get down it without being tossed like garbage, but thanks to Jirald and his explosions, they’d not managed to enter that way.
Which set them back days.
Masha couldn’t help the flush of irritation at the fact that they didn’t have a necromancer at a high enough level yet to summon with a coffin and join them on the raid.
“You look positively irritated,” Ishwa commented, still frowning at his staff that had broken in the initial fall. While it was roughly put back together, it lacked its former finesse. Patching it up on site hadn’t done it justice.
“I am,” Masha answered, keeping it short. If he didn’t, he was going to lose his temper, and that wasn’t something he could afford right then. Jirald kept taking off down tunnels and sneaking back to report what he’d seen. Each time, Masha wanted to shackle him to a wall and barely resisted doing so.
“If it wasn’t for that little shit…” Ishwa left it hanging and wiggled his eyebrows for effect.
“Shut up. We all know it. And one of these days he’s going to encounter someone who will take him down a peg.” Masha was fairly certain it would either be himself or Murmur who finally did it.
Thing was, with some of Jirald’s skills, Masha had begun to doubt his certainty about the winner. If he hit all of his criticals? Jirald was near unbeatable. Ever since he’d switched focus from being upset at his class to mastering his class—the change was visible.
“Are we ready then?” Ishwa skillfully changed the subject with a bit of a side-eye that Masha chose to ignore.
“About as good as we’re going to get. They’ve managed to find Ricu’s body and drag it back here. Should be resurrecting it shortly. That boulder trap should have been easy to spot.” Masha sighed and wondered for the five hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours why he played these games anymore. He’d retired; he didn’t have to do anything. And yet, he found himself drawn to playing, leading, healing…
“You’re doing great. I told you you’d make a better leader than me.” Ishwa grinned. “But I get all the glory because you’re modest.”
The gnome’s eyes grew distant, like he was thinking over something important. “Keep an eye on him. Not that it’ll do any good. He does what he wants.” Ishwa reached up on his toes and patted Masha’s back before walking over to some of the other ranged damage dealers.
Masha sighed, and scanned the small area for Jirald. It was as good a time as any to talk to him. It took him a while to spot the rogue, cloaked in shadows as he was. He rested up above the group’s heads, on a boulder that jutted out from the side of the cavern they found themselves in. By the looks of things, there was a narrow ledge between the wall and the rounded side of the rock. Jirald almost blended with the shadows there.
A wave of irritation swept over Masha as he approached Jirald hiding in plain sight. Maybe it was this dungeon, or the way they’d landed in it, or perhaps even the fact that yet again, Jirald had disregarded common sense, but Masha’s patience was about at its limit.
“Get down,” he commanded in a soft voice that carried a weight of anger behind it.
Jirald’s head snapped toward the sound, and a cheeky grin crossed his face before he slid down the boulder and landed lightly on his feet in front of Masha. “What’s up, old man?”
Masha remembered to breathe before replying. “Keep close, be effective, and for once, pay attention to the directions you’re given. We’re not going through another experience like this.”
“Aw.” Jirald’s response was expectedly flippant. “Didn’t enjoy that little bit of flying?”
“You know as well as I do that we’ve just wasted over twenty-four hours without any progression. Officially behind both Spiral and Fable. It’s not where I wanted to be, and I know it’s not where you aimed for.” Masha watched as Jirald’s face contorted with frustration at the reminder. Shadows played across the alien visage, lending a macabre sensation to the expression.
“We’ll catch up. I have no doubt.” Jirald snapped the words out, refusing to make eye contact with Masha.
“Of course we will.” Masha left the words hanging there. They both knew at this rate they were only going to catch up when no one could level any further. This was probably going to be another game that hit max level only to stagnate into boredom like every other recent attempt.
Masha cleared his throat
and looked around at his sorry band of adventurers. “Okay, all. Let’s move deeper into the dungeon. This time, watch out for obvious traps thanks.”
A few mutterings followed him as he began to move the group forward.
“Yeah, Ricu.”
“Did you hear that, Ricu?”
Masha let them have it. Considering how long it had taken to retrieve that corpse, Ricu deserved a bit of riling up. They walked quietly, using Jirald’s shadow shielding for protection from any unwanted attacks. Crags of rock hung down in odd places, like something had bitten its way through the tunnels. There was nothing truly natural about them.
Water trickled somewhere close to them; he could hear it running over rocks. No one spoke, but everyone’s gaze held a fragment of caution. Even Jirald’s. Moving forward, Masha strained his ears, sure he could hear something.
The sloshing moved closer and closer. Or at least, they moved closer and closer to it. Masha and Jirald led the way, only to stop several feet further on in. Right in front of them was a huge underground lake, the water lapping at the edges to reveal dark, sparkling sand as it retreated. It spanned such a vast distance that it was difficult to see the shore on the other side of it.
The water looked serene and dark in the cavern light. Perfectly black except where a beam of moonlight shone down from a tiny hole up the top, illuminating something wet and round in the middle.
Deep purples, blues, and greens ran through it, like some heretofore undiscovered opal that tempted the moonlight. Except it was slimy, and it had tentacles and two tiny eyes right down in front.
The massive octopus flailed its tentacles as it rose, splashing the entire raid with thick black water. It towered above them like a twenty-story building, and then it opened its mouth, gaping with oily darkness, and roared.
Summers Residence
Home of Laria, David, and Wren
Real World - Day Twenty