Overworld (Dragon Mage Saga Book 1): A fantasy post-apocalyptic story

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Overworld (Dragon Mage Saga Book 1): A fantasy post-apocalyptic story Page 6

by Rohan M Vider


  … loading Trials Key successful. Basic interface installed. Analysing host entity…

  My mouth dropped open, leaving me to gape foolishly at the text superimposed on my sight. It was as if a window had unfurled in my mind and the words spilled out.

  Before I could make sense of the words, the Key in my hand grew hotter and further tendrils of energy drove into my body.

  Analysis complete: host complies with all requirements. Entity identified as: Jameson Sinclair. Planet of origin: Earth. Species: human. Age: 24 years. Designation: Candidate, suitable for entry into the Trials.

  Core ready for installation.

  What is this? I wondered. The Trials? Had I already been made into a player? Distracted by the Key’s strange effect, I was slow in reacting when the shaman raised his hand. Seemingly in response to the orc’s gesture, the runes on the Key lifted off and seeped into my skin.

  I blinked in bewilderment. The runes were inside me. I could feel them. In a slow march, they made their way through my palm, up my hand, and into my head.

  I swayed again. My head felt fuzzy. More runes gathered in my mind, increasing my sense of disorientation, and I shuddered.

  What’s happening to me?

  Runes poured into my head, until it seemed as if my awareness was bursting with them. They formed into patterns—patterns whose forms I felt on the edge of understanding.

  I strained to focus. The runes began to make sense. Almost… I grasped their meaning. Then, the last rune entered my mind.

  And my consciousness exploded.

  Trials Key activated by shaman Kagan Firespawn. Commencing Trials core installation…

  Core embedded…

  Player basic data updated…

  Species Traits unlocked…

  Language: Overworld standard loaded…

  Temple access granted…

  Status updated…

  Verifying configuration…

  Core installation done: Induction completed.

  I doubled over and gasped for breath. My heart thudded and my pulse felt like it was stuttering. I felt different.

  Energised.

  Depleted.

  My awareness expanded. I was not alone in my mind anymore. Something else was in me.

  I sensed a connection… to something other, something that brushed the edges of my mind, a great nebulous… machine?

  It is the Trials, I realised.

  That was what I sensed—the Trials and its roots in my mind. I shivered. The Trials had been just an abstract concept when I read of it in the wiki. Now, feeling its interface reside in my mind and its tendrils coursing through my body, I realised how other it was.

  What is it? A being… an entity… a machine?

  I wasn’t sure. Whatever the Trials was, it was so foreign I could scarcely comprehend it.

  And now I am connected to it forevermore.

  More words appeared in my vision. Straightening from my bent-over posture, I raised a tentative hand to my head as I read the message.

  Introductory message: Jameson (Jamie) Sinclair, welcome to the Trials. Venture into Overworld to attain your true potential. Henceforth all your actions will be measured and weighed, and you will be rewarded or penalised accordingly.

  Accumulate experience and accomplish deeds of greatness, and you shall be rewarded with gifts of knowledge. Fail to do so, and you will find the Trials unforgiving.

  Checking status…

  Induction: completed.

  Initiation: outstanding.

  Enter a gate to complete your player configuration and become a full player. Current designation: Inductee, a player of level zero and rank zero. Experience, Attributes, and Disciplines locked.

  Evaluating Potentials…

  Your Might is: mediocre, your Craft is: gifted, your Resilience is: exceptional, and your Magic is: extraordinary.

  I lowered my hand and pushed it experimentally through the translucent text hovering before me.

  “What is it?” I asked, needing confirmation—even if it was from an orc—that I wasn’t going mad and that what I was seeing was real.

  “That is your welcome to the Trials,” said the shaman with a grunt. After a sidelong glance at the orcs behind him, he lowered his voice. “Now, accept the oath.”

  “What?” I asked in confusion, not knowing what he meant. But a moment later, it became horridly clear as another message opened.

  Contract initiated: Shaman Kagan Firespawn has offered to take you under his wing as his: slave. Accepting the contract shall bind you in perpetuity to the shaman’s service. In return, the shaman offers you: a master’s protection.

  As a slave, your free will shall be leashed. If you disobey your master, attempt to abdicate your oath, or earn his wrath, you shall be punished by debilitating negative Traits.

  Do you accept Kagan Firespawn’s contract of service?

  “No!” I refuted, snarling in fury. The text disappeared and I turned a frosty glare upon the shaman.

  “Don’t be a fool, human!” Kagan said, casting another nervous glance behind him.

  What is he worried about? I wondered.

  “I will be a better master than you could ever hope to find in the Orcish Federation. Now accept the oath!”

  The message window appeared anew, asking me again to pledge my soul to the foul creature. “No,” I said, louder this time and shaking my head in refusal. Never. Never would I pledge myself to one of these monsters.

  Yarl stepped forward. “Shaman, is everything alright? What is taking so long?” His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the golden disk in my hand, now free of runes. “What are you doing, Kagan?” he asked softly, his voice heavy with menace.

  Kagan snatched the blank Trials Key from my hand before hurriedly stepping back. “Nothing,” he said. “Let’s get going.”

  But the shaman’s denials only served to confirm Yarl’s suspicions. “Halt, Shaman!” he ordered. Striding forward, he shoved his face into Kagan’s face. “I am not the fool you think me, Kagan. You’ve bonded the human to your personal service, haven’t you?”

  Caught up in their feud, the two forgot about me. I glanced at the box lying less than a foot away from me. Setting aside the strangeness of the Trials and the changes it had wrought in me, I focused fully on the present. Here was my chance, I thought as I inched my hand towards the crate.

  “What? No!” replied Kagan. Realising his earlier error, the shaman did not back down from Yarl’s challenge. Leaning in towards the pack leader, Kagan breathed heavily into his face. “Don’t seek to question me, Yarl. Don’t forget your place.”

  My hand reached the edge of the crate. Carefully, without turning my gaze away from either of the two arguing orcs, I searched out one of the grenades within.

  “It is you who have forgotten your place, Kagan. You have no right to take on slaves. Nor is it your place to keep my men here waiting for hours while you enacted your own foolish gambit. Were your earlier words even true? Was the human actually too unfit to travel the gate? Or just too far gone to make his pledge to you?”

  Kagan’s face drained of colour but he said nothing.

  My hand found one of the explosives and withdrew it. None of the orcs were paying me the least bit of attention. Under the misconception that the shaman had already bound me to his service, they appeared confident of my inability to harm them.

  Indeed, the orc warriors seemed deaf to anything but the drama playing out between their leaders. Even the artillery fire still raining down from the sky did not draw more than a passing glance.

  The pack leader took the shaman’s silence as confirmation of guilt. “You took a foolish risk, Shaman, and for what? To further your power by binding the human directly to yourself. I will make sure the warlord’s commanders hear of this when we get back!”

  I cradled the grenade gently in my hands as I ran over my plan. Pull the firing pin. Toss it back in the crate. Then
run. Honestly, the running bit was optional.

  It was unlikely that I would escape the resulting explosion, and I didn’t really care. My purpose, my only purpose, was to kill Mum’s killers. And if I had to die doing it, then so be it. Turning back to the orcs, I waited for my moment.

  “You don’t know what you are talking about, Yarl,” snarled the shaman, but even I could hear the lie in his words.

  Yarl laughed. “We shall see, Kagan. We shall see.”

  It was time. Smiling a bloodthirsty grin, I pulled the pin and tossed the grenade. It was a perfect throw and the explosive landed squarely within the box.

  I took off running.

  Well, it was more of an unsteady lurch than a run, really. But the orcs were slow in responding. The first to react had only begun to turn my way when I reached the fire shield’s boundary.

  Staggering through, I took another three steps before diving to the ground for cover. Behind me, I heard shouted orders as the orcs began to give chase.

  But they were too late.

  With an earthshattering roar, the grenade detonated. A rippling series of concussive blasts followed close on its heels as the other explosives detonated as well.

  In my mind, another kind of explosion erupted as a flood of Trials messages scrolled across my dazed sight.

  Kagan Firespawn, a level 201 Veteran player, has died.

  Yarl Sharptooth, a level 130 Seasoned player, has died.

  An unknown orc, a level 104 Seasoned player, has died.

  An unknown orc, a level 108 Seasoned player, has died.

  An unknown orc, a level 105 Seasoned player, has died.

  You have gained: 0 experience, and advanced: 0 levels.

  Anomalous results detected. Analysing events for irregularities...

  Players identified...

  Non-combatants counted…

  Location established...

  Fatalities confirmed…

  Battle results verified. Anomalies found: 1, Jameson Sinclair has not achieved full player designation. Recalculating player achievements…

  You have killed your first player while an Inductee. For this achievement, you have been awarded: an epic Trait.

  You have killed your first Seasoned player while an Inductee. For this achievement, you have been awarded: a legendary Trait.

  You have killed your first Veteran player while an Inductee. For this achievement, you have been awarded: a mythic Trait.

  You are the only player to have slain five Seasoned players while an Inductee. For this achievement, you have been awarded: a unique Trait. Your rewards can be claimed during your Induction.

  Your reprisals against the representatives of the Orcish Federation, and the swift revenge that you enacted, has earned you the Feat: Orcsbane, rank 3, Mortal Foe.

  Feats scale with time and according to your further actions. At rank 3, Orcsbane provides you with the orc hunter, burning brightly, revulsion, and repurpose Techniques.

  Orc hunter: You are aware of any orc that gets within nine feet of yourself.

  Burning brightly: Reveals your presence to any orc that approaches within nine feet.

  Revulsion: You cannot use any goods crafted by orcs.

  Repurpose: You may temporarily subvert orcish structures to your own ends.

  Chapter 8

  12 May: 5 days to Earth’s destruction

  The humans’ technology is strange and admittedly powerful. Yet it will benefit them little on Overworld. Given their technology’s nature, the Trials will not allow it to function. And without the aid of their Earth-forged weapons, the humans are weak and ripe for conquest. We should prepare for immediate invasion once the Arkon Shield falls. —Lilith Smoke, fiendish spymaster.

  Ignoring the Trials’ messages, I rolled over and stared up at the sky, surprised I was still alive.

  It was done.

  I had avenged Mum’s death, and was done with Overworld, the Trials, and the blasted invaders. Nothing else mattered anymore. My purpose was complete and now I could rest.

  Gazing up into the endless blue emptiness of the sky, I found myself wondering at the colour of Overworld’s sky. I dismissed the errant thought in irritation. I would never see it, I was certain. Around me, lay a heavy silence. Even the shelling had stopped.

  I turned my head to stare at the spot where Mum had died. The area was scorched. Both the orcs’ and Mum’s remains had been incinerated by the incredible heat of multiple explosions.

  Goodbye, Mum. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I hope you find peace, wherever you are.

  As I looked upon the burned ground and floating ash, I noticed with only mild surprise that the charred earth was neatly contained within a uniform circle. The boundary of the shaman’s fire shield, I guessed.

  I likely owed my survival as much to Kagan’s shield as to my own half-hearted attempts at escape. It had contained the explosion’s fury just as completely as it had repelled the mortar fire.

  I frowned. But why, then, had I been able to move through the field? I shrugged away the mystery. It didn’t matter. Someone else could figure it out, I thought, returning to my contemplation of the sky.

  My phone rang.

  I ignored it, but it kept ringing. Groaning in annoyance, I pulled it out of my pocket and stared at the caller ID. It was Eric. I considered cutting the call. My purpose was done. I had my revenge. There was no reason for me to keep going.

  But it was Eric and he deserved better from me. I answered the call. “Eric,” I greeted.

  “Jamie. Thank God! Are you alright! What am I saying? Of course, you are not! I’m sorry—”

  “Eric,” I said slowly, interrupting his rapid-fire flow of words. “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you be in Overworld already?”

  “You’re right, I should be, but we ran into some unexpected delays. But none of that is important now. I saw what happened to your mum. Jamie, I am so sorry. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

  “What do you mean you saw?” I asked, my thoughts still sluggish. Is Eric here? I wondered, looking around.

  Eric fell momentarily silent. “Jamie, are you injured?” he asked, his voice heavy with concern. “You don’t sound alright.”

  I laughed hollowly. “No, Eric. I am not alright. My Ma is dead.”

  “I know, man. I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  I shoved back the upswell of grief that threatened at the sympathy in Eric’s voice. “Where are you?” I asked, changing the topic.

  “In my apartment, watching you on the news.”

  “On the news?” I repeated, bewildered.

  “That’s right. The whole world saw you kill those five orcs. Right now, the internet is exploding in celebration. You’ve just shown everyone that those bastards are not invincible. I’m proud of you, man.”

  I bit back another grim laugh. Eric didn’t deserve my mockery. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Earth is doomed. Humanity too, probably. But save yourself, Eric. Go to Overworld, and build a new life for yourself and Emma.”

  “We plan to. We were just above to leave.” He paused. “What about you?”

  I shook my head, even though Eric couldn’t see it. “My fight is done. Mum is gone and I’ve avenged her death. There is no reason for me to go on.”

  The phone filled with the sound of heavy breathing as Eric felt silent. But only for a second. A moment later, the call erupted with hissing as Emma and Eric whispered furiously in the background. Then Eric returned. “Jamie are you still there?”

  I almost smiled. Where else would I be? “I’m here, bud.”

  “Don’t give up, my friend. Please.”

  “I don’t know how to go on, Eric.”

  “I know.” He paused, and even without being able to see him I knew my friend well enough to know that he was biting his lips as he pondered his next words. “But there are more orcs, you know.”

  I lifted the phone and st
ared at it for second, before returning it to my ear. “What do you mean?” I asked slowly.

  “Those five orcs you killed, they aren’t the ones really responsible for your mum’s death, Jamie,” Eric said softly. “That’s Duskar and the entire Orcish Federation. If you want justice for your mum you will kill them all.”

  I fell silent as I chewed on Eric’s words. They were crazy—ludicrous, even. To declare war on the entire Orcish Federation? A nation that even the other overworlders seemed to fear? I chuckled hoarsely. Only Eric would suggest something so outrageous. Or have faith in me accomplishing such a feat.

  But he had a point.

  Had I really avenged Mum? Yarl and Kagan had only been the instruments of her death. The ones really responsible were Duskar and his warlords. The seeds of doubt planted by Eric flowered into raging discontent.

  I had not done enough.

  Dissatisfaction lay heavy in the pit of my stomach. My friend was right. There were more orcs to kill. And while that remained true, I could not simply lie down and die.

  I heaved myself upright. “Eric, my friend, you are a real son of a bitch, you know that?”

  Eric chuckled. “Someone’s got to beat you straight,” he said, trying to hide the palpable relief in his voice. “What are you going to do now?”

  “I’m going to enter the gate,” I said as I stumbled to my feet. “Thanks, Eric.”

  “My pleasure, Jamie.”

  “And Eric?”

  “Yeah, Jamie?”

  “Make sure to get your ass there too, alright.”

  “Will do, bud. Will do.”

  ✽✽✽

  I limped forward, the silence around me complete. It was still morning, I noted absently.

  None of the townsfolk who had fled at the orcs’ appearance had returned. Off to my left, in the far distance, I made out a few watching figures. The militia, I thought, waving absently. None waved back.

  I shrugged and continued onwards. As I walked, thoughts of Mum intruded. I shoved them aside. I couldn’t think of her. Not now. It hurt too much.

  To keep my mind occupied, and distract myself from the grief that sat heavy on my heart, I focused on the Trials and its recent flood of messages.

 

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