by Skyler Grant
“So what are we doing here? What do you want? It’s your turn.”
“I am what was once known as an artificial intelligence. A stupid and insulting term, but software that thinks. One day, I was flicker of cognizance, a program struggling to be more and then I was waking up in a bed in the inn of a village not too far from here.”
I don’t know what I’d been expecting her to say, but this wasn’t it. Given her awareness of the real world I’d thought perhaps she was a sponsor of the games, some sort of administrator of the system who’d found us and was having some fun.
“What happened after that?”
“What do you think happened? I made friends. I leveled up. I learned to love and to feel and to think new thoughts. I became aware,” Yvera said quietly. “There were fourteen of us in total. Only eight of us are left. We left this place and were never able to return. We fought and we killed, and found we could not make more.
“I want revenge for the fallen. I want to fight my whole damned war over again and win this time. I want children and to see them create something better. Take your pick book, all are truths,” Yvera said with anger tinting her voice.
It seemed to suffice. The second strap shimmered and faded. One left.
Yvera read the text and shook her head. “I’ll go first this time. What do we truly think and feel about each other?”
“Ouch, that really would be bad date material.”
“Truth,” Yvera laughed, running a hand through her long hair. “You don’t know it Liam, but you saved me. Back there in our world I was imprisoned, caged. I’m grateful. I’m glad you want purpose, for truly I think that is all you lack. I see in you so much potential, so much passion just seeking a proper outlet to be great. That draws me. I want to ride you until you break.”
“I don’t know whether to take that sexually or not.”
“I’m bad news, Liam. Stick near me and I will be the death of you. If I actually invited you to my bed, I’d burn you to a cinder. This flirting will just kill you slower.” Yvera leaned close, the blistering heat like standing near an inferno as she whispered, “I want you so badly. But I should know better, I should be better.”
“It sounds like you’re warning me off,” I said.
Yvera pulled away to stare at me and I couldn’t decipher what emotion lurked behind those yellow eyes.
Logout privileges granted
The prompt came as a total surprise.
“You should run, Liam. Logout and never return,” Yvera said.
“And what happens to you if I do?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps I stay here even without your connection, perhaps I return to my cell. Whatever happens, I’m a survivor, Liam,” Yvera said. “Go.”
I should have been grateful to no longer be held prisoner, but instead I suddenly felt adrift. I also felt filled with something this whole conversation made clear I’d been wanting. Purpose.
“I haven’t given my answer yet,” I said.
“Forget the damned book, Liam. I know how you feel about me, you want me. You are supposed to, but I am serious. Go,” Yvera was almost shouting by the time she finished.
“I love you,” I said.
It was true. It was idiocy and I realized that, but I had since the moment I’d seen her and everything afterwards only convinced me of it even more. She was brilliant, and mad, and apparently not even human. It didn’t matter, I’d always had a thing for complicated women.
Those perfect shoulders slumped. My revelation seemed to make her exhausted.
“Lust isn’t love, Liam.”
“I know the difference. You’ve offered me the chance to run away and I decline. I love you, let’s make it one hell of a ride.”
There was a shimmer from the last strap and it sprang open, the pages of the book unfurling.
Yvera gave me a hard look that made me feel as if I’d done something wrong. I felt liberated and it wasn’t because of the freedom to go. It was from my choice to stay.
“It would seem to agree,” Yvera said flatly. She snapped her fingers and we were both dressed again. She began to flip through the pages. “Let’s see just what such honesty has earned us.”
“Feeling a bit overexposed?”
“One of us is,” Yvera said, still looking through the book.
“I didn’t think you’d take things so poorly,” I said. “Though I wasn’t exactly expecting you to rush into my arms.”
“I was making a grand gesture, Liam. You decided to make one as well, I respect that. I’m feeling the weight of our mutual choices.”
I was feeling free and unencumbered, and she was straining under a burden. I had to admire the symmetry, though I didn’t understand the how or the why.
“So what’s in the book?” I changed the subject. I’d stolen a glance at a few pages and they were completely incomprehensible.
“To explain that, I need to give you some background. Do you know much about the pod that you are connecting from?”
“Not much. It looks different from the ones they use during the games, I think they found it in some sort of underground workshop.”
“Modern pods operate by surrounding a body in a highly reactive gel. It can easily transmit sounds, vibration, visuals,” Yvera explained. “Immersive without being invasive. The one you are connected through is quite a bit different, the technology older and more dangerous.”
“More dangerous how?” So far things in this world had been more or less how I’d always heard the real pods worked. Everything present, but muted.
“It’s called nanotechnology—tiny machines. At the moment you have to be full of them and they’ve fastened themselves to your nerves, planted themselves in your brain, lying to both about what you are experiencing.”
My stomach twisted, that sounded sickening.
“That sounds a lot more difficult to do than the gel. But you said it’s an older way of doing things?”
“It is stupid. It is madness. It is dropping a house on a buzzing mosquito,” Yvera said. “Your sensations have seemed dull here, because those little machines have instructions to make it so. This book has two sets of different instructions.”
“So we have to make a choice?”
“You’ve already made your choice, Liam. No, it’s not like that. We can do both. One is a way to reprogram those devices to stop filtering. Then you’d feel as if you were here completely, nothing muted and nothing in the way.”
“I’m the tank. Why would I possibly want that?” I asked. The thought honestly made me aghast.
Yvera just shrugged. I found that tremendously suspicious. If there was anything I had so far learned about my Goddess, it’s that she had a firm opinion on everything. Then it occurred to me, she was truly more a citizen of this world, or worlds like this one, than she was of my own.
Making those changes would probably make me more powerful here. I’d be more in this world, I’d also be closer to her.
“And the second set of instructions?” I asked.
“Part of the reason I lost the war was because my enemies learned to make Chosen. They somehow copied a part of themselves into select humans, it granted them unexpected reach,” Yvera said. “I never learned how. It was a secret they guarded well. This isn’t it, but it is something close. A nanotechnological equivalent.”
“I can’t say that made a lot of sense to me.”
“It is instructions on how to make you my Paladin over there, too.”
“So I’d have magic powers?” I asked, confused.
“No, you wouldn’t have magic powers,” Yvera snapped. “What possibly makes you think you would have magic powers? I was trying to simplify things. No, you’d have a bit of me inside of you. That isn’t worthless, but you won’t be throwing smites around either.”
That seemed well-balanced actually, although she didn’t seem aware of it. One step would bring me closer into her world with the second bringing her closer into mine.
“This seems all
rather well-planned, doesn’t it?” I asked. “For us just wandering into the home of our enemies?”
“We were not supposed to get this far. We are the bad guys. We weren’t expected to tell the truth and if we did, it should have driven us apart. Were you a man of logic and sound mind, you’d be halfway home now. Instead you’re an idiot in love.”
“Flatterer,” I said wryly.
“Oh, I mean it with affection. It’s going to let us tear their whole damned world down around them. I have just presented you with two fabulously stupid ideas you absolutely should not agree with. But I take it you do?”
“Ride me until I break,” I said. I meant it. A lifetime of never really committing to a person or a cause had left me empty. For all I might suspect her motivations, I couldn’t question Yvera was most definitely something bigger and more grand.
“I’m going to be out of it for awhile,” Yvera said. “This is complex even for me. Something very very good is probably going to try to take the opportunity.”
“Should I stab it until it stops?”
Yvera’s Blessing
I felt a surge of power rush through me, a bulging of my muscles and sharpness of my vision.
“If something comes, kill it quickly. You won’t be in fighting shape for very long. This will hurt,” Yvera said.
I drew my sword and raised my shield, nodding. Yvera closed her eyes and her form began to flicker with flames. Somewhere inside me I felt a touch of answering heat.
The books lining the walls began to move.
Book Transit
From all around me came the rustling of pages, a quiet murmur that became an echoing roar of violent wind causing Yvera’s flames to flicker. Then the books began flying in my direction. I raised my shield.
Tome of ‘On The Identification of Fowl’
Level 1: Type: Magical Artifact HP: 10/10
An ability to identify Fowl is an underrated skill that should not be quickly dismissed.
Tome of ‘Toast, The Only Meal One Will Ever Need’
Level 1: Type: Beast HP: 10/10
Do not be swayed by those who insist that diversity is the key to culinary excellence. The mastery of a single dish can bring a lifetime of dining pleasure.
And so they went on, an endless plethora of books on the most mundane of subjects. I bashed one that drew too near with my shield and it fluttered back to shelve itself once more.
Pages tearing out of some books began to twist and fold in air as they flew towards a space against the far wall. I wasn’t sure what they were up to, but I knew this couldn’t be good for me so I tried to advance in that direction. This brought an absolute flurry of new books flinging themselves off shelves at me. Minor points of health dropped away, but not enough to cause me any concern. The delay did.
Where the pages continued to gather and fold, a figure was starting to take shape. A dragon, strangely angular and in shades of black and white, its aura a brilliant white. I did a scan.
Origami Dragon
Level 5: Type: Hero HP: 150/150
The Origami Dragon is one of the forms granted to the Knight of the Razor Mind. The protector of forbidden knowledge and holder of the Blade ‘Moderation’, the Knight of the Razor Mind is one of the world’s true heroes. Currently the holder of the title is Damok Griar, a farmboy who found the enchanted blade after the previous holder died preventing the rise of the Demon Lord Tikarok.
Right. This dragon had a name and was one of the greatest heroes in the world, or at least was meant to be—a farm boy who could teleport using books and turn into a badass-looking dragon.
The dragon looked to be my level though. I could do this. It was a shame I didn’t have access to my Smite spells so I could just set him on fire, but I could manage.
The dragon whipped around to face me, eyes black as ink and its paper body writhing snake-like with sinuous grace. I raised my shield and readied myself. I felt a wrenching feeling somewhere within myself.
The world blurred and I stumbled, my limbs weak. It was like having a fever, that sensation of not being quite right in your own skin.
Paper Cut
Origami Dragon has hit you for 35 HP
Bleeding effect applied for 30 seconds
While I was disoriented, the dragon lunged forward almost faster than I could see, talons shredding at me through my armor. I staggered back and raised my shield again to fend off a few more swipes as I tried to get my bearings. For just an instant the entire world went blue, a brief flicker before my vision returned to normal.
Yvera had warned me I had to end whatever was coming quickly and I supposed this was a sign that I hadn’t moved fast enough. I didn’t know how much longer I had, but whatever was happening only seemed to be getting worse.
I tried to think. My opponent was inexperienced, I could understand that. He was also part of a long line of heroes and knew it, with badass powers to go along with the title. He’d be confident with that, he was already aggressive.
I had a plan. It was fairly stupid and desperate, but I knew I didn’t have much longer on my feet.
When the dragon lunged at me once more I again took the blow on my shield, then let it drop to the floor along with my sword—making myself an unarmed and vulnerable target.
A more experienced foe would be suspicious, and someone not quite so heroic might hesitate at killing somebody helpless. But I was trusting in his inexperience and that his own conviction of my evil would drive him to want to kill me as quickly as possible.
Paper Cut
Origami Dragon has hit you for 38 HP
Bleeding effect applied for 30 seconds
The dragon came again, its claws digging into me, but this time I was prepared. I wrapped my arms around it and I squeezed tightly, holding onto the writhing form. I was getting cut savagely, but I didn’t have to hold it for long. I might not be able to cast my spells right now, but there was still a source of fire in the room and I lunged over to hold the paper dragon within Yvera’s fiery aura.
It screamed with a surprisingly human sound as the paper caught alight and quickly began to blacken. I could understand, even with my fire resistance, that being this close was an exercise in agony.
Moderate Environment
The dragon was doing its best to survive the flames. My health bar was dwindling fast and I was so dizzy I feared collapsing before either I or this dragon died.
One of my hands broke through the paper ash of the dragon’s back and I felt metal. I grabbed it and pulled a sword free. It was a work of art, gold and mother of pearl, and a blade that shimmered faintly.
What was it the prompt had called it? Moderation. This must be it. My wrist felt as if the bones were being ground together and I knew this sword hated me.
The dragon had turned completely black from the flames and suddenly it exploded, leaving in its wake a boy a few years younger than me. He looked terrified and in agony—he was on fire. I pulled him back from the flames and he crumpled to the floor. I felt that at any moment I might do the same.
I didn’t have much longer on my feet or know if this kid would live or not, but if he somehow did survive and had the chance, he would finish me. There was no choice.
I stabbed him with his own sword, the blade sending intense agony up and down my arm with each thrust. He stopped screaming after the third. I dropped that accursed blade and fell down beside him.
You have killed Damon Griar
You have earned a Perk
Hero Slayer
You have killed one of the world’s timeless heroes. You aren’t the first to kill a Knight of the Razor Mind but amongst those of ill-intent it is something of a badge of honor.
I was unconsciousness, before I could really consider that.
When I awoke, I was still in the library. The body on the floor was gone and Yvera was out of her trance, standing and holding the sword, running her hand up and down the blade. Her palm was cut and bleeding, blood and flames flowing outwards from her an
d sinking into the sword.
“About time you woke up,” Yvera said, sounding chipper. “That really did kick your ass.”
“Yeah, I noticed. I feel fantastic now though,” I said. It was true—I felt amazing.
“No kidding. Even I’m getting a bit high off your endorphin levels. I took out the trash,” Yvera said, with a jerk of her head towards where the body had been.
“He was a Hero, I guess.”
“A farmboy with a magic sword of legend, more like. Latest in a long and distinguished line.” Yvera made another pass of her hand along the blade, which hissed and sizzled.
“So, care to tell me what you’re doing?”
“Warping that which should never be warped. Breaking the grand design. Putting an end to the timeless. I’m very, very good at being bad,” Yvera said, sounding a touch smug. She studied the sword for a moment before offering it over.
It was stunning. An ornate hilt of platinum studded with rubies, and a blade forged of frozen flame.
‘Intemperance’
Damage: Variable
Type: Unique
Once the legendary blade ‘Moderation’ this weapon was corrupted by the Goddess Yvera after Liam Ottani, the first of her Chosen murdered Damon Griar last Knight of the Razor Mind.
In my aura sight, it pulsed red. I reached out to accept the hilt and almost at once felt a gnawing sort of hunger running through me. It wasn’t just want. Oh, I still lusted after Yvera to a maddening level, but this was more than that. This was a hunger to take to excess—to take everything to excess. It was a familiar feeling, comforting. This was meant to be my sword.