Awaken Online (Book 3): Evolution

by Bagwell, Travis

  “I will not die, here. Not like this!” the beast screamed, struggling to pull its burning body out of the flames.

  Jason wouldn’t let him. Ignoring the fire that singed his skin, he stood over Rupert and slammed his shield against the creature’s face again and again and again, blood spraying in every direction.

  It wasn’t until he felt Riley’s hand on his shoulder that Jason finally stopped. He flinched under her touch, lowering his bloody shield slowly. “It’s over,” she said. “He’s dead.”

  Jason stood there, his chest heaving as he stared down at Rupert’s ruined face, his rage-filled blows having reduced the creature’s disgusting, demonic features to a bloody pulp. The monster’s body lay unmoving, his skin black and scarred by the fire.

  “And Frank?” Jason asked.

  “He’s dead, so my guess is that he respawned in the temple,” Riley answered quietly.

  Jason turned, taking in the destroyed kitchen. Pots and pans were strewn about the room, and they had overturned nearly every table, blood coating most surfaces. Eliza stood with her sheep, petting Fluffy as he danced around her enthusiastically – proud of his contribution in slaying the demonic cook.

  “Are you okay?” Riley asked tentatively.

  “I’m fine,” Jason said, yet his answer rang hollow. He wasn’t fine. He hadn’t been fine for a long time. This was just another ridiculous situation piled on top of the endless stream of crap that both his real life and this game world seemed to heap on him.

  “You don’t look fine,” Riley replied, her words echoing his thoughts and her fingers still lingering on his shield arm. “It looks like you screwed up your arm royally,” she added as she inspected his wounds.

  The metal of his shield had been caved in so that the material now wrapped around Jason’s forearm, essentially locking it in place. He could also still feel the dull throb that was the game’s way of telling him that his arm was broken. Riley gingerly pulled at the metal, slowly removing it from his arm and revealing his battered and bruised flesh.

  “Jesus,” she hissed when she saw his arm. “Here, drink this,” she offered, handing him a healing potion. “Apparently, the Hippie didn’t steal all of our equipment and Eliza had a few spares.”

  “Thank you,” Jason replied, tugging out the stopper with his teeth and downing the contents. His arm immediately began to heal – the bones in his forearm snapping back into place and his flesh knitting itself back together.

  As Riley moved to step away, Jason stopped her. “And thanks, Riley. For everything. I know I’ve been more sullen and reserved than usual lately. I’ve just been dealing with a lot.”

  “I know,” she answered, meeting his gaze and pushing a few tendrils of blonde hair out of her eyes. For a moment, Jason felt an odd pang. She looked weary and battle-worn, sweat and droplets of blood staining her clothes. She still looked beautiful. This was Riley in her element – not wearing some chainmail bikini or a school uniform. This was the real Riley. Someone who could slay monsters and didn’t flinch away from his injuries.

  Someone who always had his back.

  “What is it?” Riley asked, her eyes searching his. Her face hovered only a few inches away, and Jason’s mouth suddenly felt dry.

  Jason was about to reply when the Hippie suddenly interrupted, his disembodied voice echoing through the room. “Well, that was an exciting, climactic conclusion to our play! You all were victorious!”

  With a snap of the irritating god’s fingers, the kitchen began to dissolve around them, and Rupert’s body disintegrated. A moment later, they were all standing back onstage in the auditorium. A roar of sound reverberated through the stone amphitheater, and the source soon became apparent. The Hippie stood in the stands along with the rest of his undead audience, their decaying hands clapping rhythmically as they gave the group a standing ovation. Even Felix clapped his skeletal little paws from his perch on the Hippie’s shoulder.

  Jason glanced around the stage in confusion, noticing that all of his teammates were present. He hesitated as he noticed Frank standing nearby, his burly arms crossed, and a frown plastered on his face as he glared at the Hippie. He nodded at Jason when he noticed him watching. “I’m glad that crazy plan worked,” he said quietly as the applause continued. “Otherwise we were all toast. Maybe literally,” he added with a small smile.

  Jason returned his grin, sparing an awkward look at Riley who still stood beside him. Her attention was now on their undead audience. The moment had passed.

  Leave it to the Hippie to ruin everything, Jason thought bitterly.

  “Encore, encore!” the Hippie shouted.

  “Not a chance in hell,” Frank shouted back.

  “Now that’s not the sort of demeanor we would expect from the cast. Take a bow, relax. You should be reveling in this moment,” the Hippie replied, his voice magically enhanced so that it boomed through the room.

  “Speaking of which,” the god continued, “We should celebrate the MVP of our story, our very own Fluffy! Give him a hand, folks!”

  The black sheep peeked out from behind Eliza, glaring at the Hippie. He gave a soft snort and turned his back on the capricious god. Apparently, he also hadn’t enjoyed being inserted into the Hippie’s crazy play.

  “Ahh, don’t be that way, Fluffy!” the Hippie exclaimed, waving at the undead to stop clapping.

  “Do you really blame him?” Eliza demanded, sounding uncharacteristically angry as she petted Fluffy’s head reassuringly. “You did direct a play about a crazy demonic chef that wanted to devour a flock of sheep.”

  The god’s normally carefree expression sobered as silence slowly descended upon the amphitheater. “Hmph. Some people just don’t appreciate the fine arts.

  “Anyway,” the Hippie continued, waving at the group with a dismissive hand. “As I said before, you should be celebrating. You just defeated the second-floor guardian of my temple!” A small smile curled the corners of the god’s lips. “Besides, you should savor this moment. I expect the next and final encounter will be a bit more challenging.”

  Chapter 26 - Depleted

  “Sweep the houses on both sides of the street,” Alexion shouted. “Take the low-born captive and deliver them to the nephilim to take back to the platform. Move quickly! We don’t have long!”

  Full night had descended upon Vaerwald and flames were wrapped around his Confessors’ fists, the dancing light illuminating a chaotic scene taking place on the mage city’s lower levels. Alexion’s guildmates and Confessors leaped to follow his orders, breaching the houses on either side of the street in a flash of flame and a crash of wood. Screams erupted from the interior of the buildings as his men pulled families from their homes. Anyone who resisted was immediately cut down, their blood soon staining the dusty streets.

  Alexion was unperturbed by the violence around him. In fact, the void in the back of his mind thrummed with pleasure as his troops bound his future sacrifices and moved them back along the disc to where they had left their platform.

  “How long until the fire guild guards show up?” Alexion demanded of Gracien who stood beside him. The normally surly mage’s face was clouded as he watched the city’s low-born residents being pulled from their homes. “Gracien!” Alexion shouted, trying to snap the mage out of whatever fugue had overcome him.

  “I have delayed our forces and sabotaged the tube system,” Gracien answered, his voice rough and uneven. “We should have nearly an hour before the city’s forces show up.”

  “Plenty of time,” Alexion murmured, ignoring the mage’s sudden reluctance. It was too late to back out now. Gracien had made his choice, and he would have to live with the consequences.

  Caerus came trotting up, two nephilim guards in tow. “Sir,” he greeted Alexion with a nod.

  “How is it going?” Alexion demanded.

  “We have already captured nearly a hundred civilians,” Caerus reported. “As you ordered, we have been planting the occasional undead corpse among the build
ings.”

  “And the witnesses?” Alexion asked. Their plan relied on pinning this act purely on Jason. Their goal was to make Vaerwalds’ council think that this was a raid to capture corpses to increase the Twilight Throne’s population.

  “We have been slaying any residents that resist and Tom’s group has been dedicated to picking off any stragglers that may be out late at night. However, the noise of our attack is impossible to ignore. The rest of this level may respond soon, and it will be impossible to hide our presence.”

  “There are just too many people. These lowborn breed like rabbits,” Gracien interjected. “As I’ve explained, there will be witnesses. These old buildings are riddled with hidden compartments used for hiding contraband.”

  “Damn it,” Alexion muttered. He needed their story to hang together, and he had badly underestimated the population density of the mage city’s bottom level.

  How am I going to fix this? Alexion thought.

  The world around him stuttered, and red notifications flashed in his vision. For a moment, he saw a female form dressed in a white hospital gown weaving in between his troops as they ran through the street – seemingly unaware of the woman’s presence.

  As Alexion watched in fascination, the woman slowly stooped and picked up a stray torch before walking to one of the buildings and resting the flames against the home’s dry, ancient boards. The fire immediately began to spread, hungrily devouring the wood. Within moments, the building was a raging inferno, and the flames had started to spread to the nearby structures.

  The figure then turned back to Alexion, her face obscured by her hair and blue veins running along her pale skin. In a flash, she rushed toward Alexion until she was standing only a few inches away. “Let them burn. Let them all burn,” his mother whispered.

  “Are you alright, sir?” Caerus asked.

  As soon as the noble spoke, Alexion’s mother vanished. He blinked rapidly in confusion, glancing around the street. The flames were gone, and the buildings were still intact. Yet his mother’s message had been clear. He couldn’t leave any survivors that might tell a different story – he didn’t have any other choice.

  “Tell the Confessors…” Alexion began, his voice harsh, “Tell them to burn it down. Burn it all down. We can’t leave any witnesses.”

  “What are you thinking?” Gracien demanded, whirling on Alexion and his eyes angry. “This wasn’t part of the plan! You run the risk of the fires destroying the entire level.”

  “We are adapting to the circumstances,” Alexion responded in a cold voice, turning to look at the fire mage master. “We have no other choice at this stage.”

  “Adapting? The fires will destroy any evidence of the undead. How will we pin this on the Twilight Throne?” Gracien slammed his staff into the ground, his eyes now aglow and flames curling around him. “That was the entire point of this exercise.”

  At a subtle gesture from Alexion, a contingent of nephilim encircled the mage and Caerus drew his blade. “Let me rephrase,” Alexion said calmly. “You can either stand down, or we can ensure there won’t be ‘any’ witnesses – including you.”

  Gracien glared at the soldiers, their spears leveled at him. “You will regret this,” the fire mage master growled, yet his flames were already beginning to recede.

  “I doubt it. Who will believe you if you try to explain what really happened here? Besides, you are just as culpable as we are at this stage,” Alexion replied, turning to look back at his troops scurrying down the street.

  A moment later, one of the ancient buildings was engulfed in flame – the fires spreading rapidly through the dilapidated homes of the lowborn. Soon, most of the bottom level of Vaerwald was in flames, thick smoke drifting into the sky and obscuring the view of the next disc hovering above them. As Alexion looked on, he could feel his mother’s approving hand on his shoulder once more. Nothing would stop him from attaining his goals. Nothing.

  ***

  “Alright folks, the show’s over,” the Hippie said, turning back to the stands and snapping his fingers. The undead lining the rows of stone benches immediately slumped to the ground, their bodies breaking apart in a deafening crescendo of rattling bones.

  “This feels sort of anti-climactic after all that build up and poor rhyming,” Frank grumbled. “Hell, we didn’t even get any loot!”

  “Ahh, that reminds me,” the Hippie replied, walking onto the stage. Frank did a double take, glancing at the stands where the god had been standing only a moment before. It seemed that he could teleport around the temple with ease. “As a reward for participating in our play, we have some prizes! Well, prize – singular. You’ll have to share.”

  The god waved his hand, and a wooden chest appeared onstage. Its surface was nondescript, and the metal bands running along its side were rusted with age. The group eyed it suspiciously, no one moving to open the box. Fluffy actually took a few steps backward.

  “What? What’s wrong?” the Hippie demanded after noticing their reaction.

  “Is it going to explode?” Riley asked. “Or maybe teleport us into the middle of the lizardman camp?”

  “Or summon a horde of undead?” Frank offered.

  “Or drop us into the Tentacle Horror’s cave? Or put me back in a dress?” Eliza grumbled as she adjusted her glasses and watched the chest nervously.

  “Honestly, there’s probably a risk that it turns us all into skeletons,” Jason said. “Could you imagine being stuck here as the Hippie’s enslaved audience?”

  Eliza laughed, trying to smother the sound with her hand when she noticed the water god glaring at her. “You know, you lot are just ungrateful. And after I put you in the limelight. I made you the stars you are! If you are just going to make jokes at my expense, I’ll be off.” With that, the Hippie abruptly vanished, taking Fluffy and Felix with him.

  “I believe we might have upset him,” Jason said with a chuckle.

  “Good, he had it coming,” Frank replied.

  “So… in all seriousness, who’s going to open the chest?” Riley asked.

  “I vote Frank,” Jason offered. “All in favor?” Eliza and Riley immediately stuck their hands in the air, followed closely by Jason.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” Frank asked, eyeing each of them in turn. “Why do I always have to be the guinea pig?”

  “You’re good at it,” Jason replied. “Plus, you’re the least likely to get blown apart.”

  “Cowards,” Frank muttered, stepping carefully over to the chest. The rest of the group took a few steps back as the barbarian’s hand rested on the lid. Without further ado, he flipped open the lid and dove back.

  When no explosions rocked the stage, and the group wasn’t teleported to some random location, Frank lifted himself from the ground and eyed the others sheepishly. He then pulled out the chest’s contents, a leather band with a small bell attached. Frank dangled the necklace, listening to the tinkling sound of the bell.

  “What is it?” Jason asked.

  “A necklace, I guess,” Frank replied in a distracted voice, his eyes scanning a prompt that the rest of the group couldn’t see. “Here,” he offered, handing the necklace to Jason. He quickly inspected the item.

  Beastmaster’s Collar

  This collar is crafted from exquisite leather and merely touching the necklace conjures images of a vast wilderness. The bell is also an excellent touch for recalcitrant teammates. This way, no one in your group will lose you.

  Quality: B

  Durability: 45/50

  +10 Strength

  +5 Vitality

  +5 Endurance

  (Soulbound)

  Grants Passive Skill: Wilderness Lore

  Unlocks the skill, Wilderness Lore, which enables the wearer to obtain detailed information on various animals, including racial abilities and skills.

  Jason had to stifle a laugh as he reviewed the item information and Frank was looking everywhere but at him. “So, this might be an item for Frank,” Jaso
n began slowly. “It looks like it will provide information about various animals, which would probably go well with his shapeshifting abilities.”

  “The bell is a cute addition,” Riley offered diplomatically, a smile creeping across her lips.

  “Oh, shut up,” Frank muttered, snatching the collar back and grudgingly equipping it.

  “It really does look good on you,” Eliza added with a small smile. “It sort of reminds me of Fluffy’s collar.”

  “Not you too,” Frank groaned with a woeful look in the water mage’s direction. “These two are bad enough as it is.”

  As the group continued their banter, Jason took the opportunity to review his remaining notifications. With a swipe of his wrist, he pulled up his prompts.

  Quest Completed: Mary Had a Little Quest

  Your party has completed the Hippie’s mad play – to a standing ovation no less! You all should be proud of your performance, despite the fact that Fluffy sort of stole the limelight. The completion of this quest allows you to proceed to the next level of the temple.

  Difficulty: B

  Success: Deliver the herd safely to the contact in Griswald.

  Failure: Allow any of the sheep to die.

  Reward: Completion of the temple’s second floor.

  x2 Level Up!

  You have (25) undistributed stat points.

  One of the unanticipated downsides of the Hippie’s play was that Jason’s other skills hadn’t advanced. However, a glance at his skill menu and Character Status sheet at least confirmed that he had regained his summoning and casting abilities. He was thankful for that. The experience had proven to him that he had no interest in playing a melee character.

  Perhaps I should give Frank more credit, Jason thought, watching his friends tease each other. Fighting face to face with some of these creatures is terrifying.