Her mother chuckled. “Assuming he can get the New York Times to pick it up. It might take a few phone calls to make that happen, though. I wish they would start selecting books based solely on sales, but I guess there’s no way to avoid politics in any industry.”
Riley suppressed a sigh as she made herself some tea. She had heard this debate before. It was nothing new in their household. Her father wrote self-help books. The book sales were nothing to sneer at, but it was the television appearances and presentations where he made his real money. His was a rags-to-riches story that happened to sell quite well.
“I’m sure the book will do great, dad,” Riley finally responded. “It’s not like you had any trouble with the last few.”
“You never know, the next one could be a flop,” he replied with a worried look.
As her father continued rambling on about his book, her mother’s eyes followed Riley as she walked around the kitchen. Her mother was a retired psychiatrist, although she still occasionally saw patients. Her brown hair was starting to gray, and wrinkles tugged at the corners of her eyes, yet she was still beautiful. She embraced her age with a poise Riley hoped she could muster one day.
Her mother rested a hand on her father’s thigh, quieting his rant. “Is there something wrong, dear?” she asked, directing her question at Riley.
Riley gritted her teeth at her mother’s perceptiveness. She didn’t know how to answer and complaining just felt petty and stupid. Shouldn’t she be able to put up with some teasing?
She set her mug on the counter and stared at the bag that bobbed in the steaming water. She wanted to tell them that she was fine – that she was just feeling down. Yet wasn’t that what had gotten her into this predicament in the first place? She had hyped up Alex’s threat in her own mind and never stopped to think about how her parents could help.
Just do it, she urged herself.
“Yeah,” Riley finally said. Her eyes rose to meet her parents. “Something is wrong. I hate my school.”
Her father’s eyes widened. “Richmond? What’s wrong with school? I thought you were getting along fine there. Is it that boy again?” His expression darkened with anger as he referred to Alex. He still couldn’t quite make himself say his name.
“In a way, yes.” She held up her hands to ward off their follow-up questions. “He hasn’t posted the video or anything, but he doesn’t have to. Rumors still work just as well. The things the other girls say…”
Riley’s hands clenched around her mug. The heat burned the palms of her hands, grounding her. It wasn’t the same as her dark mana, but it helped. “I just can’t take it anymore. It’s never ending. The names and the hateful things they say to me; that they do to me. How do you think this really happened to my shin?” she asked, lifting her leg.
Her parents were silent for a long moment, as though mulling over how to respond. Then her mother spoke up, “Why didn’t you tell us sooner, Riley? We didn’t realize the kids were bullying you like this.”
“It just sounds so stupid it when I say it out loud,” she muttered. “It feels like all I do is cause problems. First with Alex and now this.”
Her mother rose, circling the island and wrapping her arms around Riley. “Never feel afraid to come to us. We’re always here for you. Besides, you didn’t cause either situation. There are just terrible people in the world.”
Her father cleared his throat. “I agree with your mother. We’re definitely on Team Riley, but what’s the solution here? You need to finish out the year. You only have eight months left, and graduating from Richmond carries a lot of weight with your college applications.”
“I know,” Riley murmured into her mom’s sweater. She pulled back and shook her head, wiping at the tears budding at the corners of her eyes. “That’s the worst part. I don’t have a solution. Just endure it I guess…”
Her mother glanced at her father, anger flashing in her eyes. “I wouldn’t normally suggest this, especially not with a patient.” Her mother lifted Riley’s chin with one hand until she met her gaze. “I could tell you that you ‘need to stand up for yourself,’ but that’s not enough. Honestly, as your parent, you need to get even.”
Riley looked at her mother in shock, not certain how to respond. Her mother kept going, “These girls are bullies. So was that disgusting boy Alex. At the end of the day, they’ll only respond to one thing. Strength. You need to show them that you aren’t afraid of them. If it were only one girl, that would be one thing. But you need to find a way to send a clear message to the rest of these kids.”
Her father nodded and let out a deep chuckle. “Hell, retaliate physically if you have to. Show them you won’t take their crap, and you aren’t afraid to defend yourself. The school certainly won’t expel you with the fees we pay. I will make certain of that. Plus, George Lane owes me a favor at this point.”
They both looked at her evenly. “The bottom line is that you have our support Riley,” her father continued. “Sometimes, when your back is to the wall, there’s nothing you can do but fight. This sounds like one of those times.”
Riley just stared at her parents. She hadn’t expected this reaction from them. Her dad was the sort of guy that got up in front of thousands of people and advocated family values – not knocking out your school bully. She had heard him talk about “seizing the moment,” but she was certain this wasn’t what he had meant.
“Don’t look so surprised,” her dad laughed. “We haven’t always been stuffy adults living in a nice house.” He gestured around the kitchen. “We had to fight for what we have. What people don’t like to hear at those presentations I give is that you have to be willing to get dirty if you want to win in this world. There will always be people that try to knock you down, but sometimes you need to be willing to go to the mat.”
Her mother nodded in agreement, her eyes still fuming as she looked at Riley’s bruised leg. “Also, if you get the chance to knock out the girl that did this to you, make sure she doesn’t get back up.”
“I-I will,” Riley said, a small smile creasing her lips. She had completely misread her parents. “Maybe the two of you are right.”
“Hey, we’re the all-knowing parents,” her dad joked. “Of course we’re right.” Riley didn’t bother to respond to that. She rose, hugged them both, and then excused herself – limping up to her room.
That conversation hadn’t gone at all the way she’d expected. It was just more evidence that she built up problems in her head for no reason. As she entered her room and sat down on her bed, she considered what her parents had told her. Of course they were right. She needed to stand up for herself. If an opportunity presented itself, she needed to be ready to take it.
She glanced at the thick plastic helmet sitting on her bedside table. Even in-game, she had been leaning on Frank and Jason. She pulled the VR helmet over her head and laid down on her bed. Perhaps it was time to start carving her own path.
Chapter 7 - Confronted
Riley and her group continued south from Sibald after they logged back in. As they traveled, the trees around them began to change. Their bark regained its luster and Riley detected leaves sprouting from the once dead limbs. The sky had lightened considerably – the sun threatening to break through the cloud cover.
“I’m so glad we’re done with the kingdom of darkness,” Ethan complained as he lumbered along beside Riley. “I couldn’t see anything, and it was damn depressing.”
“I second that,” Emma added. “Although it did give me an opportunity to level my spells since I had to keep casting the whole time.”
Lucas glanced at Riley, who stayed silent during this exchange. “What about you, Riley? Are you ready to be finished with the Twilight Throne?”
She glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “Who says I’m done? I just have a quest in Vaerwald, and then I plan to go back.”
“Go back?” Emma asked in shock. “What for? There’s nothing but freak creatures in those woods. It’s not
even a good leveling spot.”
Riley hesitated. Her three teammates were looking at her skeptically. A clever answer didn’t come to her. “I like it there,” she replied lamely.
Ethan shook his head in puzzlement. “This game takes all sorts I suppose.”
Riley stopped as she caught sight of a bend in the road ahead of them. She pulled her bow from her back and sighted down the length of an arrow, activating Steady Aim and Aimed Shot simultaneously. Her vision zoomed in, and she could make out the figures ahead of them. Their red robes stood out in stark contrast to the brown and green of the forest around them.
“Who is it?” Ethan grumbled. “Something to fight hopefully. All this walking is unbelievably boring.”
“The fire mages from Sibald,” Riley said softly. She could feel her anger rising again, her dark mana responding immediately and digging its icy claws into her skull.
“Returning with the undead they purchased in town I bet,” Emma added in an indifferent voice. “Let’s keep moving.”
The group kept walking forward, quickly catching up with the band of mages. The group was moving quite slowly, and as they neared the caravan, Riley could see why. They had bound the legs of the undead with heavy iron manacles, which encumbered their movements. It forced the men and women to shamble along at an awkward shuffle.
There are almost fifty undead here, Riley thought in surprise. They must have purchased more while we were logged off.
The fire mages barely glanced at the group as they passed. As they neared the front of the convoy, Riley could see the Prefect leading the caravan. He was a large man for a mage – his arms and legs bulging with muscle. His face was thickly bearded, and his eyes shone a crimson red as he continuously channeled his own mana.
One of the women in the chain gang stumbled and tripped, plunging forward and pulling several of the undead with her. The procession screeched to a halt as the woman struggled to rise back to her feet. A frantic look crossed her face and fear danced in her eyes as she saw the mages notice her fall.
“Another delay?” the Prefect’s booming voice rang out. The man turned, a look of irritation creasing his lips. He approached the prone woman, and his eyes burned with anger. “What good are slaves that cannot walk?” he asked menacingly.
The woman bowed her head, not attempting to answer the Prefect’s rhetorical question. Without warning, the man kicked her viciously – his boot knocking her on her back. “Mute and immobile. Perfect. That fat merchant sold me defective goods.” A few of the fire mages around him snickered in amusement.
The Prefect summoned flames around his open palm. Before anyone could react, the fire shot forward like a flamethrower, engulfing the undead woman. Her screams echoed through the forest as the fire consumed her, and the undead behind her shrank back as the flames licked along the metal manacles. Soon little more than a burnt husk was left, its hand reaching feebly for the Prefect – a silent plea for mercy.
“Such a waste,” he muttered and started back to the front of the column.
Riley stopped moving as she watched the scene. Her dark mana pulsed and throbbed in her veins. He had killed the woman for tripping. She couldn’t stand by and let this man enslave these undead. Her parents were right; there were times when you simply had to fight. This was one of them.
Her eyes scanned the mages around her. There were nearly a dozen men and women in the caravan, and most were above level 80. A quick inspection showed that the Prefect himself was level 162.
I can’t wait and ambush their party. Not only would that be suicide, but it might start a war between the Twilight Throne and yet another neighboring kingdom – especially if I had to use dark magic.
A glimmer of an idea flitted through her mind. Maybe there’s another way…
“Let the slaves go,” Riley said darkly.
The Prefect turned and looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Do you know who you’re speaking to, girl?” he asked scornfully. He eyed her dusty leather gear with an air of arrogance. “I am a ranking member of the fire guild. I suggest you turn around and return to whatever gutter you crawled from.”
“I challenge you,” Riley declared, her mind clouded with the icy, pulsing sensation of her mana. The energy swept away her other emotions, and only a cold anger remained.
“What are you doing?” Emma hissed, looking at the fire mages around them anxiously. Riley ignored her teammate. Her attention was focused solely on the Prefect.
The man laughed at her. “You should listen to your friend. You think to challenge me? Why should I even bother?”
Riley knew she needed something to make the duel worth the man’s while. She could only think of one thing that these fire mages might appreciate. She knew this was reckless, but she was committed. She couldn’t stand by while the Kin were butchered and sold into slavery – deserters or not.
She threw back her hood, her blonde hair rustling in the faint breeze that blew through the forest. “I am a founding member of
The Prefect’s eyes widened as he took in her appearance. “I see you understand what that means,” Riley continued. “Then how about we make a wager? If you win the duel, the Twilight Throne shall owe your guild a debt. If I win, you free these slaves.”
The man regained some of his swagger. “Or, I could simply walk away with my merchandise,” he replied coolly.
Riley glanced at the crowd around them. “You could, but then you would be known as the first and perhaps the only Prefect that was too scared to accept a public challenge from the Twilight Throne.” She made a show of looking at the man’s subordinates who stood around them. Several already eyed their leader with thinly-veiled contempt for questioning the challenge.
The mage’s eyes flared with anger as he looked at his cohorts and realized he had been boxed into a corner. “Fine,” he spat. “I accept your challenge. I will enjoy returning to our Guild Master with news that I have secured a favor from your kingdom.”
Riley smiled darkly, shedding her cloak and backing away from the Prefect. She pulled her bow from her back and mentally recalled what she knew of fire mages. He would likely have no teleportation or crowd control abilities. In addition, only the game master had been able to use any type of protective shielding – perhaps that wasn’t common. However, she knew that she shouldn’t underestimate this mage. For some reason, he didn’t seem concerned about fighting an archer.
The Prefect swiped his hand in the air, and a notification crashed into Riley’s vision declaring the start of the duel. With a tap of her finger, she accepted the man’s challenge. A sudden rush of flame surged from the Prefect’s staff, and the mage was engulfed in fiery armor as his staff transformed into a pillar of flame. He choked down on the weapon with his grip and immediately began sprinting toward Riley. Her eyes widened as she saw him approach, a manic smile painted on his face.
He’s coming into melee?
Riley backpedaled and drew her bow, channeling dark energy into the arrow. The orb of mana grew rapidly, and she waited a few precious seconds before she released. The bolt streaked through the air and met the mage’s sword with a clash, halting his charge as unholy energy lashed at his flaming armor. The man’s crazed smile grew wider. His staff flared, and the fire pushed back at the darkness.
Riley didn’t stop moving. Arrows raced from her bow in rapid-fire succession as she continued to back away from the mage. He dodged the missiles with almost inhuman reflexes. The bolts that did strike him only barely scratched his skin, the wood swiftly burning away on his armor. Then the Prefect removed a hand from his staff, his fingers dancing in a complicated rhythm.
Suddenly, Riley c
ould feel heat press against her back and singe her armor. Flames erupted in a circle around the pair, effectively trapping her inside a fiery inferno. The mage was cutting off her ability to run. His manic smile grew even wider as he saw realization dawn in her eyes.
Riley abruptly changed directions and darted toward the mage. As she neared him, she dove into a roll. The Prefect’s staff sailed over her head, and Riley could feel the waves of heat rippling from the weapon. She sprang nimbly back to her feet and kept running, sending a silent prayer of thanks to Jerry for his training. The Prefect stumbled, suddenly off balance as he swung wildly through the air.
Once she put some distance between her and the mage, Riley turned. Drawing back on her bow, she felt time slow as she activated Steady Aim. The mage turned – his eyes blazing – and rushed at her again. She was breathing hard and could feel blisters forming along her back where the staff had grazed her. Riley couldn’t dodge forever, and she knew her daggers would be ineffective in melee. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the undead that watched her movements with a desperate hope from beyond the flames.
I can’t lose. I’m fighting to set them free. Riley turned back to the Prefect and his rage-filled face. Her dark mana pulsed in her veins. I’m fighting to avenge them.
She drew back on her bow as she summoned dark mana into another Void Arrow. This time, she felt a stabbing pain in her chest and noticed her health plummeting. Panicked, she looked at the tip of her arrow and saw traces of red swirling into the black miasma, crimson energy trickling from the bow’s crystal roses.
Riley had no idea what was happening, but she didn’t have time to question it. As the mage neared her and the pulsating ball of energy expanded, she released. The arrow rocketed through the air and Riley sprinted forward behind it. The mage smirked and arrogantly raised his staff to block the vortex of energy. Yet this time the explosion blasted him from his feet, sending him hurtling backward. He landed with a heavy thud as his staff tumbled to the ground beside him.
Awaken Online: Retribution (Side Quest) Page 5