Spectres & Skin: Exodus

by RJ Creed

  He shook his head no.

  “Thank you anyway,” I said. “And thank you for your help. We, uh, couldn’t let him get away.”

  “Of course not. You have done great work for the Collective already. You will save us from No One’s fiery apocalypse. I know it in my heart.” He pressed his hand to his heart and bowed a couple of inches. “I will pass the information of the Glitch on to the Father. Thank you, Matthew.”

  He disappeared around the corner and I stood there. Ryken remained, arms folded, watching everything play out in front of him with a slight frown. It was then that I remembered that he thought he was the rightful owner of this spectre, and he would probably be pretty uncomfortable with the idea of my place in the universe, when compared to his own.

  “I’ve completed my quest,” Ryken said. “I was hoping to run into you to tell you about it. It’s just lucky that I found you when I did, right?” He smirked cockily and I resisted the urge to slap him upside his teenage head. He was right, after all; I just didn’t want him to be so … aware of it.

  “Yes, very lucky,” I conceded anyway.

  “Have you figured things out with a merchant?”

  Shit. Shit shit shit. “No,” I said finally. “The quest I had became sort of complicated. It depended on the Collective remaining unaware of the Falchion’s presence in the city.” I tried hard to word it in a way that didn’t quite lay the blame on me. It seemed to work, because he nodded grimly. Thank you, Speech skill, for tricking people into thinking things aren’t completely my fault.

  “Great,” he muttered. “What now, then?” He paused. “Interesting that I completed my quest with no hitches, and you didn’t get anywhere with yours.” He raised an eyebrow in a way that made me want to punch him, but just a little bit. Which was progress.

  “Well, that’s what happens sometimes when people always give you the easy jobs, kid,” I snapped back, and started to walk back towards the spire. I had never called anyone ‘kid’ before in my life — what was wrong with me?

  “Whispers around that you were following a hot new Acolyte like a puppy,” Ryken mentioned in passing, but the memory of losing Xanthe after finding we had a connection — at least, I thought we had — felt a little like a punch in the gut.

  “Yeah. Well, no to the puppy part. But she was cool. I actually … I can’t find her now, and I’m worried. Her Initiation ceremony is soon and she’s nowhere; no one’s seen her.”

  “Scare her off with your weird boner?” he asked, and laughed like it was the funniest thing ever. Oh, to be sixteen again.

  “I’m actually pretty worried,” I said. And to his credit, he pursed his lips in thought. “I’m still partied up with her. Wouldn’t she have broken that link if she had left me?”

  “You can see her hit points and stuff then?”

  “No,” I said thoughtfully, concentrating on the top part of my vision to see the details of her bars. “They’re all greyed out. It’d just be gone if she was dead, though, right?”

  “Yes, it would be gone. Greyed out … that means she’s out of range. But alive. That’s weird.” He shrugged. “Maybe she just took off, decided she didn’t want to be an Initiate. Can you blame her? We’re not exactly the Collective’s biggest fanboys.”

  He wasn’t wrong. “If she was trying to get away from me she would have left the party,” I said, though I wasn’t entirely sure of myself.

  “What happened when you searched for her?”

  “I didn’t find her anywhere. Not in the spire, or the—”

  “No, like when you located her as your party member. Was she blocked?”

  What? “Uhh…”

  He slapped his own forehead and stared at me like I was the stupidest. “Are you a fucking alien from another planet? Wake up! Locate her!”

  “I…”

  “Just concentrate on her bars and think of where she is. There’ll be a kinda … you’ll see.” He shook his head at me with pure disappointment. I was really getting tired of being treated like an idiot because I was from Earth. It wasn’t my fault the stupid game had no tutorial!

  After a while a dull orange glow appeared to the east. It was not unlike a vibrant setting sun, but it was almost midday, so I turned to peer at it. Definitely to the east, and the colour concentrated into a specific pinprick.

  “Anything?”

  When I broke my concentration the glow faded. “Yeah,” I said. “She’s that way.”

  Ryken followed my finger, and then looked back at me. “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  He jabbed his fingers into my sternum and I coughed in surprise. “She left you in her party. She’s gone. Weird shit is going on in Dawnspire. Someone just tried to kill you in an alleyway and you were with her last night. Fucking hurry up.”

  I didn’t know how to tell Ryken I wasn’t too bothered. She was immortal. I didn’t know how he might take that concept, so I said nothing, just chewed my lower lip. She may not have been able to die, but she wasn’t exactly going to enjoy pain with the Fortitude score of a Level 2 player. Whatever was happening to her … I hoped it was something fun.

  Something fun? I sounded like an idiot again.

  “You think we need to go and save her?” I asked. “She’s…” I didn’t know how to explain it. “She’s going to be fine. We’re not, though. If we go after her and she is in danger, we’ll probably die. She was looking for some people. It’s possible that she just found a lead and pursued it, and she’ll be back in time for Initiation.”

  “I knew you were a moron,” Ryken said steadily, “but I have to say: I didn’t know you were a coward.” He shut his mouth and looked away with a grimace, like my presence physically disgusted him. I rolled my eyes.

  “She’s immortal,” I said. “We’re not. I don’t know how to explain that to you, because it’s complicated, but you have to accept that it’s true. OK?”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. She can die, but she’ll come back. In fact, if she does die, she’ll beam back to the spire. We’d be idiots to go after her, no matter how you look at it.” I tried to look at him directly without blinking so that he had no reason to doubt me.

  “She some kind of demigod or elf or something?” he asked, his face twisted in confusion so much that it betrayed his true age in a way I hadn’t seen in him yet.

  “Really, just believe that this is all too complicated for now,” I said. “I’m just confused why she would leave.”

  “She to the east?” Ryken asked. “How bright was the glow? Could you look right at it?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I looked at it. Why?”

  “Means she’s kind of far away,” he said, tapping on his lower lip. “During my quest I went to the east. I found a lot of undead people like Gellert, and the Falchion were with them. I thought they were working together, or something, but the dead people … they were just following orders, they did nothing of their own accord.”

  “Sorry?” I turned and stopped him mid-step and he frowned up at me. “The Falchion were with the Glitched, and they weren’t fighting each other?”

  “No, they were moving together.”

  I looked away. “That’s impossible,” I said. “They can’t be working together. The Glitch … it originated from the same world as … as Xanthe and the other immortals.”

  “How the fuck do you know all this?”

  “I can’t explain,” I said again through gritted teeth. “I just don’t know how. Maybe one day. Did they spot you?”

  He puffed out his chest a little. “Nobody spots me unless I want them to. They walked straight past.”

  “Did you hear anything they said?”

  Ryken shrugged. “I didn’t understand any of it. Do you think you might?”

  “Yes,” I said quickly, grabbing his shoulders. “Tell me what you heard.”

  His green eyes widened. “Get … off me, Matt.”

  I raised my hands from his body and displayed them to show I wasn’t a threat.
But I was desperate to know what he knew.

  “Fine … but if I didn’t get it, I don’t think you will. No offence.”

  “Fuck, Ryken,” I snapped, using his favourite word against him. “Just say it.”

  “Uhh … it was something like … find something or someone from the … transmission? And a burden from their god. A burden, they said that a few times. I don’t know. They said they’d get the secret about the bug, and the bug was in the system. I just don’t know what they meant. What fucking bug do you think they’re talking about? The Brothers I asked figured it was something to do with the Kitchkis to the north, that big bug race?”

  I looked away. “The bug. The transmission. They want to find out more about the bug in the system from the woman in the transmission. That sound right?”

  He shrugged. “Sure, but … don’t pretend you understand.”

  I turned and smacked the stone wall. “The Silver Falchion plan to invade Dawnspire. They’ve harnessed the power of the bug — the Glitch — and they think Xanthe knows more, because they recognise her from the transmission. Fuck! She even said she was going to Dawnspire in the fucking message she put out there. They’ve taken her to question her about the Glitch. I know it.” I span in a circle while I tried to think. “They can’t kill her, though, or she’ll be transported back to the spire. So…” I racked my stupid brain.

  Come on, ring of +2 Intelligence…

  “Luke would know what to do, you fucking idiot,” I muttered to myself. “If the Falchion come here with an army of Glitched players … and they have the sword that kills spectres … Ryken, we’re all dead.” I turned to the kid with wide eyes. “We have to get out of here.”

  I turned and walked as fast as I could towards the city gates. The kid didn’t move to follow me. I turned back. “Ryken,” I called again. “Come on, we have no hope. We have to run.”

  “I hate running,” he snapped back, but his eyes were darting around.

  “We’re weak, we can’t fight!” I pointed at him. “You’re still in your goddamn sackcloth, you stupid teenage shit! Come on. Now!” I used my best adult voice.

  “Fine,” he said, shaking his head hard. “But we have to warn the Collective, and the slums. How much time do you think we have?”

  “I don’t know what information they want from her, and I don’t know how long it’ll take to implement it,” I said. “I just know that Moro can’t defeat Maledictus yet.” I pointed to the wolf. “I’m a shit player. I shouldn’t have been chosen.” I raised my hands to run through my hair. “You’re right, I think. It was supposed to be you. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know why. But I can’t do this. I have to leave.”

  “Bullshit.” He stepped towards me and jabbed me between the ribs again. His green eyes were on fire. “You’re an idiot, and you’re slow and clumsy and you fuck everything up. Even the simplest stuff.”

  I had no idea how this was supposed to help me.

  “But you were chosen by the gods. Have you heard the prophecy yet?” He waited for my response, and I shook my head. “It’s like you’re from another planet, I swear. I can’t deal with you.” He turned and kicked a stray bucket hard so that it sailed across the still-empty street and clattered to the ground. He looked like he was about to walk away, but then he turned back, his eyes narrowed with the irritation that came from continuing to engage with me.

  “There are people living in this city that I can’t let die,” he said finally. I folded my arms defensively across my chest.

  “I’m one of the weakest people here—” I began.

  “True, but you have the wrath of the goddess on your side. Not even the Father has that. He’s been trying to summon back Titania for thirty years and she’s ignored him. But now you’re here and she’s taking notice. She’s chosen you to represent her.”

  “By giving me a spectre? She gave the Father a spectre. She gave Nickel a spectre. Let them save the city. I don’t want to die,” I yelled, surprising myself with the gravity of my own words.

  “No. The thirty year gap. The wolf. The wolf is how she used to take her own form when she walked on Pax. No one has ever had a wolf spectre, especially not under Votorius-Khan. The warrior constellation. Nickel is under the fire constellation — he’s in the prophecy. He’s meant to light your way. The Father is under Flaira — wind, or air. He’s meant to set everything in motion at the beginning. Everyone else has fulfilled their purpose.” He looked away, bitterness invading his expression. “Now it’s your time. The warrior. You have to save us.”

  I looked at the floor. “Fuck,” I spat.

  “I wish it wasn’t you, too,” he growled. “We can’t change the will of the gods.”

  “What do I do, then?”

  “You need armour that isn’t in fucking tatters. We’ll conceal your face. I’ll teach you to blend in with the shadows. Then they’ll come, they’ll try to kill the Father. You have to stop them.”

  I must have made a face, because he added, “I know. But you don’t know Incendia.”

  “No.”

  “Imagine the Father, but she worships an even more violent god. No One makes Titania look like a fluffy kitten when you look into mythology. The Collective butcher people on the streets for practising No One’s brand of magic, yes, but the Falchion butcher people in the streets because they believe their cobblestones look nicer in a shade of red. You understand?”

  I nodded, feeling heat crawl across my skin. Better armour. Conceal my face. Hide in the shadows.

  Because otherwise I was going to be no match, for anyone. It was too soon.

  But I had to make peace with what was about to happen. I was going to try my hardest to save a city I had only known existed for a few days.

  And then I was going to die.

  “We need to figure out how to hide your glowing mutt,” Ryken was saying as we rifled through Roark’s wares while the older man watched with amusement. “There’s no use in teaching you the element of surprise when your identity is given away by your spiritbound familiar.”

  I glanced backwards at Moro, whose tongue lolled between her bottom teeth when we made eye contact, and tried not to crack into a smile before I turned back to the kid. “Is that a possibility?”

  “Yeah.” He held up a thick black jerkin with a faint glow around it, and an aura of power, and held it against his thin chest. “I see Nickel walking around sometimes without Silas, when he wants to seem more approachable. We’ll ask him. We probably have some time. They’ll question your girl for a while—”

  Guilt clutched at me. She could be going through something awful and there just wasn’t anything I could viably do to help her, was there?

  “—and then who knows what they’ll do when they have their information. We gotta be ready.”

  “Right,” I said, feeling sweaty and uncomfortable underneath my armour. I had just turned Level 6. In The Afterlife at Level 6 I still wouldn’t have been able to enter the PvP map which really comprised most of the game. I was, relatively, a helpless newborn in the world of Ilyria.

  And Incendia sounded fucking terrifying.

  Ryken leaned in when Roark went to help another customer. “How do you want to do this?” he asked low.

  “Do what?”

  “We can’t afford any armour. Obviously. We’re going to have to steal it.” His eyes darted around the room as he said the last part through gritted teeth.

  I looked over at Roark and sighed. “No, we can’t do that,” I said. “He’s an important character in…” I wasn’t supposed to tell people this, but fuck it. My big mouth had already gotten me in trouble today; it may just have killed Lucius and Alina if I couldn’t figure out how to fix it. “...the White Suns.”

  Ryken’s interest was visibly piqued. “The White Suns are back? How the fuck do you suddenly know so much more than me? Four days ago you were a goddamn scrub.”

  I shrugged. “Anyway, we can’t steal from them. They’ll be our allies against the C
ollective.”

  He huffed. “Fine. But that means you have to talk him into it.”

  I inspected the armour that Ryken had picked out for me.

  Swansong Leather Jerkin

  Very Fine Quality

  Defense: +8

  Stealth: +3

  Req: Dexterity 14

  “That’s amazing,” I said, “but my Dexterity is only at 12. I have one Attribute Point but that’s it.”

  “Any skills at level 4?” he asked, inspecting the rest of the armour set.

  I brought up my top skills.

  Snickersnee (Level 4 — 60%)

  Speech (Level 4 — 80%)

  Dodge (Level 3 — 0%)

  Stealth (Level 2 — 15%)

  Deception (Level 2 — 25%)

  “My Sn— my dagger skill is close to level-up,” I said. “Is that Strength or Dexterity?”

  Ryken’s eyes lit up. “That’s Dex. Hit level 5 in it and you’ll get a Dex point. Here. Let’s spar.”

  He pulled out his stiletto in such a quick movement that I barely saw his hand move. I was about to turn to Roark to ask him if he minded or not, but before I could, the stiletto sliced through the air, in a long enough arc that I knew it wasn’t intended to be a truly harmful blow, but quicker than I would have liked…

  I thought fast, as fast as I could anyway, and used Draw Strike to slap the edge of his dagger with my own, flipping his arm upwards and away. His eyebrows raised slightly, as if impressed with my newfound speed and confidence.

  I had to admit, I was pretty impressed with it myself.

  “Keep doing that,” he said, and then pivoted his whole upper body to put some real strength behind his next arc. I gripped my dagger harder and tried to concentrate hard on where his dagger was, but my hand moved at normal speed. Since it hadn’t been sheathed, I had no ability that I could use. And, if there was one, I clearly wasn’t a high enough level to learn it.

  I still just about managed to slice at the edge of his blade with mine, and then dove out of the way of the attack that came my way anyway. I caught myself on the wall, causing Roark to turn around and glare our way over the shoulder of his other patron, but since he said nothing — and we hadn’t destroyed anything — I didn’t say anything.