I drop Silvia’s hand outside the scrollmaking rooms and plop down on a black marble bench. “I don’t know what to do. I have this feeling like time is running out. I don’t know why.”
Players dash by, a few glancing at the one name over my head.
She sits next to me and takes my hand again, not letting me be discouraged. “I do, too. I don’t know why, either.” Her voice is light.
I look at her. “Are you afraid?”
“A little,” she admits with a small shrug. “We should stay in a party to keep our conversation private. I know you want to split up in case the fight happens, that you don’t want me in the battle with Ananta, but think. Even if I get hurt, I won’t feel it. I’m still from Elora. I feel nothing.”
I sigh. “I know. I know. But it’s Ananta. Maybe you will. I don’t know. I think it’s not worth the risk. Besides, we can’t even find the damn summon fight. We could search the temple for a year and never find it. There are no caves here. There are no NPCs to ask, even. None of them in Elora are like the NPCs in Dark World. They are more… more… programmed here. I guess that’s the best way to—” I stop, feeling stupid like Calla thinks I am.
“Sid? Sid, what is it?”
I slap my forehead. “Master Gronai.”
“Master Gronai? What about him? What did you think of?” She sounds excited, and her white eyes glow brightly with hope.
“NPCs don’t age. It could just be possible… but no. I mean, Master Gronai couldn’t be here in Elora, a zillion years after Dark World, could he?”
Her wide eyes looking into mine answer the question with a simple gaze and a mutual slow smile.
“Where did you say he was?”
“South turret.” I jump up. “Come on, let’s go see if he’s there.”
We take the winding stairs to the top wall and cross around to the turret I used to visit Master Gronai in. I crack open the door and hesitate. “What if he’s not here?” I say to Silvia.
“Then you’ll have another great idea.”
“Thanks.” I wonder at her confidence in me and pull the door all the way open.
Lo and behold, there’s Master Gronai at the desk of the turret. I’m shocked that the bookshelf I caught on fire forever ago has never been replaced. It’s a charred mess.
The old Nuudle NPC hunches over a scroll with a Phoenix Quill, delicately inscribing something important to him.
I clear my throat, feeling nervous. Is he the same Master Gronai, or something different, exclusive to Elora? “Master Gronai?”
“Busy, come back tomorrow,” he mutters without looking at us.
“It’s me. Do you remember me?” I wait for him to answer.
Finally, without turning, he says, “I told you, tomorrow. This takes complete concentration. I have to—oh. You ruined it. It takes so much to get inspired these days, and I was, and you ruined it.” He spins on his stool and hops off, brushing his brown robe. He meets my eyes with an angry frown. “Young Nuudle, you have no idea how hard it is for an old man like me to focus. I’ve been doing this for eons. Did it ever occur to you that I might struggle with getting and staying inspired to continue making these master-level scrolls? Only I can do it, and I simply don’t feel like it most of the time. Today I did, and you two ruined it. Bursting in here like that. Who do you think you are?”
He doesn’t know who I am. He looks exactly the same, too. “It’s me, Sid. Remember?”
“I don’t know any Sid. And it’s been forever since I’ve seen a one-namer. What business do you have with me? Spit it out and then get out.” He folds his little arms across his chest, big eyes burning with fury.
I pause, thinking. Silvia puts her hand on my shoulder, saying, “Maybe we should go.”
“You know, Master Gronai,” I say, an idea forming. “I once knew a scroll-maker and brilliant Nuudle master of magic and runes who became weary of laboring like you are now.” I’m pulling out all the Nuudle wording. Master Gronai always was particular about that. “May I be of assistance? I was able to give him a boost in the right direction.”
He squints his eyes at me. “With what?”
“Magic.”
He huffs. “No kind of magic like that in two thousand years. Believe me, if there were, I’d be the first to know.”
I smile and widen my eyes. “Oh, but great Master Gronai, I promise your favorite delight, and relief with my magic.”
He raises an eyebrow, mouth still tight. “Oh? Well, well, well. Go ahead. Let’s see what young Nuudle Sid can do.” He plops back down on his stool. “If you can make me want to finish this scroll with your oh-so-great magic, I’ll eat my Phoenix Quill.”
“You won’t want to because you’ll be inspired to finish your work.”
Sid casts Spontaneity. Master Gronai gains +140 CRG.
His body glows briefly, and his eyes light up like fireworks. He shoots off the stool and claps his hands together at the same time.
“My—Mystic? You? But there are no… and you just… my favorite! How did you know?” He’s using his sincere Nuudle eyes, all attitude gone.
I step toward him. “You’ve gotten stronger over two thousand years. That boost is a lot higher than it used to be.”
Master Gronai puts his ringed hands on his cheeks.
“Yeah, I think you remember me now. It is you, isn’t it?” I grin.
“It is you, isn’t it?” he repeats. “Sid! Oh, of course! Sid! Nuudle Mystic Sid! I had forgotten your name altogether. You never came back. I thought the worst. I—I—oh, can you do it one more time? Spontaneity? Just once, and try to make it Concentration?”
I laugh. “Of course.”
I use Spontaneity on him four more times until he gets a +245 CON boost, and he sighs ever so gratefully. “Sid. I have missed our time together. What happened to you? It’s been so very, very long! Do you know how dreadful it is in these times? I have to repeat myself so that these simpletons can remember what I say. You, now, you… who’s this?” He finally takes note of Silvia.
“I’m Sid’s friend. Silvia Diamond. I’m a Blessed.”
“I can see that. I can see. And, Blessed Silvia Diamond, why are you here with Mystic Sid?”
We look at each other.
“It’s a long story,” I begin, “but I made it to this time through a portal. What’s been two thousand years for you has been a day for me.”
Sid casts Meditation. Master Gronai’s stat boosts will last for 47 seconds longer.
His eyes turn blank and I know he’s hiding something. Master Gronai never hid anything from me before.
“What?” I ask.
He says nothing.
“What is it?”
“We don’t talk about those things in Elora.” I notice his blank stare weaken as I give him encouragement with a quick Spontaneity. I don’t have to say a word.
“Now, don’t be like that. Now, now. Sid. Oh, for crying out loud. Close and lock this turret door.” He turns to his desk and scribbles out the rest of the scroll while he still has the stat boosts, muttering, “Have a seat on the floor. We have much to discuss. But first, I need to make sure there are no ears.”
He pulls the top, right drawer of his desk completely out and retrieves a scroll from behind it, then puts the drawer back in place. He sings the runes on the scroll. The round walls of the turret glow a soft violet. “There. Nothing and nobody can possibly know what happens in this room until the rune magic wears off. Been saving that scroll for something like this.” His eyes gleam.
“Master Gronai, I have the Ananta quest. He’s here, somewhere in the temple. I just can’t find the battlefield entrance. He’s been in Elora and I had to come here to find him.” I wonder at Master Gronai’s NPC paranoia. Who or what would monitor this conversation? Why would it bother him if someone did?
“You have more than that to worry about.” He sits on the floor with us, crossing his thin legs under him with a grunt. “You left your book with me.”
“I kn
ow.”
“I’ve had two thousand years to examine it, Mystic Sid.”
Silvia looks at me. I glance at her, then back to Master Gronai. “And?”
“You were right. It is Manual of Systems. It is not about magic or Mystics. It’s about the very essence of this existence and how it works.”
I wait, thinking. What does that mean? Is he talking about the game? Or death in Dark World? Or something entirely different?
He continues. “I can’t make out the meaning of the technological terms. There are no runes for these now, and there weren’t two thousand years ago. I don’t know who the original author of the Manual of Systems was, but whomever it was, he wasn’t from our world.”
I notice his hands tremor.
“There’s more. Yes, Ananta is here, always here, and I can tell you where to find him. It’s in the book. I’ve known for about 400 years now. I had nobody to tell; no Mystics. Still, I’d tell none but you. The book is about you, what you will be capable of if you claim Ananta.”
“What do you mean, about me?”
“Well,” he shrugs and looks off to the side. “A Mystic who could be you, and I believe it is you. You have no idea what you’ll be able to do if you pursue Ananta. However, you must.” Now his eyes plead, begging me to succeed.
“Why do you look at me like that? What is it you hope I’ll do?”
He sighs, looks at the hem of his robe on the hard stone floor and rubs his face with both small hands. “Freedom. A reset is what the Manual of Systems describes.” He raises his head, drops his hands. “We so desperately need it. I so desperately need it, Mystic Sid.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” adds Silvia.
“To be honest, I don’t understand anything like I used to. I once was sharp, spry, but now I’m worn. I tried to stay positive. I tried.” He stands and paces. His stat boosts must have worn off. After tapping my Shaman Stick on the stone floor, I toss another Spontaneity on him, giving him +99 ATT.
“Ahh, thank you. You always knew how to sooth an old man. The thing is,” he says as he walks around the perimeter of the small room, “that I’ve always been old, and I don’t remember who I am.” He stops and stares down at me, the ATT boost making his eyes shine. He whispers, “I so desperately want to.”
I realize this Master Gronai, two thousand years later, is the same one I knew, but he’s gone mad. Nothing he’s saying makes sense, and he’s not even trying to make sense. It’s as though he’s not capable of it anymore. My heart beats slower.
“I can help,” I say gently. I stand and put my hands on his shoulders. Look him dead in the eye. “Master Gronai, where do I find Ananta?”
He blinks, pain aching in his expression. “In the oldest branch of the first floor library, there is a locked door at the very back hidden behind a heavy bookshelf. Only one in a nook. There is a staircase leading to below the temple. The basement. That’s all I can tell you.” He looks down, pulls away from me, and sits back at his desk.
He’s done with us. I don’t even try to get any more out of him. Silvia senses it, too, because she takes my hand and leads me out of the turret door and into moonlight, closing the door behind us.
“Let’s go, Sid.”
“Okay, yeah. It’s so weird seeing him like that.”
“You okay?” She gazes down at me, concerned.
“Yeah. To the library.”
We find a bookshelf made of wood, while the others are black marble, tucked a few feet in from the others in the bottom floor library way, way, way in the back. Luckily, not a single player seeks out these places. I summon the Counts, and command Surround. They blow that bookcase and the locked wooden door behind it to pieces. I thank them and quickly dismiss them before they get irritated about being summoned indoors. I’m lucky it was nighttime, at least.
“Well, damn!” Silvia says once they’re gone. “That was… something.”
As the dust clears and the rubble becomes stable, I summon Varengan for light. The old stone stairs winding downward before us are black as sin, and my paradise bird summon is the best torch. Varengan seems to sense something isn’t safe, and doesn’t chirp or coo. He crouches in the hole, unable to fly in such cramped quarters.
“Varengan, I need you to guide us through the basement. We’re looking for an entrance to a battlefield. You make us see perfectly, beautiful bird,” I tell him with what I hope reads to a bird as an encouraging tone of voice.
He winks one eye at me and hops all the way through the hole the Counts made, and wanders downward. Gray stone walls and fat steps radiate pale blue from Varengan’s glow, and we follow.
The bottom of the stairwell opens up into a wide, round room with a high ceiling. Varengan is happy to fly again. It’s completely empty. Not a single book, scroll, not even dust here. No doors, and none of the walls look special, like an entrance to a battlefield.
Varengan lands in the middle of the room and slowly cleans his wing feathers.
“I have absolutely no idea what to do, Silvia.”
She shakes her head, looking all around. “Do you think there’s some trap? Could we be standing targets right now?”
I hadn’t thought of that. “Yeah, you’re right. Varengan has a protection spell. Hang on.”
“I’ll add on,” she says, waving her lit wand.
Silvia Diamond casts Protection. Sid and Silvia Diamond gain Protection.
I access Varengan’s ability list in my interface and aim for Feathers, but pause right before I mindlessly select it.
There are now five options.
All my summons have four options. Why does Varengan have five?
“What is it?” Silvia asks.
“Varengan has a new ability.”
“A new one? What is it?”
I hastily read it to myself, then to Silvia.
Gift of Feather—Varengan summons healer player of your choice to you. Speak the player’s name to Varengan.
“What does it mean?” she asks.
“I think… You see, Varengan asked me never to pluck a feather. That’s it. Now he’s offering a feather. Asking me to bring someone, a healer, here.” I turn to her and look up into her shining white eyes. “I think he wants to bring me a fighter.”
“For Ananta.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, wow. You have to do it.” She pulls a torch out of her bag and lights it. Shallow orange flame mixes with blue on the gray stone walls.
I turn to Varengan. I never wanted to hurt any of my friends from Dark World again. Yet, I think of it from their points of view. How could I do this to them, keep them from the ultimate Mystic battle, when they took it hard for every single one before? I know better. I want them here. I know they want to be here, too.
Sid commands Gift of Feather.
“Varengan, bring Doolittle.” I have no idea if this magic will cross to Dark World, but I feel in my bones they all need to be here.
My paradise bird squawks, and beside him, a light blue, glowing figure takes form, and then solidifies into Doolittle.
“Holy crap!” he screams. “Where the hell am I?” He spins around and sees Silvia and me. “Sid!”
“Hey, Doolittle. I, uh, had Varengan summon you.”
“What?” He looks at the bird and back to me. “Are you… are you telling me he had a new ability, and that this is… oh my God.”
He’s always been the quickest of our bunch. “Yep, Ananta. And I think my other summons will have similar gifts, or an extra ability, if you will.”
Doolittle shakes his head. “Stop that Nuudle talk. Are you for real?”
“Yep. Meet Silvia.” I gesture to her.
“Hi, Doolittle. I’ve heard all about you.” She smiles at him.
“Holy shit. We’re in Elora. We’re in friggin’ Elora. Silvia Diamond. Two names.”
“No time, Doolittle, I gotta pull out my other summons. I don’t know how much time we actually have, but I feel like not much
.”
Sid dismisses Varengan.
I watch Doolittle’s face freak as Silvia pulls him aside, and she seems to ease him with quiet words. She casts Awaken on him after a moment.
I’ll go in order.
Sid summons the Counts of Hell.
They form into a circle around the three of us, quietly staring expectantly at me. I check their ability list.
From the Dark—The Counts of Hell summon a dark class player of your choice to you. Speak the player’s name to the Counts of Hell.
Sid commands From the Dark.
“Days.”
Out of a black and white swirling fog, Days materializes. He wears full-on dungeon gear, and has a little blood on his cheek. He spins and sees me, becoming color away from the Counts black-and-white spell. He points at my face. “You. I knew you wouldn’t leave us out, because you knew I’d invoke some inner demon on you if you did. Ananta, for real?” He looks around at the Counts. “Did they…?”
Maybe I’m the only dumb one. Both of them knew what was going on the second they materialized.
“Yeah. Doolittle, fill him in. Oh, and say hi to Days, Silvia.”
He winks at her. “She of Mantra. And we’re in fucking Elora.”
“Yeah,” Silvia says to him, holding out her hand. They shake. She casts Awaken on him as he chuckles. I know he’s thinking, I’m feeling the real Elora!
“Thanks, guys,” I tell the Counts.
Sid dismisses the Counts of Hell.
Sid summons Djinn.
“Hello, Master Mystic Sid, is it my turn to offer you a fourth wish?”
“Yes, Djinn. It is.”
I read his new ability.
Fourth Wish—Djinn summons buffer class player of your choice to you. Speak the player’s name to Djinn.
Sid commands Fourth Wish.
“Sorry, please, Djinn.”
Djinn is delighted. “My favorite Voodoo Lady.”
Sorry appears in a sudden poof of green smoke. She’s stunned, stumbles as though she had been running when summoned. “Where the hell—is that you, Sid?”
Days grabs her around the waist. “He didn’t forget us like you said he would, so now you owe me a foot rub and three Siren Ales.”
“What—?” she starts.
Total Immersion: Dark World: A LitRPG Adventure Page 23