Evolution

by Travis Bagwell

  “Why is that?” Claire asked, her interest piqued. Those apartments were painfully expensive. The upper levels were reserved for manager-level employees, and there was an on-going lottery for open spots. The competition could be quite fierce.

  Robert turned to face her, his expression sobering. “You didn’t hear? Apparently, some kids broke into his home and attacked him. He killed them both. George probably saw it as a PR nightmare and swooped in.”

  Claire stared at him in shock. A cold weight settled in her stomach as a thought occurred to her. “What? When was this? Do you know what day it happened?” Her fingers were already tapping at her Core to bring up the backup logs.

  Robert chewed on his lip for a second in thought. “A few days ago probably. I watched some of the newscasts after I ran into Jason. I think it happened on the night of October 20th. I could be wrong, though.”

  Claire froze, her eyes resting on the screen projected above her Core showing the log of Jason’s heightened neural activity. The file timestamp matched the date of the break-in. That was the same night that Jason’s brain waves had spiked – even while he was outside the game. She would have to go through the public newscasts to confirm that the incident occurred at the same time as the break-in at Jason’s house, but she already knew what she would find.

  “Are you alright?” Robert asked, noting her horrified expression.

  “Y-yeah. It’s just kind of scary, that’s all,” Claire replied in a distracted voice.

  “No kidding. Who would have thought someone would have broken into Jason’s home – or that he would have killed them?” Robert murmured, clearly misinterpreting her response.

  Claire sat in stunned silence, staring at her Core. She didn’t have any choice now. She had to blow the whistle – consequences be damned. What else could she do? Alfred may have just killed two people and used Jason to do it.

  ***

  “Is pretty lady coming?” Pint asked woefully, scratching at his ear with his little pitchfork. The imp sat on the edge of the table near Jason after he had reluctantly agreed to teleport them to the keep’s meeting room.

  “For the tenth time, yes,” Jason replied, massaging his temples to ward off the headache he felt coming on. Alfred lounged on one of the leather chairs near the fireplace, oblivious to the imp’s complaints. It felt like the AI might be trying to punish him for something.

  Thankfully, Pint didn’t get a chance to complain again, as the keep’s doorbell chimed, the high-pitching shrieking echoing through the meeting room. With an excited clap of his hands, the imp immediately teleported their guests into the room, dumping a startled Morgan and Jerry on the other end of the table.

  “Idiot, imp,” Morgan grumbled as she rose back to her feet, smoothing her robes and grabbing her staff from the floor.

  “At least it’s an expeditious way to travel,” Jerry replied in a jovial tone. He seemed unperturbed by the sudden change in scenery, his heightened Dexterity allowing him to avoid the fall. His cloudy white eyes surveyed the room. As he caught sight of Jason, a broad smile swept over his undead face.

  Before Jason could react, Jerry was beside him, one decaying arm wrapped around his shoulder. “And here’s our dark lord and savior himself. Where have you been off to lately? Up to more questionable conquests?”

  Jason couldn’t help but smile. He might not be willing to admit it, but he had missed the innkeeper’s silly sense of humor. He certainly could have used someone to cheer him up over the last few days. “I had some issues to attend to in my world,” Jason replied noncommittally, not sure he really wanted to retread the same ground again with Jerry and Morgan. He was certain Frank and Riley would want to rehash the story anyway.

  “Well, we’ve been doing your job for you while you’ve been off eating bonbons,” Morgan grumbled as she took a seat nearby, her mouth pinched into a thin line. “You wouldn’t believe all the townsfolk and tourists that suddenly want to learn dark magic.” She practically spat the word “tourists.”

  “However, it has been an excellent opportunity to regale them with stories of your valor and… um… dastardliness?” Jerry added, suddenly uncertain and fumbling with his words.

  “My apologies. I was a bit distracted for a moment.” The rogue tapped his blackened lips with the ends of his fingers. “It just occurred to me that I’ve forgotten something terribly important.” He looked at Jason evenly, letting the anticipation build. “I cannot believe I’ve let this matter languish for so long…”

  Jason could only imagine what he was going to say next.

  “We have yet to compose a ballad to memorialize your maniacal machinations!” Jerry finally exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “But do not fear,” he added, raising a finger. “I will set to work immediately. I will work tirelessly until the ballad is complete!”

  Jason could definitely feel a headache coming on now. The fleeting image of undead bards singing about his adventures in the marketplace suddenly popped into his mind. It likely wouldn’t take Vermillion Live long to start broadcasting his clips to Jerry’s new soundtrack.

  “You really don’t have to…” Jason began.

  “Nonsense,” Jerry interrupted with a wave of his hand. He tapped his temple. “I’m already drafting the beginning of the first verse. It will be a grand sweeping epic! Your tale will be sung from here to the Endless Sea.”

  The keep’s doorbell saved Jason from having to respond. The second chime couldn’t have come at a better time since he expected that Jerry was only moments away from breaking into song. The innkeeper’s lips twisted into a frown as he saw the other members of Original Sin stumble into the room and he grumbled under his breath as he took a seat at the table.

  “Pretty lady!” Pint cried as soon as he caught sight of Riley, dashing through the air toward her as his wings fluttered excitedly. He immediately took up his regular perch on her shoulder, holding his pitchfork defensively and his eyes daring anyone else in the room to try to move him.

  Jason inspected his friends as they caught their bearings. They looked quite a bit different than the last time he had seen them – older somehow. Riley’s armor had transformed into something much sleeker and more seasoned. She was now robed in black leather with crimson fabric embroidered at the seams. Her weapon slung over her shoulder was also something to behold. The bow’s arms curved and twined to a point, with crystalline roses embedded on either side of the hilt. The rose petals throbbed and pulsed with a vibrant blood-red glow. The malignant energy seemed more intense than Jason remembered.

  Frank had shed his torn cloth shirt and had replaced it with a simple leather harness, his bulging arms rippling as he lifted himself from the ground. Jason had to admit that his friend looked pretty impressive in-game. Real-life Frank had made some progress in the muscle department thanks to Alfred’s assistance, but he had a long way to go to catch up with his in-game avatar. Jason noted that he seemed to have given up on wearing armor for defense, possibly deciding to prioritize speed and to leave himself unencumbered. That made sense. His shapeshifting probably wreaked havoc on his repair bills.

  Riley’s eyes scanned the room before finally resting on Jason. Without warning, she sprinted across the room and threw her arms around him – dislodging Pint from her shoulder. “You’re okay!” she exclaimed.

  Even through AO’s muted pain feedback system, it felt like Riley was crushing his ribs. Jason slowly managed to extricate himself. “I guess you could say that,” he replied with a small smile. As she pulled away, Riley looked a bit embarrassed at her outburst, but he could tell she was still relieved to see him.

  Then her mood suddenly shifted, and she punched him in the shoulder. Hard. “Why didn’t you tell us what happened?” Riley demanded. “After we got kicked from the game a few days ago, all we got was a cryptic message about needing to handle some things in the real world.”

  Jason glanced at Alfred where he lounged on a nearby couch cushion, recalling that the AI had mentioned messag
ing his friends while he was in jail. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really have a chance to write something more elaborate,” he answered hesitantly. “The police just released me yesterday.”

  “Speaking of which, what the hell happened, man?” Frank asked, resting a hand on Jason’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “You must not be in too much trouble since you’re in-game.”

  “It’s a long story,” Jason replied before launching into the tale again. He gave them the short version – minus Alfred’s involvement and his suspicions that a third party may have orchestrated the break-in.

  “So, you’re staying at Cerillion Entertainment now, huh?” Frank commented a few minutes later, shaking his head. “Probably the safest place for you to be all things considered.”

  Riley nodded in agreement, although she still watched Jason with a worried expression. “I knew there had to be more to the story than what they were saying on the news. They were starting to paint you as the villain even though those teenagers broke into your house and they were armed. I agree with Frank, though. I’m glad you’re somewhere safe now.”

  Frank snorted. “I’m starting to think you may just attract the crazies. We’ve met a bunch of these players recently that are in town to join Original Sin. That recruitment video you made has been getting some mixed results. They’re a weird bunch – a really weird bunch.”

  “At least they’re trying to join us instead of undermining the city. I already seem to have plenty of enemies – in-game and out,” Jason replied in a tired voice, rubbing at his neck.

  “Anyway,” he continued, deciding to change the topic, “do you all want to get started with the meeting? I bet I have a lot to catch up on.”

  The council members all nodded, and they took their seats around the table. Pint retook his position on Riley’s shoulder – eyeing Jason warily and likely fearing he would be displaced again. Just as Jason was about to start them off, another chime echoed through the room. He glanced at the group in confusion as Pint teleported their new guest inside. His unspoken question was answered a moment later as a short little man popped into existence nearby. He promptly hit the ground hard, cursing quietly. Jason only caught a few snippets of grumbling. “Stupid fucking… who designed… dumbass teleportation system.”

  Riley chuckled as the short man regained his feet. “Jason, this is Cecil Stone,” she offered. “He’s the interim headmaster of The Cauldron, your new crafting school.”

  Cecil looked around the room in irritation as he pulled himself to his feet. He had a truly glorious beard, strands of hair braided in an intricate pattern that stretched down to his chest. He was robed in a motley ensemble of clothing. Jason assumed Cecil must have told his tailor to focus on putting as many pouches and pockets on his shirt, jacket, and trousers as he possibly could. If so, then the artisan had done a fantastic job.

  The small man nodded curtly at Riley in recognition and then turned to face Jason. “This the one?” he asked Riley in a rough voice.

  “Yes,” she replied. “This is Jason, the Regent of the Twilight Throne.”

  Cecil walked up to him and stuck out a hand which Jason accepted with a slightly puzzled expression. “So, I heard there’s an interview for the headmaster position,” Cecil continued gruffly.

  “What?” Jason asked. “Who told you that?”

  “I did,” Riley answered with a grin. “While you were gone, I spent some time traveling in-game to complete the quest for my bow. I met Cecil in a city to the south called Vaerwald. It’s essentially an enchanted, floating city controlled by several mage guilds.” She grimaced. “Long story short, I’m not going to be invited back anytime soon.

  “Anyway, Cecil is an enchanter,” Riley continued. “He helped me on my quest, but Vaerwald’s Council ended up confiscating his shop and exiling him as a result. I thought we might be able to find a place for him in the Twilight Throne since we were looking for someone to run The Cauldron.”

  “He’s done a great job so far,” Frank added, leaning back in his chair. “There are a bunch of students now. He’s also hired a couple other teachers. Plus, there have only been two fires.”

  “Only two…?” Jason asked in a puzzled tone.

  “Well, technically three,” Cecil said with an embarrassed expression, running his hand through his beard. “One kid set himself on fire. We weren’t really sure whether to count that one since there wasn’t any damage to the building.”

  Jason just shook his head as he tried to imagine how they could have set the crafting school on fire multiple times already. Maybe he needed to start thinking about other city services – like a fire department. “Okay. So, what can an ‘enchanter’ do exactly?”

  Instead of answering, Cecil pulled some red crystals from one of the pouches at his waist. Riley opened her mouth to protest, but it was too late. Cecil had already hurled the little crystals at the fireplace on the other end of the room. As the crimson stones crumpled against the rock mantle, a maelstrom of flames exploded outward. Jason was slammed against the table as the blast shook the room’s furniture.

  As the blaze began to clear, he could see that one of the stuffed, leather chairs had been set aflame. Alfred had barely dodged the blast by hunkering down beside his chair, tendrils of smoke drifting from his tail. The AI was now looking at the enchanter with an irritated expression. Not for the first time, Jason wondered how much direct control the AI had over the in-game characters.

  “Hmm, I guess that’s three,” Cecil muttered, eyeing the still smoldering chair. He walked up to it, grabbing another crystal from his pouch. He crushed the stone in his hand, and a veritable waterfall cascaded from his palm and promptly doused the flames, leaving a drenched, ruined husk where the chair had once stood.

  Jason couldn’t help but stare, his gaze shifting between Cecil and the ruined upholstery. His mind was already working through the possible uses for exploding crystals in combination with his Custom Skeleton spell. The prospects were pretty damn exciting. Before the grumpy little man could look too despondent, Jason stood and patted him on the shoulder.

  “I think you’ll fit in great here, Cecil. Consider the interview passed with flying colors,” he said. “What else can you do with those crystals?”

  “The varieties are nearly endless,” the enchanter explained, a small smile curling his lips as he noticed Jason’s enthusiasm. “You can imbue them with several different elements, combine them, ground them up into a powder, and mix them with liquids to form a paste.” As he explained this, Cecil opened a number of different pouches, revealing little bottles and a rainbow of mana-infused stones

  “Interesting,” Jason murmured. He couldn’t help himself and examined each item closely. He was hoping that these crystals counted as the type of material he could combine with his skeletons.

  When Cecil saw the slightly crazed look in Jason’s eye and the way he was pouring over his bags, he glanced at Riley uncertainly. “Um, do you want some samples?”

  “Yes,” Jason replied just a little too quickly. Cecil was more than accommodating and gave him a few pouches filled with a variety of different-colored rocks. A quick inspection revealed the following:

  Fire-Infused Mana Crystal

  These stones are infused with fire mana and will explode on impact. Other effects and combinations unknown.

  Quality: C

  Damage: 20-30 (Fire)

  Durability: 1/1

  Water-Infused Mana Crystal

  These stones are infused with water mana and will explode on impact. Other effects and combinations unknown.

  Quality: C

  Damage: 20-30 (Water)

  Durability: 1/1

  Lightning-Infused Mana Crystal

  These stones are infused with lightning mana and will explode on impact. Other effects and combinations unknown.

  Quality: C

  Damage: 20-30 (Lightning)

  Durability: 1/1

  “This is great, Cecil,” Jason said to the enchanter as he re
viewed his notifications, placing the crystals carefully in his own pack. Then his attention shifted back to the other council members, who were watching him with amusement.

  Ignoring their judgment, Jason addressed the enchanter, “Why don’t you stay? If you’re going to be heading our crafting school, then you may as well sit in on these meetings.” Riley winked at the enchanter as he took a seat beside her.

  “Alright,” Jason said, taking his position at the head of the table and slapping his palms against the wooden surface. “I have a general sense of the city’s status from a review of the control panel, but what do you all have to report?”

  “I have something,” Riley spoke up, her expression somber. “Although, this isn’t exactly great news. While I was traveling, I discovered that some of the undead deserters are waylaying travelers heading south from the Twilight Throne. I took out a small group, but I suspect that there are more hiding in the forest.”

  She sighed before continuing. “To make matters worse, it seems that the nearby towns have begun a new business capturing the deserters and selling them off to the other human cities as slaves. Apparently, they make a great labor force since they don’t feel pain and their stamina is nearly infinite. We recovered a group of slaves while you were gone, but we haven’t taken any action yet to destroy the towns or confront the remaining deserters.”

  “Well, that’s terrible,” Frank said with a frown. He glanced at Jason. “What do you say? Should we take out these towns?”

  Everyone’s attention was now on Jason, waiting for his answer. He hesitated, drumming his fingers on the table as he thought it through. He still had a quest to conquer the neighboring communities around the Twilight Throne, so the easy solution was to sack the towns and free the slaves. This would also send a message to any other would-be slavers.

  The slave trade wasn’t the only problem, though. The deserters were also ambushing travelers, which pointed to a larger morale problem among his undead citizens. He could capture and publicly punish the deserters to make an example of them. Yet, a few relevant passages from Machiavelli’s The Prince flitted through his mind. Fear was a good motivator – but his people would work harder if they followed him willingly, which meant he needed to offer them both a carrot and a stick.