“As soon as your Totem chooses an item, the doors to this treasure vault will close to you forevermore. Nilirgnis—make your selection!” the voice returned to its earlier bombast.
Nilirgnis?
Your Totem has gained a level.
Your Totem has gained a level.
Your Totem has gained a level.
“Ni-lir-gnis...,” slowly, a syllable at a time, echoed my Level 54 Totem. Over the past hour, Draco had grown to span three meters from his nose to his tail’s tip, and now bore utterly no resemblance to the tiny lizard that I had received several months ago. Rolling his name along his tongue, a name more befitting an Elf than a Dragon, Draco was at once looking at me and through me, deep in thought. I had never seen my Totem in such a pensive state—it seemed that his old Imitator was being formatted and a new one installed. A new Imitator that could answer for the actions of this updated, upgraded Dragon.
“Brother, I…” began Draco—no, Nilirgnis—no, I will call him Draco after all. He breathed a deep sigh as if gathering his courage and then blurted out: “Call me Draco, like before, okay? I believe that my name is Nilirgnis, my real name, but…I like the name you came up with. I am Draco, a Dragon’s Totem! If that’s all right with you, of course…”
“Of course it’s all right with me,” I replied. “You will always be Draco to me! By the way, you were telling me about some amazing item you found? Will you show it to me?”
“Yup! Almost forgot! Let’s go. It’s not far. I’ve never seen anything like it before! Even in this treasure vault, it’s like a diamond in a dump! But why am I mincing words. Come and see for yourself! Let’s take it!”
Staring at the item that Draco was twirling around, I couldn’t contain my laughter. Way to go, developers! I would never have anticipated such a bold move. A metallic, silvery sphere that resembled a basketball by its dimensions, entirely solid without so much as a hint of an opening, a groove or a crack. Simply a large metallic thing, a giant ball bearing. The Totem was right, in a treasure vault brimming with weapons, equipment and gold, this thing really did seem misplaced.
“You’ve made your choice,” said the guardian of the treasure vault and Draco and I were lifted into the air. A portal appeared right beneath the ceiling and the whirlwind that had formed around us began to pull us towards it. Yet, I remained fixated on the characteristics of this new item in my bag and paid no attention to our journey out of the first Dragons’ Dungeon. The item Draco had chosen was simply too wondrous:
The Crastil of Shalaar. Description: Rastukal, who snarfed the prarqat in rurna, managed to glass the pralix of kurlex. Only the rhims qrijoplix gurt-gurt can take the Crastil of Shalaar. Item class: Unique.
I really hope that this actually means something because otherwise...
Chapter 6. The Blood Ritual
Even as the sun with purple-coloured face
Had ta’en his last leave of the weeping morn,
‘Thrice fairer than my self’, thus she began,
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
‘The field’s chief flower, sweet above compare,
Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to thy saddle-bow.
A summer’s day will seem an hour but short.’
Sick thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
More white and red than doves or roses are:
Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life,
And like a bold-faced suitor ‘gins to woo him.
And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken:
I re-read the riddle of the ogres several times, unable to understand what Shakespeare’s timeless Venus and Adonis had to do with the Karmadont Chess Set. Not only were the verses presented out of order, but even their unscrambled combination did not yield the result I could recite from memory. Another thing I liked very much about the riddle was that the first eight verses were in one ogre, while the other eight were in the other—and there was no field for entering the answer. It was as if the answer, as such, did not exist!
“Hi, Mahan. It’s me!” Around evening Anastaria got in touch with me through the amulet. “Do you have plans tonight?”
“I do. There was this one girl who promised to go on a date with me. I’m waiting for her invitation.”
“Forget her—she’s lame and late. I intend on snatching you from her. What do you think of taking a ride down one of the canals of romantic, nighttime Anhurs?”
“When and where?”
“If you must talk—leave the library!” muttered the grizzled keeper of the Shamanic book. “People come here to acquire learning, not wag their tongues!”
“Who’s that mighty terror I hear in the background? Are you even in Anhurs?”
“Yes, I’m at the Shamans’.”
“Then meet me in five minutes at the entrance. I’ll be giving you a master class on how to properly go on a date tonight! I’ll be waiting.”
When the girl disconnected, I stood up from the only chair and stretched. Having killed almost the entire day in acquainting myself with the book, I had raised my Spirituality to 72. I still had a quarter of the book left, so I could be confident of increasing this stat a little more. Though, I had not the slightest idea of what I would do afterwards. Was my subsequent growth as a Shaman supposed to rely exclusively on summoning combinations of Spirits? Because that would take forever…
“Are you going to go on with the quiet game much longer?” asked Anastaria as soon as we settled ourselves in the magic-steered gondola.
“Silent game?” I asked surprised, still overwhelmed with my impressions from my day’s reading. I had seldom encountered such complex and, at the same time fascinating, language. The gist of the meaning was sometimes so convoluted that I had to read over and over again the same piece of text to understand what the author was trying to say. It was like constantly being interrupted by the pop-ups of some insidious malware. I got the impression that more than one author had worked on the book.
“Yesterday a player created the ogres from the Karmadont Set. You wouldn’t happen to know who that may be? Our clan could use someone crafty like him…”
“Oh, that’s what you’re on about,” I smiled and, retrieving the figurines, offered them to Stacey. “How do you like this riddle?”
“Hum,” muttered the girl, utterly oblivious to the beauties of the evening capital around us. I’d wager my head that, at that moment, the world she was in contained nothing besides the two figurines. “So…hmm…where are you supposed to write the answer?”
“You already solved it?” Hearing Stacey’s words, I almost had a culturally-induced heart attack. Had it really taken her a mere “hum,” “hmm,” and a “so” to solve the riddle? But that’s impossible! How can a person be so…so perfect: in both outward appearance and inner aptitude?
“No—but if I had—where would I enter it?” The girl dispelled my doubts. She was human after all! Returning the figurines, Stacey added, “Give me a day and I will solve this riddle! But listen, Mahan, could you please tell me: What is your name?”
“My name?”
“It’s just that constantly referring to a person by his in-game handle is a little…Well, I personally don’t much enjoy it when people refer to me as ‘Anastaria.’ ‘Stacey,’ ‘Anastasia,’ and for a select few, ‘Stace’…That’s my name and I love it very much, so I’ve grown accustomed to addressing other players by their real name, not the one they cooked up when they made the account. Or would you rather it remain unknown?”
“No, not at all. Simply, no one’s every asked about it before. My name’s Daniel, or simply Dan.”
“Wonderful! Then, Dan, show me what else you have that’s interesting.”
“…?”
“Okay, I can get it myself,” Stacey scooted over beside me and stuck her hand into the
holy of holies of any player: his private bag. Oh right! I was going to adjust the access settings to it, but never got around to it…Okay, no point in regretting it now—Stacey didn’t seem afflicted by kleptomania anyway.
“Danny, you don’t mind telling me how you managed to acquire an item that the Dwarven King would give half his kingdom for?” asked Stacey, retrieving Borhg’s Gladir and brandishing it above her head like a torch. Blazing like the sun and dispersing the encroaching dusk, Gladir turned the evening into bright noon, allowing us to see the finest details of our gondola and of the masonry that lined the canal’s banks. Unable to restrain myself, I began to record a video—the sight unfolding before my eyes was that glorious.
“All right, put it away,” said the girl after she had had enough. She returned it to me without having received an answer from me about where I had acquired the little wonder. Perhaps she was merely saving that conversation for later. After all, besides the Gladir, I also had…“I’m afraid to ask what that is,” said Stacey taking the Crastil of Shalaar from the bag. Spinning the orb in her hands and at a loss for its purpose, she returned it almost instantly. “So are you going to tell me or are you going to play the rebel and force me to interrogate you? I must warn you—my preferred methods are quite sadistic.” With her hot breath, Stacey whispered those last words right in my face.
“You know, I wouldn’t mind being a rebel,” I managed, trying my best to stay still. A pretty girl is located no more than several centimeters from me, and if I make even a small nervous step, this bewitching moment might evaporate and I will surely awake back in my bed in the hotel. For, it is incredibly hard to believe that not only is Anastaria here beside me—after all, young women as a rule enjoy being social—but that she is not planning on leaving me.
“Very well,” meowed my tormentor, holding up a scroll, and a curtain of Invisibility shrouded the boat. “Then the torture shall commence.”
I can say only one thing—as a rebel, I’m so-so.
* * *
“Altameda…” said Anastaria pensively, staring into the Dating House ceiling. “I’m still a bit miffed you didn’t tell me this right away…”
“Stacey, I already explained what happened.” Lying beside the girl, I was staring in the same spot she was, albeit, seeing something entirely different. Unicorns were prancing, butterflies were flitting, flowers were budding and a rainbow was shimmering before my eyes. I felt good…
“I know…It’s just that…What do you think I was doing this morning instead of jumping into the game? I was looking around for any mention of Urusai. Not just the castle, but anything at all.”
“And, how’d it go?”
“I only found one thing. Urusai is one of the ancient demons in Naga mythology. The only thing that’s known about him is that he was scary. Other than that, there’s not a single mention.”
“So it follows that…”
“Precisely. This very demon is ensconced in our castle, awaiting our arrival. It’s almost too bad they gave us titles. We could have gotten married and entered Altameda together. As it stands, you will have to play the hand that’s been dealt us…as per usual.” The girl turned to me and asked me out of the blue: “Say, Dan, is there a Mrs. Mahan waiting for you somewhere out there in reality? Mournfully crossing off day after day in her calendar? I’d like to have an idea of whom I might have to split you with.”
“I don’t require splitting. I’m a single entity, indivisible. As for Mrs. Mahan—unfortunately, in my thirty years I haven’t been so lucky as to encounter her. I actually don’t have anyone at all, back there, out there.”
“Your parents?”
“They’ve been dead seven years now. Imitators were only introduced to transportation five years ago…although, no, it’s six now. Prior to that, people would drive on their own and my parents…”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…”
“It’s no big deal. Actually, Stacey, I have a similar question for you—can I call you my girl or is what happened today a terrible secret to be kept sealed under seven seals, lest—Eluna forbid—Mr., uh, Mr. Anastar finds out about it? I just realized I don’t know your last name.”
“Not many do,” the girl replied, moving closer to me. My name is Anastaria Zv---kaya, and I’d be happy to be your girlfriend. Hmm…Sounds like some kind of promise or something…”
“But you still haven’t answered my question.”
“I’m not sure how to answer it. Officially, I’m not spoken for. However, there is a person who has grown accustomed to thinking of me as his bride.”
“Bride?” I even did a double-take at this dramatic confession.
“Yeah…In all, I’ve had three boyfriends. The most famous of them was Hellfire. Oh don’t look at me like that. When you spend a very long time with a man, sooner or later, you begin to feel sympathy for him. We spent almost four years together, until I finally understood that you can’t change Hell. Hellfire and compromise are two utterly different concepts, belonging to different universes. So we split. Or more accurately, I left him. I don’t think Hell has let me go yet. To this day, he believes I belong to him. Sends me gifts and invitations to meet up in the game as well as in reality. At some point I even wanted to leave Phoenix—but dad stopped me…”
“Dad?” I echoed, trying to straighten my contorted face. Despite our current relations, I didn’t want to reveal the information I had.
“Well yeah, Ehkiller, the head of Phoenix. I doubt I could’ve managed to accomplish much in this game if it weren’t for him. From the very outset he would invite me to clan meetings. He taught me and forced me to think for myself…It was he who insisted that I receive two higher degrees and work toward a third. It was he who made me head of analytics for Phoenix, even though seven years ago, when I started there, I made such logical blunders that I blush now to remember them. He made me into the Anastaria that Barliona knows, so I feel nothing but gratitude for him.”
“How did he lose you to me then?”
“Do you think he had a choice? He and I decided long ago that I was free to go off on my own whenever I felt like it—and that I could always return to Phoenix if I wanted to too. By the way, do you know why it’s called Phoenix? You’re about to become the third person inducted in a global secret. Phoenix was the name of the dog that lived with us for thirty years and passed only a couple before Barliona was launched. My dad loved the old guy so much that he named the clan in his honor. Everyone calls us fried chickens, but he and I just laugh, remembering Phoenix. He loved chicken very much…”
We spent the next three hours speaking. Improvising a vacation for ourselves by ignoring the clan chat and our mailboxes, we asked each other about everything we could think of—beginning with what schools we had attended and ending with who thought what about the other when Anastaria and Hellfire first caught me near the Tin Ore outside of Beatwick. Embraced, we lay in the Dating House, playing the game of truth. I never considered this an interesting game until I played it with a person whom I liked so much. I don’t know what’s even more interesting—to listen or to tell…both were unbelievably pleasant!
The next morning found me in the Jewelry Workshop. Two days remained until the trip to the Werebeasts, Barsa and Anastaria were occupied with recruitment, Plinto was doing something unpleasant with the Raiders (the chat periodically registered complaints about his orders), Eric had submitted himself to the Emperor and was engrossed in leveling up his Smithing…I didn’t know what Leite and Clutzer were up to, but I was sure they too had business, so exercising my privilege as clan head, I dropped everything, equipped my Crafting items (including my brand new Gladir) and got done to work. After the night with Stacey, I was filled with such emotions that even the bartender NPC, who would typically occupy the bar in the hotel, inquired with surprise why I was suddenly glowing.
Design mode greeted me with its customary dimness. Divided in several blocks, it contained all the images and items I had recently worked on
. Wire, rings, chains, amulets—everything that I could recreate took up the majority of the workspace. Each block in turn was divided by item class—Rare, Epic, Unusual—allowing me to find the item I needed to recreate as quickly as possible. Another block contained those players that I had created in the Cursed Chess Set—all 32 people, almost half of whom were no longer in Malabar.
The shelf of Unique Items which I could never recreate was located beside the players’ block: virtual images of chess pieces, Kameamia, the Ring of Driall, and the Cursed Chess Set. Despite their simplicity, these objects drew my attention, making it hard to ignore them. A funny name for them popped into my head—goodiness. I am so happy that these virtual images can’t be taken from me that, recalling the Dragon Smaug who so relished his gold, I too basked in their beauty. I would have to do something about that, or else some hobbit might appear and strip me of my design mode. That would be quite bad.
The Phantom Castle (The Way of the Shaman: Book #4) LitRPG series Page 16