“I’m walking the same way. We could at least keep company for a while,” Amit said.
They walked in silence as the awkwardness seeped away. After a few minutes, Amit cleared his throat. “What’s it like?” he asked.
“Walking?”
Amit laughed. “No, Ranjeet, what’s it like not being rich anymore?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not dumb, even though I just read a script for a living. I can see the signs.”
“Right,” Ranjeet said. He searched for the words to express the change, to speak about how everyone treated him differently, about how his parents suffered, about how he’d had to give up on his schooling to make money, but the only thing that came to mind was her. “I used to be engaged. I’m not anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” Amit said softly, “I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay,” Ranjeet meant it, but he couldn’t keep the pain from his voice.
After a long pause, Amit asked, “What was she like?”
“She—Daru—is lovely, she’s smart, thoughtful, and she keeps me guessing.”
“How is that a good thing? The guessing part?”
Ranjeet smiled into the distance, “Because she’s a mystery that I could never stop solving.”
Amit smiled. “You like puzzles very much, don’t you?”
“What?” It took Ranjeet a moment to bring his thoughts back to the conversation. “Oh, yeah. I like puzzles.”
“Like the emails?”
Ranjeet couldn’t think of a response, his thoughts kept drifting to Daru.
“That must be tough,” Amit’s voice dropped lower, “not being able to work on the puzzle.”
“I—” Ranjeet started to respond, but a scream in the distance cut him off. He looked over at Amit with a question in his eyes. Amit nodded an instant before Ranjeet took off running toward the sound. Amit followed close behind.
The scream rang out again. Ranjeet sped up and darted around a corner, following the sound. He expected to be one man in a crowd standing up against a gang trying to take a woman away. The instances had gotten fewer, but they still happened from time to time.
Ranjeet’s shoes skidded on the still-wet pavement as he stopped. Amit nearly plowed into his back as they saw a woman lying on the ground in the middle of a square surrounded by hunched shadows. Ranjeet and Amit exchanged a hard look. The country had worked too hard for too long to eradicate this problem. They weren’t going to let it continue in their city.
Together they ran straight toward the woman and her attackers, shouting loudly so everyone within earshot would know to call the police. Their boldness shocked the attackers, but the attackers weren’t who—or what—Ranjeet thought.
As they neared they saw not young men, but creatures from a nightmare. They hunched over the woman, clawing at her body with their long, grotesque fingers. Their arms looked like knotted ropes as veins bulged and shifted beneath ash-gray skin. But it was their bulbous, red, hate-filled eyes that cut into Ranjeet’s courage.
He uttered a prayer under his breath as he shouldered past the creatures, barely even slowing as he bent down to snatch the woman’s hand. She moaned as he pulled her up, but stayed with him. By the time the beasts realized what Ranjeet had planned, the two were on the opposite side of the abandoned square. He kept running until his ward stumbled. Ranjeet stopped and saw that none of the abominations had followed.
“Are you…” he didn’t even know what to ask.
“Thank. You,” she said, taking a breath between each word.
Ranjeet looked around for Amit, but couldn’t see him anywhere. He was just about to go looking for his absent friend, when he heard a shout. Ranjeet turned to see Amit emerging from an alleyway.
“Sorry,” he was breathing heavily. “After you grabbed her, they scattered and some came toward me. I ran through the alleys to get around them.”
“It’s okay,” Ranjeet said, “just help me get her to the hospital.”
They took the woman to the emergency ward. After making sure she was taken care of and her family was with her, Ranjeet and Amit left. The two parted ways at the door of the hospital, each heading home for the precious few hours of sleep remaining that night.
* * *
“They’re called Pishacha.”
Ranjeet spun around, looking for the voice that had answered the question in his head. He was nearly home and had been trying to figure out what he’d come across in that darkened square. He did not, however, expect an auditory hallucination as a response. And he was most certainly not expecting to see a Caucasian baby, with the leaves of some northern tree snagged in his disheveled hair, leering at him with an all too adult expression.
The creature, who hovered before Ranjeet’s face, bowed low before speaking again. “I am Puck and you, good sir, are lucky to be alive. The Pishacha are nasty creatures.”
“What are they? What are you? Who—”
Puck cut him off, “You, sir, ought to know your own legends better than I, but I shall say this, their hunger would put even the Dark Queen to shame. They are yearning to break out of their world and the Dark Queen wishes to help them, for if there is one path from the realms of legend, then all such creatures could learn to use it.” Puck finished his soliloquy with a wild chuckle and a pirouette in midair.
“Are you trying to say—”
“I have said what I will say and won’t say what I can’t.” The imp bowed again but let the motion turn into a complete somersault before he started floating away.
“Wait,” Ranjeet called, “what am I supposed to do?”
“Do what you must; do what you were meant to and solve the riddle. But do not tarry, for on Onam Eve the veil will be torn and the Pishacha will come.”
Ranjeet shouted, “Do you mean the emails? Are you talking about Feyland? What about the Pishacha?”
There was no response. Ranjeet fumbled for his key and put it in the lock when he heard a whisper in his ear.
“Help your brother’s boat across, and your own will reach the shore.”
Ranjeet turned to look for Puck, but only the creature’s laughter remained. He went upstairs to the small flat he shared with his parents and thought on the last words spoken to him, the same words that his mother loved to say. It was an old Hindu proverb that she repeated to him when he wanted to be selfish instead of helping someone else.
Ranjeet eased the door open to avoid waking his parents. He found some cold rice and curry in the kitchen and made himself a plate before sitting down with his tablet. First he looked up the Pishacha. They were an Indian demon that could feed on the energy—or bodies—of people. The descriptions varied, but clearly what he’d seen in that darkened square were Pishacha.
Puck was next. Most of the links pointed to Shakespeare, which he vaguely remembered from school, but Ranjeet soon discovered that Puck had been a legend long before the time of Shakespeare just as the Pishacha had been the subject of stories in India for millennia. Ranjeet had never paid much attention to old stories and myths. He thought them antiques that didn’t apply to his world of computers and puzzles. But tonight he’d seen two of them in reality.
If Puck and the Pishacha are real, Ranjeet thought, then what else might be real? He opened his email and looked over the messages he’d forwarded to himself. He started with the most recent one and started looking for mythological creatures that matched the description given to him by 2uluW@rrior. There were so many possibilities, so many myths from all around the world. Ranjeet was about to give up for the night and get some sleep. He stared at his screen without seeing as the pieces of the puzzle danced around in his mind.
Through his unfocused gaze, the username wavered and he saw the meaning intended: Zulu Warrior. He’d seen something about Africa in one of his searches. After just a few moments of furious typing, he found the Zulu myth of the Tikoloshe that perfectly matched the description given in the support ticket. It only took him a few more minutes to match
the other support tickets to their different cultural myths. There was a Vodnik from someone in the Czech Republic, there a Pixiu from China, a Chupacabra from Mexico, and a Taniwha from New Zealand.
They were all legendary creatures from different cultures and somehow they were getting into the game and people were seeing myths from their own cultures rather than the Feyland game. And, they were all real. Ranjeet had to discover what that meant before Onam Eve, the beginning of the celebration where the legendary King Mahabali was said to return from the underworld and bless good children. Onam Eve—which was only a week away.
* * *
Ranjeet rubbed his eyes. The calls and emails blurred together and, in some ways, his job became easier. Reading a script and never pausing to consider the people or the puzzles they brought let the ever-present knot in Ranjeet’s stomach relax. His mind wandered to the myths of the world and to the words of Puck: “Do not tarry, for on Onam Eve will the veil be torn and the Pishacha roam freely.”
When Amit arrived Ranjeet used the corporate instant message client to say, Are you okay? We need to talk.
Amit responded with one word, Lunch.
Ranjeet used the barest sliver of his mind to help people and the rest of his thoughts wrestled the mystery. He barely noticed the emails, he scanned the text for the keywords, tapped out the shortcut for the canned responses, and sent off the reply. He was just about to log off for his lunch break when an email that he’d just answered came back. They weren’t supposed to do that. They were supposed to go back to the bottom of the queue.
System: UNKNOWN
Program: Feyland
User: RhymeTom
Issue: Ranjeet, you must enter Feyland tonight!
He stared at the screen for a long moment before he could make his mind form thoughts. With the thoughts came the knot in his stomach. No one emailing through the system should be able to reach him directly. No one should be able to know his name—even his pseudonym of Roger, but especially not his actual name.
He quickly logged out of the phone system so he wouldn’t get another call, then tried to reply. Ranjeet’s fingers floated above the letters, twitching slightly as different responses warred in his mind. He took a deep breath and held it as his fingers typed.
He jumped when his IM notification sounded. Amit was asking if he was going to join him in the cafeteria. Ranjeet said he was on the way and moved back to answer the email, but when he selected it, the message displayed an error. He couldn’t respond and when he refreshed the queue the entire email chain was gone.
* * *
Ranjeet joined Amit in the cafeteria, but couldn’t bring himself to pile food onto the boiling fear in his guts. Amit, however, ate enough of the bland, curry-like substance for the both of them. Over the sound of various workers coming and going from their meals, Ranjeet told Amit everything about Puck, about the mythical creatures, and about the most recent email. Amit digested the tale with his food. After a long silence he looked up at Ranjeet with a worried frown.
“What is it?” Ranjeet asked.
“You won’t like what you have to do.”
“What?”
“You need a Full-D system, right?” Amit began ticking things off on his fingers.
“Yes.”
“And there’s no way you can afford one…”
“Right.”
“And most of the people you know either work here or live in the apartment complex with you…”
“Okay.” Ranjeet felt his palms grow slick with sweat.
“So you have to ask Daru.”
Ranjeet’s face matched Amit’s expression. He was right, but Ranjeet hated him for it. His ex-fiancé, Daru Padmanabhan, had not agreed with her father’s decision to call off the marriage. But neither had she fought him when Ranjeet suggested that they elope. She told him that they would then both be poor and outcast. She told him that she would lose her whole family if she rejected her father’s wishes.
Ranjeet shook his head.
“But what about the email?” Amit asked.
Ranjeet shook his head.
“But what about Puck?”
Ranjeet shook his head.
Amit’s voice dropped to the barest whisper, “What about the Pishacha attacking women in the streets?”
Ranjeet dropped his head.
* * *
Daru was as beautiful as Ranjeet remembered, and her house as opulent. After living in run-down apartments with his parents, Ranjeet felt at once more comfortable in the lavish environs, and out of place as a failure amongst the trappings of success.
“Come in,” Daru said, “Both of you come in.”
Amit had accompanied Ranjeet after they got off work. Together they took the long ride on the transit system to the wealthy neighborhood in Kochi where the Padmanabhan family lived. Daru answered the door herself, though she did not have to, and ushered them into a comfortable sitting room filled with all the trappings of wealth that Ranjeet had left behind. From the deep, soft carpet to the rows of shelves with antique books on them, the surrounds bespoke luxury to the point of excess.
“Ranjeet, it’s been too long,” Daru gestured to a couch as she sat in a nearby chair. Amit sat on the edge of the deeply cushioned seat as one afraid of damaging a fragile treasure, while Ranjeet readily sank into its softness.
He paused to gather his courage. “Daru, we need to borrow your Full-D system tonight. It’s important.”
“How do you know I have—” Daru began before Amit cut her off.
“We work for VirtuMax’s new call center. We can look up account holders, but we’re not supposed to.”
Ranjeet continued the thought, “We’ve been working on a Feyland issue and we need to test it out on a Full-D system. You’re the only one I know who has one.”
Daru responded with a silent Oh.
Ranjeet bit his lip before continuing, “There are some strange things going on that I’m not sure you’d believe, but there’s something important that I have to do.”
“What makes you think I wouldn’t believe you?” Daru spoke the words toward Ranjeet’s knees instead of his face.
“It’s… complicated.”
She caught his eyes as a smile played across her lips. “Most of our relationship is complicated, so I’m used to it.”
Ranjeet swallowed hard. Telling her about the legendary creatures scared him far more than showing up at her house and asking to use her gaming system. He inhaled and rubbed his damp palms across his knees.
“I think Feyland might be more than just a game.”
“What do you mean?”
Amit interrupted and told Daru bluntly and quickly about everything that had happened, including the Pishacha attack. He suggested visiting the poor woman that the creatures had nearly killed, if she had any more doubts. Daru didn’t say anything when he finished. The three of them sat for a long time as Daru processed what she’d heard. Ranjeet was tensing to stand up and leave when she spoke.
“Okay.” That was all she said.
She got up and led them down the hall and up the stairs to a room with her Full-D system. She gestured to one of the chairs. Ranjeet sat down and started pulling on the headset and gloves, but before Amit could do anything, Daru sat in the other chair and mirrored Ranjeet’s movements.
“What?” Ranjeet exclaimed.
Daru calmly sat back in the chair and ignored him. She pulled the visor over her eyes and began navigating the system menu. Ranjeet hurried to join her in the virtual waiting room.
“Why are you—” Ranjeet began.
“It’s my system, my game, my login, and my city that needs to be saved,” Daru snapped at him. “Do you have a login for Feyland?”
“Huh?”
Daru sighed, “We can create you one.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Ranjeet rushed through the character creation process, not making any changes to the avatar. If he was right, it wouldn’t matter anyway. None of the people that had sent
him support tickets had looked like their avatars. He did pick his usual class for gaming though, a rogue. Ranjeet was always more interested in solving the puzzles than tanking through mobs of bad guys.
The flaming title of the game appeared floating before him before fading away and revealing a circle of polished stones on the ground. He knew instantly—mostly from reading the same script a thousand times—this was not the way Feyland was supposed to begin. There was the circle he expected, but it was supposed to be made of mushrooms and the circle was meant to be in a forest. Instead he saw polished stones sitting on the white sand of a long beach with palm trees in the distance.
He looked over to see Daru standing tall in shining armor covered by a bright surcoat of silk embroidered with fanciful patterns. Her greaves and bracers flashed in the sun as she turned and smiled at Ranjeet. With a whoop she brandished her war axe and round shield. The breeze caught the peacock’s plume on her helm and set the colors to shimmering.
“What did you expect,” Daru smirked at Ranjeet, “some sort of priestess? I like to get in there and fight—though the missions in Feyland have been nothing like advertised. Still, it’s been fun.”
Ranjeet followed as she stepped confidently out of the circle of stones. He checked himself to find a crossbow with bolts, and a brace of throwing knives.
“Where are we going?” Ranjeet asked.
Daru didn’t break stride as she spoke the words over her shoulder, “To see the king, of course.”
Ranjeet hurried to keep up. Daru had always been confident, perhaps even too confident to be proper at times, but in the game she didn’t hide it.
“The king?”
“The king of the underworld, King Mahabali. He’s the ruler in this game. He gives out the best and hardest quests. I’ve seen him a few times while playing, but usually I don’t have the time to run any of his quests.”
“But…” Ranjeet tried to comprehend what he was hearing, a task made that much more difficult because of the person from whom he was hearing it. “You’ve been playing all this time and you haven’t seen the Dark Queen or any of the normal characters for Feyland?”
Chronicle Worlds: Feyland Page 25