by Matt Moss
What? It’s what I’ve been hailed as.
“Slayer of the first Daemon. Wielder of Thal’s Sword of Eternity,” I add.
“I see no sword,” another says.
I stand tall. “It was stolen from me, taken from my corpse after becoming poisoned. I was betrayed.” My gaze jumps to each one. “I’m going to get it back.”
“You lack strength.”
“Though, he does not lack courage,” the first one says, seemingly impressed.
These things can see through to me? Do they see my insecurities as well?
A moaning wind. “But your soul is clouded, the light within is shrouded by darkness. And the darkness grows. What is it that you want?”
Don’t judge me. You don’t know me. My soul’s not clouded or dark.
“I want freedom.”
“Freedom? Or do you seek power?”
“Power is freedom.”
The six disappear and reappear around the room and communicate with one another through wisps and whispers that only they speak.
“What of your friends? Your family?”
“Leave my family out of this,” I threaten, turning to face each one of them as they surround me.
One looms close. “What would they think if you were to kill someone?”
“I’m doing it for them. I have no choice.”
One of them draws closer and pulls up just short of touching my arm. I raise my hand to show them, and the being makes a gasping sound. “You bare the mark,” it hisses.
The other five roil and tempest.
“The mark? You know what this is? Some crazy guy did this to me and now I’m running on a death clock. That’s why I’m here. I need your guidance.”
“The mark brings death to all. You are cursed and will curse this world.”
“And the next,” another adds.
“I just want to be free—free of this mark, free of everything.” I raise my palm to them again. “Tell me how I can get rid of this and I’ll gladly do whatever it takes.”
“Your life is forfeit,” one of them says.
“Fuck you, steam leak. No, it’s not,” I reply.
Again, they appear on the other side of the room and murmur amongst themselves. After seeming to reach an agreement, the first one speaks.
“If it is power that you seek, then you must beseech a god, because there is none more powerful.”
“How do I find this god?”
A skeleton key appears from its wispy hand and is offered to me. “Far to the north you will find the god you seek. Go to the southern face of the tallest mountain, past the great lake. The light of the moon will show you the way.”
“Remember, Ace the Great, with every choice, there is a reaction. In this life and the next. Choose carefully what you do next.”
Sure. Nice little fortune cookie advice there.
I hold the key up before leaving. “Thank you.”
As I leave the room, the six whirl around the high ceiling of the tower. When I reach the ground, I can see them roil outside of the room high above at the tip of the spire.
What the hell was that all about?
This game is weird as shit.
With nearly losing my life in the gazer temple, and believing that the leader of the most dangerous guild in Alterlife is the prime suspect behind my assassination, I need to take a break.
I need some fresh air and sunshine. Real fresh air and sunshine.
I’ve been logged into the game now for about seventy hours straight, and to my surprise, I haven’t defecated on myself.
I lie still for a minute and let my senses come back to reality. It’s hard to explain, but I imagine it to be something like a hangover, but worse.
Head’s fuzzy. Head hurts. Eyes burn. Body aches and is fatigued to the point that I can barely move. But the micro dose of cocaine has helped, and I haven’t felt the need to sleep.
Still, it takes me thirty minutes to gather enough sense to want to stand up.
A burning sensation comes from my groin in doing so.
“Oh, yeah. How could I forget about that?” I take the catheter out and feel oddly numb to the pain, like my body doesn’t even care. Part cocaine, and part because it’s so depleted on food right now, that I’m pretty sure that’s all it really cares about.
After taking the IV out of my arm, it’s time to test my legs. Slowly, I use the bathtub for balance as I throw my legs out to stand.
I pick up the phone that’s been sitting on the toilet and turn it on. My first few steps are slow but walking quickly becomes more familiar to me. Thinking only of food now, I open some beef ravioli and eat it straight out of the can.
The phone beeps. A day-old text message from my wife telling me that she loves me and can’t wait to hear my voice.
Water from the tap. A bag of potato chips. I can’t even finish the ravioli because my stomach has shrunk. They really should advertise Alterlife as the miracle diet. Lose thirty pounds in two weeks. Granted, it’s not the healthiest option, but it works.
I pull back the curtains and open the blinds. Bright sunlight nearly blinds me. In nothing but a white t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, I walk out of the room and step onto the covered walk that runs the length of the building.
Hair’s a mess and breath smells like roadkill. Still, the fresh air and the sunlight feel good.
“Rough night?” a man that I didn’t notice asks from my right. He’s sitting on the ground and smoking a cigarette.
“You could say that.”
“Smoke?” He taps a cig halfway out of the soft pack and offers it to me.
“No, thank you.”
“Why not? Too good to take a black man’s smoke? You ain’t one of those white-power, racist sumbitches, are you?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No. I just don’t smoke. Never have.”
When I was young, my parents and all their friends would get together and smoke inside the house. Even while all the kids played inside. It was just normal for people to do that then. Needless to say, I’ve had enough secondhand smoke to last a lifetime.
He cocks his head at me like I’m lying. “Any man who comes to this hotel… looking like that and says he doesn’t smoke,” he points at me and chuckles. “Is a damn liar.”
Can life get any crazier?
Why the hell not? One couldn’t hurt, and maybe it’ll take some of the edge off.
“Give me that,” I tell him and take the cigarette from the pack. He offers me the lighter.
I’m careful not to pull in too much smoke because I know how bad it’ll burn my virgin lungs. So I only take a little bit each time. After three drags, I can feel my body mellowing, thankful for nicotine in my blood once again, missing my can of chewing tobacco.
He flicks the ashes and pulls a deep draw, speaking through the smoke as it leaves his mouth. “So, what you doing in a place like this, son? Young man like yourself ought to leave this place to the old losers like me. This is a place for lost folk, and you don’t look like the lost type.”
“You shouldn’t call yourself a loser,” I tell him.
He takes a drag and grins. “You know, I used to be like you. Wide-eyed and ready to take on the world. No matter the cost.”
Looking into his eyes, I can see the reflection of a man that’s lived a hard life.
He continues and points the cigarette at me. “But don’t you lay false claims on me. If I say that I’m a loser, then that’s what I am. I’ve made my mistakes and earned that title. Trust me.” He turns his head away and speaks softly. “I’ve earned it, every bit.”
As we smoke in silence, I try to wrap my head around my life. The other week, I knew nothing of Alterlife. Now look at me. Powerful. So near to all of my heart’s desires, I can almost taste it.
Then I look at the mark on my hand and feel the aching, tired body. A papier-mâché shell of a man.
“I don’t know. Maybe I am lost. Just trying to make my way, you know what I mean?” I tell him
.
“Lord, do I. Been tryin’ to make my way my whole life. And look where I’m at now. Not to say that wasn’t for tryin’ though. I tried to live right. Played by the rules. Did what a man’s supposed to do. And yet, here I sit… talking to some cracked out cracker at a roach motel.”
“Hey, take it easy on the name calling,” I tell him with a grin, nearly choking on my smoke.
He laughs. “I’m just bull-shittin’ ya. Seriously though, I did everything the way the world told me to.” He shakes his head and looks across the parking lot. “Sometimes life just doesn’t work out the way you’d want. And there’s no rhyme or reason for it. No lessons to be learned that would change anything. The way I see it, some folks are just born to lose.”
I take a drag. Maybe he’s right.
I was born to lose.
But I’m not going down without a fight.
The man stretches his hand towards me. “Name’s Nehemiah. What’s yours?”
I shake his hand. “Ace. Er, I mean, John.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Thanks for the smoke.”
He inclines a nod.
“Well, I better be going back in now. I got work to do.”
Nehemiah puts the cigarette out on the concrete and shakes his head. “I don’t even wanna know.”
I leave him sitting there, gazing out across the concrete wasteland.
It’s been nice taking a break. Nice to talk to someone. But I don’t have time to waste. I have to jump back in and get at it.
Standing in front of the bathtub, I look at the NueView, the catheter, the full IV bag that I just replaced and laced with cocaine. Another world is calling me to leave this one. A better world. One without limits. One that’s mine for the taking.
I’m done with losing.
After I hook myself back up to all of the equipment, I stare at the photo of my wife and kids.
“I’m doing this for you all. No more scraping by. I swear I’ll give you a life worth living.”
You’re doing this for yourself, not for them. Quit lying to yourself about it.
Tears fall from my eyes.
“No. I’m doing this for you all.”
13
IN SEARCH OF A GOD
5 DAYS REMAINING
In a small town east of Eden, I purchase a mount and plenty of food to feed it over the long journey to the north. One day, maybe I’ll be lucky enough to have a Nightmare of my own like the previous commander of the Black Knights had. A horse like that would be handy to have in battle, and could save my life if need be. I would even dare say that, with a horse like that, I could take on five Elder Gazers by myself. But they’re rare and very expensive. They can only be obtained by a Grandmaster Tamer, and that’s one of the hardest skills to max out in the game. Fifty thousand was the last price I saw a Tamer selling a Nightmare for outside the bank in Condren.
I grin to myself. At the rate I’m going, I could have one in a day or two.
But that’s about the price of that Chevy Tahoe my wife’s always wanted. It’s her dream car. She’s even cut out photos of it and glued it on her ‘dream board’.
I’ll buy you that car soon, baby, just you wait and see. Together, we’ll stroll right up to the dealer and you’ll pick out which one you want. And just wait for the look that they’ll give us; the one that says we can’t afford it and that we’re crazy. Then… wham! Pay for it in cash.
The mere thought delights my soul.
The horse carries me to the far north, keeping far to the east of Condren, high into the northern plains with vast fields, rolling hills, and high mountain peaks. According to the map, there are no big cities in this part of the world. Just a few small towns scattered here and there. But the terrain seems ripe for hunting, and I’m sure there’s treasure to be found in the various caves that I’ve seen from the small road that I’m on.
I’ve also noticed that there aren’t too many players this far north, which surprises me. Maybe the hunting’s not that good. And there’s not many towns to trade in, so I guess the lack of people makes sense.
According to the Mystics, a god resides up here. Who knows? They could be sending me on a wild goose chase. The Amulet hasn’t grown warm or shown me anything since I left the tower.
It would at least be nice to know that I’m going in the right direction, I tell it.
The Guildmaster fills my thoughts. Professor D. He’s first to go. Then Deakins. I try not to think about the Gamemaster just yet. I don’t want to kill him, but I know that I have to. And something tells me that killing a Gamemaster won’t be easy. That’s why I need my items back from the Guildmaster. I’m going to need everything I can get to go against Deakins. And if the Professor truly is guilty of poisoning me, well, I’d be lying if I said revenge wasn’t on my mind.
My accomplices, Deana and Gage, are gathering information on the guild’s next raid while I’m away in the north. The Black Knights usually coordinate a raid every Friday. That’s when I’m going to take out the Professor. If all goes well, that’ll leave me a few days afterwards to take care of Deakins.
The rolling hills turn into mountainous terrain, the road barren and rocky. I travel for a few more hours, always heading north, and the thought of turning back is constantly on my mind.
It’s the promise of glory that drives me on.
Just when I begin to question whether or not I’m lost, from the top of the next crest I see the giant mountain looming in the distance, the massive lake in front of it. Just like the Mystics described.
“That’s gotta be the one.”
It has to be.
At least now I can see where I’m going.
The great lake lies in front of the mountain and forces me to take the long way around. It’s at least another two hours, and I’m really starting to regret this journey. It’s cost me twelve hours so far, and that’s time that could have been spent leveling up and earning loot.
“This better be worth it.”
I reach the base of the mountain at the last light of day, and hope that I’m lucky enough to find the door by the light of the moon. I’ve seen enough movies and played enough games to know that moonlight can reveal certain things like magical runes or keyholes, so the Mystics were probably telling the truth. I ride to the top of a nearby hill and scan the base of the mountain as far as I can see in both directions, picking out the best possible spot that I think the door might be, and waiting for the sun to set.
Walking to the smooth rock face that I saw from the hill, I see it’s the size of a large, three-story house. It’s the one feature that stood out to me, so I figure it stands the best chance of being a door of some sort.
Night fell about an hour ago, but the sky is cloud-covered, the land, dark. An hour goes by and nothing changes. As it seems, the cloud cover might last all night.
Figures. Now I have two choices: wait another twenty-four hours and hope for better weather, or teleport back to town and try to catch up for all this time I’ve lost.
I pace back and forth. Could really use a cigarette right now.
Thirty minutes go by and my mind’s made up. I’m calling this a wash and going back to town.
No sooner than I pull the teleport from my inventory, the sky breaks open and moonlight washes over the land. I turn to the stone wall, wide-eyed and hoping for a little luck. I run towards it to get a better look.
There, gleaming ever so softly, is the keyhole.
I place the skeleton key inside and give it a turn. Nothing happens.
I step back with a scowl.
Just as I’m about to curse it all, the key turns into dust and the ground begins to shake. The door rumbles and struggles to open, swinging outward, but managing to plow through the soft ground.
I backpedal out of the way and stand in front of the great entrance.
A warm blast of air hits me in the face, and the light of a fire burns from deep within the chamber.
The Amulet grows hot against
my chest.
“Oh, hello. Nice of you to finally show up,” I tell it.
It burns my skin; hotter than ever before.
“Ouch. What the hell?” I pull it from my chest and place it over the top of my armor.
Cautiously, I enter the mountain. Fires spark to life from both sides of the path as I walk through the cave. But it doesn’t take long to reach my destination as one right turn leads me into a single great room.
Upon a great throne made of bone sits Thal, the God of War.
I’ve seen it all now.
I approach, a small child in size comparison, as he adjusts himself in his seat, curious as to why I’m here.
Rippled with muscle and covered with ancient markings upon his skin that glow in iridescent shades of blue and red, his head is shaved and a long, black goatee sits on his face. The outer portion of his stone-cold eyes are painted black, and they bear down upon me; no doubt wondering how I came to this place, as he probably hasn’t seen a visitor in quite some time.
“Tell me, mortal, how did you come by the knowledge of this place?” his voice booms, deep and threatening.
“I beseeched the Mystics and they told me the way. Pardon my ignorance, but who are you?” I ask, but already know. It’s just in my nature to want to piss people off who are in authority.
He laughs arrogantly, but I can tell that my question offends him. “I am Thal, God of War. I have lived through the ages and have seen the creation of man. I have conquered Lathan the Fallen, and the horde of demons. I helped create the stars in the sky, and shaped the land upon which you stand. By my hand, I have destroyed the city of Azulis and have championed myself the greatest among the gods. And who might you be, insignificant human?”
“Ace the Great. You may have heard of me.”
“Never heard of you.”
“Never? Really? Slayer of Daemons? Wielder of your weapons?”
He sits up straight, eager to hear more. “You have my Sword of Eternity? Where is it?”
“I had your sword. But I was betrayed. Murdered. Then imprisoned. The one who killed me took the sword. And I’m going to get it back.”