Arrival: Legends of Arenia Book 1 (A LitRPG Story)

by P. A. Parsons

  “And you believe I will share yours?” Rosie snapped. Even Darius’s brow took on a dark look. “Do you realize what an insult that is?”

  “Oh, for sure,” Mark said. “But we have stories of faeries even where I come from. And the Faerie Queen is always a big deal in those stories.”

  “Yes, but I don’t see what—” Realization dawned on Rosie’s face. She closed her eyes and dropped her head. “I see where you’re going with this.”

  “Yeah,” Mark said sadly. “You’re going to tell the Faerie Queen about me, aren’t you?”

  Rosie nodded.

  “Which means you can’t promise to keep my secret.”

  Darius cleared his throat. “Lad… what do you gain by destroying my family? Palmyre won’t take kindly to a full-blood faerie living within its walls. Faeries are not known for playing well with others.”

  “To be honest, I’d prefer not to say anything,” Mark said. “But if you’re going to share my secret, I’d like something in return for keeping yours.”

  “You’re blackmailing us?” Darius said incredulously.

  “That’s a bit of a harsh term,” Mark said. “You just told me that being a Legend is a huge secret that I don’t want getting out, but the first thing you’re going to do when we get to Palmyre is tell the leader of a powerful magical species. I think I’m entitled to some ledger-balancing here.”

  Darius glared at him, clearly expecting something ridiculous. “Fine then. What do you want?”

  Mark smiled. “Lessons.”

  Darius and Rosie looked confused.

  “Lessons on what?” Rosie said.

  “Everything,” Mark answered. “I don’t know anything about Arenia, not even the things a child would know. I want to hang around your family and learn everything I can. Yes, you’re going to be reporting what you know back to the Faerie Queen, but at least I know who it is you’re reporting to.”

  “We’re hardly scholars, lad,” Darius said.

  “I don’t need a scholar. I need to understand this world. I want to be able to pummel you with questions about things you’ll probably think are general knowledge but are critical for me to understand.”

  “Like what?”

  “Everything! What Tomes are, how magic works, systems of measurement, how to go to the bathroom in a city, the currency. All of it.”

  “Aye, that’s really… that sure is the basics,” Darius said. “You really don’t know how a bathroom works?”

  “On Earth, sure. Not Arenia.”

  “Oi. Alright then. Is that it?”

  “Well, I’d also like you to throw in some armour for me if you don’t mind,” Mark said. “Nothing too fancy—I don’t want to get it stolen because my gear outlevels me.”

  Rosie chuckled. “That seems reasonable. Darius?”

  Before Darius could answer, Mark added one more thing. “I also want a promise from Rosie that if I ever need a meeting with the Faerie Queen, she’ll arrange it.”

  Rosie laughed outright and slapped her knee. “My dear boy! If you tried to go to the land of Faerie with anything less than 50 Levels of Renown and base Attributes below 30, your body would be torn apart by the magical energies alone. You’re what, 19 years old and only Level 10? You’ll never get there in one lifetime!”

  “I’m 20. But I’m also a Legend, remember?” Mark said with a shrug. “How many lifetimes do I need?”

  Rosie abruptly stopped laughing.

  “There is that,” she conceded. After a moment’s thought, she nodded. “Okay, I’ll agree. But first, I want to know how you were able to—”

  “Stop,” Mark said. “If you’re about to ask where my magic comes from, that’s not going to happen. Right now, you’re obligated to tell your queen, so the only way I keep that secret is if I don’t tell you at all.”

  Rosie’s brow pursed, but she nodded. “Fine. But that means I have no idea what you are capable of, and I will not bring a powerful entity into my land—one that can destroy nimh with a single spell—without either knowledge of their abilities or a pledge. If you want this favour from me, you must pledge not to harm anyone while in the land of faerie.”

  “No harm to anyone unless they do harm to me,” Mark clarified. The last thing he wanted was to get trapped into some kind of Aes Sedai word-handcuff situation on a hostile plane. They were faeries, after all.

  Rosie nodded. “So be it. At your request, I am bound to take you to visit the Faerie Queen. In return, you will not harm anyone unless they harm you.”

  “And no taking hostages and using them against me,” Mark said. “Or harming me or my friends, or trying to trap me in the realm of faerie, or putting me in some sort of time warp. And I define harm as ‘anything that might cause physiological, psychological, or magilogical damage in the short or long term to the bodies or statistics, or any other pertinent characteristics attached to me as an entity, or that of my friends, family, or allies.”

  Rosie gaped at him. When she recovered, she snapped at him in a clipped, indignant tone. “What kind of monsters do you think we are? Do you really want to include that… that disrespectful drivel?”

  She was so forceful in her response that Mark worried for a moment that his experience with fantasy novels had given him a prejudiced view of faeries. Those concerns were soon negated by Darius giving him a double-thumbs-up and nodding profusely behind Rosie’s back.

  “Yes, I do,” Mark said.

  She smiled with a twinkle in her eye. “Smart lad. Very well then; a compact has been made.”

  A vaguely unsettling feeling washed over Mark, and he could see a similar reaction from Rosie. A pair of contracts appeared in the air, both looking very gilded and formal, and they vanished into their respective Tomes as soon as they’d been read.

  A Faerie Compact Has Been Created

  The sylph Rosalind Poppyseed promises to bring you to the land of faeries to meet the Queen, at your behest, one time. In return, you will not harm anyone there unless they attempt to harm you. Additionally, the faeries are forbidden from: taking hostages to use against you, trying to trap you in the realm of faerie, putting you in “some sort of time warp” (whatever that means), or doing harm in a manner that might cause physiological, psychological, or magilogical damage in the short or long term to the bodies, statistics, or any other pertinent characteristics attached to you as an entity, or that of your friends, family, or allies.

  NOTE: Some jerk just won a thousand platinum on a ten silver bet that you’d make a faerie compact before getting to Palmyre. You’re like the Giving Tree for bad betters. Alarmingly comprehensive Compact though—did someone have problems with loan sharks in a past life?

  “For the record, ‘magilogical’ isn’t even a word,” Rosie pointed out.

  “I have no problems with that,” Mark noted.

  Slapping the side of the wagon, Darius said, “Alright then. I can’t say I’m happy with how little we know about you, but you saaaaveed ouuur liiiv…”

  As Darius’s words slowed, so did his actions until he was frozen in place. Mark looked around and realized everything had frozen, even the birds in the air. The only thing that hadn’t was Rosie. A brilliant golden light surrounded her, and her voice resonated with the same choral feel that had permeated it during the battle.

  “A piece of advice for you, Mark Sullivan. Legend of Arenia,” Rosie growled. “Do not let my human appearance fool you. I have lived a very long time. In all those years, only once have I felt magic like yours. I didn’t fear it before then because I didn’t believe the legends. I fear it now. So remember this: Should you ever choose to call in your favour and go to see my queen, and you use your magic in the land of the Fae, the very realm itself will rise up to crush you from existence, even if it means the death of every last one of us.”

  Rosie’s appearance returned to normal, but she kept her eyes locked on Mark. “I don’t know if you will ever master your magic, young man, but if you don’t, it will master you. See that it
doesn’t.”

  The world slowly wound back up to speed, Darius’ words resuming where they’d left off.

  “…vvveees sssooo I won’t push. Besides, I’m sure yeh’ll eventually blurt everything out by accident if you’re planning to hang around as much as it sounds!” He finished off with a bellowing laugh and a slap on Mark’s back that nearly took him out of his seat.

  Mark gave Darius a sickly grin as he considered Rosie’s words. Apparently, his magic was rare in this realm. How to master it though, he had no idea.

  Hopefully, Palmyre held some answers.

  As a general rule, Beth wasn’t a big drinker. A glass of wine here and there. The occasional beer if the mood struck her. Despite that, she had still managed to run afoul of some serious hangovers in her day. Frosh week. Kathy’s wedding. That time in high school where she drank a whole bottle of Frangelico in one night.

  None of them even came close to the feeling awaiting her when she woke up.

  Waves of nausea brought Beth to full consciousness and she scrambled on her hands and knees to the tall grass, just barely getting there before throwing up. At some point someone came over and held her hair out of her face, rubbing her back as she heaved. Who it was, Beth didn’t know. It could have been another goblin for all she cared.

  Goblins?

  Actually, maybe she did care.

  Turning around, Beth squinted through the dim morning light to see Eliza smiling back at her.

  “Thought we’d lost you for a while there, girl,” Eliza said.

  “I’m 44—hardly a girl,” Beth croaked.

  “You’re young enough to be my daughter. I can call you whatever I want.”

  Beth gave her a weak thumbs-up. “Oh, god. Why do I feel so bad?”

  “Eh, that’s my fault,” Eliza said, squinching her nose. “I don’t use health potions as much as in my younger years, and it looks like the one we gave you went a bit sour since I last refreshed this stash. Sorry about that. I should be able to help with that upset stomach, though.”

  Laying a hand on Beth’s stomach, Beth watched in awe as a golden glow sank into her tummy, alleviating the worst of her stomach-related hangover symptoms.

  “Oh my god, you are my hero,” she said. “Is that how you fixed my blisters?”

  Eliza nodded. “Yes, but it only works on a very localized area. A Ranger like me has a tiny bit of healing magic available to them, but it’s a far cry from what a proper cleric can do.”

  “Well, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Beth said.

  Eliza cocked her head. “Someone gave you a horse?”

  “What? No, yeah, uh, Earth saying. Just ignore me.” Beth looked around, only then realizing that the trees had changed. “Where are we? Last I remember, we were sneaking up on the goblins, then something hit me before Peter could— Peter!”

  Panic grabbed Beth and she spun around, eyes darting everywhere before finally landing on her husband sitting a few metres away, smiling at her.

  “Peter!” she shouted, sprinting away from Eliza and hurling herself at her husband, arms wrapping tightly around him as she knocked him flat on his back. “I was so worried! Are you okay? Did you get hur— ow!”

  Beth winced as an intense ache shot through the right side of her back, just below the shoulder blades.

  “Are you okay?” Peter said, concern evident in his voice.

  “I think so,” Beth said, rotating her arm to try and work out the kink. Her back really hurt. “Geez… what did I sleep on?”

  Peter shook his head. “You’re worried about my health?” He reached over and picked up a short, blood-covered stick with a sharpened stone point lashed to one end. “This was in your back. That’s why it hurts, not some rock you slept on.”

  “That was in my back?” Beth said, her voice rising in pitch.

  “Yeah. It was.” There was a darkness to Peter’s tone. “One of the goblins got you with their spear. We ended up having to carry you all the way across the valley to get to Eliza’s supply cache. You nearly died.”

  Beth reached out and gingerly took the broken nub from her husband. They’d carried her all the way across the valley?

  “I’m so sorry I caused you all that trouble,” Beth said, looking at them both. “Eliza… I don’t have the words. You’ve been absolutely incredible. I know we’re slowing you down, but please stick with us a couple more days? There must be something we can do to show our gratitude once we reach Palmyre.”

  “A couple of days?” Eliza chuckled. “Girl, we’ll be in Palmyre this morning.”

  “What?”

  Peter nudged her in the arm. “You want to see it?”

  “You’ve seen Palmyre?” she said, unable to keep the squeal of joy out of her voice.

  “Not yet, but I would love to. I was waiting for you.”

  “Well, show a girl the way!”

  Peter pulled Beth to her feet and led her up the slope towards the pass. Beth could barely contain her excitement, but she soon noticed that while her back was sore, her legs felt fine. Peter, on the other hand, looked like he could barely walk.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I think so,” he said. He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “I was really worried, hon. I thought we’d lost you. We got you here in time though, even if it meant running non-stop for hours.” He winced as he stepped over a fallen log. “And wow, am I paying the price. I think my legs are 95% lactic acid.”

  “What about your arm?” she said. The thick bandages covering his left forearm had not gone unnoticed.

  “Oh, that,” Peter said. He stared at the bandage, his eyebrows pulling together.

  “Hon?” she prodded.

  He forced out another smile. “Just an injury from fighting the goblin. Eliza fixed it up enough for me to avoid any long-term damage. Look, we’re almost there!”

  Beth knew an attempt to change the subject when she saw one, but they would have time to unpack that mystery later.

  The couple crested the hill and stood in awe. Beth reached out her hand and snaked her fingers through Peter’s, holding his hand tight.

  Spread out before them were kilometres of farmland, their different crops forming a patchwork mosaic that quilted the landscape. Two large rivers ran from the northeast and east respectively, slicing across the valley and nourishing the farms as they made their way westward towards the sea. The farms were all south of the upper river, with the northern shore consisting of a great green forest that rolled into the distance before climbing a range of mountains that stretched eastward from the ocean. To the west, out over the ocean, Beth saw a broken chain of islands maybe 30-40 kilometres off the coast. There was something off about those islands, as if they were in the wrong place. They gave her such a feeling of discomfort that she turned her eyes away. Fortunately, there was something else to focus on. Something she had begun to wonder if she would ever see.

  There, where those two great rivers converged before arriving at the sea, stood a towering homage to civilization; its massive spires and enormous bridges declaring dominance over all of the surrounding terrain.

  Palmyre.

  “Is that really it?” Beth said. “Are we actually almost there?”

  “I think we may be,” Peter said. He turned to his wife. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she said, giving him a kiss.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Eliza said as she came up behind them. “You kids hold on for a few hours and you can follow that train of thought in your own home. You ready to go?”

  “Definitely,” Beth said.

  The three travellers made their way down out of the hills. Even before they reached the farms they began encountering cattle that had been set to graze in the woods, and soon they were passing farms planted with a wide variety of crops. Some of them were recognizable from Earth—lettuce, strawberries, zucchini, and others—while some were completely foreign, such as a plant with broad green leaves that was bound to the ground with a m
etal lattice to prevent the thick roots from climbing out of the ground and running away. The whole thing seemed rather disturbing to Beth, but Eliza assured them it was quite tasty. Like a tangy potato with mild stimulant properties and the oh-so-appetizing name of “uggbog.”

  As they got closer to the city, they began to encounter more travellers on the road. Some of whom looked… different. Either off a little or outright non-human in several cases. Regardless of species, Beth noticed a distinct trend in how they were treated by those they passed. Anytime someone looked at Eliza, they showed the woman great deference, bowing and showering her with blessings upon her health. In one instance, even stepping into ankle-deep mud rather than forcing her to vary her course in any way. For Beth and Peter, the reaction was almost the complete opposite. Outright disdain was the order of the day, with one person going so far as to spit at them. The only respite they got was if the person Inspected Eliza first, in which case it seemed her high Renown took precedence.

  Out of curiosity, Beth Inspected some of the other people on the road, but was confused by what she saw.

  Name: Unknown

  Species: Unconfirmed (Human suspected)

  Renown: Level 21 (class/profession unknown)

  Base Stat Average: 20.5

  Name: Unknown

  Species: Unconfirmed (insufficient knowledge)

  Renown: Level 18 (class/profession unknown)

  Base Stat Average: 20.1

  Name: Unknown

  Species: Unconfirmed (Human suspected)

  Renown: Level 20 (class/profession unknown)

  Base Stat Average: 20.7

  “Eliza, our Renown isn’t that far below these people’s,” Beth said. “Considering how fast we’ve been improving, we should be near them soon, and you don’t seem to be that far above them either. Why are they looking at us like something they need to scrape off their shoe?”

  Eliza chuckled. “These people are hard workers, but they don’t have a lot of opportunities to increase their levels. Renown gets a lot harder to earn the higher you go, and you can only go so far with the daily skills of a farmer. It takes decades of hard work to become a master farmer, and cumulatively, that accomplishment represents a little shy of 30k experience. As a Ranger, I could earn that in six or seven months if I put my mind to it, but even that is a product of a lot of hard work in my younger years. They’re showing respect for my Renown because they know how hard it was to get where I am.”