Lost in Revery

by Matthew Phillion

  “I never tried,” Malcolm said. “Jack, can I tell you something I haven’t told anyone in a very long time?”

  “Sounds vaguely creepy, but okay,” Jack said.

  “Back home I was very sick. I was dying,” Malcolm said. “And I don’t know if being here stopped it, or if you leave your sickness back in your real body, or hell, if I went on to live out the rest of my life and die while some other part of me stayed here. I don’t know. I don’t want to know. All I know is that here, nothing hurts. At least not the way it does back home. Here I wasn’t burdened by doctor visits or treatments. All I had to do was live.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Jack said.

  “Because I’ve been watching you.”

  “Again, creepy.”

  Malcolm laughed.

  “I can tell this world is getting to you. And I showed myself to you just now because I think you deserve a warning.”

  “I love warnings,” Jack said.

  “Think carefully before you become obsessed with going home. Just make sure home is worth going back to.”

  Jack’s mind flickered to the pending layoffs at work, the mounting bills, the little worries that kept him up at night.

  “Why are you just hanging around Moderate Expectations, Malcolm?”

  “Because it’s where my group started as well,” he said. “In a way, it’s the closest thing I have to a home on this side of the game.”

  “Did the rest of your group die like Bennett’s?”

  Malcolm coughed out another laugh, more a bark than a chuckle.

  “No, no. A few decades adventuring together, you need some space. Most of my friends are still alive.” A shadow fell across his face. “We lost a few. But it’s inevitable in a world like this. You can’t escape the violence.”

  “Did you know Bennett’s group?”

  Malcolm scowled at the name.

  “Not everyone plays the game the same way, Jack. This game wants you to be important. That doesn’t mean everyone will be heroic. You can be important and not be the hero.”

  “He seemed nice enough.”

  “His friends spent enough time as… what’s the delightful term I heard someone use a while back from the real world? Oh, ‘murder hobos.’ A lot of us who make our way into this world fall into the temptation to let our less appealing instincts take over.”

  “He didn’t mention that,” Jack said.

  “And his friends were far, far from the worst from our world who have come here. Truthfully, it’s been a while since we’ve seen anyone new. I imagine the game is often rotting away on shelves somewhere.”

  “I got it at a going-out-of-business sale.”

  “How unfortunate,” Malcolm said. Jack couldn’t tell if he meant it was unfortunate they’d found the game, or unfortunate the game seemed to be disappearing entirely from the real world.

  “Yeah,” Jack said. “So, what happens now? Will you help us?”

  Malcolm shook his head.

  “I’m home, Jack,” the older man said. “I can’t be of much help. I offer you a little bit of advice. See the world. It will grow with you. It wants you to explore. Take advantage of that.”

  “I was just thinking we may outgrow the starter zone soon.”

  Malcolm nodded.

  “And my other piece of advice: this world is far more real than you expect. Don’t treat the people you meet like NPCs. They are so much more than that.”

  He pointed at Silence, who watched him intently.

  “Him as well. You may feel like you’re in a video game. You’re not. You’re in a world.”

  “Thank you for that,” Jack said. “Will I ever see you again, or are you going to ghost out of here and just watch us like a creep from now on?”

  Malcolm held out his arms like he was welcoming Jack into his home.

  “I’m here. Make enough noise, say my name loud enough… I’ll hear you. Probably.”

  Malcolm turned to leave. Jack, resigned, just watched him walk away. After a few steps, Malcolm looked back.

  “Oh, and Jack—don’t trust anyone who seems too helpful,” Malcolm said. “This world has existed a long time. There are malicious spirits here, both literally and figuratively.”

  “Says the creepy guy who appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the woods to offer me helpful advice,” Jack said

  “Well, exactly,” Malcolm said. “I’m just offering some suggestions. I recommend you find your own way, and your own truth.”

  Chapter 3: Roll a religion check or something

  Morgan collected their payment from Miriam, the mayor of Moderate Expectations, with Cordelia along to help carry both the items, and bodies, they’d recovered. As a general rule, Morgan found himself acting as the leader and spokesman for the team, which he didn’t enjoy, but didn’t particularly mind, either. His role as battle priest seemed to carry a lot of weight in the community, and an inherent trust that he would do the right thing. It worked in the group’s favor, but as the weeks went by, that unearned trust had begun to weigh on him.

  Heading back to the Hungry Lion Tavern and Inn they’d taken up residence in, Morgan and Cordelia spotted Tobias emerging from the side door of a local tailor’s shop, smiling, as he almost always was, at some inner joke no one else was privy to.

  “Go on without me,” Morgan told Cordelia. The half-orc raised an eyebrow. “I need to talk to Tobias about something.”

  “Something I can’t hear about?” Cordelia said.

  “No,” Morgan said. “Something that would bore you. You’re welcome to stay if you want to.”

  “Well, now you know I am morally obligated to stick around and eavesdrop,” Cordelia said.

  “Fine,” Morgan said, sighing. He flagged down Tobias, who strolled over to meet them.

  “Calling me over to give me my part of the spoils early?” he said.

  “No,” Morgan said. “I mean, do you need me to count it out for you here in the street?”

  “Nah,” Tobias said. “What’s up?”

  “I need your help with something,” Morgan said. The trio began walking leisurely back to the inn together.

  “Anything for you, big guy,” Tobias said.

  “I need your help with this,” Morgan said, pointing to the stylized sun that emblazoned his simple tabard.

  “A broken heart? I don’t have that spell. Don’t you have that spell? You’re the healer.”

  “Tobias,” Morgan said.

  “Hey, if you’re in love, good for you,” Tobias said. “I have to admit, I’m finding medieval fantasy dating kind of a slog, but if you’ve found true love…”

  “The symbol, Tobias. I need your help with the symbol,” Morgan said.

  “I don’t have points in the embroidery crafting skill,” Tobias said.

  “Why are you being obtuse about this?” Morgan said.

  “Because you’re being obtuse about what you’re asking for,” Tobias said.

  “In the bard’s defense, I can’t tell what you’re asking for either,” Cordelia said.

  “This religion,” Morgan said, exasperated. “I’m the priest of some religion I know nothing about. It’s been okay so far, but at some point, someone’s going to ask me about this fictional god I represent and I know literally nothing about him.”

  “First of all, it’s a her,” Tobias said.

  “How do you even know that?” Morgan said.

  “Because I’m a bard, and everyone talks my ear off,” he said. “Someone said it was really nice that we have a priest of Theana the Wise on our side when we protect the town, praise her name.”

  “Praise whose name?” Cordelia said.

  “Theana the Wise, praise her name,” Tobias said. “That’s how the person phrased it, and then she made a little gesture with her index finger against her forehead, like y’know, when you finish a prayer sometimes back home. Depending on your religion.”

  “This is a good start,” Morgan said. “Definitely a good start
. Did she tell you anything else?”

  “Well I mean, we weren’t really there to talk about you,” Tobias said. “We were there to talk about me.”

  “Tobias,” Morgan said.

  “What? I’m living my best life here. You want me to lie about it?”

  “Tobias, can you find out more about Theana the Wise? Maybe someone’s got a book or something we can borrow?”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “You talk to everyone,” Morgan said. “You’ve got to be able to ask around.”

  “Religious texts don’t often come up during flirty talk, dude,” Tobias said. “Why can’t you ask around? Can’t you roll a religion check or something?”

  “That’s not suspicious at all,” Morgan said. “Hey, stranger, can you tell me more about the religion I’m allegedly a clergyman of?”

  “Fair point,” Tobias said. “I’ll come up with something.”

  “Thank you,” Morgan said.

  “Hey, anything for my favorite fake priest,” Tobias said.

  Chapter 4: The emotional math

  Eriko meandered in to the Hungry Lion to find Tamsin sitting by herself near a window, the light spilling in through her fantastical, metallic elvish hair. Eriko stared at the sight for a moment—the elven grace, the perfect daylight, the glittery hair, the delicately pointed ears—and was overcome by the desire to irritate the living hell out of her friend. She walked up to Tamsin and flicked her pointed ear with one finger.

  “Ow,” Tamsin said, scowling at Eriko. “What was that for?”

  “You know, normally when people play these games, they chose to play an elf because they wish they looked like an elf, and you and your stupid brother are so fucking pretty it’s like this game just added pointed ears and said: that’ll do.”

  “I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not,” Tamsin said.

  “Kind of both,” Eriko said. “I had no idea the two of you were descended from immortal fey creatures the whole time we knew you growing up.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I catch these stupid ears on everything,” Tamsin said. “Have you ever closed your ear in a door? I now have, and let me tell you, it feels as wonderful as it sounds.”

  “Sorry for picking on you. I’m not annoyed. I’m just jealous.”

  “I’ve known you most of my life, Eriko. You are definitely not jealous, and absolutely annoyed.”

  “How do you know the difference?”

  “You have a specific annoyed face.”

  “I need to work on that.”

  “You should,” Tamsin said.

  “Anyway. How’s the book?” Eriko slid into the booth across from the mage and put her elbows on the table. Ena, the co-owner of the bar, placed a stein of beer in front of Eriko without asking. Eriko smiled at her and nodded.

  “I can’t read all of it,” Tamsin said. “I assume that means the spells are above my level.”

  “Picking up the lingo,” Eriko said. “My heart swells with pride.”

  “But there’s several I can totally use.”

  “Such as?”

  “Invisibility, for starters,” Tamsin said.

  “Best. Spell. Ever,” Eriko said.

  “There’s a spell that is either super useful or completely useless that lets me manipulate a rope, so if we ever get stuck in the bottom of a bogeyman’s cave again, it’ll be easier to get out,” Tamsin said. “Some little illusions spells for making someone look different, a dispel… spell… spell? A spell that dispels spells.”

  “Tell me there’s something in there you can shoot that isn’t fire,” Eriko said.

  “Oh, definitely,” Tamsin said. “A lightning bolt spell. I was saving that for last for shock value.”

  “You did not just do that,” Eriko said.

  “I did, I did,” Tamsin said. “I’m not proud.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Yes, I am,” Tamsin said, fighting back an enormous smile.

  “Well, I’m glad we found it,” Eriko said. “Pull your brother aside and see if he can learn any spells too. Sometimes in games like this, bards can pick up some minor spells.”

  “I shudder to think what my brother would do with an invisibility spell.”

  “Probably the same nonsense he gets up to without it, only nobody would see him,” Eriko said.

  As she spoke, Jack walked in. Eriko could tell he was trying not to look dramatic, but the green cloak and back-lighting made for an impressive figure, at least until he caught his cloak in the door and choked himself on the fastener.

  “You do that almost every time you walk through a door,” Eriko said.

  “I forget how long this thing is,” Jack said, coughing. “Hi.”

  “Welcome back,” Tamsin said.

  “Find anything?” Eriko said.

  Jack sidled in beside Eriko. He smelled like the outdoors. Not in a bad way. Like earth and wind and drying leaves.

  “New spell book?” he said.

  “Yup,” Tamsin said.

  “The ogres had a spell book?”

  “Technically the ogres killed a guy and took his spell book,” Eriko said.

  “That makes more sense,” Jack said.

  “So, what did you find?” Tamsin said. “Any sign of Bennett?”

  “Nope. I did meet a guy from Toronto, though,” Jack said.

  “Shut up,” Eriko said.

  “Yeah.”

  “This place is so not exclusive,” Eriko said.

  “Nope,” Jack said. “And he confirmed our suspicion that Moderate Expectations is basically the starter zone. If we’re going to progress in the game and maybe find our way home, we probably need to move on soon.”

  “I was kind of loving it here,” Tamsin said. “I like being a local hero. Do we have to go?”

  “I have a feeling that, like most games, if we don’t go on our own, the game will somehow force us,” Jack said. “Might be better if we do it of our own volition.”

  “I was starting to get bored anyway,” Eriko said. “The quests were starting to feel repetitive.”

  “He said the game wants us to be important,” Jack said. “I don’t quite know what that means, but…”

  “Killing giant rats is not important enough,” Eriko said.

  “No,” Jack said.

  “If this is the starter zone, and he knows so much, why was he here?” Tamsin said. “Shouldn’t be out there trying to find his own way home?”

  “That’s the funny thing—he says he doesn’t want to go home,” Jack said.

  “Okay, I haven’t brought this up before, but this feels like a good time to say it: do we want to go home?” Eriko said. “I mean I can’t speak for you, Tamsin, but I’m in no rush to go back to slinging fancy coffee beverages and worrying about my student loans, and Jack, I know you were five minutes away from losing your job.”

  “Morgan’s dad needs him,” Jack said.

  “I’m… Tobias and I have some family stuff I am in no rush to go home to,” Tamsin said. “And Toby seems to be having the time of his life here. But I mean… are you suggesting we should just stay in the game forever?”

  “Not exactly,” Eriko said. “Maybe? I don’t know. All I’m saying is I don’t have a hell of a lot to go home to.”

  The trio sat in silence for a moment, awkwardly not making eye contact.

  “Well this turned super depressing,” Jack said.

  “Wow,” Tamsin said.

  “Sorry,” Eriko said.

  “No, I just… never did the emotional math there. Everything sucks back home, huh?” Jack said.

  “Not everything,” Eriko said apologetically.

  “Almost everything,” Tamsin said.

  “But, I mean… we can’t just stay here, right?” Jack said.

  “If we go home and I can’t do magic anymore, I’m going to be super disappointed,” Tamsin said.

  “If it turns out we all just want to like, stay, this would alleviate the profound
amount of guilt you have for buying that game in the first place, right Jack?” Eriko said.

  “I never figured you for someone who’d find the one bright spot in a situation like this,” Jack said.

  “I am full of surprises,” Eriko said. “Just try me.”

  Chapter 5: Religious education

  Tamsin stood in the corner of the tavern, completely invisible, and it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her.

  Ever since she’d started reading books about magic, the ability to turn invisible fascinated her. Whether it was Harry Potter’s cloak or the One Ring or any other variation of the same mystical theme, the concept of being out of sight, undetectable by anyone, had been something she wished for. People tended to like Tamsin right away when they met her, but she was brutally introverted by nature, so the combination of shyness and involuntary attention had never sat well with her. Oh, to be invisible, she thought, to slip a ring on and disappear.

  And now, here in this fictional world they were all stuck in, she could.

  Cordelia knew Tamsin was here, but only because Tamsin had told her. The warrior sat near the fire, sharpening her axe—her normal axe, fortunately, as the group had been able to convince her to discard the grotesque weapon she’d taken from the ogres earlier—and staring vaguely at the space where she suspected Tamsin was hiding. At a booth just behind Cordelia, Jack and Eriko were catching Morgan up on Jack’s encounter in the forest. Cordelia was clearly listening to their conversation, but she’d become less and less patient with idle chatter since they arrived here, and Tamsin suspected something about the character she played—all fighting, little thinking—had begun to creep into her personality.

  Tobias swaggered in through the front door, greeted immediately by cheers from the clientele.

  “Gonna play for us tonight, Oberon?” one man yelled from the bar, referring to Tobias by his character’s name. Tamsin found it strange that they all simply stuck with those names—Oberon and Nimue, Raven and Bastion, Rouge and Orchid—but, she supposed, it lent them a bit of anonymity. Sort of like having a code name.