Lost in Revery

by Matthew Phillion

  Eriko felt her face flushing. She tried to imitate Morgan’s casually heroic smile, but could only muster an awkward smirk.

  “Hey, it’s… Y’know, what heroes do, right?” Eriko said

  Jin squeezed Eriko’s hand.

  “None of us will ever forget you,” she said, and then, almost laughing: “I like your hair.”

  Jin turned quickly and walked away, scooping up a stray little boy who wasn’t obeying the older child assigned to him. Eriko ran her hands through her hair nervously, then saw Tobias staring at her.

  “Shut up, Toby,” Eriko said.

  Tobias’ smirk grew wider.

  “I will cut your hair in your sleep if you say anything at all about this,” Eriko said.

  Tobias bit his tongue at her, shrugged, then fixed his new cloak and walked off. Eriko caught him singing a cutesy pop song as he strolled away.

  “Jackass,” Eriko said. She looked down at her hand, remembering Jin’s touch. We’ve been here so long I was starting to forget what that felt like, she thought.

  She smiled quietly to herself, and, her heart a little lighter than it was before, trotted off to help guide the orphans to safety.

  Chapter 25: Dragon country

  Jack and Cordelia scared up a few unhappy but uninjured horses roaming the countryside outside of town, including several draft horses who would be perfect for pulling a wagon full of kids. The hodgepodge of horses were as weird and inconsistent as the party itself, but that almost seemed like part of the charm, Jack thought.

  The survivors packed up a few things, making very brief forays into the town while guarded by different members of the party just in case any lingering ghouls made an appearance, but trouble never reared its ugly head. Jin raided a few homes for toys and clothes for the children, while Mila knew where dry goods and other food were stored, and Grahom led them to a few storefronts where they could find tools or trade goods so they didn’t arrive in the next town empty handed.

  In the end, they loaded up two carts, a larger one for the children, which Grahom drove, and a smaller one filled with what little they could scrounge from the town, which Jin guided. Jack smiled as he watched Eriko turn down a horse to ride in favor of sitting with Jin in the cart, but he stayed out of earshot, letting the two have their private conversation.

  Tamsin, who had been observing Grahom unsuccessfully explain to Morgan and Cordelia how to hitch the wagons to the horses and finally just giving up to and doing it himself, caught Jack watching Eriko. She put a hand lightly on his shoulder.

  “That’s unexpected,” she said.

  “What part?” Jack said.

  “That Eriko… how do I put this. That Eriko is letting this place feel real enough to let that happen,” Tamsin said.

  “I think it’s starting to feel real to all of us,” Jack said. He checked the saddle on the horse he’d chosen for himself, laughing at how, like using a bow or tracking people through the wilderness, he just knew how to saddle and care for a horse, wondering what game skills Morgan and Cordelia’s characters didn’t have that was causing them to critically fail hitching a wagon. “I’m happy to see it, though. Eriko’s… she’s not inclined to be happy.”

  “I don’t know anyone else like that,” Tamsin said.

  “I know you mean me, but I think five out of the six of us are not inclined to be happy,” Jack said.

  “True enough,” Tamsin said. She checked on her own horse and then looked at Jack. “You know something funny? I can tell that in-game, my character has no idea how to saddle a horse, but I really do know how from real life. I’m actually better at this than the rest of you. Who knew being a spoiled kid with riding lessons would come in handy as a wizard?”

  “Did you help your brother with his?”

  “I did,” Tamsin said, looking guilty. “I was so tempted to saddle his horse wrong so he’d fall off so I could get back at him for stealing my magic cape, but it seemed…”

  “Petty?”

  “Like a waste of hit points,” she said.

  Jack laughed and ran a hand casually along his horse’s neck.

  “So. Jack. Are we a thing?” Tamsin said.

  Jack peered around his horse to look at her.

  “Do you want to be a thing?”

  “Do you want to be a thing?” she asked back.

  “I really think I do,” Jack said. “I kind of feel like we’re supposed to be a thing. Whatever world we’re in.”

  “I think if we were back home reality wouldn’t let us,” Tamsin said.

  “So, screw the real world,” Jack said. “We’re here now. We almost die on a daily basis. Let’s be happy.”

  Tamsin nodded and laughed.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s give it a shot.”

  They hopped on their horses, shared a laugh as Tobias overshot his target and slid right off the other side of his horse and had to try a second time as a wagon full of children laughed, and had a bit of a scare as Cordelia’s horse seemed to look at her like she’d offended the it somehow and almost threw her off. But with a bit of work, they found themselves on the road.

  Jack and Cordelia traded off taking the lead, Silence trotting along beside or between them as an extra pair of eyes scanning the forest. It was an uneventful trip, a welcome change, as none of them wanted to do battle with a wagon full of kids in tow. Eventually they came to another small town, this one pleasantly ordinary, with no undead infestation to deal with. They were welcomed warmly, if fearfully, until the adventurers told them about ending the ghoul threat.

  They bartered for a few more horses and agreed to stay for a few days, offering to deal with a goblin problem in the hills beyond the town. Tobias performed at the local tavern, but he did not tell the tale of the ghouls. Not here, not so close to where so much tragedy had happened.

  One afternoon, Morgan gathered the group together, and they walked a little bit outside of the village, sitting beside a strangely serene river that ended in a waterfall off a sort, rocky cliff. The trees cleared where the waterfall dropped off, and they could see mountains in the distance, and, even further, signs of a larger city.

  “We need to figure out where we go from here,” Morgan said, sitting down on a stone.

  “That city looks interesting,” Tobias said.

  “I keep thinking we owe Moderate Expectations an ending,” Cordelia said. “I don’t like that we never went back.”

  “Eriko?” Tamsin said.

  “I’ll go where you go,” the rogue said, though there was an unusual hesitation in her voice. “This place is pretty, but we’ll all go mad here without some adventure.”

  Jack caught something in the air, just the slightest sound. He tilted his head to hear it better, and then walked away from the group to tune out the conversation.

  “Jack?” Morgan said.

  Jack held up a hand, and his heart caught in his throat as he spotted the source of the sound. In the distance, an impossible sight appeared. Flying on massive wings, scales gleaming blue and copper, a dragon sailed through the air lazily, its wings making the rhythmic noise that had caught Jack’s attention initially. The group fell silent, watching as the dragon settled onto the tip of a mountaintop on the other side of the valley below. It let out an almost birdlike squawk, looked out over the landscape below it, and then took flight again, disappearing into the distance like a glittering jewel.

  “We’re in dragon country,” Tobias said.

  “Wow,” Morgan said.

  “So,” Tobias said. “Let’s not go in that direction. Sound good?”

  Epilogue: Among the dead

  Mordecai the Unholy was watching butterflies.

  I’m allowed, thought Mordecai, who had been known as Leo in the real world. Just because I’m a necromancer doesn’t mean I can’t like to watch living things. Everyone’s always expecting me to live in a bubble of gloom and death. Some of the nicest people I know are necromancers.

  Okay, that last part is a lie, he thought.
Most necromancers are mad at best, truly vile at worst. He didn’t blame people for not wanting to associate with him.

  Except the undead, of course. The undead never really had a problem with him.

  He saw the ghoul ranger emerge from the forest and enter the butterfly-filled field, drawing his hood up to hide from the sun. He’s early, Leo thought. Poor bastard. I would have waited until nightfall. Probably thinks I’m a horrible person asking to meet with him in a sunny field in broad daylight.

  “Mordecai,” the ghoul said.

  “Murtok,” Leo responded. “You’re in one piece.”

  “And there are dozens fewer ghouls in the world, thanks to your suggestion,” the ghoul said. “The group of adventurers were every bit as helpful as you said they’d be.”

  “Glad they helped, Murtok,” Leo said. “Did they all survive?”

  “Despite, honestly, their best attempt at getting themselves killed through terrible planning, none of them were killed fighting the ghouls,” Murtok said. “I’m glad for it—they wouldn’t have deserved an ignominious death like that.”

  “And your observations about them?” Leo said. “Are they… invested?”

  “They’re good people, Mordecai,” Murtok said. “Even the most self-centered of them stepped up to fight. My brother… he told them our story.”

  Leo nodded thoughtfully.

  “And how did they react?”

  “With skeptical empathy,” Murtok said. “Which is the best I could hope for. Too much sympathy and I’d fear they’d be sucked in by my brother’s darkness. Not enough and who knows what would happen. But they listened. They felt something. They seemed to understand what was at stake. You chose your champions well.”

  “I didn’t choose them,” Leo said. “For better or for worse, they are what the gods have thrown us. We have to work with the tools given.”

  “Well, it could be worse,” Murtok said. “Is there anything else you require?”

  “No,” Leo said. He withdrew a leather folder from within his robes and handed it to the ghoul. “The potions I promised. They should help with the pain.”

  Murtok accepted folder, staring at it but not opening it to look at the contents.

  “Thank you, Mordecai,” Murtok said. “There aren’t many in this world who will help a suffering ghoul.”

  “Let me know when you need more,” Leo said.

  The ghoul looked at him with a glimmer of suspicion, but said nothing.

  “Go on, old friend. I know the sunlight pains you. There’s no reason to suffer needlessly.”

  Murtok nodded and turned to leave. Leo called out.

  “Murtok, one last question.”

  The ghoul ranger turned back.

  “Did you like them?” Leo asked. “You have a better heart than I do. I trust your judgment more than mine.”

  Murtok smiled a toothy grin.

  “I think they are good people, Mordecai,” Murtok said. “And we both know there are not enough of those in this world.”

  The necromancer bowed his head.

  “Be safe, hunter,” he said.

  “You as well,” Murtok said, disappearing back into the forest.

  Leo, who was also Mordecai the Unholy, accidental master of the dead, let a butterfly land on his fingertips. He found himself hypnotized by the delicate beauty of its wings.

  I hope good people are what we need, he thought. We’ve tried monsters and bastards and failed. And we don’t have time to try again.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Matthew Phillion is a writer, actor, and film director based in Salem, Massachusetts and the author of the Indestructibles Young Adult superhero adventure series, the spinoff series Echo and the Sea and its sequels, and the pop fantasy Dungeon Crawlers adventure series.