by Paul Bellow
The philosophical question hung with me most of the evening as I ate two dry crackers and sipped at what was left of my fresh water. Staring at the flickering flames, I remembered the first camping trip Sarah and I had gone on after we started dating. She had complained all day about the bugs, the smell, and everything, but when we sat down next to each other in front of a roaring fire, my hand holding her close, she realized why I loved camping so much. That was the night I knew I wanted to marry her.
My smiled faded as the memory did. I glanced past the fire and into the darkness pushing against my weak source of light. How much longer? Not a lot. The thought depressed and excited me at the same time. If I died of starvation, was it suicide? I marveled at the depth of my thoughts when modern conveniences weren’t around to distract me with advertisements and occasional stories worth watching or participating in. I had the game’s help files, but I had read through them five times already.
The Tower of Gates had its flaws—like trapping us—but overall I had grown to admire the effort put into creating the place. Even the flickering flames impressed me. I put my elbows on my knees and leaned forward, looking more closely at the details. While I never heard many sounds after the sun went down, I couldn’t get Monky’s screams out of my mind. The memories haunted me more during the long nights. I poked the last log with a stick, sending embers into the air. The smell reminded me of Sarah.
My emotions were all over the place as I settled down on my side next to the fire. The log wouldn’t last all night. I expected the gruesnipes would eat me, but I had no other source of light. Anything flammable had already been burned to conserve my wood. I closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep, but opened them when I heard voices in the darkness. I sat up, listening as they got closer.
What are they saying? Do gruesnipes talk?
I stood and drew my sword, holding it toward the direction of the sounds.
“There you are!” Thom said as he walked into the dim light.
Aaron, Ferris, and Sherlock followed him, all of them wearing their trademark colored robes. I kept the sword up, determined not to become a prisoner again.
“Stop!” I said. “Don’t come any closer.”
“Or what?” Sherlock asked then laughed.
They continued forward. I noticed a wand in Ferris’ right hand. Aaron held a silver and bronze rod while Sherlock and Thom both had their hands raised, palms out.
I cursed my bad luck under my breath then asked, “How did you find me?”
“You’ve got a magic sigil on your back,” Thom said, his red frizzy hair bouncing around.
I lowered the sword, resigned to my fate.
“Drop it,” Sherlock said. “We have an interested buyer again. That’s why we waited so long to fetch you.”
“I didn’t think you would last so long,” Aaron said in a glum voice.
After dropping the sword, I turned and ran into the darkness, not wanting to become their prisoner again. Even getting eaten by a gruesnipe would be better. My heart pounded in my chest as I ran at full speed, waiting for something to swoop down and get me.
Or would it come up from under the ground? The thought scared me into running even faster. While the sigil would allow them to follow me, I wasn’t about to make it easy on them. Part of me hoped a gruesnipe would consume me. I continued running at full speed.
32
Just a Rat in a Cage
Josh
The Four Wizards caught me before a gruesnipe got me, of course. After they replaced the healing collar around my neck, they teleported me back to my cell in one of their towers. I had spent the last week barely alive and utterly alone. Eleven long months had passed according to the life-timer for my character. I occasionally checked the game-screen to check on its progress. What would happen after the one-year penalty expired and I wasn’t on level one-two?
I shuddered at the thought as I stood and stretched, ready to face another long day alone in a bare room. Except for a hole in the floor in one corner that could hardly be called furniture, I had nothing but the ceiling, floor, and walls. And my mind.
The time passed even slower when I relived various events and went over fond memories, but the reminders of the real-world outside of the game kept me going. Without them, I would’ve gone insane with all the forced isolation and starvation.
I paced the floor of my cell, looking for any positives. My buff-sickness had finally gone away. It would return once they started pumping me full of hidden magic again, but until then I felt good. The Four Wizards suddenly appeared all around me.
“Are you ready for your new owner?” Sherlock asked.
I kept my hands at my sides, resigned to the fact they were more powerful. Even one of them could take me out on their own. I accepted my reality.
“Sure,” I said.
They laughed then cast a spell, teleporting me away. I reappeared in a grand living room. A fat man with no shirt lounged sideways on a duvet. The light from several torches around the room reflected off his oily skin. He sat up and clapped at my arrived.
“Fabulous,” he said. “Bring him here.”
Two men, one on either side of me, grabbed my arms. I couldn’t resist them. Weak after all the mistreatment and near death, I let them drag me closer to the man.
“Give him a healing potion,” the man said. “We need this to look real.”
A third man rushed over and poured the contents of a bottle down my throat.
You feel better!
You have [100/223] health remaining.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Silence,” the oily fat man snapped.
I could tell by the sound of his voice he was accustomed to getting what he wanted.
“My name is Artemis, and you belong to me,” he said. “Do you understand?”
I nodded my head. Could I overpower his guards and kill him?
“Here’s the deal,” Artemis said as he leaned over and grabbed a chicken leg off a nearby table. “I’m running for the Guild Council, and I need to appear strong,” he said. “My men are going to beat you within an inch of your life. After they’re done, you’ll be put in a cage in front of my residence with a sign stating I whipped you in a fair fight. If you tell anyone otherwise, I’ll torture you constantly for the next twenty years. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said then bowed my head.
“Good,” Artemis said. “Get to it.”
The man on my left sucker-punched me in my jaw. My instincts took over, and I kicked his legs out from under him. Artemis clapped and giggled with mirth.
Four other men surrounded me as I crouched down, ready to fight all of them. One particularly bulky man with a white, sleeveless shirt rushed forward.
He slammed into me, sending both of us to the ground. I struggled with him as the other five kicked and punched me everywhere, not forgetting a spot.
They didn’t stop after I quit fighting back, pummeling me with their bare fists and boots. Whenever I neared death, the collar healed me a little.
“Stop!” Artemis said. “That’s enough. Get him outside.”
Two of the men picked me up under my arms and dragged me outside where there was a cage and sign.
After putting me inside the cage for all who passed to see, they slammed the door shut and locked it. I glanced over at the sign and read the note.
Basically, it said Artemis had beaten me within an inch of my life for helping Wiley escape from the arena. Was he one of the owners of the coliseum?
The question faded to the back of my mind as the pain from my wounds reminded me of my situation. Whenever I felt myself dying, the collar healed me.
I had never been suicidal in my life, but it would’ve felt like such a relief inside the Tower of Gates. So many months of absolute torture had done me in.
While I did have several good moments, they were far and few between unlike the bad ones. I thought about Monky getting eaten by a gruesnipe after our escape.
Sh
e had done so much for me, but I let her die. Every single mistake I had ever made in my life came back to haunt me in that moment. I wanted to be alone so bad.
Men, women, and even children taunted me as they walked by the cage several sizes too small for me. I sat hunched over as they launched a litany of insults my way.
“Stupid brute,” a young woman shouted. “You let Wiley get away!”
Her anger surprised me. Didn’t they see I helped free the dragon? After he flew away without me, I didn’t care about the stupid flying reptile any longer.
The insults became harsher as a larger crowd gathered around the cage in front of Artemis’ house. I growled at them in frustration, but they only laughed.
When a small boy came up to the cage and spit between the bars, I knew I had reached the lowest point in my life. I wanted to die and start over again, but I couldn’t.
The stupid collar around my neck continuously healed me a few health points, just enough to keep me alive. It did nothing for the pain coursing through my body.
Someone in the crowd whipped a tomato at me. The ripe, red fruit hit one of the bars and splattered, covering me in a red mess. Everyone cheered at my misfortune.
A fruit merchant must’ve been traveling by because after the first one, a rainstorm of tomatoes, oranges, and even apples came flying at me. The apples hurt the most.
I lifted my knees and buried my head between them. While they couldn’t kill me by throwing fruit, I didn’t want to see them anymore. They chanted louder when I covered my ears.
“Bleaking half-orc!” an intensely irate man shouted.
All the wet, sloppy fruit attracted a bunch of flies and other insects. They descended on my cage like a miniature air force. I didn’t even bother swatting them away.
When the crowd realized I wasn’t getting upset enough, their tactics changed. They kept on yelling insults at me, but they changed up their projectile weapons.
A bottle crashed in front of the cage, shattering. Soon, dozens of bottles flew my way. Two of them hit the bars, shattering and sending glass flying inside the cage.
Four guards rushed out of the house and chased most of the people away. As they worked on clearing the crowd, I reached down and picked up a sliver of glass.
I couldn’t use it to kill myself with the collar, but maybe I could cut the leather away and take it off. At that point, I could take my own life and hopefully spawn again.
The guards yelled at the stragglers as I quietly used the sharp glass to slice the collar. My fingers started bleeding, but I kept working. Nothing could stop me.
After a few minutes, I was making progress. Could I cut the leather enough to rip it off in my weakened condition? As I got closer, one of the guards noticed me.
“Hey, what are you doing?” he asked while walking toward the cage.
I cut faster. Timing would be everything.
The guard on my left reached inside the cage. I pulled away and kept cutting at the collar. The other guards came over.
“Get the cage open!” someone said.
I saw one of the guards fumbling with a ring of keys, looking for the right one as I kept sawing at the leather with the shard of glass. When he found the right one, I reached up and pulled at the collar with all my strength. To my surprise, it broke!
The guard with the key fumbled with the lock as I raised the shard of glass to my throat. Could I really do it? Kill myself? I only had a few seconds to decide whether to go through with it or not. As the guard swung the door of the cage open, I made up my mind.
33
Return of the Wizards
Josh
As I pressed the glass shard against my throat, ready to end my character, I heard a roar overhead. The people around me fled in every direction. I scooted to the side of the cage, trying to look up, but I couldn’t see anything. Had Wiley returned to save me? Artemis’ guards ran back inside the mansion. I peered down the now empty street and saw a familiar red dragon land in a nearby courtyard. Five figures climbed off and headed toward me. Their colored robes gave me pause. Why were the Four Wizards and Wiley working together again? And who was the fifth person with them? I grabbed the bars of the cage and peered out, anxiously waiting for them to arrive.
“Hello,” Thom called out, waving his hand.
Anger flared up inside me as they got closer. I wanted to make them pay for what they had done to me for so many months. Wiley might’ve forgiven them, but I never would. I gripped the steel bars even tighter as they stopped in front of the cage.
“Need some help?” Monky, in her female body, asked.
My hands dropped from the bars.
“You’re alive?” I asked.
She nodded as the Four Wizards waved their hands. The door of my cage popped open. I crawled out then stood, still wondering if I should believe what was happening. Monky came over and threw her arms around my waist, squeezing.
“I’m glad you made it,” she said.
“What happened?” I asked. “Didn’t you get eaten by a gruesnipe?”
The Four Wizards laughed. Monky smiled sheepishly.
“I lied about gruesnipes because I had to get away from you. The evil Four Wizards tracked you because of the sigils on your back,” she said. “I couldn’t let them get me before I rescued the originals.”
“Huh?” I furrowed my brow in confusion.
“We’ll explain when we get out of here,” Ferris said.
“Yes,” Sherlock added. “We’ve got company.”
I turned as half a dozen guards ran out of Artemis’ lavish house.
The Four Wizards jumped into action, sending a dizzying amount of magic at them. A wall of fire shot up from the ground between us and them. Several lightning bolts shot through it. I heard the guards scream, but I couldn’t see them through the flames.
“We should go,” Aaron said.
I turned to Monky, wondering if I could trust her.
“You can trust me,” she said in my mind.
Still unsure of what was going on but not wanting to remain a prisoner, I followed her and the Four Wizards back to the courtyard. Wiley snaked his head around to me as we walked up.
“I’m sorry I had to leave you,” he said. “Things have been tricky.”
“We’re good,” I said casually.
“City Guard!” Thom shouted.
Wiley turned toward the guards running toward us and shot flames from his mouth. Everyone climbed onto his back.
“Hang on,” he said in his deep voice then leaped into the air.
I clung to two scales with all my might as we soared up into the sky above the city. Several arrows, bolts, and a few energy beams shot up at us, but Wiley dodged them all as he flew toward the north wall of the city.
Monky, sitting in front of me, looked around and smiled. If they had shown up another minute later, I would’ve slit my throat without knowing what would happen to me after I died again. She turned back toward the front.
After flying a mile or so away from the city, Wiley swooped down and landed. Everyone climbed off his back. I used my hand to shield my eyes as I peered at Midgaard in the distance. The brilliant white walls belied what was inside.
“Will they send someone after us?” I asked.
“No,” Ferris said. “Not right away.”
“But the gruesnipes might get us tonight,” Thom said then laughed.
“Very funny,” I said then looked over at Monky.
She turned away, not meeting my gaze.
“What now?” I asked. “Can you get me back to the lower levels? I need to find my friends. They’re probably worried about me.”
“Not yet,” Aaron said. “We need your help.”
“My help?” I asked.
Aaron nodded.
“We made a grave mistake,” Ferris said. “An experiment to get out of the game failed, and we split ourselves with the spell we created.”
“Huh?” I asked.
Sherlock sighed like a grumpy ol
d man.
“It’s simple,” he said. “We cloned ourselves. The idea was that if we diluted our characters, we might be able to escape the game. But it all went wrong.”
“Horribly wrong,” Thom said in a more serious tone.
Unlike his clone, he knew when to quit kidding around.
“Our doubles came out a lot darker,” Ferris said. “They tricked us and imprisoned us. Luckily, we had given them a cursed item that would transport them through the Warp Zone one time and trap them on the first four levels of the game.”
“Unfortunately,” Aaron said. “They had already imprisoned us.”
“I needed to leave you in the wastelands to find them,” Monky said.
“Do you know how many times I almost died?” I asked.
She frowned and offered a meager, “No.”
“A lot,” I said. “Too many times.”
“But you’re alive,” Aaron noted.
I nodded, unable to argue with this logic.
“How exactly can I help you?” I asked, still not understanding.
“We need a warrior,” Sherlock said.
“A brave fighter like you,” Thom added.
“You don’t understand,” I said. “The evil wizards were buffing me every day with hidden enchantments. I wouldn’t have won any matches without their magic.”
“We understand fine,” Ferris said. “You won’t be fighting alone. To reclaim our place on level one-nine, we need to kill our clones. We could fight them outside the arena illegally, but with your local celebrity, we think the Guild Council will approve a Death Match between us and them.”
“A battle of eight wizards,” Monky said. “It’ll be epic.”
“But how can I help?” I asked.
