Awaken Online- Flame

by Travis Bagwell

  He had a mission. And nothing and no one was going to keep him from his goal. Not some magical prison-school, not some cryptic myth, and certainly not the ailing and aged tyrant that ruled this city.

  Chapter 6 - Royal

  After the palace gates opened, the group was immediately encircled by a full division of purple-liveried royal guards. The mage guild’s forces were politely, but firmly, asked to remain beside the gate – although they looked more relieved than offended at the request.

  Abbad, Finn, and his two companions were then escorted by the palace guards through a winding labyrinth of courtyards, halls, and gardens – intricate affairs of rock and sand built into detailed patterns. The palace sported its own servant quarters, stable, blacksmith and crafting facilities, training grounds and barracks… the list just kept going. While Finn had noted the size of the palace grounds from a distance, his initial impression didn’t do the reality justice. It was a city in its own right, brimming with people.

  Abbad explained quietly as they walked that these residents all lived and worked on the palace grounds – most never venturing into the greater city of Lahab once they entered. In fact, entire families had been born and died on the grounds without ever setting foot outside. Although, that begged the question of why the Emir felt the need to maintain this separate foothold within his own city.

  Paranoia, a voice whispered in the back of his mind.

  Finn also noted that many of the servants wore a steel neckpiece, a glimmering orange gem affixed to its surface. When he had questioned the purpose of the device, the librarian had promptly hushed him, sparing a worried glance at the nearby guards. However, Finn could guess at the collar’s function. The color indicated fire mana was being used. And Finn knew better than most that there were few useful applications of his affinity besides blowing stuff up.

  His best guess? Those were this world’s equivalent of an explosive collar.

  Fantastic. Finn was beginning to understand why the residents seemed so nervous about approaching the palace gates. His initial guess was starting to look more likely. What sort of man felt the need to ensure his staff’s loyalty by strapping explosives to their neck?

  He shared a look with Julia and Kyyle.

  I guess we’ll get to find out.

  Nearly half an hour later, the group was finally deposited at the entrance to a small garden along the fringe of the grounds, a manservant waving at the entrance and then bowing away without a word. Finn could only assume that their “gracious host” was waiting inside.

  The enclosure was obscured by a series of thick fir trees, the first vegetation that Finn had seen since he had entered this world. Even if he hadn’t witnessed the size and majesty of the palace, these few plants would have tipped him off to the scope of the Emir’s power.

  “How many water mages would it take to keep these alive?” Kyyle murmured, touching some of the bristles with gentle fingers.

  Finn glanced at Julia, expecting a snarky comment. However, for once, his daughter held her tongue – which was only slightly disconcerting. Her weapons had been stripped at the palace gates, despite her protests. Without a blade, her hands were balled into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.

  “Nearly a dozen,” Abbad replied curtly. “All journeyman rank or higher. The Mage Guild is tasked with helping to tend to this garden. Now come along. Let us not keep the Emir waiting any longer.”

  With that, the librarian stepped inside the garden, and the group followed reluctantly. A heavy silence hung in the air as they entered, broken only by the trickle of water from a makeshift creek that had been carved through the center of the square, the liquid filtering through flat smooth stones. Julia nudged Finn and pointed to the side, highlighting the dozens of guards that ringed the garden. They stood rigid and straight, barely moving. Even more curious, their armor had been painted in varying shades of green and brown, allowing them to more easily blend into the foliage.

  Yeah, definitely paranoid, Finn thought to himself. The question was what the Emir was so damn afraid of. The guilds, perhaps? But would they really be foolish enough to move against him? That didn’t feel quite right.

  Finn’s eyes turned to the far end of the garden. A solitary old man sat in a common garden chair, leaning back as he observed a board placed on the small table before him.

  “My Emir,” Abbad said in greeting as they approached, sweeping into a bow.

  Finn and the others followed the librarian’s lead, attempting the same courtly bow – only less gracefully. For her part, Julia barely dipped her neck and shoulders.

  The Emir turned to face them, and Finn was taken aback by the cordial smile of a friendly old man, his eyes glowing with good humor. The lines of his face pulled taut as he smiled, making him look much younger than his gnarled skin would suggest. Finn wasn’t certain what he had been expecting, but it hadn’t been the open friendliness he saw on this man’s face.

  “Ahh, Abbad, it’s good to see you again,” the Emir said as the librarian neared and grasped the regent’s tendered hand gently. “I’d rise, but my legs seem to be unruly this morning,” he added ruefully, motioning at a staff that leaned against his chair.

  Finn had missed the staff at first and was forced to do a double take as he looked at the instrument. The staff was extraordinary, apparently having been built more for aesthetics than practicality. It was made entirely of gold, intricate runes riddling the surface, and crystals were embedded in the soft metal. Interestingly, Finn observed that the staff’s centerpiece was missing, no crystal or gem adorning the top of the weapon.

  “It is always a pleasure, my Emir,” Abbad answered, dipping his head.

  The older man’s eyes shifted to the group behind the librarian as he released Abbad’s hand, examining each of them carefully. “And this must be the Mage Guild’s champion and his companions. An interesting lot – much more eclectic than what the merchants and fighters sent to me.”

  The old man’s attention hovered on Finn. “I take it that you’re Finn?”

  “Yes, Emir,” Finn answered, bowing his head slightly in imitation of Abbad.

  “So courteous for a traveler,” the Emir observed, a hint of amusement coloring his voice. “My encounters with your kind have led me to believe that your own world must be a dour and aggressive place – at least if their often-crass behavior is any indication.”

  Kyyle let out a soft snort of amusement. “I can’t speak for the other travelers, of course,” Finn replied calmly, unperturbed by the regent’s tone. “All I can say is that the few are not representative of the many.”

  The Emir watched him for a heartbeat as their eyes met, and Finn felt like he detected an appreciative understanding there. “Indeed,” he murmured. “Well, then let us prove that you’re not all entitled beasts. Why don’t you play a match with me?” the Emir said, waving at the board before him. A soldier stepped forward from a nearby hedge, pulling out a chair opposite the old man while the regent waited expectantly.

  When Finn hesitated, Abbad urged him forward, motioning to the chair.

  Apparently, this wasn’t a request.

  Finn glanced at the group before slowly taking a seat opposite the regent. As he sat down, the Emir let out a hacking cough, another guard materializing with a handkerchief, which the regent took gratefully. Even after the fit passed, it left the Emir wheezing, his face pale, and a few droplets of blood now stained the fabric.

  “My apologies,” the Emir croaked at Finn. “Unfortunately, the rumors of my ailing health are rather accurate – which I suppose is the reason for this visit,” he said, a twinkle in his eye as he met Finn’s gaze.

  “I know firsthand the burdens of age,” Finn replied slowly. “I have found it to be a slow and painful erosion toward the finish line.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “I often wonder if it would be easier to die in battle – a quick strike, and then it’s over. In some ways, that seems a mercy compared to the purgatory of age.”

>   The Emir’s eyes gleamed as he looked back at Finn. “Ahh, the wisdom that comes with years. It’s refreshing. I find I am always surrounded by these young people that don’t appreciate my aches and pains,” he added, waving at Kyyle and Julia as an example. “Or my occasional masochistic sense of humor.”

  Finn nodded. He could certainly relate. “So what game are we playing?” he asked. The “board” had been etched into the stone table itself, creating familiar rows of squares. In each was a white or black pebble, the similarly colored tokens facing off against one another on either side of the board.

  “I believe your kind call this game ‘checkers’ – which is a strange name,” the Emir said, waving a wrinkled hand at the table. “We call it ‘stones’ here. We’re not much for creativity. Have you heard of this game?”

  “Yes, I have,” Finn answered. “I suppose I’ll be black?” he offered, gesturing at his side of the board.

  “Indeed, I’ll even give you the first move – as my guest, it is only right,” the Emir replied.

  Finn’s hand drifted forward, and he shifted a piece.

  Checkers was an interesting choice. There were fewer possible moves than a game like chess – which had variable pieces. However, the margin of error was also smaller. Finn had done some computational programming assignments back in the day using these types of board games, so he knew that the optimal game of checkers played to a draw. In short, a single mistake could result in a loss.

  The Emir made a move.

  “I find this game refreshing,” the old man commented. “Straightforward rules, concrete patterns, identifiable variables, and a fast pace of play. More than that, it is inherently fair. Each side is given an equal number of stones, and they all move the same way. It is bounded and codified – a break from the chaos of life.”

  Finn glanced at the Emir as he made another move, his brow furrowing. Was there some subtext to the regent’s words? “I suppose I can understand that,” Finn replied noncommittally.

  “A reserved and polite reply,” the Emir said with a snort of amusement. “Although, I suppose your mind is somewhere else, and I have been peppering you with small talk.” A glance at Finn. “Perhaps you’re considering the next leg of my competition?”

  It was Finn’s turn to let out a laugh. While this man was clearly powerful, his attitude was disarming – not at all the heavy-handed tyrant that Finn had been expecting. “Well, yes. I’ll admit I am just a bit curious.”

  The Emir nodded, a smile gracing his lips as he took one of Finn’s stones. “As I’m certain Abbad told you, this next event is a group activity, and you will be permitted to bring companions.”

  “Yes, Abbad’s instructions were quite clear,” Finn offered as he made another move, and one of the Emir’s stones was removed from the board. Even without Daniel’s assistance, he could already visualize the next few steps, the patterns flitting through his mind’s eye.

  “Good, then we can skip that step,” the Emir said. His eyes gleamed as he leaned toward Finn, the game momentarily forgotten. “As for the goal, you and the other champions are tasked with recovering an object of immense power – a relic from a time before the gods were removed from this world.

  “I suppose you can think of it as a race. The first champion to recover the object and return wins.” The regent let out a soft chuckle. “As I said, I’m fond of simple games.”

  As the regent finished speaking, a notice appeared in front of Finn.

  New Quest: Do You Feel Like a Relic?

  The Emir is aging and ill and is seeking a successor. In his “infinite wisdom,” he has decided to find his replacement by pitting Lahab’s guilds against one another. While you have completed the first leg of that competition and been chosen as your guild’s champion, your journey is far from finished.

  As the next stage of the Emir’s competition, he will be sending you and your companions to reclaim a powerful magical relic – racing the other champions to accomplish the same goal. What could possibly go wrong?

  Difficulty: S

  Success: Recover the relic and return to the Emir.

  Failure: Lose the relic or allow another champion to return with it first.

  Reward: Rulership of Lahab.

  Even without the notification’s snarky input, Finn already had a suspicion that this competition would be far from straightforward. “Since we will be provided with teammates, I assume this relic is heavily guarded?” he asked.

  The Emir nodded. “The object itself is contained in a region to the north, past the shifting sands. We refer to that area as the Abyss.” At the mention of their destination, Finn noted that more than one of the otherwise-stoic guards ringing the garden shuffled in place.

  Okay, that’s a bad sign.

  “How should we find this relic? Is the Abyss large?” Finn asked.

  “Yes. Left to your own devices, the search could take weeks. You will be provided with the location of the vault believed to hold the relic once you arrive at your destination,” the Emir continued.

  He looked up at Finn, giving him a wry smile. “Consider this insurance. We wouldn’t want anyone to get ahead of themselves, now would we? That wouldn’t make for a fair match.”

  Finn made another move, his thoughts whirling.

  So, it was clear that they would need to leave the city. With Abbad’s warning fresh in his mind, Finn was starting to suspect that the need for companions wasn’t motivated only by the dangers posed by the Abyss. The journey itself would provide the other guilds with plenty of opportunities to ambush them and undermine their progress – that competition tempered only slightly by the need for the map data the regent had mentioned.

  The Emir seemed to read his thoughts. “I also understand that the guild leadership can be rather ambitious, and there are other dangers among the sands. In the interest of creating a level playing field, a division of my royal guard shall escort you and the other champions to the Abyss. Once you enter, then you will be on your own. Whoever returns first with the relic will then be escorted back to Lahab,” the Emir offered as he took another of Finn’s stones.

  “What does this relic look like?” Finn asked.

  “A large gem, about the size of my fist,” the Emir answered.

  “That’s our only description? A gem.” Finn arched an eyebrow.

  The Emir chuckled. “Trust me. You’ll know it when you see it.”

  Chewing on his lip, Finn stared down at the board, mulling over both the Emir’s words and his next play. He could visualize the next few moves and knew they were heading toward a stalemate. However, making the wrong move would extend the game and leave the regent the victor, possibly allowing Finn to obtain more information. Finn only hesitated for a fraction of a second before making his move.

  “Ahh, damn,” he muttered, feigning irritation as the regent removed one of his stones from the board.

  A small smile pulled at the old man’s lips. “A momentary negligence. You will need to be more observant outside the walls of the city. Despite my precautions, the Merchant Guild and Fighter Guild have made it clear that as much as they despise each other, they both agree that a traveler should not win this competition.”

  “And is that your opinion as well?” Finn ventured.

  The Emir looked up at him sharply. Only a moment later, the severe expression disintegrated into mild amusement, and his attention returned to the board. “I am interested in seeing the results – whatever they may be. Does that not fascinate you? To set a game in motion, to watch the moves your opponent makes, to determine if your guess at the outcome is accurate? Experimentation is a form of gambling, and the rush can be just as exciting.”

  “I suppose so,” Finn murmured, watching the Emir. Indeed, the old man did look excited at the prospect of seeing the conclusion of his competition.

  “Take this game, for example,” the Emir said as he took another stone. “It is a simple contest – one I have now played with all three champions. And yet you
all have approached it in radically different ways.”

  Finn took one of the Emir’s stones. Only four more moves left. Defeat was inevitable, but he felt no twinge of disappointment – information was power, after all.

  “The merchant actually tried to bargain with me!” the Emir offered, smacking his bony thigh. “She attempted to gamble on the outcome of the game – a prize to benefit her during this competition. She took it as an opportunity for advancement.”

  “Did she win?” Finn asked.

  The Emir looked up at him then, a smile tugging at his lips. “She surely felt that she had – but we shall see.”

  Finn lost another stone as the regent continued, “In contrast, the fighter simply charged from the front. He played the game intensely and with impeccable focus, intent upon victory. Yet that ultimately still failed him in the end, wounding his tender pride in the process. That one would go to great lengths to be the victor – perhaps he would even go too far to recover from a misstep.”

  The Emir shook his head sadly.

  The board now only held a handful of stones, two moves remaining before Finn lost. Yet the regent stopped, setting his hands on the table and turning his full attention back to Finn, his jovial expression gone and replaced with a severe, penetrating glance, his eyes clinical and filled with an uncanny intelligence.

  “And then we have you…” the Emir murmured. “Older than the rest. Prudence and wisdom before pride and ambition. While the others all fell before me, you are the only one who chose to fail intentionally.”

  Finn froze, held captive by the man’s gaze. “The game isn’t over,” he offered weakly.

  “Ahh, but we both know that it is,” the Emir replied, arching an eyebrow. “Of the three champions, you are the only one that put aside his own pride in order to obtain your goal. That is a rare thing to see.”

  The Emir leaned forward. “And for that curiosity, I have offered you a reward – a brief insight into your opponents. Use it well.”