The Right to Choose

by Andrey Vasilyev

  ***

  Showing up at the castle at night was already becoming a habit. I’d only seen it a couple times during the day, with the rest of my visits coming under cover of darkness. It was a cool picture, though, what with the torches on the walls and everything else.

  “Nice, huh?” I said to Nazir, who looked around stolidly.

  “Something’s going on over there.” He pointed at one of the fortress walls.

  Peering in that direction, I noticed that he was right. Someone was trying to catch someone else, or, maybe, someone was running away from someone else. Two flames were scooting along the wall—torches, by the look of them.

  “Have you dropped the scroll off in your room yet?” Suddenly, Kro was next to me. “It’s not a good idea to carry it around.”

  “I didn’t think you’d still be in the game,” I replied, ignoring her question. “You’ve been in here for quite a while today.”

  “Eh, there’s nothing to do at home,” Kro replied with a wave. “It’s just listening to my parents get on my case and picking up the phone when the idiots from the college try to get me to go celebrate New Year’s with them. Like I have nothing better to do than drink cheap vodka in someone’s apartment and then try to beat their sweaty hands off me.”

  “Really? I wouldn’t know, I never had that problem. Although, I don’t even remember what it was like at my college, anymore. I’ll be celebrating the holiday the same way half the country will.”

  “How is that?”

  “Eat too much and fall asleep. Well, maybe, I’ll watch some fireworks.”

  Wait, where would I do that? The only thing I could see out my window was snow.

  That wasn’t a big deal, however. All those rockets and bombs just surprised me most of the time, anyway. At least, the people launching them surprised me.

  Chinese fireworks cost good money, and the people shooting them into the sky aren’t setting fire to their fuses; they’re setting fire to packets of money they earned—honestly or otherwise. It’s a whole money-burning party, complete with happy shouts and dancing. I was never able to make the logic work in my head.

  Wait, Kro is still in college? I thought she was older.

  “Yeah,” she said with a grimace, “it’s boring. My stepsister lived with us for a while, and we had a lot of fun. She’d think up all these games for the holidays, even get dad to join in. He isn’t that kind of guy, more your typical businessman. But then she moved out, and it got boring. I’ll probably be here for New Year’s, see what Raidion cooks up for us.”

  “They’ll probably do something. Oh, what’s that?”

  Two knights holding torches rushed down the stairs, apparently the two who had just been running along the wall.

  Looking closer, I recognized Giden de Stern and Rozen di Krants, the young knights von Akhenvald had sent as reinforcements.

  “What are you doing running around like that?” I asked. “This isn’t the time or the place for you to play tag.”

  “You should see what happened,” de Krants said, his cheeks flushed.

  Wings fluttered above our heads. “Well, what is it? Let’s hear!”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Tren-Bren indignantly. She was flying around out of reach. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

  “That question could be taken a few different ways,” the fairy pouted. “I still haven’t forgiven you two for that trick you pulled today. You embarrassed me in front of everyone, and now I can’t look anyone in the eye!”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Kro said sharply. “Now, you understand a little of what we usually feel after your shenanigans. It’s something new every day, and we have to pick up the pieces.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it.” Tren-Bren frowned, but I could see that Krolina had hit home.

  “I sure hope so,” I exhaled before turning to the knight. He’d frozen next to us. “So, what’s going on?”

  “There’s a ghost,” Giden de Stern whined. “He’s scary, with a beard down to his waist.”

  “And they’re knights of the order!” We were joined by two more people: Gunther von Richter and Brother Mikh, who, for some reason, were also out at night. The latter noticed Nazir and blinked in surprise. “For shame—two Knights Templar scared by a single ghost.”

  Apparently, my two friends had made up. That’s good. The accountant had healed quickly, too, as I’d left him in Atarin Castle with a broken leg. Some things are relative in the game, I guess. Hassan ibn Kemal probably had something special he could use to heal with a wave of his hand.

  “Do you have any idea how terrifying he is?” di Krants said piteously. “You should hear what he had to say about the king!”

  “Oh, that’s what you’re talking about!” I had figured it out. The irrepressible old man couldn’t get enough. “Let’s go take a look at this bearded friend of yours. There’s a ghost wandering the castle, an old ghost. Kro, are you coming?”

  “Of course.” Krolina headed up the stairs. “Ghosts are always interesting. Kid, stay nearby and behave yourself. Don’t tease the ghost, don’t spit at it, don’t pull on its beard.”

  “What kind of life is this?” the fairy muttered as she flew off after Krolina. “Don’t go there, don’t come here. I can’t go anywhere.”

  “You’re a disgrace,” von Richter said softly to the pair of knights. “In the next battle, you’re going to lead the attack, got it?”

  “Obedience to the Goddess, Grandmaster.” Di Krants smacked his chest with his armored fist; de Stern copied the gesture. Then, they turned simultaneously and headed toward the stairs.

  “Come on,” Brother Mikh said to Gunther, keeping his tone low. “They’re just kids who lost their heads. It happens.”

  “They’re knights, not seamstresses,” von Richter shot back. “Their fate is to protect people from the spawn of evil and, most likely, to die in service to their mission. To die, but not to retreat. To die, but not to play the coward.”

  “I don’t know,” Brother Mikh yawned. “Cowardice is the kind of thing you don’t see right away. I don’t think they were being cowards. Ghosts and the undead always take you by surprise at the beginning when you aren’t ready for them.”

  Von Richter wanted to say something in reply, but I pushed him on ahead.

  “While you’ve been arguing, Kro got all the way up to the wall. What if that evil bearded character up and drags her away? Where are you going to look for her, Knight? Will you spend the rest of your life wandering like a pilgrim in search of her?”

  The knight took off up the stairs like a sprinter, shoving de Stern and di Krants to the side.

  Brother Mikh and I glanced at each other before heading up ourselves.

  Suddenly, I heard a moan come from under a cart next to the stairs. Flosi dragged himself out with a groan. What’s going on tonight?

  “What are you all yelling for?” My toilet worker pulled himself to his feet, wobbled, and shivered. I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the hangover. “And why are you running? Don’t you get enough of that during the day? A guy can’t even get some sleep around here, what with all that metal banging around. Oh, and the little animal is sending sparks everywhere, too.”

  Tren-Bren was already up on the wall, where she was shooting off her fireworks.

  “You need to stop drinking,” I called over to him sternly. “There’s something coming up for you, something important, and I need you to be sober and ready to go.”

  I didn’t want to head north without Flosi; there was a good chance he would come in handy. Grabbing a reputational medallion from Gunther was a good idea, too.

  “Oh, Laird,” the toilet worker said, trying unsuccessfully to come to attention. His balance didn’t let it happen. “I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you.”

  “You heard me. Or am I going to have to go without you?”

  “I’m done.” He tried to flash some sort of gesture toward me, telling me how focused he was going to be on fighting off
the alcohol, but he didn’t have nearly the coordination. “And if Flosi says it, Flosi does it. Should I come up there with you?”

  “Go sleep,” I replied with a wave. “Get your strength back.”

  Flosi nodded in understanding and crawled back under the cart.

  “Hey, where are you guys?” someone called from above us. “Are you going to be much longer?”

  “We’re coming,” I called back. “Be quiet, people are trying to sleep.”

  ***

  The view from the wall was magical. The river glistened in the moonlight, the forest began off in the distance, and there were little lights twinkling a ways away. Night in the Borderlands was quiet and beautiful.

  “Well, where’s your ghost?” Gunther asked his two order comrades brusquely.

  “Over there.” Di Krants jabbed a finger in the direction of a covered walkway.

  “Yep, there he is,” I said, noticing a bluish glow coming toward us. “No need to go anywhere; the enema is going to find the patient on its own.”

  Yep, it was my old friend, Murrokh MacKane, still looking for someone to avenge his old murder.

  “Tell me, brave people, is there anyone among you who would like the sacred duty of wreaking righteous judgment on my murderer?” he kind of howled, his hands waving around. “Kill the evil MacMagnus and restore justice!”

  “Oh, a quest,” Krolina said. “Wow. Maybe, someone should accept it?”

  “No need for that,” I replied. “Check the description.”

  “Right, definitely not for us. You’d have to be an idiot to accept that.”

  Tren-Bren coughed up above us.

  “Hey, my friend,” I said to the ghost as he flickered in the darkness, having traded his colorful shroud in for armor, “how many times do I have to tell you that there isn’t anyone here who wants to get involved in your petty squabbles? Find your peace up there in the skies.”

  “Oh, it’s you again,” MacKane said, his arm movements ceasing. “Are you following me?”

  “You’re the one wandering around here,” I replied indignantly. “You even scared my knights.”

  “He didn’t scare them; he just alarmed them,” von Richter said, still embarrassed. “But, still, Laird Hagen is right. What are you trying to do? Respectable people lie in their graves after their death. Only the undead wander like this.”

  His hand found its way to the pommel of his sword.

  “I feel bad for him,” the fairy sighed. “He’s walking around here all blue and feeling down, howling like a stray dog.”

  Tren-Bren cut loose an imitation, even moving her arms to show how slow the poor ghost was.

  “Should we take him out?” Brother Mikh was as practical as ever. “One way or another, he’s pushing for a coup, and they cut heads off or stick you on a stake for less. In the South, for example, they’d have dragged us off to the executioner just for listening to him.”

  “You hear that?” Gunther said to Giden de Stern and Rozen di Krants. “The king would be well within his rights to execute the two of you! He wouldn’t do it to us since we’re friends, but you… He’ll take you to the square tomorrow, bring out a guy in a red hood with a large axe, and he’ll have both of your empty heads. Or, maybe, he’ll drop you on stakes. Things are simple around here; they don’t care what your ancestors did.”

  “Well, what is it?” the ghost asked peevishly. “I take it, none of you are heroes?”

  “Oh, we’re heroes,” I replied, “but we aren’t fools. And you just wait there while we decide what to do with you.”

  “With me?” the ghost asked indignantly. “No, you know what? I’m never setting foot in this castle again. Nobody respected me in life, and they don’t respect me in death, either.”

  He flashed blue, a wave rippled through him, his armor disappeared, and he was once again in his shroud.

  “Screw all of you!”

  To the fairy’s immeasurable delight, he flashed us an inappropriate gesture, spat, and leaped off the wall.

  “He was probably a nice enough person when he was alive,” Gunther said. “Death really changes you.”

  “That’s for sure,” I replied. “But, whatever, he’s gone now. Kro?”

  “What?” She had gone over to the wall and was looking down.

  “Let our guys know not to accept that quest. You never know when he might be back, and not everyone reads quest descriptions before they accept them. More like the other way around; they accept without thinking.”

  “Are you talking about me?” the fairy asked sullenly from above us.

  “Tren, sweetie, of course not!” Kro chirped gently. “Didn’t you hear him say the word ‘thinking’? He definitely wasn’t talking about you.”

  I clapped my hands together. “Well, time for bed? Morning’s coming up pretty soon, and I don’t even see any fireflies.”

  “Agreed,” Brother Mikh said. “Definitely time.”

  I turned to him. “Hey, can you find a place for Nazir to stay?”

  “Sure.” The accountant glanced at the implacable assassin. “He’s serving you now?”

  “Put it this way—he’s watching my back, too.”

  “Just make sure you don’t forget to bring me along wherever you go,” he said seriously.

  “Did you promise you’d do that or something?”

  “A girl promised not to go out after sundown, and they only saw her belly closer to spring,” Brother Mikh said with a mirthless laugh.

  “I’m going to head off,” Gunther said. “There’s something I need to discuss with these two…um…knights.”

  He headed over to the two poor guys, who were standing off to the side and looking away.

  “Let’s go,” Brother Mikh said to the assassin. “I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

  “I should be next to you,” Nazir said to me quietly, ignoring the accountant. “Those are my father’s orders.”

  “You will be,” I replied. “For now, though, go sleep. Today is done. That’s an order, too.”

  He didn’t like that, but he walked off with Brother Mikh.

  “Wow,” Kro said as she came over. “And here I was trying to figure out what he was doing here. So, ibn Kemal gave you a personal guard? Or—”

  “I prefer to think of him as a guard,” I said, cutting her off before she could call him a spy. That was the first thing that had occurred to me back in Atarin Castle, but I figured it wasn’t the smartest thing to say aloud. One way or another, he represented two more blades in very capable hands, and that was something I very much needed. I didn’t doubt that he’d defend me to the last, either. Hassan’s order had been clear, and his assassins had obedience in their blood.

  “I didn’t even say anything to him,” the fairy called from above us. “See what a good job I’m doing?”

  “Go sleep,” I replied. “Kids should all have gone potty and to bed by this time.”

  “You’d like us to think that,” Krolina added.

  “Okay, fine, everyone’s leaving anyway.” Tren-Bren winked at Nazir and logged out.

  “Will you be here tomorrow?” Kro asked.

  “Nope.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “You aren’t the only one with New Year’s coming up.”

  “See you around, then,” she said, waving and melting into the air.

  “See you,” I replied to what was already nothing and hit the same button.

  ***

  My lifestyle had already settled, both in the game and in real life. I only visited the castle at night, and the same was true out of the game. It was always dark when I crawled out of the capsule to find something to eat in the kitchen. Vika was always asleep.

  I really needed to spend some time at the gym before that turned your average middle-aged guy into that man with the belly. That wasn’t such a terrible thing, but still… I’d always spent too much time on my feet to get fat, but now, all I was doing was lying around and eating. When you’re on the wrong side of thirty, thi
ngs catch up to you in an instant. I’ll find out where the gym is tomorrow; Vika said something about there being one…or, maybe, the day after tomorrow.

  My conscience soothed, I went to bed. Morning was just around the corner.

  ***

  From the thirteenth edition of the Fayroll Times:

  From the editor

  …even if we haven’t spent that much time together—less than a year—our paper has found its reader and picked up some popularity in the Fayroll community. There are even a lot of you out there reading it to find out what thousands upon thousands of people find so alluring.

  The Great River: On the Banks of the Crisna, Near Selgar

  …and its proximity to one of the Rattermark capitals makes it a certainty that quests aren’t the only way to pick up a few levels. Among the biggest quests are protecting Promi, a village, from some marauders, something you can do as part of a group, though that compicates things; a quest series focused on the missing daughter of someone from the settlement Ai-Tal; and destroying a nest of ghouls in the abandoned city of Tampira. However, one of the most interesting quest series in the location, which we’ll take a closer look at today, is the search for an amulet that was stolen from the chief’s house in the village of Tempia.

  Excerpts from the Fayroll Chronicle

  The Tsurumaki clan announced that it is disbanding. A conflict between the founders led to a mass exodus, with members tired of the fighting and voting to shut things down.

  The Great Oskol and Dvina clans announced plans to have a great time celebrating New Year’s. They’re all set for a huge party in the lands they control down in the Southern Mark, and are inviting everyone who would like to come ring in the new year with them. There will be competitions, relay races, dances around the palms, kite flying, and dancing until you drop. There might even be surprises!

  The Wolves of the North clan alliance completed a big raid in the Northern Sea aimed at catching and killing the World Serpent. Sadly, it was not a success. The beast found them first, quickly followed by the raid group’s destruction. The record set six months ago by the Hounds of Death remains unbroken; they are still the latest with Yormungad’s skull in their trophy museum. In total, the World Serpent has only been beaten six times and is considered the second most difficult raid monster after Klatornakh.