The Monolith

by Stephen Roark

  “Gerrard, you beautiful bastard.” I smiled as I made my way quickly over to him. He was practically shaking with excitement and tugged at the doors to open them for me like a chauffeur bending over backwards to please his master. But the latch stuck and Gerrard flipped himself up, pivoting on his hands latched to the handles, braced himself against the walls of the car and pushed back with all his might. Finally, the doors burst open, sending Gerrard tumbling backwards in a series of somersaults that dropped him at my feet.

  “Shall we?” he asked. I smirked and reached down a hand to help him to his feet. That made him happy and he quickly led the way over to the old cable car. I had to crouch to fit myself into the cramped space that seemed to be more designed for someone his size than mine, and reached for the door to close it, but Gerrard was ahead of me.

  “Let me get that for ya,” he said. I heard the smile in his voice. The latch clicked and Gerrard’s head cocked to the side. I knew he was smiling.

  “Gerrard, why do you wear that mask?” I queried. It wasn’t the world’s most delicate question, but I didn’t care. This guy had used me and both of my friends, and even if he was helping me out now, it was only because I was going to pay him for his effort.

  “Oh, that’s a story for ‘nother time,” he replied, shaking his head. A thick metal bar hung from the ceiling, and Gerrard reached out and tugged it hard. The car shifted. The sound of stuck metal freeing itself from years of rust sounded, popped and creaked as the rickety coach began to move. The wood felt like it was ready to splinter into pieces as we began to move up the mountain, and I felt the resistance as the car pushed through the heaps of leaves that ringed the glade.

  “We’ve got time, don’t we?” I asked him.

  “Ehhh…” he grumbled, again grasping for a beard that wasn’t there.

  “Come on, Gerrard,” I prodded. “Let’s get to know each other!”

  He looked up at me, then back down at his feet. “Does this have anything to do with the he that’s going to be mad because you’re using his cable car?”

  “Well, you ain’t as dumb as I thought you were,” Gerrard replied.

  “Oh, thanks,” I replied sarcastically.

  “It is him, indeed. He was once my master. His estate lies on the other side of the mountain.”

  “And what, you pissed him off so he messed up your face?”

  Gerrard leaned his head back against the wall behind him and clenched both fists atop his thighs. “He had a habit of branding his servants with a hot iron. No exceptions.”

  My stomach shifted uncomfortably at the thought. I tried not to think of seared flesh, melting skin and charred tissue. For a moment, a brief one, I felt sorry for the cutpurse. I wanted to say something comforting, but my anger from his betrayal was still fresh. Instead, I glanced out the window as the carriage broke free of the leaves that coated the glade.

  We began to slowly rise as we moved up the slope through the forest of autumn, the broccoli shaped trees parting around us like a subway line had been carved through them. I’d hoped to have a good view of what lay beneath us, but the cable car only seemed to be a few feet off the ground, well beneath the canopy above. So, instead, I let my eyes explore the woods as we passed through.

  Things moved in the shadows of the trees, with barely any of morning’s soft orange glow penetrating down to the forest floor. A dog with six legs chased a smooth-skinned rabbit, its black fangs snapping at the prey animal’s tongue-like tail. A humanoid moved behind the beast, tall and hooded with a curved spear in both hands. A black mist spilled from its feet, causing the grass to wilt and die with every step. I tried to eye it and get a quick inspection, but my view was quickly blocked by a row of thick trees.

  “Dangerous down there, Gerrard?”

  “A bit for you,” he replied. “Deadly for your friends.”

  “Gerrard. What can you tell me about this Fortune Teller?” I asked slowly. Just saying the words seemed to weigh down the air in the carriage, and I saw Gerrard’s body tense up. The view out the window was a slideshow of oranges, yellows and reds.

  “There ain’t much I can tell you, boy,” he said grimly, shaking his head. “One of those things you gotta see for yourself.”

  “Yeah, you sound like someone else I know,” I sighed, stretching out my legs as far as they could go, which wasn’t very far, and allowing myself a deep breath for the first time in a while. I listened to the gears turning on top of the cable car as they pulled their way up the metallic cable that I imagined stretched all the way up to the mountain’s peak.

  An estate on the other side, he’d said. I pushed back my gamer’s curiosity that wanted to continue over the peak and investigate and kept my mind focused on the task at hand. What would I find when I got there? Another witch like Grecia? A beautiful doll like Victoria? A titan like the Yama-Uba? Or something new entirely? The lack of information normally would have been intriguing and exciting, but was now simply a hindrance, another obstacle in my way, another question among the host of questions I now had competing for attention in my mind.

  Gerrard found the silence awkward and shifted uncomfortably. “I—just be careful, Seeker. The Fortune Teller can bring you more harm than I.”

  I asked no more questions as I rode up the mountain. Perhaps I was just tired of non-answers, or perhaps I was readying myself for what was to come, or perhaps I was just tired. Either way, we sat in silence for what felt like a long time. I looked out the window as our angle increased up the mountain and we finally emerged from the trees. I looked down on them, their fungus shaped tops like mounds of colored earth that appeared deceptively solid, as though you could sprint across them in a race to the bottom. My axe sat across my lap as the landscape began to thin out into a dark green tundra spotted by bursts of white stone that exploded from the ground like fingers reaching for the sky.

  “Almost there,” Gerrard said, nervously rubbing his hands together. Despite being inside the carriage, I could feel the air begin to cool as we rose higher up the mountain. It felt like we’d been travelling long enough to have made more progress up the mountain, though I realized we were still at the base of the enormous peak. Pressing my cheek against the cold glass, I managed to spy the wisps of snow that spun beneath the dark clouds that circled the top.

  So much to explore, I thought as the cable car began to slow. So many places to explore, but no time. No time.

  The ground rose up to meet us as the carriage slowed to a crawl. The gears or pulleys above us creaked as the carriage finally came to a halt. Out the window was a sloped slab of dark green and white that wrapped the base of the mountain like a thick belt. There were no trees or underbrush, bushes or vegetation of any kind. At first, I had no idea what I was looking for, and thought I might have an even longer hike ahead of me to find the Fortune Teller, but as Gerrard opened the double doors with the heel of his foot, I saw it.

  An altar, made from the same white stone that speckled the landscape. Its intricacy was what made it stand out. Instead of a simple slab atop two large rocks, it looked like something you’d find in a church—or maybe something you’d bury someone important in. Its sides were perfectly smooth and seemed to have grown up from the ground, while the top was carved with ornate floral patterns and symbols I didn’t recognize. A pale white sheet was draped lazily over the edge closest to us. Gerrard gazed out at it, then turned his head away as though he’d seen something terrible.

  “That be it,” he told me, shifting his body in a way that indicated his eagerness to go. He wanted me out and was ready to head back down the mountain where it was safe—at least safe for him.

  “I don’t see her,” I replied.

  “She be there. Don’t you worry.”

  I looked at him for elaboration, but he provided none. The distance from the cart to the ground had to have been less than two feet, but to me, it was a giant step. Rathborne had warned me. Gerrard had too, and was terrified of going any farther with me. My friends were gone
, respawned back at Ebonmire and maybe making their way back to the Ruins of Londorin to find me, and so for now, I was on my own, completely unprepared for whatever it was I was about to face.

  “Fine, Gerrard,” I told him as I slid out of the cable car and planted my boots on the firm soil of the base of the mountain. “But don’t think this squares us up. I run into you when I’m higher level and you better watch your ass.”

  “And my payment?” he replied with a grin. With a slightly condescending glare, I handed over the thief’s payment.

  I felt like he was smiling beneath the grey wrappings that concealed his face. “G’luck, Seeker.” Quickly, he tugged shut the doors and slammed the lever into reverse. The car’s gears rumbled, and the carriage shook and began its journey back down to the glade of the Yama-Uba. I watched as the black square moved away from me, my last link to the parts of the world that I knew.

  “Alone on a mountain,” I said to myself as the cable car disappeared into the woods below. I glanced at the explosions of white stone that burst from the ground at random intervals and thought that for all intents and purposes, I could have been one of them at that moment. Alone, with no one to talk to, no understanding of my role in what was to come, simply a feature of the landscape, like the altar draped in cold cloth.

  As I began walking toward it, my first instinct wasn’t to ready myself for battle, but was to mentally prepare and center myself. The Yama-Uba had been level 36. There was no way the Fortune Teller would be lower than the enormous hag guarding the way up her mountain, so gripping my axe and preparing my plan of attack was pointless. So, for the first time since I’d entered this world, I put my weapons away.

  It felt strange, walking alone on the emerald ground, splashes of white rock breaking around me like crests of waves hidden beneath the ridge, the source of the great power that was impossible to ignore as I walked, my eyes fixed on the altar as the cool wind blew at my back like an invisible hand urging me forward.

  The Fortune Teller does not abide by the same laws of this world as the rest of us. She is a foundation of this world. An indestructible pillar that will never fall. Your fight will not be with her, but with yourself.

  Rathborne’s words in my mind. Holding me back or pushing me on? It was impossible to tell. Nothing in this world made sense.

  Is this just another one of your games, Mizaguchi?

  No. This was something much more. I felt as though I’d wandered off the beaten path, discovered some old zone in the world that had never been intended for players to find. I’d pulled back the curtain of the universe and stepped into the blackness where the laws of physics no longer applied. And as I stepped up to the altar, and watched as the simple sheet lifted and moved all on its own, I felt ice-cold water slither through my brain like a snake, and before my knees gave out from underneath me and I was overtaken by the black, I heard a voice from everywhere and nowhere at once.

  Greetings, old friend. How long it’s taken you to find me.

  47

  Back to the Barracks

  “Don’t listen to them, Clay. We’re friends. Of course they’re going to talk. Just because none of them can have a girl as a friend doesn’t mean that all boys can’t—or shouldn’t!”

  —Rey to Clay before the move

  Warmth.

  The chill of the mountain was gone, replaced by the heat of a warm embrace, a body pressed up against me.

  A lightness in my head, like my mind recalibrating itself—puzzle pieces returning to their original positions. A mouse finding its way to the cheese at the end of a maze.

  I half expected an electric jolt like when I’d seen the monolith, but none came. In fact, it was almost the opposite. I felt as though I’d been rescued from the world, brought back home to a place so safe and secure that I’d never have to worry about anything again. And in fact, when I opened my eyes, I found myself staring up at my bedroom ceiling.

  It was a welcome shock, but a shock nonetheless, and I raised myself up on one elbow and looked around with a happy confusion. I hadn’t had to think my way out or anything! But I was home, and I wasn’t even worried about it!

  “Rand?” A voice from the living room—a female’s voice.

  “Y—yes?” I replied, swinging my feet to the floor.

  Everything felt right. Perfect. Had I forgotten something, though?

  “Can you come here? There’s someone here to see you!”

  It was my mom’s voice, and she sounded the way she did when my birthday rolled around and she had prepared a surprise for me (a surprise I always saw coming, but a surprise nonetheless). Smiling, I got to my feet and crossed the room to my door and tugged it open. But this time, unlike all the others, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw on the other side.

  Rey stood there, not 12 like she’d been when she left, but 16 like me, looking impossibly gorgeous in a white dress with laced ruffles on the shoulders and sleeves, and of course, in full Rey fashion, a pair of white high tops with double Velcro straps.

  “Rey!” I shouted, leaving all vanity aside and racing across the room to snatch her up in my arms.

  “Rand!” she laughed as I spun her around, finally setting her down in front of me. When we were young, everyone made jokes about us being boyfriend and girlfriend, but we’d only ever been friends. But a lot had happened in four years, and Rey had turned so beautiful I could hardly believe it—way more so than her holo calls had let on.

  “What are you doing here?!” I cried out, unable to believe it. My mom was grinning so wide her smile barely fit her face. I had a feeling I’d forgotten to do something, but seeing Rey and holding her in my arms was more than enough to erase any feelings of concern I had about the rest of my life.

  “We moved back to town,” she said gleefully. “My folks got a place two streets down.”

  “In the Barracks?!”

  “Yup!” she smiled, nodding effusively.

  “And you’re happy about that?” I joked. “The Barracks isn’t exactly high living.”

  “You know what else?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “I’m going to South Farron Academy too!”

  My disbelief was overwhelming. I glanced over at my mom, who obviously was fighting to contain her excitement. I blinked my eyes as a wave of emotion came over me.

  Hadn’t I been meaning to do something just before Rey arrived?

  “Rand?!” Rey’s voice shook me out of my self-imposed stupor and I snapped my eyes back to hers, saw the excitement and was reminded of all the years of friendship we’d shared and just how horrible it had been when she moved away. But—hadn’t something even worse happened?

  Gnashing teeth and screaming…

  The Seekers at the Weeping Hills running, fighting. A horde of mindless players attacking like animals.

  “Rey!” I stammered. “You—you were one of the Bloodless, though! What happened?”

  “Didn’t you hear? The government fixed everything! They shut the game down and Mizaguchi’s in prison!”

  “What?!” I shouted in disbelief. “What—”

  “It was just a cruel joke!” she replied. “Turns out, he’s a bit of a psychopath and just wanted to play God.”

  “That’s fucking awful!”

  “Rand!” my mom scolded.

  “Well it is! Did anybody die?”

  Rey nodded solemnly. “Quite a few people. But not you, and not me, and that’s all that matters.”

  Rey moved closer and pulled my body against hers. Her warmth surprised me. I felt myself begin to blush. We’d never touched in that way before, and I hadn’t even been in her presence for four years. And after all, I was a teenage boy…

  A zap shuddered through my brain.

  An aura? Was I about to seize?

  “Are you okay?” Rey asked, brushing the backs of her fingers against my cheek so gently it almost tickled.

  “Yeah, I—I don’t know,” I stammered, trying to shake off the cool sensati
on that still lingered inside my mind like a pool of ice water sloshing around, splashing against the white of my skull. “I feel…strange.”

  “It’s the leftovers from the Fount,” my mom explained. “After being inside for so long, you’re going to feel a little odd. They said it can take up to four days to fully go away.”

  “So long?” I asked as Rey caressed my blood-filled cheeks, flushed with pins and needles. I realized my hands were still around her waist like we were slow dancing.

  “You don’t remember, honey?” my mom asked.

  “No?”

  She sighed, brought her hand to her forehead. “They said that might happen too…”

  “How—how long was I in there?” I asked.

  “Three weeks,” Rey said.

  No…how could that be?

  My brain turned to mashed potatoes. They must have seen it, and my mother rushed over to me as my legs began to fail me and both helped me over to the couch so I could sit. Thoughts fragmented as I tried to form them.

  But that—that doesn’t make sense! I thought, remembering Altarus and Fujiko and Mickey—the old warehouse and the funny chair-beds where we’d logged in with our Founts. I’d been able to log out! I was one of the free! How was it possible that I’d been stuck in there for three weeks? How was I not in the hospital?

  “No…no, that doesn’t make sense!”

  “Relax, Rand,” Rey told me soothingly. “You’re going to be confused for a bit. Just try and focus.”

  “No, this doesn’t make sense!”

  “He tricked us!” Rey cried out. “Mizaguchi tricked all of us. He was playing mind games, Rand. Things we thought were real just weren’t! It was all part of his sick psychological experiment.”

  “Experiment?” I groaned. My head felt like a foreign object, heavy atop my shoulders. “That’s all it was?”

  “That’s it,” she replied, an angry look flashing across her face. “Son of a bitch didn’t understand what he had with that world! Blew it all! Such potential!”