Clan Dominance - the Sleepless Ones 2

by Dem Mikhailov

  “Ugh!” I said, jumping back toward the path from the treacherous lake.

  You have received a six-hour buff: The Aura of Love!

  Your sexual attraction level has changed drastically; no woman can resist your charms now.

  Additional information: the effect doesn’t affect other players.

  “So, what did you find?"

  “Same as always, I shrugged, staying behind Kyre’s shoulder again. Love...”

  Those poor fishes and clams. They have to live in that water forever.

  Our second short stop happened when we’d dallied for a while as the path leading us forward made a turn toward a small well-built house, which was nothing much — a double-sloped tiled roof, a few windows with carefully-made window frames, and a door inviting you in. And there was a vertical pillar of light falling from the heavens; bright enough to be noticed even on a sunny day.

  There was the sound of footsteps as three children jumped outside and instantly started to raise hell, beating the dust up with their bare feet. But there was no soundtrack to them playing whatsoever, and little wonder — a single look at their faces would explain why they’d been so silent for kids. They had no faces; just whitish ovals above their shoulders, with nothing remotely resembling a nose, a mouth, or a pair of eyes.

  We didn’t wait for their parents; once we got some twenty paces away, I realized I had a Diamond Spikes scroll in my hand without even remembering of how I’d pulled it out. And when I glanced back for a second, I saw an enormous wide-shouldered figure on the porch, big enough to cover the entire doorway.

  “I don’t know who’d created this location in the first place, but he was pretty freaking far from normal,” I mumbled as I placed the scroll back into one of my jacket pocket. “Damaged good. A misguided Cronenberg.”

  “What are you talking about, Ros? This is just the entry location. Have you ever been to the Foothills of Darkness or the Guannmahore abyss? And how about the Dandrog dungeon? Those are real horrors.

  “Never been there. Those are raid party locations; a loner will never venture there. And you’d need a special key to Dandrog, anyway.”

  “You can always found them at the auction. That’s where I got mine.”

  “You can,” I nodded, shifting the topic so as not to remind the rich girl that a key like that would cost a few hundred dollars. “The mist is really near. Is this where the madness location begins?”

  “It must be.”

  “There’s another thing that comes to my mind,” I said, making a surprised face. “Do you remember that the location is supposed to be filled with the insanity of a woman betrayed by her loved one in the most nefarious manner? How does that compute at all? Back at the Créche you were telling me that Myrthe fell on a battlefield, Grym being unable to protect her. Did he flee the battlefield, leaving his true love behind?”

  “I did. I did mention it,” Kyre replied in an automaton voice. “Ros; don’t start again. You’d promised not to ask any questions.”

  “Another forbidden topic,” I said sadly. “All right, let’s leave that one behind. Let me tell you a joke instead. A newbie’s walking down one of Créche streets, and suddenly hears an evil-sounding voice from a dark alley saying, “Hey, mate come over here.”

  “There are no dark alleys at the Créche!”

  “Listen up! It’s a joke, right? So the newbie hears it and somehow, gradually...”

  * * *

  We were walking through a flower-filled... field? I somehow doubted the fact that the bacchanal of flowers stretching over all this space could really be given a name. There were flowers of every shape and hue imaginable covering all the space in sight. The landscape was virtually even with a small hillock scattered every now and then, covered in the very same flowers making one’s eyes lose focus; a gardener’s dream of a location. The only thing to rest one’s wandering eye upon was the slowly-approaching grayish-white wall of mist.

  The conversation was gradually running out and transforming into rare dialogues, then just an exchange of short phrases, then ended completely; Kyre shut up like a clam, only looking in front of her and occasionally fidgeting with the iridescent stone underneath her chain mail. I had tried to use my wit to bring her out of that state, but shrugged admitting my absolute defeat eventually. Inasmuch as I was concerned, their clan had too serious an approach to all that; if there’s no fun at all, why play in the first place?

  At any rate, the last miles and feet were spent in complete silence through the iridescent clouds of pollen. Our silent marathon had reached a discernible barrier, jumping toward us eagerly and flowing back in reluctance, making me gulp nervously.

  The border wasn’t really set in place; the Rubicon between love and madness was a wall of whitish fog, pulsating in time loathsomely, reaching up to the sky; even the way it had looked was saying it couldn’t be jumped over or walked around. Finally, there was the sound of a beating heart reaching my ears; not mine — it came from the wall of mist. And this rhythm wasn’t just a quiet heartbeat; it was sharp and uneven, becoming muffled every now and then as if its owner was either running somewhere, or fighting someone, or dying in their final rush of adrenaline, the last moments of their life trickling away.

  Somewhere on each tenth pulsating beat the wall of mist moved forward instantly, right into the territory of the meadow, only to roll back again, leaving nothing but a broad stroke of gray where the large carpet of flowers had been just a minute ago. Dried-out flower stalks, faded buds falling to the ground, leaves twisted in vegetative agony and dust settling slowly; dust that looked like fine ash. A brief moment would come, there would be a light breeze, and the plants that had looked dead and gone would start filling with colors, the main one being green; the stalks would straighten, and the buds would turn toward the sun and open.

  “This sure is something,” Kyre drawled lazily, looking at the plants revived after the last wall of mist had rolled back.

  “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” I asked, without hoping for much, gazing at the billowing mist. “What kind of crap is this?”

  “No idea, Ros,” Kyre replied, and I knew it to be true as I looked into her eyes. “Every book that mentions this quest zone just lists rage, sorrow, love, and madness. There are also a few short ditties written about it; would you like me to read them to you again?”

  “No, thanks,” I said. “I’ve heard enough of them to last me a lifetime. You know, Kyre...”

  “Eh?”

  “I really feel like turning back, telling Gosha to fuck right off, and press the Exit button,” I confessed. “To hell with the remaining money. I am already weary and at the end of my tether, and then we’re confronted by such scary natural phenomena as these.”

  “So you’re staying here?” Kyre asked. I was surprised. No fists waved in the air, no reminders of the promise I’d made, no motivational speeches, nothing but a question asked in a soft voice.

  “Duh... Of course I’m in it with you, what other options do I have?” I sighed. “Stay here for a while, and I’ll make a brief reconnaissance into the world of madness.”

  Having taken a step forward, I found myself two paces away from the wall of misty vortices, and stopped. I waited for the invisible heart to beat a few more times, barely managing to keep my eyes open, then the wall that had been throbbing all along swayed my way softly. The misty tentacles gripped me in their tight embrace; some indecipherable mumbling and whining sounds infiltrated my ears. The opaque blurry veil barely obscured my view for a second, and then disappeared instantly, as if having been dissolved, and that’s when I saw the next zone in detail.

  * * *

  The insanity location looked like hell with all the flames put out. Or a woodland after a fire, but a fire where it wasn’t just the vegetation burning, but the very earth and the very skies, too. The transparent blue sky disappeared without a trace, having become replaced by an endless shroud of gray clouds burnt black on their furry sides. The spots
of blackened earth were like ulcers on the pillow of ash, covering everything, with burnt trees sticking out like matches and something like gigantic bones smothered in black sludge. There were specks of ash flickering in the air, and the cacophony of a church organ out of tune in my ears. I could clearly discern howling, mumbling, pitiful sobbing, tinny howling, and husky moaning, punctuated by ellipses of agonized sighs, accompanied by waxing and waning doleful sounds of something resembling a fiddle out of tune.

  I exhaled in surprise as I froze as a statue; the tide of the mist pulled back at that moment, and I found myself in the flower field again, standing among blackened and withered stalks.

  The frightened yell from behind my back made me turn around; then it repeated. Kyre pressed her hands to her mouth and jumped back; her eyes, pupils dilated with fear, fixed on me.

  “Kyre, what is it?” I barked as I turned around. “Tell me!”

  “R-ros...”

  “Who else would it be?” I said gruffly, somewhat confused, spreading my arms and checking myself head to foot. “The one and only.”

  “That’s right...” the girl whispered, lowering her hands slowly. “Sorry, Ros.”

  “Whatever would make you shout like that and run like hell?”

  “You should have seen yourself, Ros,” Kyre replied softly, shrugging as if from the cold, taking a step forward, and touching my shoulder. “Hell... It really is you.”

  “No! I’ve been replaced by a changeling! Kyre, answer me directly — what made you shout? What did you see? A different version of me?”

  “No... Right now, when you asked me, I realized it was you. But it was a different you before... A bad person.”

  “Come again?” I said, my head ringing as the words I was hearing made no sense to me at all. “What kind of ‘a different me?’”

  “A bad one... Someone evil,” Kyre said pensively, coming to her senses. “When the mist covered you, you were standing straight, your head raised, but when all the flickering disappeared... you’d changed completely. A crooked back, your hair standing on end, your neck twitching spasmodically, and...”

  “And what?”

  “You were mumbling something. Softly; without moving your lips, almost like a ventriloquist, yet I heard every word. ‘Strike from the back... Just one hit... Take her by surprise... Let my fangs rip her flesh...”

  “I didn’t say or mumble any of that!” I replied at once, looking at the mist, amazed. “Nor was I mumbling anything!”

  “I’ve gathered as much already,” Kyre made a dismissive gesture. “And when you turned around... It was really scary, I’m telling you! You didn’t have a face! I mean, you did, but...”

  “Was it a different face? A beast’s snout? No face at all? Glowing eyes? Fangs” I gave the girl several options, but she just shook her head.”

  "No. The face was yours, but the expression... You know, the way... The way they depict really bad people in old paintings or movies... Killers, madmen, maniacs, tra...”

  “Traitors,” I finished the phrase for her, and the girl nodded in agreement.

  “That crooked grin, those wrinkles around your eyes, and the eyes themselves — like gimlets, suspicious, and looking more dead than alive! Had any cop seen you, they’d have arrested you instantly! A strangler; Jack the Ripper with a mask of Cain on! That’s who you looked like!”

  “Well, thanks so much,” I made a silly bow, and then said in a serious tone of voice, “It’s a lugubrious place. Blackened earth, gray skies, burnt forest, and ash everywhere. You can’t see much, but, oddly enough, there is no mist. Just some thin mist in the air. Something white can be barely discerned far ahead; most likely, the icy peak with Myrthe’s body. Come on, hedgehog, it’s your turn now.”

  “Hedgehog? My turn?”

  “We’ll need to check what the hedgehog sees in the mist while I look at you from behind. Just let the mist engulf you, but don’t try to move away. Wait for it to disperse,” I explained. And don’t listen to it much.

  “To what?”

  “Well, there’s someone mumbling something, and wailing, too,” I shrugged. “The location designers must have had a field day. Just make sure you don’t go anywhere.”

  “I know, right? I’m not a baby!” Kyre grunted. “And I’ve seen worse locations than this one!”

  “Sure,” I nodded. “But when you visited those said locations, you were a hardcore paladin tank with a level over a hundred, good equipment, and friends to back you up. Feel the difference. So don’t let your head get too big; just be more careful. And I’ll look at the mask of Cain.”

  “Right on,” Kyre replied, and, moving forward a little, stood still on the same place where I’d been expecting the wall of mist to engulf me. Right now I took a few steps back, a scroll with a deadly spell ready in my hand, and started waiting, listening to the dull thumping of the metronome hidden behind the wall of mist.

  There was a thump, and the tall wall of smoke moved forward instantly, swallowing Kyre’s tiny shape at once. The slowly-winding billows of mist stopped at once about a pace away from me, falling to the ground powerlessly, falling to the ground, where the flowers withered and died before your very eyes.

  I barely managed to keep myself still and not search for Kyre, who’d disappeared into the mist. I started counting; one, two, three, four, five... Before the word “six” left my lips, the mist started to recede reluctantly.

  “The madness has gone back for a while,” the phrase rustled softly through my head.

  Some bits of smoke didn’t manage to join in the mass (or, perhaps, they hadn’t wanted to in the first place), and were melting instantly, laying the ground bare, where the plants were coming back to life. A particularly large piece of mist got shredded into semi-transparent shrapnel, partly revealing Kyre, who’d been standing still. I sighed in relief, took a step forward, and froze instantly once the veil of mist dispersed, revealing to me details I hadn’t seen before.

  Blood was the first thing I’d noticed. There was blood everywhere. A whole sea of bright red blood that hadn’t congealed yet; it was covering Kyre’s entire body. A few droplets of blood were streaming down from underneath the armor, pouring onto the ground.

  But there wasn’t supposed to be any blood in Waldyra! None! It could only be used as decoration for a particularly morbid location — blood stains smeared across the walls or the ceiling, blood on the floor, or even a whole swimming-pool of blood with vampire maidens taking a bath in it, naked, of course, as the genre requires...

  And yet there was never any blood on any of the players or the locals. Even mobs died without bleeding, leaving no bloodied carcass behind it; just loot. There was no blood in this game!

  “Jesus H. Christ,” I said hoarsely, taking an uneven step forward. “Kyre! Are... Are you okay?”

  “Ros, it’s a nightmare! It’s like a photograph of Hiroshima after the bomb fell...” Something with Kyre’s voice turns toward me.

  I gulped resonantly as I saw the bloodied mask with bright eyes of cerulean blue glowing fiercely and five deep parallel slashes sideways, from the forehead to the chin, as if someone had scratched her with a careless wave of a clawed hand.

  “Ros, what’s the matter with you? Tell me! Did you see the mask of Cain, too?” The lips torn to shreds by a savage gesture smiled happily, a trickle of blood running from the corner of the mouth. “So? How was it?”

  “No,” I grunted, unable to take my eyes off the horrendously real image of Kyre with a happy smile on her mutilated face. “Not Cain. Mother of Jesus...”

  “Hey, what’s the matter with you, Ros? You don’t look yourself,” the bloodied nightmare said, surprised. Before she finished her last word, the blood started to disappear, as if wiped off by a wet sponge. The horrendous claw marks disappeared without a trace in a second; the eyes regained their initial color, and the insane glint faded.

  “Phew,” I removed the sweat that had only existed in my imagination from my forehead. “You were b
leeding. Bloody marks on your face. Walking dead.”

  “Players don’t bleed,” Kyre said as she drew her hand over her face and examined her hand, chiming in with my earlier thoughts.

  The game code should have worked; no blood, no pain. The first rule has just been broken.

  “Have you seen monsters crawling out of cracks?” I asked and winced as I saw my partner nod in denial. “OK then, let’s head back.”

  “Back? Ros! Back where exactly?”

  “Why are you yelling?” I was surprised. “Kyre, we’ve only come here for reconnaissance; to stand on the border and look at the local critters, find out who lives here, figure out their strong and weak sides, see if they’re resistant to any elements and what level they are, then level up ourselves and distribute our stat points correctly...”

  “Hey! I’m not a baby! I don’t need it explained like that!”