The men exchange glances. "Okay, but any funny business and you're out. There are guards on every corner nowadays— don't upset them."
The buildings in the town overhang each other, the distance between opposite windows close enough to jump from home to home. Few people walk the streets this late. A man dressed in rags sits on the floor against one building, drinking from a bottle as he watches us pass. Two more stern guards wander by, watching us too. Zara throws them a cheery “hello” before striding towards the brighter-lit building where music and voices spill through the open doors.
I step into a spit and sawdust inn, one to match the state of the cottage we detoured to earlier: basic, rough interior to match the occupants. The place is packed with bodies and the smell as pungent as I’d expect—no freshly showered or perfumed scents here.
Groups sit around the rough tables, ceramic flagons and glass bottles in front of them. I step behind Jay and peek out, as the thick-set man behind the bar studies us.
‘People’ is a loose definition. Not everybody in here is human.
One or two I easily identify: elven, slender with angular faces and long pointed ears; others bearded and shorter than me—dwarves. The other two? I'm unsure. One green-skinned and heavy set but without the rough orc features, the other porcelain white with deep red eyes set into a scowling face.
"What now?" I whisper.
"Food." Zara weaves through the tables and approaches the bar. “Then we look for the people we need.”
I exchange glances with Dean, who scratches his head as he looks around. I'm happy somebody's taken a leadership role, but her abrasiveness and presumption we should just follow what she says could cause friction—especially with Jay once he's back to his acerbic self.
Only Dean appears laid back out of the four of us. I sink onto a chair close to the crackling and spitting fire and rest my head on the table.
My eyes flick open. My head rests on the table and the world is sideways. The tavern is quieter than before, and nobody pays attention to the mage who’s unable to do much, apart from lose consciousness after one mug of ale.
Someone's hands are folded on the table in front of me, a large ring in the middle finger with an aurora borealis gem catching the light and shining it into my eyes. I squint up from beneath my fringe.
Reuben
High Mage
Level 50
Alliance: Council of Elders
His tall figure, although slender, holds a presence as great as the muscled green guy close by. His lilac-coloured eyes with cat’s eye pupils captivate me as much as the bright purple runic mark stretching across his neck and downwards to his chest. His hair matches the mark’s colour and is dragged backwards into a severe ponytail.
"Hello, Eleanor."
I spring to attention. "Reuben. I have something for you." And hopefully you have a way out of this godforsaken place. I pull my almost-empty backpack from between my feet and open the buckle with trembling fingers.
"Here." The smooth stone looks less impressive than expected, as if I picked it up from the ground on the way here. I slide the item across the table.
Quest complete: Bring the stone to Reuben.
You receive Spicy Spider Stew.
You gain 500 XP
A barmaid plonks a ceramic bowl and wooden spoon in front of me, and I glance up in surprise at her sudden appearance. If I didn't know what the chunks of meat in the stew were, the aromatic meal might tempt me. But I do. I push the bowl to one side... nope.
"Why are you showing me your rock collection?" Reuben cocks a thin brow.
"No, look." I place the stone in the palm of my hand and the rune appears again.
Immediately, Reuben clamps his hand over the top, his long nails scraping against my wrist. "Put that away." The superior stance drops as his eyes dart around the room. "Do not show the stone in public."
"What is it?" I ask and pull my hand from under his. He feels as real as any person I've touched in this world or mine—firm hands and warm skin.
“What is your name, adventurer?” he asks.
“Eleanor. I’m new to town. I was told to come here and give you this stone.”
“By who?” The suspicion in his narrow-eyed expression grows. “Who gave you this?”
“I found it. In the...woods.” I close my eyes and curse my contradictory words. “A stranger told me you needed it.”
Reuben stands and gestures to the stairs. "Maybe we should talk in private."
Apprehension creeps across my scalp. I twist my head, searching the tables. “I had friends. Where are they?”
"Your friends left."
My chest tightens, panic setting in within half a second. No. I rub my tired eyes. I’ve had enough for tonight. “Where did they go?”
“Not far. The town is closed at night. We are under curfew.”
I blink and look around the inn. A few patrons sleep, heads on the tables, unaffected by the loud voices from dwarves crowded around a nearby table. Other elves nearby sit upright, not speaking, but watching those around. I rub my head. This has to be a dream.
“I sense you are a mage too, Eleanor. A novice come to the town for instruction, perhaps?” I nod. “How fortunate you met me straightaway.”
Quite the coincidence.
"I have some instructions for you, and you must tell me more about yourself." He eyes the stone in my hand then gives me a tight smile.
"Will your instructions help get me out of here?" I whisper.
"Out of where? Alaria?"
"What's Alaria?"
"This continent. You wish to travel?"
"No, I want to leave the game."
"What game?"
Oh god. "This game."
"I assure you there is no game here. I am being truthful with you."
"I want to find the edge of the world," I say. "Is that possible?"
"The edge?" He places his hands on the table and leans in. "Nobody reaches the Fringes and survives."
My chest tightens further. "You mean they never return?"
"Yes. Someone must be highly skilled and experienced to navigate the wilds towards the edge of this continent. You're inexperienced, with weak powers, and would need to progress. I can teach you magic skills, if that's what you desire—the rest is in your hands."
I grip the stone harder and it digs painfully into my palm as I listen to what sounds like a game script. Can I trust him? Reuben hasn’t tried to kill me and is a skilled mage. And he's an elf with a quest. "Okay, let's talk."
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t leave bars with weird guys, but the band around my wrist offers more than quests. I’m forced to follow what this screen tells me to do in order to find my way. To complete quests. Level up. Hell, my head hurts. I almost trip over a scrawny dog lying at a man’s feet. It lifts its head and growls in warning.
As Reuben’s elegant figure steps through the open tavern door, I pause as something shimmers in and out of view at the edge of my vision. The room flickers, like a TV screen skipping frames, and a nearby elf momentarily loses hair and clothing. The bar he stands at disappears and returns. Is this a trick of the mind caused by exhaustion? I rub my eyes and even though everything returns to normal, reality slips further from beneath my feet.
Whatever Reuben says, this is a game.
Chapter Eight
Reuben calls my name and breaks me from my vision. I don’t want to stay in the tavern alone. I pull my backpack higher on my shoulder and spirits lift as we make our way through the cobbled streets. This man is a High Mage—I bloody hope he’s the character who can teach me spells and skills.
The streets in the dark town are empty and I can only make out rows of identical buildings, interspersed with benches and the odd tree. We pass a town square, where a fountain trickles water across matching grey stone. Two guards watch us pass and drop their aggressive stance when Reuben greets them.
We reach a building set further back from the streets, taller with numerous windows, s
ome illuminated and others dark. A small set of stairs leads to the door, where the runes engraved in the frame point out that magic is within.
Magus Academy, my band informs me.
Reuben ushers me inside and I barely get a glimpse of the place as he leads me along a lantern-lit, tiled hallway. His shoes sound on the floor, mine are quiet and my feet are sore from walking a long distance in barely-there shoes. Reuben's room is large and high-ceilinged, but the space is cramped by the number of bookshelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling. A rectangular table covered in open books dominates the room’s centre. He closes the door behind us and crosses to light the candles inside the lanterns behind the table. Then, pushing books from a worn chair, he gestures for me to sit.
The purple runes on his neck glow, and the flickering light throws shadows across his face, defining his sharp cheekbones further. There's something mesmerising about this elf, which interrupts me questioning his reality. I lower myself into the high-backed chair opposite him and fold my hands into my lap.
"Your stone." He points at the scratched table. "I would like to examine the rune."
A red mark remains on my palm from my tight grip, and I place the stone down as if it were as delicate as an egg. Reuben takes hold and the blue rune glows as soon as his fingers touch.
"Where did you say you found this?"
Can I lie to him? "In a chest."
"You stole it?"
"It's a chest, I'm supposed to loot... " A locked chest. "No." In somebody's house. "Kind of."
"Sometimes you need to be careful what you touch, Eleanor." He holds the stone between a slender finger and thumb. "I have been waiting for somebody to bring me this."
I cross my arms over my chest. If I were on my laptop, I’d click a button to skip all the backstory he’s about to give me, so I can get down to the nitty gritty and begin questing. Here, I can’t and have to listen to every word he says.
“Is this special?”
His eyes widen. “In a way. Something within you activated the rune, which means you have greater power than other apprentices.”
Hell, yes. “More power? Are you going to teach me some new spells?”
"No. You’re a low Mage currently. I've been reading about you, in anticipation of your arrival for training, and there was no mention you may have special talents." He pulls a leather-bound book across the table and flicks onto a page. He smooths the cream paper and taps. "Here. Would you like to read what I have?"
"Yes. Please." The upside-down text appears to be in table form, my name clearly written at the top. Hope surges. My character information? The first step in whatever the hell this puzzle is?
I scan the information as quickly as possible in case Reuben takes the book back. The information matches that contained on my wristband and states I’m from a place named Telver. I catch sight of something written beside my Pyromancer status:
Advanced Skills: Locked
"You have travelled a long way from home," he remarks. "You must be determined to seek me out."
"I admit I'm a little lost. I'm hoping you can show me the way and help me learn some new skills."
He takes the book from me and closes it. "You haven't harnessed the skills you have yet. I cannot teach you any more spells until you have honed those you have already."
"I don't think I make a very good mage. I mean, can I choose to be something else? Maybe a cleric?"
Reuben stares at me as if I've insulted him. "Choose? This is your birthright. You may choose a path to travel, mage, but you are inherently skilled in damaging magic. You cannot heal."
"Okay. But I can learn more than simple fire spells, right? There must be some kind of levelling system."
Again, the curious look. "Levelling? This world does not contain a level field. But yes, you can learn more. Some learn skills through practice and dedication—the skill of an assassin, the committed beliefs of a paladin. Mages in Alaria are not born with the ability to develop their magic skills from learning. Many can't progress beyond the simple set of spells inherited from the families they are born into. Some have the ability to activate latent skills they are unaware of."
"And I can?"
His brow dips. "Has nobody told you about your place in the world?"
"I was kind of... pushed into this. I'm confused."
"Then it is beneficial to us both you've been sent here for my tutorage. Your pyromancy skills will grow with practice and experience, but that's not all you are capable of. I can teach you how to harness the power you clearly hold." He indicates the rune. “You are the first to bring me a rune such as this and that makes you a valuable addition to the magi.”
"When do I access these powers? Soon?"
He smiles. "Each journey you find yourself on, you will come across items of great power. Few can identify or access these hidden objects, and I am interested to see if you can find more."
My band sounds and I glance down, quickly reading the quest text.
Major Quest: Collect the Artefacts of the Council of Elders
The Mage Elders of Alaria once stood beside the King, protecting the Kingdom from an invasion beyond the Fringes. The Mage Elders grew in power over the years, and the King's fear of magic saw him take the Artefacts that granted them powers he didn’t understand. A battle ensued, and the Artefacts became scattered across the world. The Council of Elders and the King no longer work together, both protecting the Kingdom from outside forces in their own way, but with mutual suspicion.
You can choose whether to strengthen your reputation with the Council of Elders by returning the items to the High Mage, or increase your reputation with the Kingdom by destroying the Artefacts.
Reward: Maximum Reputation with The Elders or The Kingdom.
I blink. Is Reuben aware of what I’m reading? He pays no attention to my band, as if he's unable to see the bracelet.
"These powers... will they help me reach the Fringes of Alaria?"
"Yes, but you would be foolish to do so. There is great danger that no adventurer has ever returned from and reported to me. I told you this."
I nod and hold onto my belief that the players never come back because they left the game. He rests back in his seat. "If you bring me some food, I will grant you one more spell to help you progress. After that, you must undertake more dangerous tasks to prove you're strong enough to be taught more."
Food? I squeeze my eyes shut and then open again. What is it about in-game characters wanting food?
My wristband blinks:
Quest: Bring Reuben a meal of Sautéed Boar Hearts
Quest: Collect 10 x boar hearts
Reward: He’ll share his Sautéed Boar Hearts
On eating, your Health and Wisdom increase by 20% for 1 hour.
500 XP
Oh hell, no.
I once spent hours circling around a zone in my game last year, decimating the local boar population in my search for hearts. I seriously must've killed over fifty and found four.
There's also the possibility my solitary fire spell might sauté the organs before they leave the pig.
I grip my backpack, ready to leave. This is unfair. Where’s a proper tutorial and the chance to make choices about my role and way forward? I keep my expectant look on Reuben with the vain hope he has more to say.
"You've travelled far. You may stay in the Academy quarters within this town. Apprentice mages often stay before they move on to new adventures, or..." He pauses and slams the book closed. "Well, let's not worry about that just yet."
Reuben avoids my eyes. He didn't need to say the words: "or they die".
Our meeting ends, and as Reuben leads me along a hallway where identical brown doors line the walls.
“You may stay in the apprentice quarters.”
“Thank you.”
Reuben smiles at my enthusiastic gratitude. “You may have arrived unexpectedly, but you are a mage looking for training, who has travelled far.” He pulls down the handle and pushes the
door open. “Besides, I don’t want the adventurer who brought me the runed stone to disappear.”
I rest on the small cot, crammed into the room against one wall. There’s enough space between the bed and door to place my backpack and tree branch, and a tiny window looking onto the town street. I sink onto the straw-stuffed mattress and scratchy blanket as my exhausting night catches up with me.
I run my fingers around the wristband again. This may as well be manacles, tying me to the game somehow. At my touch, the screen lights up with a repeat of the information Reuben told me. Who updates the book Reuben possesses? My head aches and tiredness sweeps over me. I lie down onto the musty-smelling, lumpy mattress. Following my meeting with Reuben, I’m struggling to separate Eleanor Walker and Eleanor the Mage in my mind.
What if there's a time limit, and as hours pass in game, my past self ticks away too? Or I die and only have three lives?
Or one life. The thought dries my mouth and spikes a new fear. I’m not stuck here permanently, am I? My confused and exhausted brain pulls me into sleep.
Tomorrow, I move on and up. As soon as possible, I leave.
Chapter Nine
Following a fitful night's sleep filled with fogged dreams, I wake and grasp at the thin blanket as I hang onto my fading memories. Who am I? Eleanor: Mage. But somewhere in my mind's recesses I'm Eleanor... something else. Drudge?
My bracelet immediately reminds me of Reuben’s quest and within the hour I'm outside the inn, backpack ready to fill with bloodied boar body parts, and furtively checking passers-by as I seek out Jay, Dean, and Zara.
I kick the dust with my thin shoes, and stare at my wristband's map in the hope it will suddenly illuminate more than the areas I've travelled. If this were real life, I'd be on the internet researching the zones and quests. Figuring out the quickest way to progress through the game to the last boss I need to kill. Without the internet, I'm lost.
"Mornin'!" A cheerful voice pulls me out of my moping, and a thickset man with a bushy beard, big grin, and fishing rod salutes me.
Mage Page 4
