The Slayer

by Darren Hultberg Jr

  I shrugged, then took a seat on the floor of the cell.

  “Anyways, don’t get comfortable.” The guard spat in an arrogant tone before signaling another pair of guardsmen into the room. “You’ve got an appointment… with the lord himself.”

  “Good.” I muttered under my breath. That man had taken everything from me… my life as Adam… Hilda… my familiars. A meeting with him was just what I needed…

  And the opportunity to shove a dagger through his eye.

  42

  The door to my cell creaked open as a trio of guards marched in. Armed with spears, each of them squeezed on the shaft of their weapons, white knuckled and tense as they approached…. Were they afraid of me?

  Ironic, these men were concerned I would try to escape. If only they knew they’d be taking me exactly where I needed to go.

  A forth guard dressed in cloth armor cautiously approached at my side. He wasn’t a typical warrior type… no, this guard was a runecaster.

  “Bind him.” The lead guardsman instructed. Hesitantly, the runecaster scribed a rune of binding and activated it on my chest, sealing off my mana and abilities for a short duration. I stood there expressionless the entire time.

  “Alright, Darkblade.” The lead guard said, grabbing hold of my shoulder. “Time to meet your maker.” With a swift yank the troupe of guards pulled me out of the cell and began leading me down the dark corridor ahead.

  ><><

  Several moments passed as the men led me out of Airrigar’s small prison unit and into a large stronghold on the outskirts of the city… the Crimson Keep, Vazryn’s temporary quarters.

  Twice, the men had to stop and re-apply my binding, though each time I remained non-combative, eyes fixated on the tower ahead. They led me through the entrance of the keep where a pair of cinderguards took over, escorting me over to the structure’s central lift. A soft Aether glow illuminated around the edge of the platform as the lift began to ascend, propelling us past levels 3 separate floors littered with guards, scribes, and other servants working diligently for their lord.

  Finally, the platform came to a stop near the very top of the Keep, settling into a groove in the floor just in front of a large, ornamental steel door.

  One of the cinderguard nudged me forward as the thick door slowly began to open… This was it. I forced my nerves back into the pit of my stomach, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

  ><><

  The large, circular chamber was lavish, decorated in furniture made of finished darkwood. Over the windows hung silky drapes of scarlet and gold, on the wall hung painted depictions of Aetheria’s many gods.

  Only 3 other men stood in the massive room… another pair of cinderguards, and him.

  Standing there in his jet-black garb and crimson cloak, Vazryn held a ring-adorned hand to his chin, eyeing me with a pensive look. Several strands of gold sat nestled in his curly black hair, giving the man an almost artificial shimmer.

  None of that mattered right now.

  Beyond the man’s intrusive gaze floated a small indicator filled with a shocking bit of information.

  Vazryn

  Lvl 1 Highlord

  Vazryn, lord of Aetheria, was a mere level 1?! How was that even possible? And his class was one I didn’t recognize, one not offered at the start of the game…. Highlord. Something definitely wasn’t at it seemed….

  “Welcome, Zander Darkblade, to my humble abode.” Vazryn greeted. “I hope your incarceration wasn’t too unpleasant. You must understand that-“

  “Why the hell did you lock me up?” I interjected. Something about that man’s pompous, arrogant tone was already wearing on me. Damnit, I had to focus… had to keep my cool.

  “Because,” Vazryn responded calmly, “you interrupted a sanctioned tournament in the arena city…”. A knowing grin stretched across his face. “And of course, because your quite valuable, champion.”

  “Champion?” I said, more confused than ever. “What’re you talking about?”

  Vazryn strolled over to one of the large tables made of darkwood, then promptly grabbed a crystalline glass of odd colored wine and sipped. He then took a prolonged breath and continued. “Yes, Zander. You see, the entire reason I organized this tournament was to find champions… fighters with the strength and conviction to defend this world with everything they have. I saw that in you, Zander Darkblade, when you leapt into the arena and faced down that wretched duelist… such passion, such vigor! It was quite a sight to behold.”

  “You should’ve stopped that madness.” I grunted, fists balled at my sides. “People died out there… For nothing!”

  Vazryn’s expression changed to one that seemed to reflect the slightest bit of remorse. “It is… not the way I intended for things to go. I planned on watching you all grow and flourish as you discovered this… this wondrous world. But the restoration of Aetheria has once again gained the attention of a scourge that had plagued this realm once before… the worldbreakers.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I spat. It was infuriating, talking to the man as if he was some sort of scripted NPC. “You trapped us in this death game, then encourage us to murder each other for your enjoyment. You’re sick!” I unclenched my fist and opened my palm, preparing to forge nevermore from shadow. The cinderguard, eyeing my change in posture, began to ready their blades. Vazryn, however, continued to speak.

  “And therein lies the issue.” He said, taking another gradual sip of his wine. “You still believe that this is just a game.”

  “I logged in with my soulink, didn’t I?” I answered. Damn this man for talking in riddles.

  He nodded. “Perhaps an explanation is an order…. But first, would you care for a drink?” He motioned to a second crystalline glass resting on the table. I hesitated, then shook my head in defiance and folded my arms across my chest.

  “Very well.” Vazryn said. “Now where should I begin?” He placed a hand on his chin and pondered for a second. “I suppose this all starts a few years ago, during the onset of the Third World War. You see, on earth I was Corbin Castermire, board member of the Axion Corporation and lead developer of the soulink headset that you placed on your head so many days ago. The soulink was my greatest creation… a device that would allow the user to transport there subconscious to another place, a device that would expand the limitations of the human mind! I created it with the intentio to offer an escape from reality, an opportunity to leave the troubles of our world behind, if only for a bit. Unfortunately, the military saw the device in a different light… and immediately began devising ways to weaponize it.” A visible look of frustration began to form on the Highlord’s face. “They sought to use my invention as a tool of destruction… they wanted to put the subconscious minds of their soldiers into machines… to turn them into weapons of mass destruction that could be rebuilt over and over. An undying army… It was disgusting.” Distracted, Vazryn began to pace the room, slowly putting space between him and his guard. “They tried to force me to hand over the technology, but I refused…. Strangely, the military still announced a partnership with Axion Corporation to the public, though no such thing existed. And a few weeks later…”

  “The facilities were bombed.” I said, finishing his thought. It was a huge story on the news… targeted bombings of a tech company turned weapons dealer. This wasn’t quite the same story Wesley had given us… nevertheless, I let the Highlord continue.

  “You are correct.” Vazryn said, his expression solemn. “One of the facilities that was destroyed… it, it housed my family. They were incinerated….” He approached the window, peering out into the darkening sky. “They had taken everything from me. I had nothing left… One night, I decided that I would take my own life with the very creation I worked so hard to forge. I strapped on a prototype version of the soulink, an untested model capable of pushing the human subconscious beyond measure. I intended for my mind to drift into the vast emptiness of the void until eventually my body would die of
f…. A peaceful death. And my subconscious did float on for some time… but the void is not so empty.”

  I took a step towards the man, listening intently as he spoke. “Eventually my subconscious stumbled upon a barren world, a gray husk clinging to its last inklings of life. The world had been ravaged, it’s gods killed, and its core energy drained. That world… was Aetheria.”

  I gave Vazryn an incredulous stare. “Are you saying that-“

  “I’m saying that this world that you’ve found yourself trapped on is real! Just as real as the earth you left behind! I could feel something on this barren husk calling to me… reaching out. It was the Aether, the very lifeblood of this realm. You see, the Aether fed off of the creatures that inhabited this planet, taking a small bit of life force from each creature and giving it back to the planet… in a sense fueling it. In return, the Aether manifested itself in the form of sprites, granting the inhabitants powers they would not otherwise possess… like a sort of symbiosis. Unfortunately, the Aether had become dependent on the god creatures that ruled over this world. When they were slain, the Aether weakened and the world itself began to die.”

  “And so, you intended to be its savior?”

  Vazryn nodded. “In a sense. You see, the Aether fed off my tiny bit of lifeforce, and in return it gave me the power to return to my body... and the knowledge needed to find Aetheria once more. I returned home and began work on a new model of soulink headsets. These soulinks, infused with a sliver of Aetheria’s world energy, would act as gateways to the world… a mass transit to the once dying planet”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Your telling me that this world… this game world is real… that when I logged on to my soulink, my mind was transported here?”

  Vazryn nodded. “Not just your mind… but your soul, your lifeforce. You see, they’re all quite closely connected and-”

  “Unbelievable!” I said, throwing my hands in the air. “Your trying to tell me that you’ve sent me to another world… that just doesn’t make any sense! What about the health bar floating in my vision, or the skills I can do on command, or the goddamned NPC’s roaming around?!”

  Vazryn took one last sip of his wine, finishing off the glass. “As I’ve said… it is the Aether. The mass arrival of so much lifeforce has, quite literally, jump started the planet. These NPCs you speak of are a direct result of that… creatures reborn, given life by the planet’s growing power. At first, they were unintelligible and single minded, similar to the mind of a scripted game character. But you’ll notice that these creatures grow in intelligence and sophistication with each passing day. Your status screens, however, are more of a side effect from the soulink, a small bit of game programming that melded with your subconscious during the immense stress you suffered on the journey over. And the skills, well those are of a combination of the two… memories of warriors past that became infused in the Aether, then made manifest and converted into data to be processed by the soulink.”

  Damnit this man had an answer for everything… but could I believe any of it? Another world… it seemed surreal. Still, all this talking seemed to distract him from the situation at hand. His guards had begun to relax as he paced around the room… he was growing vulnerable.

  “I still don’t understand why you have need of champions.”

  “Must I repeat myself, boy.” Vazryn said, annoyed. “I brought you all here to give you a chance at making a world greater than your own… where strength would go to those who deserved it, not backstabbing bureaucrats… and I’m quite close to realizing that goal, though that may not come to pass. The original terrors of this world, the worldbreakers, have caught wind of the realm’s rejuvenation. They are returning, and they want the power that the Aether holds, a power that I saw start to blossom in you. You are one of the first to begin to tap in to the Aether’s potential, though you have just begun to scrape the surface. Still, it’s a start… the start of a force powerful enough to repel the worldbreakers.”

  What I did to Arden was scraping the surface? It made me wonder about the true limits of my potential. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be sticking around long enough to find out. “What if I don’t want to be your champion. What if I just want to go home, back to my normal body and my normal life.”

  Vazryn shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. The only person to ever return from Aetheria and live would be me, and that was due to a gift from the world itself. I wasn’t able to develop the technology required to return you to your original form… I’m afraid your body is quite dead.”

  The words hit me like a massive blow to the stomach. Arden had spoken much of the same in his babbling…. but it just couldn’t be. I had returned once to my body, if only briefly. I had seen my father! It couldn’t be true!

  “I’m quite sorry, Zander Darkblade, but this is your life now… and I’m offering you the chance to be better than you ever could before.” He offered his hand to me. “Become one of my champions.”

  I looked down at the ringed finger wavering before me. This man… this maniac had taken my old life away from me… he was the reason my father was drowning alone in his own sorrows… the reason Hilda bled out on the arena floor surrounded by strangers. My hand was the last thing I would be giving this man.

  I opened my palm and extended it towards Vazryn in a feigned show of trust. Then, at the last second, I struck!

  I forged nevermore from shadow and swung my blade at the Highlord, aiming for his pale, delicate neck. Thankfully my binding seal had worn off during Vazryn’s long-winded discussion and I had regenerated plenty of mana to spare. The Highlord’s eyes went wide as the blade came crashing in. This was it… I would cut him down and earn my revenge. The cinderguard would likely descend on me and melt me with their blades, but at least I would give the others a chance to return home. Damnit, I had bet so much on what Wesley had told me. He better have had been telling the truth….

  My blade stopped just inches from Vazryn’s neck as a long, serpentine tail wrapped around my wrist. From behind the Highlord slithered a long, snakelike creature with a draconian maw and translucent wings that stretched from its neck. The creature must’ve concealed itself behind Vazryn somehow, though I don’t know how that was possible… it had to have been nearly 7 feet long! The beast met my gaze as it forced my arm down to my side.

  Aerodonulaus

  Ancient Sprite (bonded)

  An ancient sprite? Vazryn held command over an ancient sprite and I didn’t even have one of my own with me any longer? Damnit all, this wasn’t good.

  “I see you’ve declined my offer.” Vazryn said, calmly circling my location as the beast held me firmly in place by the arm. “Very well… there will be plenty of other suitable candidates willing to champion my cause. I mistakenly thought that you were special.” He walked over to the entrance of the room and paused near the thick, ornamental door. “You know what, perhaps you are special… you can help me test something. You see, a small percentage of the people transported to this world went mad due to the stress on their subconscious… the madness as its come to be known by. Normally society would cast these types of people out, but I for one see a proper use for them.” Slowly the door began to creak open, revealing a tall figure looming in the doorway. “Being of a lordly class grants me the power of command over a variety of lesser beings. Let us see if it works on the mad.” He lifted a fist into the air and activated a skill…

  Highlord’s Command

  The man in the doorway stepped into the room, his eyes hollow and black. He wore thick, red plate mail that was covered in assortment of sharpened spikes. Protruding from his wrists were a pair of twin blades… weapons that seemed to have been implanted into the skin itself. I looked into the man’s eyes as a feeling of absolute horror encapsulated me.

  “Kill him.” Vazryn muttered as an insignia on his hand began to glow. The mad man grunted and hoisted his bladed arms into the air, preparing to come strike me down. My heart sank as he took a s
tep forward. I had pulled up an inspection of the brute, but I just couldn’t bare to read the name. Sweat began to build on my brow as my eyes slowly absorbed each and every letter.

  Maximus

  Lvl 25 Guardian

  Affliction: The madness

  Oh god… oh god, no.

  43

  Max took another step in my direction, his hollow eyes staring right through me, as if I were just another obstacle in his path of destruction.

  “M- Max?” I sputtered, trying to get some sort of reaction from my longtime friend.

  Another step forward.

  “Max… it’s Adam. You in there, buddy?”

  Another step. He was getting dangerously close now.

  “Damnit, Max! It’s me!”

  Max lumbered forward and swung one of his grafted blades in my direction, his face expressionless and his movements stiff. I rolled away just as the blade struck the floor, slicing through the fine red rug beneath me. He immediately rose in pursuit, swinging his other blade with brutal force. The weapon swept through the air in front of me, grazing my arm as I leaned away, leaving quite the sizable gash. Blood began to run down my arm, dripping off the tips of my fingers and onto the floor. Damnit, this was not good.

  “You recognize this boy?” Vazryn asked with feigned sympathy. “Why, you were lucky enough to avoid the memory loss, only to find that your friend is quite mad? That’s actually quite tragic.”

  Damn him! It was all that I could think as I ducked and dodged Max’s labored strikes. It was evident that Max wasn’t fully in control. His movements were too slow, too predictable. Perhaps Vazryn’s control wasn’t as absolute as the Highlord let on. Perhaps I could still get through to him…