The Crystal Crusade

by Mars Dorian

  The NPC clerk’s delicate eyebrows cocked as her mouth shaped into an O. Even someone from the backroom of the reception looked up at me like I lost my goddamn mind.

  “You’re messing with me, right?”

  I grinned. “Just a little.”

  I had no clue who she was talking about, but judging by her tone, it had to be the leader of the village; maybe even the leader of the resistance. To avoid further embarrassment, I said goodbye and stepped out.

  In the public square that came into view, NPCs in working gear walked around carrying multi-packs and construction tools. In the distance, behind the brick houses and their solar-roofs, I spotted scaffolds. Looked like the village was expanding this very second. I passed the exotic flowerbeds and the statue of a figure I had never seen before: a man in battle gear with his plated legs stretched apart and pointing heroically at the sky. I followed the direction of his finger and lost my eyes in the clouds. Was he pointing toward the stars? A name shield lay embedded between his boots.

  “Do What You Can’t.”

  Simple, but effective. Reminded me of a slogan by a popular sportswear company.

  A red-haired woman with heavy gear and the build of a wrestler walked past me.

  “Excuse me, lady.”

  She turned around and almost hit me with the blanks supported on her shoulder.

  “Do you know where I can find the leader?”

  She laughed, which caused her chest plates to shiver. “Aim high and don’t hit your head up there.”

  She left me standing with a wink. Instead of asking more NPCs, I picked two players I saw walking out some kind of gear shop with a cartoonish hand-drawn sign.

  “Hey, do you guys know where the so-called leader is?”

  Without replying, she pointed past my shoulder, up the steep, rocky way behind the village houses. A path snaked around the mountain and all the way up to an observatory-styled tower. Of course the leader had to live all the way up there.

  “Thanks a bunch.”

  “Do you have the password?”

  “Password?”

  “Yeah, in order to speak to the leader, you need a password to bypass his door.”

  Nothing ever came easy here, not even a simple talk to a game character.

  “Would you mind sharing it?”

  Her silent partner spoke up. “Ours was forty-two, but the password changes all the time. You’ll have to solve the puzzle first.”

  The two turned around with their bodies directed at the exit road toward the mirror defense.

  “By the way, where are you two heading to?”

  “Doing a reconnaissance quest for the Blue Flame.

  “Blue Flame?”

  “The name of the resistance group.”

  “Ah, of course.”

  A mutual nod confirmed we were in the same boat, even though I didn’t know in which direction it steered. The woman looked past my head, which meant she checked out my player level. “You could join, but your level’s a bit too low. Maybe next time.”

  I had no intentions going questing again, at least not before I met this mysterious leader and figured out what he wanted from me.

  “I wish you lots of experience and credits.”

  They waved goodbye and disappeared into the distance. I doubled my speed, caught the attention of a few villagers—or rebels, or whatever they called themselves—and reached the steep, rocky soil interspersed by thin and tall trees. My VR set could only simulate optical and vibrational stimulations, but judging by the bluish tint and the misty atmosphere, the air around here had to be cold and thin. I jumped over rocks, touched the fresh herbs brushing past my boots, and approached a grassy field which separated me from the tower entrance. Thanks to my Machine Spirit and Enemy Mine skills, I spotted dozens of strange, circle-shaped objects underneath the bladed ground. The target pointer flickered in yellow and expressed an ‘unknown’ label. Nevertheless, I maneuvered around the suspicious-looking ground spots and reached the metal-coated door of the tower. A sign said, “Embrace The Unknown”.

  I tried to open the handle but it remained closed. I knocked multiple times until a voice emanated from an opening. “How can I help you, sir?”

  “Umm, it’s me… Dash. I’m supposed to meet the leader of the resistance.”

  “What do you fight for?”

  Tough question. Money was the correct answer, but it sounded wrong and amoral in the game context. I had to say something heroic. Something about good fighting evil.

  “I fight for truth, love, and peace?”

  “Are you telling or asking me?”

  “The truth is I don’t know yet. I’m still on a journey.”

  “Not all those who wander are lost.”

  I’ve heard that one before, although I couldn’t recall the source. It didn’t matter, because the door opened with a clank and welcomed me in.

  45

  Black marble graced the ground. The oval-shaped walls featured wooden shelves filled with hundreds of books, ancient tomes with odd spellings and even weirder symbols. More in-game history, I assumed.

  To my left stood a spiral-shaped stairway that snaked around the interior walls of the tower. My neck craned up high to the ceiling where the spiral steps connect to a platform. A manly voice called out from above.

  “Please come in, friend. Use the stairs if you’re fit to do so.”

  I couldn’t pinpoint the location of the voice, so I carefully walked up the stairs with my gunblade ready on my gear pack.

  The rough voice carried a tinge of lightheartedness, which I welcomed. I stepped up the stairs and bypassed the rows of book shelves. In the highest passage, I entered a dome-shaped attic the size of a studio. A large table with a lamp stood near the wall-sized windows, topped with a mechanical globe and various notes and drawing utensils. The workplace begged to be manned by a creative soul. To the right sat a man with long hair, fumbling with a gigantic telescope poking out the dome-shaped ceiling. The leader stalked the stars. A semi-transparent exclamation mark blinked next to the blue-haired man.

  “Dash, welcome to Cloudkiss Tower.”

  The NPC leader had a scar on his nose and looked to be around his early forties. He wore working gear with a multi-tool belt and various pouches and pockets filled with tools I had no names for. His expression appeared to me to be friendly.

  “As you might have guessed, my name is Balzac.”

  My curiosity trumped my manners. “Are you the leader of the so-called Blue Flame?”

  “Leader, technician, cook, scientist, architect, and eternal star gazer. Labels can be so constrictive, don’t you think?”

  “They do help make sense of the world.”

  Balzac strolled around the attic with his curious eyes locking on mine. “Jill has drooled about your mechanical skill and battle expertise. She claimed she only escaped because of your help.”

  Jill? It took a few seconds to connect that name to an avatar. Jill, the girl NPC who fled Varmegarden with me, Yumi-D, Mort, and Ritter. Gosh, this world inhabited so many players and NPCs, it was hard to keep track of them all. Thank tech my e-scroll database updated every new acquaintance entry.

  “Our teamwork saved us.”

  He paused with a smile. “Fresh off the Academy and already marking your spot on the map. Bravo. This world needs brave men like you.”

  “I just try—”

  “Oh, hold your thought.”

  He tiptoed toward the telescope and shut his left eye. Oohed with the amazement of a child and even giggled. “It’s happening again. Would you like to see?”

  See what? I joined his left side and peeked through the narrow view eye piece. The telescope was pointed toward the Violet Lunar lurking in the sky. Even with the magnification, one could barely recognize the surface of the crimson-colored, crystal forest, overshadowed by the fog of war.

  “As ugly as ever.”

  “Have you seen its tears?”

  “Tears?”

  My
eyes traveled around the view frame and found tiny dots shooting from the moon’s surface. They tore through the atmosphere and glowed with trails like flaming meteors. Crimson rocks ripping through the sky.

  “What the—?”

  “The Violet Lunar is releasing Reepo crystal shards onto Fourlando.”

  Call me paranoid, but I swear I could feel the impact of the shards with a vibration jostling through my gear.

  “I have never seen that before… how often does that happen?”

  “A few times a month. The pattern is irregular, as far as I can tell. I’ve dubbed them blood moon tears because of their color.”

  His slender, right finger pointed toward a wall of shelves filled with exotic objects. One them was a glass box containing a violet crystal shard the size of a football. It was scary and beautiful at the same time.

  “Aren’t you afraid it’s going to contaminate your space?”

  “It’s tightly sealed. I’ve made sure of it.”

  He looked back through the viewfinder with the curiosity of a child. He seemed to treat the situation like a mini-game where he enjoyed every outcome.

  “The Violet Lunar’s shards impact different sections of Fourlando and infest every environment they come in contact with. These corals tear through the ground and grow like a rash, much to the pleasure of the Syndicate.”

  “Because they get to mine it?”

  Balzac nodded with his focus on the viewfinder. The situation stalled, so I had to intervene. “Well, thank you for letting me into your village. I know you have to take a lot of security provisions.”

  “You seem like a good soul, Dash. Troubled and overextended, but also brave and hungry. Once you gain more experience, your path will become more clear.”

  Balzac, the psychological mentor NPC I didn’t ask for. To be honest, I had never met a game character who could read player emotions that well. It felt like he could look beyond my virtual appearance and see my true self, but maybe I was projecting thoughts.

  “Is there something I can do for you, sir?”

  Say quest, please say quest. I needed to level up fast before Mr. Ustinov killed my online connection for good. But the leader of the Blue Flame played by a different script. He averted his eyes from the telescope’s viewfinder and analyzed me. “What’s your stance on the Sunblood Syndicate?”

  Another demanding question. Just like with the outdoor puzzle, Balzac wanted to test my knowledge and allegiance.

  “Based on what I learned at the Academy, the Sunbleeders used to be a small cartel that revolted against the Beltar Empire decades ago. But over the years, they militarized, took control over trade routes, and corrupted townships until their power became so great they toppled the mighty Empire.”

  Right? Wrong?

  Balzac’s neutral expression made it challenging to read his reaction. Or maybe he excelled at hiding his intentions.

  “Mmm,” he simply said. “That seems to be the common history lesson they teach at school. I’ll leave your statement as it is.”

  What the hex was that supposed to mean? The leader ignored my bewilderment and jumped into the next question. “Do you know the goal of the Blue Flame?”

  I didn’t. I thought this group was one of hundred splinter rebels fighting the big ol’ Syndicate ever since the demise of the Empire, but that answer sounded awfully simplistic now.

  “You want to liberate Fourlando from the Sunbleeders?”

  “We want to bring machinery back to the people and kill our dependence on the Reepo. Its crystal infestation has brought nothing but misery to our lands.”

  It also powered up every mechanized weapon, lit up every township, and supported every airship—well, the few that existed. But who was I to argue with my quest giver? Thus, my lips sealed shut.

  Balzac’s hands rested on my shoulder plates. His calm, blue eyes relaxed me. He should have narrated an audio file on meditation.

  “You don’t have enough experience for the grand missions yet, the ones that will define the fate of our lands.”

  My disappointment surged. I feared doing useless quests like solving stupid puzzles or transporting items from A to B. But Balzac’s voice deepened with meaning. “Still, there’s something you could do, something very important which will propel our fight for freedom forward. I have to warn you though, it’s quite challenging.”

  Challenging meant mucho experience points, which equaled mucho leveling up and skill distribution.

  “I’d love to.”

  “Don’t be so hasty, young warrior, hear what I have to say first.”

  I perked my ears expecting a rock-solid quest fighting the Sunbleeders.

  46

  He shifted my attention to a banner-sized e-scroll hanging on his wall. The ink snaked around the rough surface like a viral infection and depicted the world map of Fourlando and its smaller islands surrounding it. Hundreds of townships and villages popped up, including the Academy in the north, Montobay, Varmegarden, and the new capital of the Sunblood Syndicate in the south. Only one place was missing—the Cloudkiss mountain village. Surprise, surprise.

  Balzac positioned himself next to the giant wall map and pointed a stick at the western mountain range of Norsefalia. “This is one of the temple sites that have survived the atrocious war. Pilgrims from across the continent pass townships until they rejoice on the Hope Road leading to the Holiplaze.”

  That was the same path where Yumi-D and I protected the caravan. Funny how all the places were linked together.

  Balzac continued. “Although we’re not a religious group, we foster close bonds with those oppressed by the Syndicate. The local order of the Holiplaze has experienced trouble with a mysterious force invading their temple, and they have asked us for help. Since the Syndicate couldn’t care less, the Blue Flame has offered their assistance.”

  “Tell me what I should do.”

  Quest: “Cloister of Trials.”

  Description: Balzac Spinoza, the leader of the Blue Flame, wants to test your loyalty to the cause. Before you can be deployed for the big operations, you need to fulfill his trial mission. Meet up with the allied pilgrims of the Holiplaze in the Western Norsefalian mountain region.

  Type: Exploration

  Reward: 500 credits, cont. EXP, one mid-rare mechanized weapon, tool or armor set of your choice.

  Do you accept? (Yes/No)

  It sounded like a reasonable quest with low financial reward but decent experience gain. Plus, the chance of receiving a mid-rare mechanized item sparked my interest. I needed way better equipment if I wanted to survive the tougher quests, and since money was going to be an issue, I needed to get mech items through quests like these. So I accepted the offer, which brought a grin to Balzac’s chiseled face.

  “I’m glad you accepted, Dash. Your performance during the mission will determine how, or if, you will serve our movement.”

  He paused, maybe for dramatic effect. “I hate to be so demanding, but we live in tumultuous times. We don’t have the luxury of fooling around when both the Reepo or the Syndicate tries to overtake our land.”

  “No probs. Nietzsche once said what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

  “Who’s Nietzsche?”

  “Some dead dude I used to read in school.”

  His eyes looked confused, so I dropped the reference no NPC would ever understand. “Am I supposed to fulfill this quest, I mean mission, alone?”

  “I believe that would be the best option, unless you feel too inexperienced to manage on your own.”

  “I’ll find a way.”

  “Very well. If you need to restock your gear and health kit, visit the gear shop around the plaza.”

  Good idea. Every quest, even the little ones, had wreaked havoc on my supply. Thankfully, with each new level increase, my inventory size and ability to lift weight would increase, which meant fewer and fewer shopping sprees in the future.

  Balzac remained silent, which I took as a cue for me to leave. �
��And oh, before I forget, the answer to the question is ‘Cloudy, with a chance of a blue rain’.”

  “Which question, sir?”

  “You will find out once you reach the Holiplaze.”

  And with that cryptic statement, Balzac turned around and refocused on his telescope again. I carefully made my way down the spiral stairs, opened the ground door, and sprinted through the steep, grassy field while pondering my recent conversation with the blue leader. What a strange yet interesting NPC. He was by far the most realistic non-player character I’ve talked to in the game so far. Self-reflective, astute, with an incredible eye for reading player avatar mimics. I’ve heard that the game was constantly improving itself, not just in terms of graphics but also through smarter AIs and game mechanics. I wondered how the game would look in a decade, but for now I was jumping too far ahead.

  Back in the village center, I found the gear shop with the hand-drawn sign. A squealing jingle sounded once I passed the door frame. Déjà vu hit me when I saw Moola standing behind her glassy showcase, an eternal shine painted on her freckled face.

  “Hey, I know you.”

  Color me surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  “Visiting the local Wind Rider Festival of course.”

  “The what?”

  Moola spread her palms to draw attention towards her impressive showcase of items. “I’m making a living, dummy. With the Sunbleeders putting Varmegarden on lockdown, business was going down the pipe. Besides, I like the woody air and the fresh winds up here. Let’s hope business is a breeze.”

  She cracked up at her own joke. I was still baffled. “But how did you escape the city?”

  “Trade secret.”

  “Whatever.”

  I stepped toward her showcase and marveled at the items. The standard repertoire of concoctions, anti-Reepo potions, and antidotes were present, but she also offered a variety of mechanized tools I had never seen before.

  “I’ll buy the usual potions and antidotes, plus a new set of low-grade Reepo vaccines. You just never know.”

  Moola nodded. “Potions make the world spin around.”