Shit.
“I don’t think that is such a good idea. He’s not feeling very well. It’s best if he keeps his eyes shaded,” I argue. If Carter removes his hood, then the game is up. Every soldier in Carolton will be here to lock us away. Or worse.
“I said remove the hood.” He raises his voice and a few townspeople turn to look.
The other soldier reaches for the blowhorn hanging from his neck, intent on setting the alarm. It’s inches from his lips and I’m about to turn and run when both men go slack. Their heads go limp, falling forward like they went to sleep, and they drop their spears.
“Don’t just stand there. Get a move on,” says Kindra. She stands behind Carter, a pack slung over her shoulder and one hand extended towards the two guards. “There’s not as much going on in this town as people like to think. I’m ready for some real adventure.”
She guides the stumbling bodies of both men to the side of the gate, propping their spears in the corner. We sneak through, closing the gate behind us. We’re lucky she showed up when she did. If not, I’d probably be in the dungeon right now.
“Thanks for your help,” I say.
“Let’s get a move on,” she replies, ignoring what I said. Kindra has a pack of supplies over her shoulder. She is dressed for a journey and wears a gray tunic with khaki pants and has her long brown hair pulled up into a messy bun. A long knife is strapped to her belt, but she carries no other weapons. Now that I think about it, we didn’t pack any weapons either. Not that Kindra needs them with her mind magic. I wonder how often she can use it? If there are things like mana caps or energy limits that effect how much someone can use magic? I would ask, but her face is set in a permanent scowl and she’s not the most approachable human I have ever met.
She reminds me a lot of Grayson, actually. Distant and cold. I bet she’s stubborn as hell too. Which reminds me, it’s been a while since I’ve checked in on Grayson. I need to see how he is doing next time I log out. We’ve only spoken a handful of times since the tournament ended. Buzz fills me in on the details whenever we hang out, since they both still work in the mines together. It makes me feel bad knowing that I’m testing out this groundbreaking technology and they are still spending eight hours a day working in a digital mineshaft. Life is unfair in so many ways.
Have I become so distant that I no longer remember what life was like in The Boxes? With as much money as Pangea makes, there has to be better ways to help the poor than hiding them away in the slums. Deep down, I know it is all for their public image. They don’t really care about the lives of those in The Boxes. With no real source of income other than what Pangea provides, no one has ever had the chance to better their lives. Not until I came along and got lucky. Luck, it seems, is even harder to come by when you’re poor.
“Hey, snap out of it,” says Kindra. “Are we going or not?”
I push my thoughts of The Boxes away and focus on the task at hand.
“Yeah, let’s go.” I look at the map Priscilla drew for us. There is a circle where the town is. A river runs across the map a little ways out, and far against the edge is a mountain with an X on it. There is a forest and a field, with a small mark indicated in the center of the field. She was very secretive about it, but insisted we should stop by on our journey. It’s not the most detailed map, but it looks like it is drawn to scale so it shouldn’t be too difficult finding our way if we stick to the markers. “It looks like we should head that way.” I point to a distant mountain.
“How are you feeling?” I ask Carter. The yellow portion of his health bar has grown smaller. I can only assume that it is the amount of whatever magical energy he still has in his body from Priscilla.
“I feel fine. The energy within me is fading. Not terribly fast, but I can feel a difference.” He sits his pack on the ground and opens the drawstring at the top. “Can you two keep a secret?” he asks.
We both nod and he reaches in his pack, pulling out the Crawling Woundwort from Priscilla’s. The creature’s root-like legs move swiftly along the ground and its purple flowers sway in the breeze.
“I brought us a traveling companion.” Carter smiles like a child on Christmas as the small plant, no more than a foot tall, scuttles along the dirt road. It zooms back and forth before coming to a stop behind Carter’s legs.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” says Kindra, stone-faced.
“He wanted to come. Besides, look how cute he is.” Carter bends down to one knee and the woundwort crawls into his arms.
“Does he have a name?” I ask.
“Florian. It means flower. I think it suits him just fine.”
“Well, Florian, are you ready for an adventure?” I ask.
In response, the tiny plant creature leaps from Carter’s arms and flutters like a leaf to the earth. Several purple flower petals detach and soar through the air behind him. A fragrant aroma fills the air. When he touches down, Florian takes the lead, turning his flower petal head back every so often to make sure we are keeping up.
We walk in silence along the dirt road for what feels like hours. Kindra keeps to her boorish ways, and I can tell Carter is deep inside his own head. The only real company I have at the moment is a walking plant with more personality than the both of them combined.
As if sensing my internal monologue, Kindra falls in step with me.
“Do you worry about being pulled back to your world before your quest is over?”
I hadn’t thought about that. I have no idea how long Benjamin plans to leave me in here. Certainly not longer than would be safe. Aleesia wouldn’t consent to that. They said their initial timeframes were cautious. That the body could handle way more than they had planned in the alpha testing. I remember looking at the schedule, and the goal we were planning to work up to was six hours of immersion. Would they leave me in here for six hours? That’s almost eighteen hours of game time with time compression. I really wish we had discussed the details before sending me in, but Benjamin was in such haste to test out what the AI had created. It was either log in or miss out entirely.
I hope you are liking what you see, Benjamin.
“It’s a possibility,” I say honestly.
“What’s it like where you are from? Is there magic there too?” For once, her annoyed features are replaced by something else. Curiosity.
I’m not sure how much I should tell her. Would any of it come back into play with the AI?
“It’s different. We are more advanced in a way. In other ways…not so much. And yeah, we have magic, but it’s a different kind of magic. Magic created by men.”
“I’ve always known there was more than this small town. More than this kingdom, even. But now to know that there are other worlds, I’d very much like to see one someday.”
Too bad you’ll never have the chance is what I want to tell her, but instead I say, “Maybe you will.”
A smile flits across her lips and she seems to have a little more pep in her step than normal. She outpaces me, joining Florian on the road ahead as he leads the way.
“She’s a nice girl,” says Carter. “Tough, yes, but nice.”
“I don’t doubt,” I say with a laugh. “You never told me, do you have family at your farm? Is there anyone waiting on you?”
“Not anymore. My parents passed several years ago and as much as they tried, I was the only child. Only my animals wait for me. I have a donkey, a cow, chickens, and several sheep. There’s an old farm dog to help scare away the foxes, too. No one will miss me. The crops might overgrow and the weeds may come in, but they can fend for themselves for a while. It’s not everyday someone like me gets offered a quest to learn magic.”
“I’m awfully sorry, Carter. If not for me, then you never would have gotten hurt in the first place. You’d be nice and safe working in your field.”
“Don’t apologize.” His face is serious. “This is possibly the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I feel like for once, I might be important.”
We
stop for lunch in a clearing and fill our bellies with biscuits and smoked ham. The buttery glaze on the biscuits sticks to my lips and the succulent, smoky ham actually makes me feel full. It’s better than anything I ever ate in The Boxes. I can even feel the cool water from the canteen as it flows down my throat. Once this technology is approved, I can imagine a whole group of people who only log in to taste different foods without gaining weight.
Florian rests on Carter’s shoulder, basking in the warm daylight of the afternoon sun. After we have all eaten, we load up our packs and hit the road again. When I focus on the map in my vision and it opens, our location shows that we have covered about half the distance to the forest Priscilla marked. Based on our current walking speed, it will take more than a day to reach the mountain. What that means for my immersion, I can’t begin to guess.
“Have you been to the mountain we are going to, Kindra?” I ask.
She nods. “Once, but I was very young.”
“What awaits us when we arrive?” asks Carter.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. They say it is different for everyone.”
“And what about when you went, do you remember what it was like?”
“Like I said, I was very young.”
Kindra speeds up, leaving Carter and I to take the rear. I’m certain that she wasn’t too young to remember, but what happened that she doesn’t want to talk about?
A wagon approaches from ahead and we all step off the road to let it pass. Three men wearing black tunics and hoods that cover all but their eyes sit inside. Something is not right. The only people who cover their faces in the mid-day heat are those with something to hide. Carter pulls his own hood up at their approach, concealing his eyes.
The wagon slows as it passes, and I make eye contact with one of the men. Recognition dawns on his face and he whispers to the man driving the wagon. It comes to a halt and all three jump to the ground.
Health bars flash over each of the men with the word ‘Bandit’ in red letters. Red must mean they are enemies, not that I couldn’t have figured that out by myself.
“Stand behind me,” I tell Carter and Kindra. I realize how stupid that sounds considering I am the only one with no magic or weapons, but nevertheless, they fall in behind me.
The three bandits step forward with confidence. They are used to taking what they want. The bandit who recognized me was part of the group we fought yesterday. These must be his reinforcements, because they are better equipped than the bandits yesterday.
“I remember you,” says the one. “You and your stupid friend tried to take us unaware yesterday. Got several of my men hurt. Well, let’s see how well you handle us face to face. No one stands against the Brotherhood.” He unsheathes his sword and his two partners do the same.
“Ha! Took you unaware? Is that what you tell everyone? Or is it just too embarrassing to admit that you and your men were overtaken by a guy with a frying pan?”
He’s mad, which is what I wanted. Anger makes people less focused, and I hope to use that to my advantage. The first bandit lunges at me, his sword aiming for my shoulder. I lean to the side, dodging the attack, and he slashes at air.
Increased Dodge Chance.
“Not much has changed it seems,” I continue to taunt him and he slashes again, this time more wildly. The blade cuts through the air, missing my nose by inches. My dodge chance increases again.
I don’t really have a plan other than to hope for an opening to disarm him.
He lunges again, this time swiping back and forth. I dodge the first swing but the second grazes my arm. I let out a yell as white-hot pain surges through the spot where he cut me. Blood seeps from the wound. I’ve never felt something so painful inside of a game. The cut continues to throb as blood flows down my arm, doing a great job of distracting me from the problem at hand.
“Enough of this,” says the second bandit. He is the biggest of the three and the one who was driving. He must be the leader. He holds two swords and when he crosses them together, the cling of metal cuts through the air. Pushing the first bandit to the side, he takes the lead. “You decided to fight the Brotherhood. For that, we are going to kill you, and then we are going to take everything you own. Surrender now and I’ll make your death clean.”
“I think you have it backwards,” says Carter. He removes his hood, letting his eyes shine in all their glory. The audible gasp from the three bandits doesn’t go unnoticed. “There might have been a time when I would have backed down and let you have your way, but no longer. I’ll give you the chance to leave your weapons, take your wagon, and go. Do so and no one has to get hurt.”
“You think you can intimidate the Brotherhood?” the leader asks, pointing one of his swords at Carter, but his voice isn’t as authoritative as before. “Kill them.”
The other two bandits rush forward, swords raised in attack. I’m no longer standing in front but have fallen back between Kindra and Carter.
Kindra, who has not spoken a word since the wagon stopped, raises her hand and one of the bandits freezes in place. His eyes continue to move furiously, though his body remains motionless.
Carter grunts beside me, then a fireball explodes from his palms. He launches it at the other bandit. The fireball flies forward, its heat distorting the air around it, and collides with the man’s chest. Flames engulf him, and he falls to the ground screaming in agony.
The leader watches, awestruck. His eyes so wide that it’s almost comical.
Tears flow from the eyes of the first bandit as his arms move against his will, turning his blade in on his body. He wants to scream and beg for his life, I can see it in his eyes, but he has no control. The blade slowly inches closer and closer until it cuts through the fabric of his tunic. When it pierces his skin, there is no shout of pain, only the sickening rip of flesh parting and the trickle of blood down his stomach. His eyes tell the story his mouth cannot. Once the sword is buried to the hilt and pokes through his back, the spell is done and the bandit falls to the ground.
“What is this sorcery?” shouts the leader. “B—black magic, I tell you!” He turns to run.
“Enough!” commands Kindra, silencing the man. A flick of her wrist and the man goes limp. “Here is what happened: Your wagon broke down on the journey and you were attacked by a bear. Two of your men perished in the fight and you were lucky to make it out alive. That is all.”
A stupid smile replaces the terror on the man’s face. “That is all,” he repeats.
“Now drop your weapon and walk to Carolton,” Kindra orders.
“Why say the wagon broke down?” I ask.
“Because if we are to make it to the mountain before you return to your homeland, we will need a faster way to get there. Now take their weapons, hide the bodies, and let’s get on with it. Carter, I’m assuming you can drive?”
He nods while pulling one of the bodies behind a bush. We strip them of their armor and weapons. I take a shortsword and pants from the bandit who stabbed himself and the tunic from the burn victim. They fit better than my tattered clothes from the scarecrow. Once I am dressed, I notice a new icon has appeared in my vision.
Inventory. Max capacity, 150 pounds. Current capacity, 25 lbs.
I focus on it and my new items are visible in tiny squares. There appears to be no limit on the number of items I can carry aside from my own strength.
Item: Singed Black Tunic.
Item: Black pants.
Item: Bronze shortsword.
I also have the satchel and all of its contents visible as well.
Once the bodies are hidden, we all climb in the wagon. Three shields along with rations and a large jug of water sit inside. I take the wooden shield and add it to my inventory as well. Unlike most games, where the items in the inventory disappear when not in use, it looks like I will have to carry everything on my person if I want to have access to it. If I want to equip a two-hundred-pound shield, then I’ll need to be able to hold two hundred pounds to use it. The woo
den shield weighs in at twenty pounds, bringing my total item weight up to forty-five pounds.
Kindra and I settle in the back while Carter and Florian drive the carriage. The wooden frame is bumpy and uncomfortable, but at least we are making better time.
She stares into the distance, her mind elsewhere. I look forward, toward the far-off mountain where magic and who knows what else awaits.
Chapter Ten
“I’ve never killed anyone before.” Carter lifts his hood and runs his hands through his shaggy brown hair. The wagon bumps along the dirt road, jostling Kindra and I in the back.
“Well, you have now,” Kindra says matter-of-factly. Several strands of brown hair escape her messy bun and blow in the wind. She’s sullen. I wonder if she has ever killed before. The way she took her time, slowly inserting the sword through the bandit’s stomach, makes me think she has.
“It’s not like we had a choice,” I say. “They would have gladly killed us if we hadn’t fought back. People like that, you have to stand and fight or they will never leave you alone.”
He just nods and goes back to driving the wagon. Whatever he is going through, my words aren’t going to change that. I just hope he can see it for what it is. Florian sits in his lap like a newborn child. Those two have developed quite the connection in such a short time.
“In your world, are there people like the Brotherhood?” Kindra picks at the frays of her gray tunic while waiting for me to respond.
I think about it before answering. Before I started working for Pangea Online Entertainment, I thought the developers were the bad guys. A greedy corporation that kept those in The Boxes locked away, content that meeting their basic needs for survival and offering the most crude level of entertainment Pangea Online had to offer was enough so that they didn’t have to think about them.
Pangea Online: The Complete Trilogy Page 31
