Have I become the very thing I always rebelled against? My closest friends still live in The Boxes and what have I done to help them? Sure, I won the tournament that helped save Buzz’s mom’s life, but I had a lot of help. What have I done since then? I’ve tucked myself away in a fancy apartment eating the best foods and barely think about them. Why did it take another game for me to realize all of this? I’m ashamed of my selfishness.
“There are,” I say. I make a promise to myself to talk to Benjamin about my friends once I log out. “But we don’t fight them with swords and magic.”
“What do you fight them with then?” she asks.
“Words.” The modern-day weapon of champions. But that is something I will deal with when I’m back. For now, I must focus on the task at hand—helping Carter find magic. If I’m to do that, I need to know a lot more about the world we’re in. Less than two hours out and we’ve already been attacked by bandits. What other obstacles await us? “Exactly how big is the Brotherhood?”
“It’s hard to say,” Kindra replies, her eyes full of rage. “They’ve plagued the kingdom for as long as I can remember. From what I’ve heard, they aren’t as big of a problem near the castle, but every town on the outskirts has dealt with them at some point.”
“Why doesn’t the king send his army to root them out?” I ask.
“Ha!” laughs Carter. “The king has better things to do than worry about the safety of the commoners. What matters to him are the lords who finance the armies and keep the realm protected. A little thievery here and there probably never makes it to his ears. There are even rumors that the Brotherhood works for the king. That he pays them to keep our eyes focused away from the throne. If that’s the truth of it, it’s been working.”
“You think there’s any truth to that?” I ask Kindra.
She rolls her eyes and looks outward. “People like that, they always have something up their sleeves. They don’t get in that position by playing nice.”
“What about Carolton? Is there a lord you report to or anything?”
“Lord Regis, but we only ever hear from him around tax time. Jacob is the one who looks after the town, though. He’s a governor of sorts. I’m not the biggest fan, but Priscilla likes him, and he does the best he can with what he has.”
“And the Brotherhood just come and go freely as they like? No one ever stands up to them?”
“Not until you,” says Carter, his lips in a half-smile. “No, not until us.”
Something in me thinks that Carter has bigger plans for his magic than simply tending crops.
“Let’s hope they stay far away until this quest is over,” I say.
For the next couple of hours, I let my mind wander as I lie down in the bed of the wagon. Birds chirp in nearby trees and a gentle breeze cools my skin. Clouds float by overhead and I imagine them as various creatures from Pangea. A minotaur. A gnome. A wolf.
During the tournament, Pangea was a game of life and death. Every choice I made had the fate of Buzz’s mom entwined with it. Afterward, it was just a game, but this, this feels like the stakes are real again. Just like Carter could never go back to a normal life after learning magic, how can I go back to where games are just entertainment?
We hit a bump and my arm scrapes against the side of the wagon, reigniting the pain in my cut. I hiss at the sting, and both Kindra and Carter stare in my direction. The cut isn’t deep, but it burns like the fires of hell.
Carter asks for Kindra to take the reins and crawls into the back with Florian.
“Let me take a look at that. I’ve had my fair share of injuries on the farm, so I’ve gotten pretty good at patching myself up.”
Florian steps in front of Carter, leaning down and inspecting my arm. Using his leafy hands, he removes a petal from his head and places it in my cut. I cry out as it burns, but then just as fast, the pain is gone.
“Woundwort,” says Carter. “Great for pain and it helps stop bleeding.” He gently rubs the back of Florian’s stem and the small creature leans into his fingertips in ecstasy the same way Fenrir does when I scratch behind his ears. “You know, it was pretty bold what you did back there. Taking the frontline against those bandits without a weapon. I hope some of your bravery rubs off on me.”
“Considering my arm, it probably wasn’t the smartest move. I’ll need to be more careful going forward. We’re a team now. I need to remember that and we can play to everyone’s strengths.”
“I can see the forest!” shouts Kindra.
The road before us disappears into a forest of trees so dark they are almost black. I’ve played enough games to know that something bad is bound to be waiting inside.
“Stop the wagon,” I say.
Kindra pulls hard on the reins and the wagon comes to an abrupt halt. The horses neigh in frustration and dust fills the air like a low hanging cloud.
She eyes me warily. “What the hell was that about?”
“I think it would be smart if we came up with a game-plan before going into the forest. You know, in case something bad happens.”
“I guess that’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” she says.
“It wouldn’t be a quest if we weren’t tested. We’re searching for magic, for crying out loud. Something that could very well change society as you know it. There’s no way they are going to give it up for free.”
“Who?” asks Carter.
The AI is what pops into my mind, but I keep that to myself. “I don’t know, gods, the earth, magic itself. Whatever makes this world go around.”
“Perhaps you are right. So what is your plan?” She crosses her arms in waiting.
“We should all play to our strengths. Are there limits on your mind magic, Kindra? How often you can use it? How many can you attack at once?” I ask.
“I’ve never pushed my magic to its limits. Minor spells, like the ones that disorient or put someone to sleep, I’ve used on two people at a time. They don’t last long, though. Complete body control, like what happened earlier, one person is my limit. But my powers grow the more I use them. Who knows how strong they could be in the future?”
“What happens if you push yourself too hard?”
“I grow weak. Once, I passed out.”
The last thing we need is one of our group passing out in the middle of a fight. It could be devastating.
“And what about you, Carter? I know your power is fading, but do you have a gauge for how much you can use?”
Carter closes his eyes. As if searching inside himself for answers.
“I believe my magic will last me for another day, perhaps more depending on how much I use. My power does not come from within, so it does not replenish in the same way as Kindra’s. Once it is gone, it will be gone forever.”
Which is why we need to get to that mountain before I am pulled from the game.
“Then we should conserve your power if trouble happens. Either me or Kindra will take the initiative. You only come in if we are overwhelmed. I don’t know what we might encounter in this forest, but Priscilla wanted us to go through it, so there must be a reason.”
Kindra shuffles uncomfortably. “I think I might know. There have always been rumors about this forest. That monsters live within its depths. No one has ever found them, so I’ve always thought it a story to frighten unruly children. But maybe…”
“Maybe they are real,” finishes Carter.
I’ve seen a lot of monsters and magical creatures during my time exploring Pangea. They’ve always felt realistic. Here, I can only imagine what they’ll be like.
Carter retakes the reins and we set off toward the forest. The trees that make it up become even darker the closer we come, until we are right at its edge and I can see that each of the leaves that make up the canopy are black. Each leaf looks like the footprint of some reptilian monster, with three prongs extending from the stem. The leaves aren’t dead, just black. I’ve never seen anything like them. Using my analyze skill, I focus on the tree.
Cursed Oak. Tree. The oak was once considered the greatest of all trees. Its hard wood was used for everything from furniture to housing to barrels for wine and whiskey. That is until the dryad Hermia fell in love with one of the most powerful mages, Lorence. Lorence spurned her advances, and Hermia, knowing his love for fine, aged wines, cursed the oak with wood so soft it would always leak. Or so the legend goes…
Talk about a history lesson. I wonder if there is any truth to the story.
“Do either of you believe in dryads?” I ask.
The wagon enters the forest and it’s like we’re suddenly traveling at twilight. Only scant amounts of light break through the trees in ribbons. The undergrowth smells of must and decaying leaves, and the air feels thick against my skin.
“I’ve never seen one or heard of anyone seeing one,” says Carter. “Still, it doesn’t mean they don’t exist. I didn’t believe in magic before yesterday.”
His response makes me think. I remember learning about mythology in school. It was pretty commonly accepted that it was all made up, but what if the stories were real? What if the gods and monsters were real, but disappeared just like magic had here?
Kindra disrupts my wild thoughts. “Perhaps somewhere in the world, they exist. If you can come here from another world, why not things like that?”
It’s not quite the same. I wish I could be open with them. I’ve never been the type to keep secrets, but I know for a fact that this isn’t real. It’s all numbers and commands in a computer, and I was sent here to see how it all works. To what end, I’m not sure.
We travel through the dark forest and it is eerily quiet. No insects, no bird calls, just the mush of the wagon wheels through the soft earth and the occasional crunch in the depths of the woods.
There’s not much to see, so I close my eyes and listen like Benji taught me in the mountain. The sounds amplify. I can hear the soil give way to the wheels and compact. Kindra’s slow and steady breaths. The rustle of Florian’s leaves. A twig crunching.
I open my eyes and a prompt flashes across my vision.
Increased Hearing.
Closing my eyes again, I expand my hearing farther. Leaves rustle against the wind overhead. A bird lands on a branch and just as quickly flies away. Dead leaves crunch in the depths underneath someone’s foot.
We’re being followed.
I open my eyes in a panic and scan our surroundings, but it’s too dark to make out anything in the depths. I tap Carter and Kindra both on the shoulder.
“We’re being followed,” I whisper.
“How do you know?” asks Kindra, her eyes searching the twilight.
“I heard footsteps.”
“I’ll use my mind magic to scan the area. If anyone is out there, I’ll be able to feel the presence of their mind.”
She goes still, placing both hands on her temples as we continue to make our way through the forest. After a minute, her hands fall to her sides.
“No one is there. Your ears must have been playing tricks on you.”
“Uhm,” says Carter. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
About fifty yards ahead, a green-skinned woman blocks our path. Vines wrap down her arms and several branches protrude from her shoulders and back. Moss covers her chest and drapes down her legs like a dress. Her long emerald hair is dotted with crimson flowers and the black leaves of the cursed oak.
Dryad. Ancient Being. Keepers of the forest. These primordial beings are averse to fire, taking double damage. Immune to psychic abilities and take half-damage from psionic attacks.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” says Kindra. “How did I not find her?”
“She’s a dryad. Your mind powers won’t work on her.”
“How do you know?” she asks.
“Just trust me.” It makes sense to me that a magical creature could be immune to such attacks.
A brown stag appears behind the dryad, its long antlers pointed forward menacingly. It paws at the ground before charging at us.
Without thinking, I grab my shortsword and shield and leap from the wagon. The soft earth cushions my landing and I plant my feet in the ground, taking a defensive stance. With my shield pressed forward and my sword pointed down behind me, I brace for the impact of the deer barreling in my direction.
The stag lowers his antlers as it collides with my wooden shield, splintering it down the middle and tossing me to the side like I’m nothing more than a ragdoll. I smash into a tree and the impact knocks the breath out of me. Stars dot my vision. My entire body screams at me to get up, but I’m unable to move. I can hear Kindra and Carter yelling, but all I can do is lie against the cold ground. The moist earth does little to cool the burning my body feels.
I gasp for air, each breath more painful than the last. Never in my life have I felt such pain. My shoulder that held the shield throbs, telling me how stupid I was to try and block a stag that weighs probably three times as much as me. I attempt to stand so that I can help my friends, but my legs buckle and I slump back against the tree trunk that robbed me of my breath only moments before.
Kindra and Carter both stand in the wagon bed as the stag turns and charges again. This time, it collides with the wagon with a sickening thud. The wagon holds, but wood splinters off and rains down. The stag doesn’t give up, though. It lodges it antlers underneath the wagon and begins to jostle it back and forth. Kindra and Carter both drop to their knees and hold on the edge.
My legs finally stop shaking and I am able to stand. My sword is buried in the ground nearby so I grab it and do my best to sneak around behind the stag. My legs are still wobbly, but if I can approach without being seen, I can stab the creature in the neck before anyone else is hurt.
The stag continues to rattle the wagon, its antlers grating against the wood. Kindra makes eye contact with me and shakes her head, telling me to back off. I’m so close that I elect to continue.
Planting its hooves in the ground, the stag pushes, lifting one side of the wagon in the air, and I make my move. Just as I am feet away from plunging my sword into its neck, roots spring from the ground and halt my movement. The roots squeeze tight around my legs, cutting off my circulation. I try to chop at them with my sword, but for every root I cut, two more replace it.
The stag releases the wagon and turns on me. Its eyes glow green. The same green as the dryad. She is controlling it with her mind. It paws at the ground and charges. This time, I have no shield to protect me. I lift my sword, knowing full well I’m about to be in a lot of pain. The stag stops mid-run and falls to the ground.
Atop the wagon, Kindra has her hands pressed to her temples just before she falls down with a gasp. I don’t know how she did it, but she stopped the stag.
A scream lashes out from down the path. The dryad waves her arms furiously in our direction. Florian stands on Carter’s shoulders and waves his leafy arms back at her in response.
“Fire!” I yell to Carter while continuing to cut through the roots strangling my feet, remembering the notes on the dryad when I analyzed her. “Fire deals double damage to dryads!”
He takes the reins in his hands and snaps them hard. The horses bolt toward the dryad and just as quickly come to a stop, throwing Carter and Florian from the wagon. Vines crawl out from the woods, intertwining with the wooden spokes of the wheels and bringing the wagon to a halt. Carter lands on the ground with a groan. The dryad motions with her hands and the vines clench harder, cracking the spokes of the wooden wheels. If we make it through this, the wagon is finished.
Vines circle around Carter, but keep their distance. It’s then that I notice a fireball cupped in each hand.
“You picked the wrong day,” I hear him say.
The dryad snarls.
“Long before the mages, humans rooted us out. It is now our turn to retake what is ours,” says the dryad. Her voice is charming, full of life, but also bitterness.
“And what is that?” he asks.
“Everything.
”
Suddenly, a tree sprouts up through the wagon, splitting it in half. The tree rises through the air, its trunk widening as limbs and branches shoot off into the canopy. Kindra’s body is tossed to the ground, quickly covered by vines.
“No!” screams Carter. The flames in his hands grow and the dryad steps back, her eyes wide.
Carter walks toward her with purpose, his flames growing with each step. The vines retreat at his march, and even the trees seem to lean away. The air shimmers around him, heat distorting the world.
“Go back to wherever it is you came from!” he yells, tossing a fireball at the dryad. It ignites her like kindling. Her anguished cries sound above the crackle of the fire and the roots that hold me in place instantly wither.
The dryad stumbles back and forth for a moment, screams of agony echoing off the trees before she falls to the ground.
I rush to Kindra’s side, who is just opening her eyes, and check her over. The vines don’t seem to have broken skin.
“What the hell just happened?” she asks, looking around at the mayhem.
“We just battled a magical creature.” It looks like the AI isn’t wasting any time on shaking things up. “And I think we won.”
When Carter joins us, the yellow part of his health bar is almost completely gone. Florian walks along the ground next to him. Carter picks up one of the swords that were tossed from the wagon when the tree sprouted.
“How are you feeling, girl?” Kindra gives him a weak smile. He feels the weight of the sword in his hand. “Guess it’s time I get better with this thing.”
Chapter Eleven
We continue the rest of our journey through the forest on foot. Shadows move in the twilight, but whatever hides in them, they leave us be. For now, at least. No doubt they witnessed our battle with the dryad and are wary to test us. I prefer to keep it that way. Carter played the part of the seasoned mage well, but his magic is nearly gone.
This is especially troublesome considering how much farther we still have to go.
“No one has ever talked about seeing magical creatures?” I ask.
Pangea Online: The Complete Trilogy Page 32
