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by Stephan Morse


  Her advice was good. None of it was new to me, but there was a vast difference between reading some words and living them.

  “Tink!” Elane shouted. “They spotted us!”

  “On my way!” She was still looking at me with an unblinking gaze. That smile was too much. She was too nice, her and those deep green eyes. “Hermes, do what you need to. No one has any right to think less of you. Not everyone is a fighter.”

  TinkerHell dashed off. Her robes fluttered as her feet clicked along the ground. Dusk was caught up in the chase and followed her around the corner toward adventure.

  Her words sent my mind reeling. William was a fighter. I wanted to be. I should be. I was also the man who had twice given up on life. Had this unreasonable fear of life started with Xin’s passing? The false happiness for customers? Working myself into a coma? Falling out of contact with friends?

  Maybe.

  I was better now. There was a certificate in my house to prove it.

  Childhood had raised me on tales of heroism and televised greatness. Each moment in Continue was a chance to be my own hero. Sitting here tearing myself apart with questions of character was squandering those opportunities.

  Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken.” “Invictus.” Roosevelt’s speech of “The Man in the Arena.” Carver had been alive. Even in those last moments, he had been struggling to overcome the odds. Maybe diving in without thought was impossible. Maybe I would always hesitate. I was no William Carver. But I wanted to be.

  I wanted to be.

  Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both. Down one path led the coward’s route. Continue had presented me such feedback already. Alternatively, I could try to be like William. To be a man who would fight to live with every breath, even here in the digital world.

  Sounds of battle echoed down the cavern. Edward was giving his blow-by-blow and status updates. Screams of “critical strike” and “dodge” accompanied Elane’s resounding smash of metal against objects. Under it all was Tink’s chanting.

  I stood. One hand shook uncontrollably. In the other was a long blade that felt amazingly light. That hand did not shake. It sat there calmly, sword digging into the ground much as Carver’s cane might. There was comforting warmth in the hilt.

  This time, if I swung this sword, it would be deliberate and as myself. With no vision impairment or confusion about whose skin I resided in. With no sleep deprivation and fear for my life.

  TinkerHell’s chanting grew louder. Elane shouted something that was muffled and undefinable. Both of my hands went to the blade’s hilt as their noises filled the air.

  I ran, blade in hand, before hesitation could grip me. My feet pounded down the cave path, announcing my arrival to the battle. Around the last corner were the three other Travelers. Their stances and layout were similar to what I had seen before.

  The enemies were numerous. Many lay strewn about a large cavern with three exits aside from my entrance. Creatures came in from all directions.

  “Grant! We’re in a bad place!” Elane shouted as I ran past.

  I held [Morrigu’s Gift] high and twirled past her shield, trying to remember what Peg Hall had shown me.

  There were more of the opal golems. TinkerHell had called them [Gobbler]s. Monsters. These weren’t human, and that made it immensely easier. Never mind their block-carved heads and arms.

  “Epic dodge!” Edward happily commented.

  Two-handed weapons required clearance. They required knowledge of how far away the enemy was. Years of dance helped me understand footwork. Paired practice helped me understand moving around other objects in tandem with myself. Momentum, speed, all of it clicked as I took distance from Edward’s antics.

  And I swung.

  I ignored health bars as creatures shattered about me. Elane and the others had really softened this latest batch up. I was just cleaving through chunks of enemy. I swung again. Edward’s voice was high-pitched and protesting. Elane was yelling. TinkerHell sent bolts of cold through the air with each shout of gibberish.

  This was me trying to strive valiantly. I would not be with those cold and timid souls.

  Another swing cleared out two more of the monsters. [Morrigu’s Gift] spun in my hand and came down abruptly upon one of the bisected remains. Cutting them into two pieces wasn’t enough to end their lives.

  “Another wave! These ones are tougher!”

  The other three simply adapted around my nonsense dancing. Most of my actions were around the edges. Only Edward was brave enough to step into the inner circle.

  “Hah!” he declared. “Too slow!”

  “Line them up!” SheHulk yelled. “Grant! Push them toward the center!”

  I nodded. My brain was still on its rant while muscle memory carried me around. It was much the same as my night dances. Thought was there, but wasn’t. Thought without thought. Everything was on autopilot. [Morrigu’s Gift] hit another [Gobbler] so hard that it crashed into two behind it. I kept spinning as rocks chipped my backside.

  Blind spot hit. Damage received increased

  Total health loss: 60%

  For the last year, I’d held myself still. Stuck to a routine and tried not to think too deeply about anything. As if keeping a pattern would hold me together. Anger, sadness, all of it twisted my life for years. Today, tonight, here in this game, I would try to live again. This was me taking back control, one glorious swing at a time. I was choosing to fight, and that made all the difference.

  Dusk was somewhere. He tore into the small broken limbs of the glowing monsters. Fingers and hands were wrestled down. His squawks were background noise, like TinkerHell’s chanting.

  “Twenty percent left!” the blonde informed us all.

  She and Edward seemed so happy. Only Elane seemed upset at all. Hair spilling out of SheHulk’s helmet was matted from sweat and her teeth ground together.

  “Are you having fun?” Edward was nearby, taking a breather. He sat in the small spot I’d managed to carve out with the giant blade. How he’d sneaked past all my maniacal swinging was beyond me.

  Both my hands stayed on the two-handed weapon. I didn’t trust myself to speak or act without a firm grip.

  “Well, if humming is an answer, then I’d say yes. Good lad. Let’s clear some more.” Edward drew in close as more of the orange glowing creatures came in. The name [Gobbler] felt wrong somehow.

  “What is he humming?” one of the women asked.

  “I can’t tell.” Edward leapt back out and drew his claws across the hindquarters of another two [Gobbler]s. One of them clipped his head in passing, and the roguish man faltered for a moment. His foot slipped, but he managed to get a hand on the ground.

  I swung [Morrigu’s gift] at the heads of those monsters around him. The blade was strong enough to cut into the first one and send a sliced head into a second. They jangled around for a moment before toppling. Edward didn’t have time to give me thanks; he kept on going.

  “What the hell are you humming, Grant?” Elane shouted. Her shield looked worn down. The shine was nearly gone and what had once been a clearly etched sun seemed to be bent out of proportion. “Grant!”

  “Clear the middle!” TinkerHell spoke right over Elane.

  “As you say, ladies!” Edward ran by and grabbed my wildly swinging self by the shoulder. His momentum made us tumble toward the left wall.

  I scrambled to stand up but failed. One large blast surged through the room. The air dipped in temperature, and a chill shot across my face. Rocks grew permafrost. Edward lost his smile and gave one single irritated twitch of his mustache. The wave of cold swung into the far wall, leaving a nearly solid ring of blue.

  It shook me out of the moment. My dance tunes fell from my head, and everything narrowed to the aftermath.

  Statues stood in the room, rigid and lifeless. Health bars displayed above their heads as either gone or nearly empty. Elane peeked out from behind her shield and grumbled some more. Soon she w
as stepping forward, still tired looking, still ragged with sweat even in this cold. With each footfall, the tower shield in her hands bashed against a frozen enemy.

  Edward was up and looking around. He picked over fallen monsters, and portions of their bodies disappeared. Soon the room was strangely free of enemies.

  TinkerHell had managed to barely hold onto her smile. “We clear?”

  “Think so,” Elane said. “Edward? How’s it look?”

  “Like pure gold.”

  “Count it up. Make sure Grant gets his share.” She waved one hand in my direction.

  “Yeah. Good job, Hermes,” TinkerHell said. She fell to the ground and just lay there.

  Acknowledgment received

  +3 [Respect]

  At the end, pieces of monsters and rubble lay around us. TinkerHell lay collapsed on the floor, and SheHulk was grumbling while bandaging wounds. Edward cheerfully announced all the skill increases he’d received. I felt conflicted between both exhaustion and elation.

  “What the heck were you humming?” Elane asked again. Her cleanup was complete. One arm hung over her shield as she recovered from the battle.

  “I don’t know.” Something catchy. Something filled with bangs and explosions. It was probably a symphony from ages ago. The beat helped me move, helped me zone out just a little from the violence.

  Notice!

  The Voices have shown interest in your increased desire to perform and will update their opinion of you.

  If only you had performed this well on your Trials.

  – James

  Attention!

  You have successfully fought creatures above your Path Rank! Combat results favorable. Character profile being updated!

  +3 [Brawn]

  +4 [Coordination]

  +2 [Reaction]

  +1 [Limberness]

  Notice!

  Skill Merger Demonstrated.

  Skills merged: [Dance], [Dance (Paired, Ballroom Step)], and [Weapon Focus (Bladed, Large Two-Handed)]

  Results: Rank One Blade Dancer Path Unlocked!

  Path Complexity: Medium

  Rank One Unlock – Increased ability to handle large weapons

  Added damage when a song is playing

  Added damage for each follower of a Dancer Path in combat

  Increased effectiveness to all skills involving [Dance]

  Boxes hung off to the side of my screen. They were the only thing that separated this game from what was real. That was their function, and I had utterly disregarded them during combat. Even now, so many pointless pieces of text were being displayed. Skills went up, stats went up, but none really mattered. I flicked them away, even one about a [Battle Hum].

  What did that say about me? That I didn’t care about all the system messages? This game wasn’t about the game. It was about trying to make something of myself in another world. One free of what I had been in the past.

  This was my first deliberate step in a long, long time.

  Session Twenty-Four — Light’s End

  We spent the next few hours winding through tunnels before reaching a place that TinkerHell knew. During that time, I learned that all three had been playing this game since near its release. Which was why they seemed so comfortable handling anything coming our way. TinkerHell made us stop and rest up while we discussed the best course of action.

  “How much further?” SheHulk asked.

  “Too far. We need to go through the town.” The blonde shook her head slowly.

  I was just happy with being able to see. Joining them in combat was getting a little bit easier too. Nothing so far involved more than a pack or two of the monsters at one time. Progress was being made. There was something amazingly cathartic about hitting stuff with a giant sword. The woman I had met in [Haven Valley], HotPants, had had the right idea with regards to that. Edward took it to a whole new level with his constant stream of skill announcements.

  “The town is a death trap. You know it, I know it. Even with Grant we’ll never make it,” SheHulk said.

  “Ladies, it’s there or failure.” Edward was pressed against one of the passageways that led out of this cavern.

  “The town?” I asked.

  “Gobbler town. They all come from a central point in this wing of the dungeon. It should be along this tunnel.” TinkerHell waved her staff at the left-most exit. “We go through, skirt the edges, and get to the right path.”

  “Straight on ‘til morning.” Edward sounded happy. “Let’s do it.”

  “We’re going to die,” SheHulk grumped. She had been taking off pieces of armor and rubbing some liquid on them. The items seemed to be in better shape afterward.

  Did armor repair come in potion form? My poor cloak could use some magical healing.

  “I’m all for it. Edward’s for it. What’s your vote, SheHulk?” TinkerHell asked.

  “I’m just here to protect you. If you want to go, I’ll go.” Elane’s face twisted up a little bit while she spoke. Something about the line bothered her.

  My mind was only half paying attention. I was still hopeful for the future. Maybe the Voices would let me go to a city soon. This destination of ours, [Broken Mountain Pass], hopefully would have people, trainers, anything that let me work toward a few more useful skills. This Blade Dancer Path was kind of neat. I had been trying to activate the skills during our last few fights. Continue had shown me a class, or whatever, that was very much up my alley.

  “Your call, Hermes,” TinkerHell said.

  Crud. Today, as loosely defined in reality, was shaping up to be a long day. In the real world, I had roughly ten hours left to reach the pass. Game time equated to a day and eight hours. There was no way to do this without running a risk.

  Plus, what would happen if I lost the title? My choices, according to TinkerHell’s explanation, were to fail, or risk it and maybe succeed, maybe fail. I wouldn’t bother asking the Voices above any questions until they answered my last one. Dusk’s survival was still a questionable factor.

  “I’m on a time limit, so I don’t have a choice… only, if I die, can you guys make sure Dusk gets out okay?”

  Dusk gave an inquisitive chirp from my shoulder. He paced for a moment, tiny claws digging through the uncovered spots of the starter armor. I reached up to rub the little guy’s head and try to calm him down. He nipped at one finger but gave in.

  “Is the tiny devil not bound?” Edward asked.

  “No. I’m still not sure what happens if he dies, or I do.” And that kind of pissed me off. James, my personal Voice, should have provided an answer by now. The fact that he hadn’t made me worried.

  “Pets should have a summoning spell of some sort. Doesn’t yours come with that?” TinkerHell said.

  “No. Dusk isn’t a pet, he’s a companion,” I said.

  “Ohhh.” The blonde smiled. “That’s cool! I never met anyone with a companion before.”

  “Nor have many others. They’re rare,” Edward said and shrugged. He was more interested in our conversation than the hallway he was guarding.

  “Please, just try to keep him alive for me if things go south.”

  The [Messenger’s Pet] was distracted by the head rub. Only a cupcake would break him away from the moment.

  “Fine. Let’s go, we’re wasting game time,” Elane said. She rolled one shoulder and got her shield and mace ready to go.

  TinkerHell and Edward marched off fairly quickly, with me taking up the rear. They decided that even though I carried a big sword, I was still too much of a newbie to frontline anything.

  Honestly, they seemed more comfortable with their own group tactics. Inserting me into them was difficult. That, or I was being subjected to the role of Carver once again. My back must have an “Escort me, I’m clueless” sign on it.

  “It’s about an hour’s walk down this tunnel. My map has a few turns, but nothing too difficult,” TinkerHell said from up front. “We should be able to get your boy toy to the other end in time.”
/>   Edward fell back a bit to talk to me. “She’s calling you a toy, mate.”

  “I’ve been called worse.” Being an accountant all those years ago had subjected me to some rather creative names by angry rich people.

  “You and SheHulk then…?”

  “No. We never did,” I answered.

  “Good, I wouldn’t want to, you know, step on any toes.”

  SheHulk, or Elane, was grumbling in front of us. She could probably hear Edward talking about his intentions. At least the man was vaguely subtle in his wording. Declaring that he was out to “hit that” would be disastrously funny.

  “That’s between you two. Elane and I gave it a try and failed.”

  “We didn’t fail, Grant. You killed any attempt we might have had by rambling about your dead ex,” SheHulk said.

  The gap between our party members had grown smaller as we walked. My eyes clenched shut. A tempo crawled into my brain as I attempted to keep calm. Elane was just stating the truth—rudely. My brain tried to formulate angry retorts while interrupting each one with thoughts of foot placement and arms. Dancing was a complicated task, and sometimes amazingly simple.

  “That’s rude, SheHulk,” TinkerHell said.

  “It’s still true.”

  “She’s right,” I admitted.

  “Still rude,” TinkerHell responded.

  “No. I, uhh, I wasn’t much fun to be around back then. Life, you know?” Airing my dirty laundry to a bunch of strangers wasn’t new, but this wasn’t the setting for it. Beers at the local inn would be better. Wait. No. Drinking was a bad idea. The fact that the thought had even crossed my mind was a sign of how far my recovery had yet to go.

  “No worries, mate. We’re all here because of life’s issues,” Edward said as his mustache twitched.

  “I told you, Elane’s my sponsor,” Tink whispered.

  “I hope things are going well.” My response was vague and noncommittal. There was no good response to such an open-ended admission. TinkerHell could be sponsored for any number of issues. If Elane was doing it, then the issue was probably anger management.

  “They are,” she responded.

  “Tink, your appointment’s today, isn’t it?” SheHulk said, suddenly talking over TinkerHell.

 

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