Legends of Tarthirious : Books One-Four of Kylia's Story (Legends of Tarthirious (A LitRPG))

by Zachariah Dracoulis

  I got out of my head long enough to smile, “Thank you. I mean… Wait…”

  “Don’t worry,” Alison laughed, “I never know what to say about those kinds of things either. You’ll be back on in a minute, you’re doing brilliantly.”

  My head was still kind of spinning, but I still managed a polite nod before she walked off. Again, I didn’t feel famous or anything, everything that was happening with the whole… everything was all very strange. I still lived in my quiet little apartment and I was still going to go back to my everyday job. All I’d done was have a bunch of crappy, horrible shit happen to me, and, for some reason, that made me popular.

  “You okay?” Gerald asked as I tried to ground myself again.

  “Yes, yeah… I’m just… this is all just absolutely mental, you know? Like… this kinda stuff doesn’t happen, right? It’s like I’m-”

  “Still waiting to wake up from a dream?” Gerald asked, giving me a knowing smile, “I get where you’re coming from.”

  I sighed with relief and gave a little chuckle, “Good, cool, you get it too.”

  “Yeah, been feeling that way since you and I got together.”

  We shared a loving look for a while, neither one of us wanting to break it, but then Griegs tapped me on the shoulder and pointed behind me, “As adorable as this all is, I think they’re waiting on you.”

  I spun around in a panic and saw Kenneth sitting in his chair looking bored, then back to Gerald, “I’ve gotta-”

  “Just go.” he laughed.

  He made me so Goddamn happy.

  Anyway, I trotted back to my chair and got back into the interview, fuck heels, am I right?

  Things started to get a bit more contemporary, focusing on what happened at the press release and how I was kidnapped by Bishop. The good news was we didn’t spend much time on one topic, jumping ahead so quickly that I didn’t think they could possibly stretch it into the 45 minute long segment that it normally was.

  I was right about to point out my concerns when we got up to the present and Kenneth started up his introduction speech.

  It took everything in my power not to screech about getting a surprise guest, most of that only because I was busy trying to focus on who it was going to be. For a sad, brief moment I actually thought they might bring out my parents like Kenneth liked to do with celebrities, but then I remembered and hid a disappointed sigh.

  “-nd I’d now like to introduce our surprise guest! He’s the face of the UBR, United British Rebels for those at home who haven’t yet heard of them. A protest group formed in the wake of Kylia Redmond. Please help me welcome Eric Stol!”

  I was busy trying to figure out what the UBR was, I think I might have heard about them in passing on the radio at some point, but it was all still very unknown. I’d have thought on it more, but Eric, a healthy thirty-something-year-old guy in a nice looking brown suit came over from the door built into the set behind us with a big smile.

  He went to Kenneth first, who’d gotten to his feet, an action that I mimicked, so that he could shake Eric’s hand, before coming to me, grabbing my hand firmly and shaking it.

  Before I could say a word he’d put his hand lightly on my shoulder and leaned in, “It’s an absolute honour to meet you.”

  “Thank you.” I said, not knowing how else to respond.

  He let go of my shoulder and went to take his seat beside me.

  “Great to have you on the show Eric,” Kenneth said as we both sat back down, “I trust the ride over was acceptable?”

  Eric gave a sincere nod, “It was brilliant, thank you so much for having me on.”

  “You’re most welcome, traffic’s not exactly a problem these days.” Kenneth laughed, I swear he made that joke once a month, but it always hit the mark.

  “On that note we’re going to take a short break,” Kenneth said after getting a look from Alison who’d come to stand with Gerald and Griegs, “and when we come back I’m sure we’ll get to hear plenty from the face of the UBR!”

  We got the all clear and Alison came over, “Great job everybody, especially you Kylia. Would anyone mind if we changed up the seating a bit though?”

  I gave her a confused look, hoping for some clarification that wouldn’t come, “I mean sure, I don’t see why not.”

  “Thank you so much. I just think that if we swap you and Eric it’ll give Kenneth an opportunity to speak to him without shouting over you the whole time, you know?”

  “Oh of course,” I said as I came to stand, “totally get it.”

  Kenneth, who was looking away disinterestedly, gave a sigh and played with his jacket, “Mind if I get another hit?”

  Something about the way he said ‘hit’ made me think that maybe Jane had been less than truthful about Kenneth’s vice being espresso.

  “Really?” Alison asked bitterly, “Now? You don’t think it’d be better to maybe wait to have your heart attack after the interview?”

  Kenneth rolled his eyes, “Alright, fine, but let’s finish this up. My skin feels like it’s about ready to peel off, and can we turn down the temperature a bit?”

  And that’s what settled it for me that he probably not so much addicted to caffeine as he was to more… unconventional uppers. Just as a fresh reminder: never meet your heroes.

  Eric and I swapped places and the interview kicked off again without a hitch, “So what can you tell us about your movement Eric?”

  Eric chuckled and gave Kenneth a grateful look, “I’m glad you call it a movement.”

  “And what would you call it?”

  “Just that actually, but… others, let’s say, have taken to calling it a terrorist organisation.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because we don’t conform.” Eric said bluntly, “We are the men and women who will not bend, nor break against the rule of a militant state.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? We’re opposed to the fact that the lovely Miss Redmond sitting here beside me was a victim of our MP’s ‘arrest first, investigate later’ policy.”

  “That wasn’t the MPs though.” I accidently blurted out before I could stop myself.

  Eric turned to face me, respect in his eyes, “What makes you say that?”

  I waited for someone to yell ‘Cut!’ or for Kenneth to start death staring me, but no such thing happened, instead the camera settled on me and I was allowed to say my piece.

  “Well… it was the regular police, wannit?” I internally snapped at myself for saying ‘wannit’ on national telly before pressing on, “And they were just doing their job, catching me before I could do anything worse. And the way I look at it is that if this had all happened twenty years ago, long before the MPs, the outcome would’ve been the same.”

  I expected Eric to start attacking me about my ‘wrong’ ideas, but instead he let a thoughtful expression land on his face and gave a sort of half-nod, “I can see where you’re coming from, but at the same time you must agree that the way things were handled was kind of out of place.”

  I noted some hints of emotion in the last couple of words, but didn’t really take much time to consider my words before saying them, “I’m sorry, but I don’t. If I’d have had this conversation a few weeks ago I’d definitely have been on your side. Thing is I’ve come to know that the MPs are just people like us,” I said with a little laugh, realising that I was simply parroting what Bishop had said to me, “they want to make it to the finish line just as much as the rest of us.”

  “I suppose that’s a fair point,” Kenneth said in an attempt to regain control of his show, “do you feel the MPs are actually the ones to blame?”

  “How do you feel?” Eric practically growled at me, the emotions certainly starting to really bubble to the surface, “Those… people, they almost ruined you, and if it weren’t for that monster turning himself in you may never have been freed from prison.”

  My breathing started to speed up, the calm and
polite vibe that had once been coming off of Eric was all but gone, replaced instead by a steadily increasing bout of pure anger.

  I started to worry that I was going to freak out and say something that would put me on the Commander’s and the Commissioner’s bad side just so that Eric would leave me alone, but then I saw Griegs giving me a reassuring smile and a little thumbs up from out of the corner of my eye.

  Nothing against Gerald or anything, I probably would’ve snuck a glimpse of him too if my peripheral vision allowed it, but Griegs was the one who was making me feel safe at that time, and only because I knew he was armed.

  “I suppose I feel… happy.” I said with an almost confident smile, “Ever since the whole situation with the hospital and everything I’ve been taken care of, and they’re regularly checking up on me.” I said with a little smile, the memory of Will’s third wheeling coming to mind.

  Eric gave a tired sigh, clearly I hadn’t given him the answer he was looking for, but I’d told him the truth and that was the best I could do.

  “Very well,” he said with a pained sigh, “I was hoping I could have you see things my way before we wrapped all this up, but you’re set with your convictions, and I can respect that.”

  He looked away from me for a moment, tears forming as he stared directly into the camera, then turned his gaze slightly toward Griegs and grew angry once again, “Miss Redmond, I am truly quite sorry for this.” he said as he pulled something from his jacket’s inner pocket, “For a free Great Bri-!”

  Two gunshots rang through the studio and Eric’s head slumped backwards, a bullet hole just below his nose and another above his right eyebrow.

  He was dead, and I didn’t know what to do.

  Kylia: Chapter 8

  I was in shock, not quite knowing whether to shriek, pass out, or simply stay silent and seated. Kenneth on the other hand seemed, if anything, mildly disappointed at having his guest shot, the obvious implication being that it had happened before.

  He looked to the camera and blew a bored raspberry, me only just stopping myself from telling him not to from the fear that he’d get shot too like the last person who’d looked at the camera, “I suppose that’s all for this morning, see you again next Saturday.”

  The cameraman gave the signal that he’d stopped filming, and Kenneth took that as his cue to lean over to Eric and pry open his fingers so that he could grab whatever it was that he had pulled out before getting shot. It was a small black cylinder, roughly the size of a glue stick, and had the sort of obvious danger about it, like a big red button in a nuclear facility.

  Kenneth sighed and showed me the device, “Wouldn’t want to be dropping that, would we? Griegs, Alison, could someone come take this?”

  Griegs came over, leaving Gerald to stand there looking as shocked as I did for a moment before running across the set to me, “Are you okay?”

  I nodded shakily and tried to manage a smile for some reason, “I… I think so… What happened?”

  “Griegs… He… he shot Eric.”

  I wanted to say something about that being obvious, stopping myself only when I realised that Gerald may very well have been affected far worse than I. That, or, you know, shock.

  Everything was kind of unreal, you know? Like I was watching my life from the outside-in and because Gerald was still clearly unsure of how to deal with that, it was when Griegs came over after taking what I guessed was the detonator off the mildly annoyed Kenneth that pulled me back to reality.

  “Hey, Kylia,” Griegs said, snapping his fingers in front of my face and pushing Gerald aside when he tried to interfere, “the next ten minutes are going to be crucial, do you understand?”

  I nodded and then, for the first time, looked over myself for spots of blood, of which there were none.

  “Good. Now, I’m going to take you back to the car, alright? We’re going to use the backdoor, and if there’s anyone other than the driver or MPs waiting out there I’m going to shoot them, you keeping up?” he asked Gerald who’d taken to twiddling his fingers.

  “Yeah, yes. I’ve got it.”

  “Fan-fuckin’-tastic. From there we’re gonna go back to your flat, you’re probably gonna get a phone call from either the Commander or a representative. You’re not to answer calls from anyone else, and I’ll probably get info to relay to you on the ride over. From here to your flat you are my property, alright? That means you stick to me like I’m made of glue and you do everything I say. You don’t, you die. You ready to go, or do you need a minute?”

  Truth was I really did need a minute, but I figured I’d get one in the car ride over that was a bit further from the dead body, so I stood up and grabbed Gerald’s hand, “Let’s go.”

  Griegs gave me a little smile and nodded, “That’s what I like to hear, come on.”

  From there everything was sorta automatic, I held Gerald’s hand the whole way through the studio toward the back door at a fast walking pace, avoiding the looks we were getting from the few crew members present.

  We finally reached the back door and Griegs checked outside, which was still relatively dark, before getting us through to the vehicle we’d arrived in that was sitting almost right next to the exit, the open door creating an effective barrier from the rest of the alley we were in.

  Griegs hadn’t even shut the door and we were already pulling away, “Great job guys.” he said between heaved breaths as if he’d been holding it in his lungs the whole journey over, “Proper good stuff. How’re we feeling?”

  “Wha…what happened?” I was a broken record, but, to be fair, I still hadn’t fully processed what had occurred back in the studio.

  Griegs seemed to have seen that kind of thing before though, and was more than happy to update me, “Eric pulled a detonator, some kind of explosive rigged inside of him I’m guessing, and I put him down.”

  “How are you so bloody calm?” Gerald asked with a half-laugh, half-scream.

  Again, shock, it’s a weird thing.

  “Trick I do, just pretend I’m not me, my body’s doing the work and I’m just along for the ride.”

  A phone started ringing and I jumped, expecting my seat to explode and then fiery death, but instead Griegs just pulled out a mobile from his pocket and pressed it to his ear.

  “Yes sir. No sir. She’s right here sir. I understand, but I onl… I understand. Yes sir. Yes sir. Goodbye.”

  Gerald and I let him have a few seconds of relaxing breathing before asking the obvious, “Who was that?”

  “The Commander,” he said while rubbing his eyebrow, “looks like I might be in a spot of bother for taking the detonator. Anyway, not important, what’s important is that everything’s being tidied up as we speak. As far as everyone’s concerned you felt sick, you couldn’t go on, we took you home. Alright?”

  I hesitated, but nodded eventually with the knowledge that those guys probably knew what was best for me.

  Gerald had a different school of thought though, “We’re just supposed to lie?”

  “No,” Griegs said flatly, “she’s supposed to lie, you’re not supposed to say a damn thing.”

  “Someone got shot beside her! How is she not expected to talk about it?”

  Gerald was concerned, I knew that, and it was coming from a place of love, but I needed everything to be calm at that point in time, “Gerry, love, I really need you to shut up right now. I really do love you, but the Sergeant knows what he’s talking about.”

  “I really do,” Griegs said, giving me a thankful smile, “and I promise I don’t just want you to do this for no reason, this isn’t coming from me and my personal views. This is about keeping you safe, that’s all. And, on the plus side, I’m sure you’ll be compensated for any trauma you’ve experienced, more than likely in the form of a whopping great cheque.”

  I smiled nervously at that and turned to look out the window as buildings ripped by and we were taken home. I didn’t want money, I wanted to do a normal interview where things didn’t
go tits up in spectacular ways. I wanted my life to be normal, to have some kind of pattern that I could stick to.

  Instead I was surrounded by death, pain, and bullshit conspiracies that I had to keep my mouth shut about.

  Normal people don’t have rebellions formed because of them.

  Calling them protesters? Protesters don’t tend to blow up morning talk shows, that’s something terrorists do.

  I know my thoughts seem jonky and weird, but that’s just how they were. Nothing could be focused on for more than a few seconds without a reminder of another completely separate issue popping up.

  Tears rolled down my cheeks and a smile spread across my face at the same time as a thoughtless, involuntary whisper escaped me, “I just want to live…”

  Kylia: Chapter 9

  The rest of the trip home had been a silent one, and after Griegs had done his search of the building for another potential bomber, I was allowed to go inside. There wasn’t any waves goodbye, let alone any words, we simply parted ways and hoped that we would recover.

  Gerald and I sat on the couch a while, the dead silence hanging over us like the pale overcast of London. We were spent, and neither one of us quite knew what to do about that.

  I couldn’t speak for Gerald, but I desperately wanted to do stuff, physical stuff, like what I felt when I’d gone for that jog times a million. My soul was practically leaping out of my body, demanding that it get the experience of life that it so desperately craved.

  “Let’s move you in.” I said emotionlessly.

  “Alright.” Gerald said equally as flat.

  It’s sad, but it only took us about three hours, including the time it took me to swap into trackies and a hoodie, to move all of his possessions over, most of which fit in three boxes. Apparently a lot of his stuff was with his family, and he only kept the essentials around him.

  Moving into an already furnished place turned out to lack that entire thing of having boxes sitting around for a few days. Instead it was a single person’s flat one minute, a couple’s the next.