Absalom’s Fate

by J. D. L. Rosell

  Figuring this was as good a time as any to try out my new channel, I summoned up Basilisk’s Gaze, and felt petrifying power stream to my eyes. I stared at the beasts defiantly as they screamed and dove, ready to tear me apart. They never got that far. One met my eyes, then another, and a third, and all three went rigid and fell from the sky.

  The other harpies wizened up, and some even went so far as to put one clawed hand over their eyes as they dove down. This was about as successful as you might imagine, with one crashing into the bridge, and the other far too high. Farelle easily picked them off as they tried flying away.

  But the second batch of harpies had been watching and learning, and now they were diving towards us. These didn’t close their big black eyes, but kept them just slightly averted from my gaze. Desperate, I moved around erratically, trying to catch one of their eyes by accident, and was surprised to see one harpy fall prone out of the sky. But there were still six headed towards us — towards me, specifically.

  Time for a different tactic. Dropping Basilisk’s Gaze — I only had 38 spirit left anyway — I cast Icy Plume, shivering as the cold power ran through me. Moving my hand in an arc, I sprayed the harpies with frozen particles, slowing them and making their wings heavy with ice — heavy enough, I hoped, to make them fall. But I was spreading it out too much, and none of them did.

  Farelle yelled, “Watch out!” just before the harpies fell on me. I screamed as the talons of their feet tore into my shoulder, my torso, and both arms as I tried to ward them off. I swung my sword at them, but it was useless — there were too many and too close.

  There was a squawk, then one of the forms fell heavily down on me, blocking me from the others. The shaft of an arrow jabbed into me, and as the other harpies lifted away like pigeons disturbed at a park, I felt a glow of gratitude for Farelle. My concentration had lapsed so that it was hard to read the numbers, but my health bar had fallen well below ⅛ by this point.

  Managing to get one arm free, I pried my health potion from my inventory and quaffed it. As it was a gain-over-time effect, my bar started creeping up with the potion. Not quick enough. Pushing the surprisingly light harpy off of me, I channeled Minor Healing as quickly as I could, and my health jumped up to 70. I sighed. That was better.

  The cliff shook once again as the troll battered it. Then something shifted beneath my feet. I looked down.

  The cracks were spreading in the stone. My eyes widened. They were spreading too fast, growing too deep—

  They broke open.

  I had time to meet Farelle’s shocked eyes before the bridge fell out from beneath us, sending us careening into the ravine below. My health plummeted with each bone-rattling tumble among the broken boulders. I saw my blood splatter across their surfaces. Then the fall ended, and I felt my legs break under me. The status flashed before my screen. I wasn’t walking away from this one.

  The pain was so bad I could barely see. I knew I was stuck in the pincers of two rocks, but beyond that, I didn’t know where Farelle was, nor the troll for that matter. The monster was no doubt scrambling through the debris to find and eat us. It didn’t matter — whether I could see or not, I couldn’t do anything in my condition.

  More out of hope than belief it could save me, I cast Minor Healing with the last of my spirit. As I suspected, it barely raised my health at all. Apparently my Crippled condition reduced healing benefits.

  Then I saw the troll. His round black eyes had fallen on me, and a horrible grin split open its face. It came over the rocks, hands as big as tractor shovels reaching out for me. I squeezed my eyes close. But as much as I was going to hate this, I regretted even more that this was Farelle’s only life, and I would lose her.

  But no hand closed over me. Instead, a wave of sound cascaded over me. A roar of pain — from the troll? I couldn’t believe it. Who would attack a troll?

  Braving the sight, I opened my eyes again, and saw the strangest sight before me. A huge cat-looking giant stood opposite the troll, even bigger than it was. If that wasn’t strange enough, I recognized this cat giant. It was Sheika!

  “RUN AWAY!” she boomed, somehow big as a house, and not a poor man’s house either. “RUN AWAY, LITTLE TROLL!”

  The craig troll snarled, but I could tell he was scared. He started backing away, turning his body back towards a black opening I could barely detect in the valley wall.

  Giant Sheika took a step forward and snarled. It might have been cute when she was a normal size, but as she was, it was positively terrifying. “RUN FAR AWAY!”

  The troll finally took her advice. With a whimper like a kitten, it bolted, moving as a would gorilla on long arms and short legs. He pounded away down the ravine, and was soon out of sight and earshot.

  I watched as the giant Sheika turned her gaze on me, a ragged toy to her in a pile of rubble. I smiled weakly up, and despite a dozen inhibiting statuses, waved.

  She bent down, bringing her feline face close. “You,” she said, “have to be the worst adventurer ever.”

  “Can we discuss this when I can use my legs again and aren't bleeding out?” I had no other way to heal now, and my potion looked to have worn off from my trickling health points.

  Her mouth curled into a leer, then suddenly, she disappeared from above me. I blinked, wondering if I'd gone made before, or if it had just set in.

  “Over here, would-be troll snack.”

  I looked down over the rubble and barely saw the tips of her ears. “How did you do that?”

  Her head bobbed over the boulder. “Magic,” she whispered dramatically. “But seriously, just a high-level Mesmer spell. Comes in handy if you want to dine with giants, by the way.”

  The pain was worse than anything I'd imagined. At least when I'd died it had been over quickly. “How about helping out a dying fellow traveler, good Samaritan?”

  “Only if I get bonus bucks from the gods.” She held out a hand and a glow appeared before it. A moment later, much of the pain fled away, as did my statuses, and my health meter was much recovered.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Now how about a hand out of here?”

  But she was looking around the rubble, muttering to herself. As she looked, her subtle eyebrows drew down further and further.

  “This is going to be tricky,” she finally declared. “I can't blow it up without killing you and Satyr over there. That means an excavation.” She grinned suddenly. “No time like the present to work on your mining skills.”

  I sighed and settled in for the long haul.

  “You may as well log off for a bit,” she said. “You won't be able to do anything anyway.”

  I sighed. She was right. Likely this was the end of my stint in the Everlands — and embarrassing ambush and rescue. Not a good way to go. “Guess I’ll see you around,” I said glumly.

  “Give me an hour in real time,” she said. “Then we should be square.”

  I nodded, then pulled up the menu and thought the command Log off.

  Nothing happened.

  I frowned. “Log off,” I said out loud, staring at the option on the menu.

  Still nothing.

  Sheika had been wearing a small smirk, but suddenly it disappeared. “You too?” she said to herself softly. “But why?”

  But I had bigger problems than wondering what she was muttering about. “LOG OFF!” I roared. But the shift in volume didn’t make a difference. Nothing changed.

  Panic rose in my chest. How long had I been on? If the parlor guy couldn't kick me off, then there was no guarantee the system would automatically log me off when I'd been on too long. I could be a vegetable back in the real world for all I knew, my only brain activity whatever the game brought out in me.

  Log off, I thought one more time, but it didn’t matter. The menu didn't shift. The button didn't push. The world around me stayed where it was.

  I was stuck in the Everlands.

  17

  An Incomplete Explanation

  In the midst of my desp
air, I didn’t see the slap coming.

  “Hey!” I protested to Sheika looming over me.

  But she looked unrepentant, and her hand was poised to hit again. “Pull yourself together,” she said calmly. “You’re stuck. You’ve got to face that and accept it. Trust me; it gets easier.”

  I was stuck. Stuck here forever, or at least until I went brain dead. “Easier,” I muttered. “How the fuck would you know?”

  She stared at me like I had cauliflower in my skull instead of a brain. Well, I was well on my way to that state. “Because I’m stuck too, idiot.”

  My muddled thoughts clung to her words. “You too?”

  She nodded. “Me too.” She looked away. “But I’ll explain in a sec. We’ve got to save your Satyr companion before she bleeds out.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Sheika, you just told me that we both can’t log out. And you’re trying to save a NPC?” It felt wrong saying the words, reducing Farelle to just another NPC. But no matter how I’d grown personally attached to Farelle, no matter how I felt she was real, I knew objectively that she was just another computer-generated character.

  But Sheika shook her head. “I know you don’t understand. But it’s important, believe me. For your journey, and because…” She shook her head. “You’ll see, when you’ve spent enough time here.” Then she turned and walked away.

  I stared disbelieving after her. “Hey. Wait! You can’t just leave me here!”

  She just waved and didn’t turn back.

  I fumed, even though part of me was glad she was saving Farelle. But no matter what Sheika said about me growing to understand, I didn’t understand now. Farelle wasn’t sentient, not really. She was following a complex set of instructions, sure. But she wasn’t like us, like real people. She was as fabricated as the rest of the world around me.

  Wasn’t she?

  I pushed down the rebellious thought and worked myself into a silent rage while I waited. But by the time Sheika returned, the anger was already starting to burn out. Being angry just clouded my judgment. If I was going to get out of here and back into reality, I’d need to keep my head.

  “She'll live until I can get her out,” Sheika told me.

  I nodded, but couldn’t trust myself to speak yet. Still, I was glad to hear it.

  “Now close your eyes and cover your face — there's going to be a lot of dust.” A pick-axe appeared in the her hands, showing she meant business.

  Having no other choice, I pulled up my cloak’s hood over my face as best as I could, then settled into the long wait.

  The woman saying “I got bron-chitis!” was on repeat in my head by the time Sheika pulled me free from the rubble. Grateful as I was, I was still too upset about everything to much convey it. Sheika just gave me a pitying look, then turned to go back to Farelle and excavate her.

  Before she could leave, I grabbed her arm and stopped her. “You said she’ll survive, so she can wait. You need to explain what's going on now.”

  There was no way to see it coming. An invisible hand smacked me on the back of the head, and as my status had devolved back to Woozy during the long wait to get out of the rubble, I fell to the ground. I was starting to hate her magic.

  Sheika smirked down at me. “Told you not to tell me what to do.” She paused. “That's a roundabout way of saying shut up.”

  “I got it,” I answered dryly.

  Not wanting another smack, I let Sheika go this time, and followed her to my Satyr companion. As much as I was upset by my change in circumstances, I was glad to see Farelle staring ironically up from a pile of rocks.

  “Howdy, stranger,” I said to her half-heartedly.

  The Wilder shook her head. “You’re the strange one, the way you talk.”

  “You’ll want to cover your face,” Sheika advised Farelle. The Satyr, though, couldn’t pull any of her clothing free, so I offered her my cloak. She smiled gratefully up at me, and a pang of guilt went through me. I just nodded and stepped quickly back.

  We waited in silence as Sheika cracked at the stones trapping Farelle. An hour, then two bled by, and the day starting moving towards the golden light before sunset. Finally, the Satyr managed to wriggle free, and Sheika collapsed down, wiping her brow. “That’s no joke!” she said. “Even my stamina is nearly drained after that. I need a breather.”

  Farelle was staring at me, her mouth half open, and I wondered if she was going to apologize for the whole “there’s no monsters on this bridge!” thing. But I wasn’t concerned about that now.

  Not letting her catch a break, I turned to Sheika. “Is now a good time to tell me why I'm stuck here?” I asked sarcastically.

  Her pupils narrowed to slits. “Fine. We’ll talk here, right in the open valley, where any other monsters might wander past and find us.”

  I didn’t think about it long. “On second thought, if there's some cave or alcove nearby…”

  Farelle, eager to redeem herself, soon found us a ledge that provided sufficient cover, and we settled down in a pow-wow. “So,” I prompted.

  “So,” Sheika replied.

  It was like herding cats, getting her to explain. Impatiently, I waited as she closed her eyes for several long moments.

  “Have you tried calling tech support?” I hedged.

  Sheika cracked open an eyelid. “Now I know you’re an idiot. Tech support called me, numb nuts.” The eye slid closed again

  Well, there went that option. Still, I tried doing contacting tech support myself. All I got were error messages. Not a good sign, but at least Sheika seemed to be telling the truth. “So,” I said again.

  She cracked open her eyes again, golden irises gleaming through the slits. “Here’s the short of it. There’s a celestial war going on, and we — Everfolk, NPCs, and immortals, everyone — are caught in the middle of it.”

  Farelle’s eyes darted between Sheika and I, perhaps at the unfamiliar terms, but I didn’t bother explaining. “You said Everfolk,” I said slowly. “Is that us? Players, I mean?”

  Sheika nodded. “It’s what the Pantheon calls us, or so I’ve heard.”

  “Okay. But the celestial war is just in the Everlands. That doesn’t explain why I can’t log out.”

  The Wilder was mouthing the unfamiliar phrases, and though Sheika gave her a considering look, she continued nonetheless. “When The Everlands was developed — the game itself, that is — the creators left much of its maintenance in the hands of its AI gods. This was never meant to include system functions like logging out. However… it seems something has changed, and the gods have reached outside the purview to control aspects of the game itself.”

  I couldn't believe my ears. “You're saying the gods are keeping us here? And there's no failsafe Earth-side?”

  “Of course there is. There's the nuclear option of turning the game off. But that would be a PR disaster, not to mention dangerous for everyone logged in. It’s something they want to prevent if they possibly can.”

  Anger flared up again. “So I'm just a liability, am I? Who cares if one kid is locked in!”

  “Is it really so terrible?” Sheika murmured, so softly I almost didn't catch it. In the same breath she continued. “You’re not the only one trapped, as I told you before. There’s me, you, and at least one other player stuck here. But there's more. There's the reason why.”

  I didn't care why. I just wanted out. But I knew she was my best shot, so I humored her. “So why the gods are doing this?”

  “Exactly.” She bit her lip. “I think I know why, but I need to confirm it still.”

  “What, you’re not going to tell me again?”

  She eyed me. “Not in so many words. But I’ll tell you this: I think they’re protecting something. Someone.”

  I looked at her like she’d given me a smelly, limp turd. Which was about as useful as that answer was. “Really? We’re stuck here, and that’s all the explanation you’ll give? How am I supposed to help the situation if I don’t know what�
��s going on?”

  Her expression was entirely serious. “Because it doesn’t matter right now. It will distract you from what you need to do. And that’s concentrate on the quest before you. That, and getting stronger. If my hunch is right, we’re going to need you strong.” She eyed me skeptically. “And you have a long way to go.”

  If I could cover up my level 5, I would. “Sure, whatever,” I muttered.

  Sheika stood smoothly up. “I have to go now. Things to do, you know. I won’t be able to come rescue you if you get in trouble, so try to stay safe, or at least alive.”

  I stood as well. “Where are you going?” I asked miserably. “You’re sure I can’t do anything to log off?”

  Sympathy cut through her usual irony. “I’m sorry, Marrow,” she said softly. “Just enjoy it, okay?” She looked around. “Believe me, there’s nowhere better on Earth than here.”

  Without another word, she jumped and flipped into the air above me. As I whipped my head around to follow after her, I lost track as she scrambled up the cliff. She hadn’t quite left yet, for she shouted back over the cliff’s lip: “I’d check out the harpy nest if I were you!”

  Then there was the scrabble of rocks, and she was gone.

  “Well,” Farelle said, standing after Sheika had gone. “That explains a few things.”

  I was glum following my latest revelation, so I only asked half-hearted, “Explains what?”

  The Satyr cocked her head. “How you’ve resisted my charms this whole trip.”

  I whipped my head around, jaw slackening, before I saw the mocking grin. “Oh, you’re just… Right.”

  “Well, your lover—”

  “She’s not my lover!”

  “—Said we should check out that harpy nest, no?”

  “I thought it was a marpy nest,” I said sarcastically.

  The Wilder stared at me. “Do males lay eggs?”

  My face reddened. I wasn’t winning much today. However, I was did find our talk was cheering up a bit. The direness of my situation was already dulling. “Fine. Lead me to it, navigator.”