Void Legion

by Terry C. Simpson

  “Pretty much. But it was cool to see you flop around like a fish.” She smiled.

  “I–”

  “It’s okay.” She waved him off. “Trust and believe, I know how I come off. How I sound. Even IRL, people who know me find it hard to believe. The fact that I don’t wear dresses and makeup and other girly stuff doesn’t make it any easier. The joke used to be that I’m a trans man or non-binary. Some even called me pansexual.” She huffed. “Whatever. I’m just a girl who likes what she likes.” Her dagger appeared in her hand. She twirled it.

  “I swear I wasn’t thinking any of that,” Frost protested. “I’ve seen plenty of epic girl gamers.” But you’ve never considered being with any of them in real life. He swallowed at the thought.

  “No doubt,” she said. “Now you know about me, what’s your deal?”

  “Long story.” He sighed.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I guess I can start with my parents and I coming to the NAR from Barbados when I was six. My father got sponsored by a Corp because he was one of the best AI engineers.”

  “Barbados?” she repeated.

  “An island in the Caribbean,” he answered.

  “And you came here? It’s beautiful out there. Especially since the hurricanes seem to miss them ever since the Climatic Shift. I’ve always dreamed of being able to buy a VV to one of those islands.”

  Frost shrugged. “Pops had to follow the work.”

  “Is the ocean really blue?”

  “When it isn’t overrun with seaweed, yes.”

  “You must have loved swimming.”

  Frost shook his head. “I actually hated it. I almost drowned just before my sixth birthday. I’ve had this deathly fear of the sea ever since. Of water, period. Having the same thing almost happen in Brooklyn during Hurricane Perol only made it worse.”

  “Sorry to hear. I know how it is. My parents drowned during Superstorm Ezra.”

  Frost winced. “Damn. My condolences.”

  “Thanks. Now, back to your story before you get all sentimental on me.”

  “Alright.” Frost smiled. “Life in the city was great at first. We lived in a Middle Ward apartment in Prospect Heights. Things changed a bit when my little sister was born a year later.”

  “The FPC allowed that?”

  “Pops paid the fines beforehand so we were covered.”

  “Oh.” There was a slight pause, an uncomfortable silence, and then she asked, “When did you get into gaming.”

  “I’ve been gaming for as long as I can remember. Pops said I was two when I first put on his VR headset.” Frost smiled with the thought. “The first things I played were VR sims. Pops used them to homeschool me.”

  “Oh, okay, that explains a lot.”

  “Yeah,” Frost said. “I was hooked. I’d play every and anything in VR. Pops even had me get into MMA and firearms. I was sick when it came to first person shooters. Won my fair share of MMA and 3-Gun tourneys both in VR and IRL.”

  “3-gun tourneys?”

  “It’s basically a shooting obstacle course,” Frost said. “You run through it as fast as you can, using rifles, shotguns, and pistols, to hit pop up targets, trying to be as accurate as possible.”

  “Sounds like you can handle yourself.” She nodded, lips pursed. “I’ll have to put you to the test one day.”

  “First, you wanna duel me in game. Now outside of it.” He smiled. “No prob.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” she said. “What made you play Ataxia?”

  “A friend in high school. I never looked back.”

  “Why’d you stop playing?”

  “At first, it was a promise to Mom and Pops. Then soon after that we got a call that Pops died in an accident.”

  “My condolences.”

  “Thank you.” Frost sighed, a throe gripping his heart. “Everything went to hell after that.”

  He continued on, reliving not only the night of Pops’ accident, but also his own with Mom and Kai. He told Gilda about the day he woke in Equitane Towers to discover his mother was in a coma, only alive due to TNT, the same process BioGen ironically used in Void Legion. Then came the torment of mentioning Sidrie’s threats. He didn’t know why he told Gilda so much. Maybe, he shouldn’t have. But it felt good. A release.

  “I’m sorry they put you through all that,” Gilda said. “Equitane has a lot of people fooled.”

  Frost nodded. “I see that. There were other top players testing Void Legion. I wonder how many went through what we did.”

  “A lot, I’d bet.”

  They drifted into silence. The crevids’ frequent snorts became loud amid the susurrus of long grasses. A wind sighed through the branches of a nearby tree, the breeze a welcome respite against the blazing coin of a sun.

  An idea came to Frost. “You said you were almost level ten… that you alpha-tested before. You musta been to Maelpith Island and Imanok Sanctum at some point. How hard are they?”

  Gilda’s brow furrowed. “Too hard for so-called noob zones. At least for soloing. The entire island’s full of elite mobs.”

  “That should mean better gear than other noob areas,” Frost said. “Nothing worth doing is easy.”

  “While both of those are true,” Gilda said, “it makes more sense to risk it after leveling elsewhere. Then you can pay the island a visit when you’re stronger.”

  “I guess.” Frost heaved a sigh. “It’s just that I really wanna get back to my Mom and my little sister.”

  “We don’t always get to do the things we want or get to do them how we’d like,” Gilda said. “Everyone I know who was level ten or below died when they went to Maelpith Island. Myself included.

  “And the weather’s the worst. Clouds often blot out the sun. There’s always thunder and lightning. One minute, it’s a pretty decent day, if a bit gloomy, and in the next few minutes you’re caught in terrible winds and rain. Even tornadoes. They say its remnants of the voidstorm.

  “As for the Sanctum, it can get you some decent early shards and schemas off GUMs. Some people claim the new Emperor KiGyaba’s treasure room has a hierka like your aether cannon. And you can find some rare shards. But no one’s beaten him, so who knows what the truth really is.”

  The thought of empowered genesiswork equipment got Frost pumped. Perhaps, he might be lucky enough to land an epic or a legendary hierka. Hell, maybe something genesis grade. There was also the challenge itself. And what completing it meant in the real world.

  He cocked his head to one side, brows knitted. “You beat the old Emperor KiGyaba in Heroic Castle Dhoom, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you reach this one?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Our group didn’t come close to beating him.”

  “Anyone tried out-leveling the Sanctum?” he asked.

  “The difficulty scales to match average group level.”

  “So gearing up to beat it at max would be the best option,” he mused.

  “Who knows?” Gilda shrugged. “The dungeon might scale with power too. And whether or not he’d drop hierkas worthy of max level is another mystery.”

  “What about going the other way?” Frost asked. “Instead of trying to out-level it, bring a zerg.” Frost imagined the zerg: a full fifteen-man raid of low-level characters trying to clear the place.

  “A zerg wouldn’t work either. It scales for numbers as well.”

  Frost’s brow furrowed. “Any idea on the strats?”

  “Throw away every old strategy you could think up, especially since there’s no Hit Points to tell how well you’re doing,” Gilda said. “I told you Estela is always learning. I assume she has the logs of every failed attempt to call upon. I died so many times in the alphas that I’m beginning to think it’s
impossible.”

  “Yet, you’re here.”

  Gilda shook her head. “You said it earlier: what choice is there? Plus, I live for the challenge.” She grinned. “Trust and believe, I’m going to beat that bastard.”

  Staring into those bright green eyes, Frost believed every word. Abruptly remembering Tia, he frowned. He hoped she was fine. The moment he had the thought brought a fresh surge of worry. It made him wonder if he was better off without such real-life emotions and experience.

  “So, this easier leveling you spoke about… think you could put me on?”

  “You’re doing it right now,” Gilda said. “By following early quest lines. But avoid Maelpith Island until after level ten.”

  “Alright.”

  The beat of galloping hooves reached him. Saba appeared up ahead. Frost smiled wryly. Damned dresdori sure can cover some distance.

  The marksman drew to a halt in front of them, sweat pouring down her face, the sheen of it glinting along her flanks. “There was a raid on Soleb,” she said breathlessly.

  “A raid?” Frost repeated. A cold prickle eased through him. “By who? Battleguards looking for us?”

  “Worse. The Redthorns. Umesh Madara.”

  Gilda hissed. Frowning, Frost looked from her to Saba. The names meant nothing to him.

  “Umesh is the gurash slavemaster your mother saved Nebsamu from,” Saba said. “His Redthorns are part of a grand kora operation.”

  “He’s massive, even for a gurash,” added Gilda. “And he’s a GUM.”

  The cold prickle became a tightness in Frost’s chest. “Did Tia get caught in the raid?”

  “I don’t know,” Saba said.

  Frost stroked the aether ring on his pinky. A quest to locate Umesh Madara, Tia, and the others popped into his head. “Let’s find out. And whether he does or not, I say we kill this Umesh Madara.”

  “Finding him is one thing. Killing him is another,” Saba said. “We’re not strong enough for that. We also need to be certain he has Nebsamu and Melori. If it was up to me alone, I would leave them. But Nebsamu still hasn’t paid me for my help.”

  Frost almost said he didn’t give a shit about Nebsamu or Melori. Or about Saba getting paid. He bit his tongue. “Let’s get to it.” Frost made to kick his mount into motion.

  “Not so fast.” Saba retrieved two bundles from her inventory. Blue clothing by the looks of them. “I encountered two Azureguard scouts. One dead, and the other on the brink of death.” She tossed a bundle to Frost and the other to Gilda.

  Frost caught his bundle.

  Acquired armor: Azureguard Soldier uniform

  Damage reduction:

  3 percent

  Stagger resist:

  1 percent

  Saba continued, “Get dressed. Before he died, the last scout said a Battleguard company is flying in to Soleb to investigate. The locals are the type who don’t take kindly to strangers. We’ll need some sort of authority if we’re to get anyone to talk to us so we can have an idea as to where Umesh has gone off to or if he even has Nebsamu, Melori, and your sister.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Epic players do epic things, Frost thought with a smile. He was dressed in an Azureguard’s hard leather cuirass over a sky-blue gambeson to match his hose. The insignia of Khertahka’s Dual Katars adorned his sleeves, while the Coalition’s Mountain and the Aetherstream emblazoned his cloak. With Noobstick in hand, he swore he could pass for a Vindicator, the Grendesh Coalition’s most elite warriors.

  Gilda rode to his left, garbed in a full set of cobalt robes that set off her cerulean skin. She looked none too happy about it. Her glum expression made Frost’s smile widen.

  Saba trotted on the other side in leather armor dyed in standard Coalition green and yellow. Her human half was in a gambeson with a cuirass over it. She had a flanchard to cover her flanks, peytral for the equine part of her chest just above her legs, and a crupper for her hindquarters. While Frost and Gilda both had the single stripe on their lapel and below the Khertahkan Dual Katars to identify them as mere soldiers, Saba sported a lieutenant’s triple stripes below Nimri’s Longbow.

  Frost’s smile lingered until Soleb came into full view. He stared, mouth agape. The village was in shambles. Most buildings were little more than burnt out husks. Blue, purple, and red blood stained the ground. Folk huddled outside their destroyed homes, many bawling like babes. Others hugged the remnants of their families. Forlorn gazes tracked Frost and his group as they rode into the village.

  A few locals acknowledged them with bows and whispers, some with prayers and thanks to Nif, while others hurried along, gazes averted. Although some headed in the same direction as Frost and his group, double their number trudged in the direction from which the group had come, heads down, backs bent, clothes covered in soot. The murmur of mournful voices floated on a breeze that carried the overbearing stench of char.

  “Split up and gather the information we need so we can leave before the Battleguards fly in,” Saba said. “Meet back here in an hour.”

  They went from home to home, questioning survivors. On many occasions Frost had a sinking feeling in his stomach, the one he got whenever he heard a tale about a child dragged off by the slavers, slaughtered during the raid, or burned to death in a home.

  Each story reminded him of his experience in Niba, made him more desperate and worried for Tia. As did the black patches that scarred the ground. The blood-soaked bandages of survivors. The tears of a hapless mother. An orphaned child’s sobs. Frost was the last one back to the meeting spot.

  “A few mentioned seeing Nebsamu, Melori, and Tia,” Saba reported. “But none knew what became of them. They said we should ask the village Elder. An erada named Amun. How did you do?”

  “Heard pretty much the same thing,” Gilda said.

  Frost gave his account. “Most were concerned with their own tragedies. The ones who said more mentioned Amun also. Said we could find him at the village square.” He jutted his chin toward the dirt road winding its way into Soleb.

  “The village square it is, then.” Saba trotted in that direction.

  Though he tried to ignore it, Frost couldn’t help but see the remnants of destruction around him as they rode through the village. Nor could he stop the growing urgency and dread in his gut.

  They arrived at the square where people lined the left side of the area, heads bowed in prayer, voices murmuring in unison. But it was the entire right side that held Frost’s attention. Bodies lay in neat rows. All of them were erada. Someone had cut off their horns. Frost swallowed hard against the urge to puke.

  “Umesh Madara’s work,” Saba said, voice gruff. “He slaughters those who are too much trouble to enslave and takes their horns for the grand kora markets.”

  “That many horns would be worth thousands of credits,” Gilda said. “Tens of thousands. Either to be ground into powder to be added to healing potions for a more powerful brew or to treat rare ailments. The finest looking ones would be sold to rich grand korae as pieces of art.”

  A coffee-skinned erada departed from the front of the mourners and shuffled toward them, his light-colored robes stained with soot and blood. His horns were thick, majestic, curled back and then down and around before ending in a point. A hint of hope shone in an otherwise bleak face touched by at least ten decades.

  “Lieutenant, Soldiers, I am Elder Amun.” The Elder dipped his head while wringing his hands. “Praise be to Nif for your speedy arrival.” He made the sign of the X on his forehead.

  “Nif’s name be praised,” they said as one.

  “You must hurry if you are to save the children and the others the Redthorns took,” the Elder said. His eyes pleaded as much as his tone.

  “Must?” repeated Saba in a stern voice.

  Frost scowled despite
knowing the dresdor was only playing a part. A quest line for freeing the captive villagers became available.

  “Sorry, sorry Lieutenant.” The Elder bowed several times. “No insult was intended. I just–”

  Saba waved him off. “Just be careful. Another lieutenant might not be as forgiving as I am.”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Amun dipped his head again. He swallowed. “If I may ask, is the rest of your company close behind?”

  “Not far,” Saba answered.

  “Praise Nif.” Elder Amun looked toward the heavens and drew an X over his heart.

  “I’m Saba.” The centaur gestured to Frost and Gilda. “This is Soldier Frost and Soldier Mordian. Do you know where the Redthorns went?”

  “Our last scout report said they took the captives north along Apep’s Belly, most likely headed to Marna in the Gerza Valley.”

  Frost lost his patience. “We’re also looking for two eradae who may have been here at the time of the raid: a scar-faced man with one horn and a young girl. A gurash was with them, one with marbled blue and green skin.”

  Immediately, Amun’s features became guarded. He shook his head. “I would remember a gurash outcast other than Umesh Madara, and an erada with one horn would stand out also. Sorry–”

  “You’re lying,” Gilda said.

  “I–” began Amun.

  “She’s my sister,” blurted Frost. “Help us, please.”

  Saba leaned down and whispered something into Amun’s ear. The Elder’s eyes opened wide. His face brightened for but a moment before his mouth downturned into sadness.

  “All three were here,” the Elder said. “The Redthorns captured them and mentioned that Umesh had been after Nebsamu for some time and would make him suffer a slow and painful death. A few hinted that the chance of taking Nebsamu had been the only reason for them to be around Soleb.”

  Frost sensed the bitterness in the reply. The hint of blame. “This Marna in the Gerza Valley. Where is it?”

  The Elder pointed to the mountains. “Head north until the end of Apep’s Belly. Follow the range until it curls back south into the valley. Marna sits up against those slopes.”