Forever Fantasy Online

by Rachel Aaron

  “Greetings, Elder of Windy Lake,” the gnoll said, the obsidian choker clamped around his throat flashing with each word.

  At the sound of his mechanized voice, several jubatus gasped and made warding gestures against evil, but Thunder Paw didn’t let that stop him. He just kept going, his barking yips clearly respectful even though the collar wasn’t sophisticated enough to copy that same tone into the auto-tuned words.

  “Me Thunder Paw, Chief of Chiefs of the Grand Pack. Me come before you today bearing gifts and desiring peace.”

  He waved at the wagons behind him, which gnolls were now pulling the covers off of to reveal the food and gifts packed inside. In the village, the jubatus’ ears pricked forward in attention. Even elder Gray Fang looked stunned, her carefully guarded expression lost to surprise as she stared at the old gnoll’s death-magic-riddled collar.

  “You can speak?” she said at last.

  “Me have always been able to speak,” Thunder Paw said gruffly. “Now, Me can speak your tongue as well. A ‘gift’ from my former masters.” He touched the void-black ring fixed around his throat. “But they are defeated! Now, Me wish to use this collar to end our struggles. Many enemies are coming. If you will hear us out, we will speak of peace and cooperation against them.”

  Gray Fang snapped her hanging jaw shut as she tried to process what he’d just said. James couldn’t blame her for taking a while. They’d dropped quite the bomb on the old cat, and in front of the entire village, no less. She was clearly still disgusted by the gnoll in front of her, but James was hoping that age and wisdom would overcome her prejudices. As the elder’s face twisted again, though, he realized he’d guessed wrong. Really, he should have known. Jubatus always seemed to react to surprises with anger or violence, particularly when stressed. Thankfully, he’d planned ahead for just this sort of situation.

  “The gift,” he hissed at Thunder Paw. “Give her the gift!”

  Thunder Paw gave him an uncertain look, and James motioned frantically. This was no time to hold back. If they didn’t want this peace process to crumble less than thirty seconds after it began, they needed to use their ace now. Thankfully, Thunder Paw followed him once again, pulling a small parcel out of his belt pouch and walking forward to unwrap it practically in the elder’s face.

  Gray Fang’s guards brandished their weapons, but the elder stopped them with a wave of her claws, her slitted eyes growing wide as she saw the delicate crystal vial filled with brilliant, rainbow-colored liquid in the gnoll chieftain’s paws.

  “We present you with this gift as a symbol of our interest in friendship,” Thunder Paw said, holding the pan-elixir out to her. “May it be the first of many good acts between us.”

  Gray Fang’s hands shook as she reached out to take the small bottle. “A pan-elixir,” she said, her voice astonished. “How did you…?”

  “It is a trophy taken from the laboratory of the defeated lich,” Thunder Paw said proudly, lifting his pointed snout high. “We wish for there to be healing between our two peoples. Would that it be as easy as drinking this potion.”

  James bit back a grin at Thunder Paw’s flawless delivery. He and the old Naturalist hadn’t just yakked about lightning magic during the ride over. Rare to all but the wealthiest high-end raiders, a pan-elixir was a literal miracle in a bottle, which made it the gnolls’ best shot at breaking through the wall of the jubatus’ prejudice. No one could turn down a gift like that, and Gray Fang was no exception. She was already staring at the shifting colors inside the bottle as if they were the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. She might have stood there spellbound forever had Ar’Bati not cleared his throat.

  Gray Fang recovered at once, clutching the vial to her chest as she looked back down at the waiting Thunder Paw. “It is a great gift, indeed,” she said, clearly struggling to find the words. “As the spiritual leader of the jubatus clans of the savanna, I, Gray Fang, offer you hospitality. We will hear what you have to say.”

  This raised a new round of gasps from the crowd behind her but not nearly so many hisses. Now that it was obvious the newcomers weren’t going to attack, lots of villagers were shooting keen looks at the gnolls’ food-laden wagons. They still weren’t welcoming looks, but greed was a lot better than murderous hate, and James was happy to take it.

  “Ar’Bati,” the elder said, turning back to her grandson, who was puffed up with pride. “Escort our guests to the festival field so that they may make camp.”

  The head warrior nodded and motioned for the wagons to follow him. As they creaked forward, James let out a breath of relief. He was stepping up to walk beside Thunder Paw when Gray Fang put out her hand.

  “Not you.”

  James froze, looking up to see the elder glaring at him. “You are not welcome here.”

  The words sent a spike through his chest. James shot a pleading look at Ar’Bati as the warrior was leading the gnolls away, but any hopes that he’d finally gotten somewhere with the warrior died when Ar’Bati refused to meet his eyes. He just flicked his ears at James and kept walking, leaving him standing alone with Gray Fang.

  James’s ears flattened in response. After everything they’d been through, the betrayal was crushing. At this point, the only leverage he had left was the bundle of enemy communications in his backpack. The letters he’d stolen from the lich contained vital information about the Once King’s coming invasion of Bastion, and the jubatus of the savanna were famously loyal to the king. She might kick him out on his tail to walk to Bastion on his own, but Gray Fang wouldn’t kill him so long as he knew what he knew.

  At least, that was what James told himself. To be honest, the idea of trekking across the savanna just so he could start all over with a new set of prejudiced, hateful non-player characters was the most depressing situation he could think of. His whole body wilted as he imagined brandishing the lich’s letters in front of new murderous faces to save his life, but from the way the jubatus were glaring at him, it was clear he couldn’t stay here.

  As unwelcome as he clearly was, though, James wasn’t willing to let this go just yet. Not after all the pain and trouble he’d gone through to save these ungrateful cats, and definitely not after the total victory he’d helped bring about. He might not be able to stop them from running him out of town, but dammit, James was going to know why.

  “What happened here?” he said, turning to face Gray Fang properly. “I kept my end of our bargain, but it seems I’m the only one. Does breaking your promise to let me petition to join the clans have something to do with that?”

  He pointed at the dead bodies the village had hung out to dry on poles, but Gray Fang didn’t even flinch.

  “A group of five players came into our village shortly after you left yesterday,” she said, her voice hard. “They announced that they were now the rulers of Windy Lake, and any who opposed them would die. They demanded tribute, servants, and women. We tried to fight them but were badly outmatched. Thankfully, our lost ones returned, and we were able to overwhelm them at last. But the losses were heavy and have made for a sad reunion.”

  Her ears fell as she spoke, making the gray-furred elder look even older than usual. Then her fists clenched tight. “This is why we will not tolerate your kind anymore!” she hissed, her eyes popping up to meet his with a look of pure hate. “You are all evil! Horrible children trapped in the bodies of gods! You have proven yourselves again and again to be selfish, greedy, wanton, immoral creatures, and my people have been the ones to suffer! Our only hope of survival is to kill any players on sight before you destroy us with your madness!”

  “But we aren’t all the same!” James said angrily, offended despite knowing better. “I’ve never attacked you or hurt anyone here! I just spent two days risking my life for you!”

  “We can never forget that you are not jubatus!” she snarled. “You possess that body like an evil spirit, but you will never truly be one of us!”

  James clenched his fangs, glaring at the bodies ac
ross the water. There had been other players alive in the savanna, and they’d acted like utter idiots. If only he’d been able to stay in Windy Lake a little longer, he could have met them, maybe convinced them not to try to conquer the town like power-drunk morons. If nothing else, he wouldn’t be so alone. But he was. He was alone, and the one place that might have offered him the closest thing he could hope for to a home in this mad world was gone forever. And it was all their fault.

  They are better off now, whispered the staff in his hands. In death, they can’t ruin anything else.

  He felt the voice’s attention shift to the crowd of jubatus, almost as if the staff were turning its head.

  You should send the others to join them. The only way to break the cycle of hatred here is for everyone to share the same fate.

  Magic stirred in his hands, reminding him he was far more powerful now than he’d been the last time he’d been face-to-face with Gray Fang.

  You should teach them what it means to betray you.

  For a terrible second, James was sorely tempted. He was ten times stronger than those low-level idiots who’d nearly conquered the town. Why should he keep the gloves on if the jubatus were going to be honorless scum who broke their promises and spat on the feet of the man who’d risked his life to save theirs?

  You should wipe them out, the staff suggested. The living always betray you, but the dead are at peace. These people have already made it clear they’re incapable of listening to reason. Why let them betray anyone else? You’re a hero, aren’t you? Save them from themselves. End their suffering, and you will end your own.

  Growling under his breath, James turned around and banged the stupid cursed staff on a rock to shut it up. When he looked up again, Gray Fang was staring at him in horror. He didn’t know if she’d felt the dark magic of the staff or if he’d actually been standing there talking to himself throughout that entire exchange, and he didn’t particularly care. James was sick and tired of trying to help nasty, angry cats who kept biting him.

  “Fine,” he told Gray Fang, hefting the bag full of precious letters back onto his shoulder. “Just let me say goodbye to Thunder Paw, and I’ll be out of your fur.”

  The elder nodded stiffly, and James turned to go, but before he’d taken two steps, the crowd began to whisper, and James looked up to see two muscular jubatus pushing their way to the front. It was Ar’Bati and an older but equally tall and tough-looking male. Gray Fang shifted uncomfortably at their arrival, but the new jubatus ignored her, grinning at James instead.

  “What are you doing, Gray Fang?” the newcomer asked. “What’s this about sending him away? We should be begging him to join us!”

  “I am against it,” Gray Fang said without hesitation. “He is a player.”

  The jubatus man turned to give the elder a very not-nice grin. The expression highlighted all the scars hidden by his fur, and James blinked in surprise. The old cat looked like he’d been in a hundred battles and was looking to fight a hundred more. When Ar’Bati’s face split into the exact same expression, James finally saw the family resemblance.

  “Your objection is noted,” Ar’Bati’s father said sarcastically. “But this isn’t your call.” He turned his grin on James. “My son has told me of this one’s deeds. They are most impressive! We Claw Born wish to sponsor and adopt James…” The tall jubatus scowled. “What’s your full name, kid?”

  “James Anderson,” James said quickly.

  “—wish to sponsor and adopt James Anderson into our clan,” the patriarch said proudly, clapping James on the back.

  James didn’t think it was possible for Gray Fang to look more horrified, but the old woman managed it somehow.

  “Adopt?”

  “Of course adopt!” the elder Claw Born replied, grinning so widely that James could see every single one of his terrifyingly sharp teeth. “We’ll be writing songs of his accomplishments for generations! The other clans don’t yet appreciate how valuable James is, though with that said…” The scarred jubatus put his arm around James’s shoulder and leaned in until they were whiskers to whiskers. “I could pay the Water Born to adopt you if you wanted to, say, marry my eldest daughter, Lilac. You saved her life, so it’d be a most appropriate reward for your deeds and get you started off real well here. I shouldn’t say so myself, but my Lilac’s a catch.”

  “Father,” Ar’Bati hissed as James began coughing to cover his surprise and alarm. He didn’t want to offend his savior, but he’d never even met Lilac while she was conscious, and there was no way he was getting married to someone who was being offered as a literal trophy wife. Worse, a trophy wife doomed to be some kind of half-widow after he found a way back home.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t accept a marriage,” he said, thinking fast. “I’m, uh, already promised to someone back home.”

  “Oh yeah?” The scarred cat’s ears swiveled suspiciously. “What’s her name?”

  “Jiujitsu.”

  “Fancy-sounding name,” the elder Claw Born said, scratching his salt-and-pepper fur. “What family is she from?”

  “Brazil,” James said, hoping the old cat wouldn’t see him sweating. Fortunately, Ar’Bati’s father looked more annoyed than insulted.

  “Hrmph, what’s so good about her? Can’t you ditch her for my daughter?”

  James shook his head, carrying the lie as far as he could. “I’m absolutely devoted. She’s an incredible warrior. Taught me how to fight when I was growing up.”

  “Fair enough,” the old man said, squeezing his arm almost threateningly around James’s shoulders. “At least we’ll have ties to this Brazil warrior clan to look forward to in the future! Marriage would have been better, but adoption will be good enough.” He squeezed so hard, James’s joints creaked. “Welcome to the family!”

  “Ahem,” Gray Fang said, clearing her throat pointedly. “My word is still no.”

  “Ehh? What was that?” said James’s possible-new-father. “You set this trial up yourself, Gray Fang. I know because I was there when you came out of the lodge. You told me you were sending this pair to save my baby girl. Now the trial’s done successfully, and the witness has vouched for him.” He glanced at Ar’Bati, who nodded, and his father turned back to Gray Fang with a wide grin. “Looks like everything here is green grasses to me. And just so you know, I had to outbid the other three clans to get first pick on this boy, so good luck getting them to side with you.” He chuckled. “Looks like you’re outvoted.”

  Gray Fang’s hackles rose, and James worried for a moment that she was going to try to claw the scarred old man. Then her shoulders slumped, making her look frail and tired again. “You win, Rend,” she said, turning her back on him. “But he and his kind will be a curse upon your head. The Claw Born will regret this day. Mark my words.”

  “You’re a Claw Born too, you know!” Rend called after her as Gray Fang walked stiffly back into the village. Then to cement his apparent victory, Ar’Bati’s father turned to the remaining onlookers and grabbed James’s wrist. “Behold!” he cried, thrusting James’s arm into the air. “This James is now of the Claw Born!”

  There were only some polite claps in response as the crowd broke up and drifted back into the village. But if the lack of enthusiasm bothered James’s new adopted father, he didn’t show it.

  “I always wanted another son,” he said, slapping James hard on the back. “Come on, boys. Let’s go celebrate!”

  That was the best suggestion James had heard all day, but there was something he wanted to sort out before moving on. “Can we catch up in a minute? I need to ask Fangs something.”

  Rend’s scarred face twisted into a sour expression. “All right,” he said, letting go of James at last. “Just be quick about it. I need to show you off!”

  “It won’t take long,” James promised. When the senior Claw Born finally nodded and headed back into the village, James punched Fangs in the Grass right in the arm. “Dude! Why didn’t you tell me what you were up to? I thought I
was totally screwed when you left me hanging with Gray Fang!”

  This earned him a bruising punch in return. “I did not leave you hanging! I very clearly flicked my ears at you!”

  “So? Jubatus ears twitch all the time! How was I supposed to know that one was special?”

  “You spent eighty years pretending to be one of us and you don’t know that flicking ears means being in cahoots?” Fangs asked, horrified. “Anyway, what else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t openly defy Grandmother in front of half the village! I had to leave you so I could get to my father before she suspected I wasn’t on her side!”

  Then the warrior punched James in the arm again.

  “Ow!” James cried, clutching the now very large bruise with a wince. “What was that for?”

  “For calling me dude,” Ar’Bati replied, nose in the air. “You’re my brother now, but don’t think you can be so informal. Familiar names like ‘dude’ or ‘man’ are only for best friends, wives, and children. Using them casually like that makes you sound like a Schtumple conman.”

  James’s world screeched to a halt at those words. Not all of them, just the “you’re my brother now” part. He’d known Rend Claw Born was Ar’Bati’s father, but it wasn’t until the head warrior himself had said it that the new reality finally dawned on James.

  “You’re my brother,” he said, looking at Ar’Bati with a mix of awe and horror.

  “I am,” Fangs said, straightening up to his full height so he could loom menacingly over James. “And you’re a Claw Born now. You don’t know what that means yet, but there are two things you must learn here and now before you get yourself—or me—killed.” A pair of claws was flicked out perilously close to James’s face. “One! Be respectful of everyone at all times, and never give insult. Our whole family will have to deal with it if you do. Two! Do not embarrass us. Don’t think for a second that your life is more important than the honor of our clan. If you bring us shame, we will take it out of your hide!”