More murluk blows landed on me, though they were more sporadic now. The weight pressing against the creatures from their rear was too great for them to ignore anymore, and they swung around to face their attackers.
I began to dodge, parry, and weave in earnest, desperately trying to stay alive long enough for help to get through. But in the end, it wasn’t my own actions that saved me, or even the human fighters straining to reach me.
It was the murluks themselves.
The battle had reached its tipping point and the creatures had had enough. Throwing down their weapons, they turned and fled. Reaching deeper water, the murluks dove beneath the waves and took refuge in its depths.
I gasped in relief and fell to my knees. I’ll be damned, I thought, I actually survived. Swaying, I gave way to exhaustion and the encroaching darkness, then fell face first into the mud.
✽✽✽
Consciousness returned slowly.
Where am I? Waves slapped against my side. Still on the river shore, then. Water splashed on my face. I groaned.
“You hear that?” someone asked.
I didn’t recognise the voice. More water was thrown on my face. I sputtered feebly and tried to escape whoever tormented me, but couldn’t move. I was too weak.
“Is he alive?” the voice asked again.
“Of course he is alive, you idiot. Do you think dead men cough?”
My eyes were closed. Dear God, I’m tired. My body ached everywhere, and blood soaked my clothes and armour—much of it my own. Leave me alone, I wanted to scream at my tormentors, but couldn’t get the words out. Let me sleep.
I was certain I bled from a dozen cuts or more. I had no idea how I had kept fighting with those injuries, but now pain—and worse—shackled my body. I was dying, I suspected. I was too exhausted to care though. I just wanted to escape it all. I’m sorry, Mum. I tried.
“Who knows what he is! You saw what he did? Can men do that?” continued the first voice.
“Shut up, Sten. He’s just a kid. A human kid. Any fool can see that.”
“But you saw—”
“Enough!” growled the second voice, the whip of authority unmistakable in his voice. “One more word out of you and you’ll be on latrine duty for the rest of the week.”
I blew out an irritated breath. Why couldn’t these fools just leave me be?
“You hear that?” Sten muttered. “He’s making strange noises again. We shouldn’t be so close.”
The other ignored him. “Who is this fellow, Michael?” he asked in a low whisper. I sensed he was kneeling beside me. “You seemed to know him.”
“I don’t know, Sarge,” replied Michael. He was bent over me too. “Just some kid I met before the battle. Crippled. I felt sorry for him.”
Before the sergeant could reply, a disturbance drew the attention of the two men.
“What’s going on here, Lloyd?” demanded a voice I recognized as Tara’s. I felt the shadows of the two men fall over me as they rose to their feet and turned to face the stern fighter.
“It’s your fish, Tara,” Michael answered in the sergeant’s stead.
“My fish?” Tara asked. She dropped down by my side. “What happened?” she growled.
I winced. Even with me knocking on death’s door, I could sense she was displeased.
“I don’t know,” Lloyd answered. “You saw the disturbance on our flank? When the murluks aborted their charge?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. Whose fool idea was that? And which unit did we sacrifice to make it happen? I hope for your sake that wasn’t your idea, Lloyd. Because if it was, the old lady will have your head.”
Lloyd shook his head. “It was your boy here.”
“What?”
“He charged out of our lines and lured the murluks to him.” Lloyd paused, as if unable to believe his next words. “Then he held their attention for what must have been close on a minute. And he lived to tell the tale.”
“Impossible!” snapped Tara.
“What the cap’n says is true, Tara. We all saw it,” Michael said.
Tara fell silent for a moment. “Are you telling me,” she said, her voice scathing, “that this untrained boy, who can no more run than I can fly, and who less than an hour ago didn’t know one end of a spear from another, held the murluks at bay, all on his own? For a minute?” She laughed. “What do you two take me for?”
“It’s true, Tara,” Michael repeated stubbornly.
I sighed. I was still both alive and awake. It didn’t seem like I was going to go peacefully to my rest anytime soon. It was past time I entered the conversation.
Before Tara’s bites off their heads.
The pair had likely saved my life, after all, and they didn’t deserve a chewing out from Tara for that. Forcing my eyes open, I blinked them rapidly until Tara and the two men swam into focus.
“It’s true, Tara,” I croaked.
Tara’s hawk-eyed stare swung my way. “Jamie, you’re awake!” She frowned a moment later, realising what I had said. “What do you mean it’s true?”
I waved her closer until she leaned down over me, her face right up to mine. “I have a Technique,” I whispered so that only she could hear. “Invincible. It makes me impervious to damage. It’s why I didn’t start with a Clean Slate. Don’t tell anyone.”
Tara stared at me, her face expressionless. “Why didn’t you use it earlier?” she whispered back.
“Couldn’t,” I replied. “It can only be used once per day, and it only lasts thirty seconds.”
“Alright,” she said, leaning back. “We’ll talk more of it later. Rest now, our medic is on the way.” She squeezed my arm. “Oh, and thank you. You quite possibly saved us all today.” Patting my arm one more time, Tara stood up. “Sergeant Lloyd, have some food brought to him. Michael, go see what’s keeping the medic.”
Both men ran off to do her bidding. I tried to speak again, but Tara shushed me. Relieved that I was finally being allowed to rest, I tried to let myself fade back into darkness. But now that I had opened my eyes, sleep eluded me.
After a frustrated minute, I gave up on the idea of rest altogether. Straining with the effort, I raised my head and took stock of my surroundings. I saw that I had been dragged a few yards away from the lapping water but was still on the river’s lower banks. I craned my head in both directions, but didn’t catch sight of any murluks. It seemed the battle was over.
Thank God, I thought, letting my head fall back. To keep myself distracted from the pain spiking through my body, I turned my focus inwards to the Trials core. Another pile of messages had gathered. I scanned through them.
You have gained in experience and are now a: level 9 Neophyte.
Your vigour and agility have increased to: level 5.
Your strength has increased to: level 6.
Your constitution has increased to: level 10 and reached: rank 2, Trainee.
Your skills with spears and light armour have advanced to: level 10 and reached: rank 2, Trainee.
Alert: Trainee-ranked Attributes and Disciplines do not benefit from the newcomer buff or the accelerated learning rates applied at the Neophyte rank.
The learning rate of your Attribute: constitution, and your Disciplines: spears, and light armour, have decreased.
Not bad for an hour’s work, I thought. Already, I felt more capable of facing Overworld’s challenges. I still have no magic though. If I am going to—
I flinched as my side throbbed again from an errant twitch. Dismissing the Trials messages, I turned my attention to my injuries and cast analyse upon myself.
Your health pool is at: 24% of maximum.
I chuckled. I was not nearly as far gone as I had thought. While my health was low, and my wounds numerous, my condition appeared stable.
It seemed I was going to live.
Sergeant Lloyd returned. “Here, kid, eat this,” he said, dropping down next to me. “It
will restore your stamina. Until Nic bandages you up, I’m afraid this is the best we can do for you.”
Lloyd looked as fresh-faced as Tara and Michael, but if his words were anything to go by, he was no eighteen-year-old boy. I will have to stop judging people’s ages by their faces. For all I knew, Lloyd was in his sixties.
But I said none of that. “Thanks,” I rasped. I took the offered stick of dried meat and began to chew. Immediately, I felt the food’s restorative effects as my stamina began inching upwards.
A little later, Michael returned with another man. Unlike the others, the man was not dressed in armour, and carried only a large leather bag strapped across his back. “What do we have here, Tara?” asked the stranger.
“New recruit that needs bandaging. Doesn’t seem like he has suffered any serious injuries. Just exhaustion.”
The stranger bent over me. “Hi there. I’m Nicholas, and what passes for a medic on this world. Can I take a look at your wounds?”
“Sure, Doc,” I replied. “I’m Jamie.”
“I can’t claim to be a doctor, at least not anymore,” replied Nicholas absently as he began to inspect me. “I wish my old skills were still as useful, but without Earth’s technology they aren’t of much value on this world. It seems that, just like everyone else, I am going to have to learn the Overworld way of doing things.”
I nodded, understanding what he meant.
Nicholas finished his inspection, then sat back. “Your condition isn’t too bad. Your weakness is mostly from blood loss and exhaustion, which we can treat easily enough. Your wounds themselves aren’t severe. The slash across your back is the worst, but even that is only superficial.” Rifling through his bag, he pulled out some homemade bandages and a greenish paste.
“How long do you need, Nic?” Tara asked.
“Twenty minutes, tops,” promised Nicholas. “I’ll have him up and walking after that. Then he is all yours.”
Chapter 15
391 days until the Arkon Shield falls
The runes of the Elders are just one of the many mysteries of the Trials we hope to uncover. Although we know beyond doubt that the runes are how players are enhanced, not even our best minds have been able to duplicate their effect. —Taura Biaxal, svartalfar mystic.
Your health pool has increased to: 63%.
It took Nicholas only fifteen minutes to stitch and bandage all my wounds. The medic applied a liberal dose of the green paste to each of my cuts before he closed them up. The paste, Nicholas claimed, would speed up my healing and prevent infection.
I nodded my thanks to the healer, who hurried off as soon as he was done. No doubt other patients needed his attention.
“How are you feeling?” asked Tara. Everyone else had left, some to haul off the dead bodies, some to stand guard, and others to tend to chores that I could only guess at. I still knew nothing of this place, except that it seemed to be run with something akin to military discipline.
And Tara, whoever she is, seems to be near the top of the command structure. While the others had run off, my mentor had remained, waiting for me with folded arms and a tapping foot.
“Much better,” I replied, holding out my arm to her. With Tara’s help, I staggered to my feet. The medic had done good work. I was pain-free and no longer bled. Yet my wounds tingled with a not-altogether-pleasant numbness, and my limbs felt lethargic. I frowned. Was it the paste’s doing?
“It’ll pass,” Tara said when she saw my befuddled look. “Once the salve has done its work, your head will clear and your limbs will be back to normal.”
I glanced at her. “What’s in the paste?”
“I’m not sure,” Tara replied. “And I am not entirely certain Nic knows either. It was something he and the other healers learned to make early on.” She shrugged. “Whatever it is, it works. In an hour, you’ll find that your wounds have closed and no longer trouble you. But until then, you will be weak. Can you walk?”
I looked down at myself. My clothes were an unholy mess and dried blood caked my limbs, hair, and face. I must look awful, I thought. But I felt no twinge of pain as I took a tentative step. “I can,” I answered.
“Good,” Tara said. “Here, lean on my arm. We have to go see the old lady now. She will want to know more about this Technique of yours.”
“The old lady?”
“She’s the one in charge here,” Tara replied as we made our way back up the riverbank. She shot me a glance. “You will do well to tell her everything.”
That was not happening. At least, not until I knew more of what was going on here, and how far I could trust this ‘old lady.’ Tara, though, had earned the right to know more.
“I have not told you everything, Tara,” I said.
She threw me a wry look. “Somehow, I didn’t think you had. Ready to tell me now?”
I nodded. “I have magic,” I admitted.
Tara froze mid-step. “What?!” she exploded, dropping my arm and swinging around to face me.
Abruptly robbed of her support, I swayed and was momentarily at a loss to reply. A nearby pair of soldiers, hauling murluk corpses, stopped to turn and stare at us, but at a glare from Tara they hurried away.
She waited for them to go. “If you have magic,” she said, biting off each word, “why did you not use it?”
“Because I don’t have any magic,” I said carelessly.
Tara’s brows lowered ominously.
“Spells. I mean I don’t have any spells,” I amended hastily. “I have Magic Potential, but not the skill to use it yet.”
Tara stared at me for a moment before narrowing her eyes and scrutinising me anew. A strange tingling suffused my body. She was using analyse on me, I realised.
Wondering why I had not done so earlier, I cast analyse on her in turn.
The target is Tara Madison, a level 32 human player. She has no Magic, has exceptional Might, is gifted with Resilience, and has meagre Craft.
Her level was not as high as I’d expected, given the ease with which I had seen her dispatch the murluks.
“Meagre magical Potential,” Tara murmured. “Not as much as could be hoped for, but a darn sight better than anyone else around here.” Tara pinned me with her gaze again. “Why did you not tell me earlier, before the battle?”
I considered the smaller woman for a moment. How much truth did I owe her? “Because I wasn’t sure if I could trust you,” I said finally.
Tara scowled, clearly not considering my answer adequate. “You could have been killed, you idiot!” she exclaimed. “Don’t you realise what a precious resource you are? As a potential mage, you are far too valuable to risk in battle. You should have told me!”
“Don’t mistake me for one of your recruits, Tara,” I said softly. “I followed you in battle because I was willing to do my part. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I am not under your command.” I paused to make sure my words had sunk in. “I am my own player,” I continued. “With goals of my own. Don’t forget that.”
Tara met my gaze without blinking, her back stiff with anger. After a drawn-out moment, she expelled a heavy breath. “You’re right,” she said, shoulders sagging. “I apologise. My words were uncalled for. It’s just that… survival in this world has been harder than any of us expected. We are barely clinging on as it is.”
She sighed. “We can’t go on as we have for much longer. Something has to change, or everything we built here will be destroyed.” She glanced up at me again. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I saw only the cost to our people if you died.”
I didn’t say anything for a long while, mostly because I wasn’t sure what to say. I sympathised with their plight. I did. But earlier… I had nearly died with my stupid heroics. And if I had, who would avenge Mum? There must be thousands of humans in this settlement by now, all fighting for its survival. Yet, who was looking out for Mum?
Only me.
That moment on the shore, when I
was at death’s door, had reminded me of my priorities. Vengeance came first. I couldn’t let myself forget that again. Ever.
But I also knew I needed Tara and her people.
I could not survive Overworld on my own. Not yet. There was much I still had to learn of the Trials, humanity’s place in this world, and my magic. For the foreseeable future my place was here… in location seventy-eight.
I will stay—for now. And while I did, I would do everything I could to help.
“Tara,” I said quietly. “I am grateful for what you did for me today. I know I wouldn’t have survived without you. For as long as I remain in the settlement, you can count on my help. I can promise at least that much.”
Tara scrutinised my face, perhaps because my pledge was not as unconditional as she wished it. But she did not pursue the matter further. “Thank you, Jamie,” she said simply. She bent her arm under mine and we resumed our journey.
Still thinking about magic and what it would mean, I added, “Don’t place too much hope in me, Tara. We don’t know enough of Overworld’s magic yet. It—and I—might not be the solution to all your problems.”
“You’re right,” Tara said. She glanced at me. “I won’t betray your trust, Jamie. I will keep your invincible Technique a secret if you wish, but I urge you to tell the old lady. You can trust her.”
I chewed on Tara’s words. I had used the Technique in front of dozens of soldiers. People were bound to wonder and speculate, and eventually figure it out. It didn’t make sense to keep it a secret. “Alright. I’ll tell her.”
Tara smiled. “Thank you, Jamie.”
We reached the top of the upper bank and Tara let go of my arm. I hadn’t had much chance to study the area earlier, so I took a long look around.
Directly in front of me was the dragon temple, and behind it a huddle of tents, enough perhaps to house a few hundred people. Farther east, beyond the tented camp, was a forest. To the left and right was open grassland, although in the far north I spotted the hazy outline of what could be hills.
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