by Kevin Murphy
“Go right ahead. It’s in the throne room,” said Dakkon pointing toward the interior of the castle. “If it’s all the same to you, we need to find an inn, some supplies, and take a break. Do you know where the closest town might be? My maps have proven to be a little less than reliable out here.”
Velana stared at Dakkon, her piercing gaze boring through him as she weighed his unexpected haste to leave. As she did so, she twisted the tip of her one braid between the forefingers of her left hand until she’d decided what to say. “There’s a village directly northeast a few days’ walk from here. If you head north, you’ll come across a road that should take you there. There’s also a westerly village that’s much closer, but I would avoid heading in that direction, were I you—something powerful hunts those woods.”
Cline gulped for the second time in their encounter. “But that’s the way we came from,” he said.
Velana shrugged. “I came the same way, too. Still, I wouldn’t have had I known, and I shant tempt fate by trekking back through again—even if it costs me a few extra days of travel time.”
Perhaps it was her demeanor, her reputation, or the way she climbed the side of a cliff with ease while wearing an excessively large backpack, but Velana had the air of someone who was a great deal more than capable. The idea that she was worried sent a shiver down Dakkon’s spine.
“Ahem. Well, we don’t have Jinx to guide us anymore,” Cline said. “I guess we’d better try northeast?”
Velana nodded. “I can’t make any guarantees to your safety that way, either. Still, it beats certain death.” Then, done talking, she turned to the castle and started to casually walk forward, casting a barely visible hand up over her pack and right shoulder to bid farewell.
“Good luck, Velana,” Dakkon called as he registered her to his friends list for easy communication in the future. “Let me know when you’ve got a buyer!”
Dakkon was more-than-mildly relieved to see that she had added him as well.
“Well, bud, what now?” Cline said.
“Northeast, I suppose,” said Dakkon as they both began walking in that direction.
“How are we supposed to get down the cliffside here?” Cline asked.
“I’m more worried about how we’re going to climb up the big one on the side of the valley,” Dakkon said. “We could take the Jinx way down for now—just jump, knock a limb out of socket, then walk it off as we heal.”
Cline looked less than pleased with the suggestion. He opened his bag and took out his remaining 20 meters of rope which he began to tie together at their ends.
“Fair enough. It’s a bit less fun, but our ankles will thank us,” Dakkon said. “I’ll whip us up something to tie that to.”
After a minute of Cline tying ropes, Dakkon had built and reinforced a post made of ice for them to attach the rope to. After affixing the rope to the ice post, they repelled down the side of the cliff one after the other, disappearing into the canopy below. The trees were, indeed, taller than Dakkon had guessed. He was glad they had taken the slow way down. When at the bottom, Dakkon warmed a hotspot he had placed at the center of the post, melting it in record time—allowing Cline to retrieve his rope by pulling it over the edge then fighting a few tree branches where it had snagged.
Dakkon decided it was a very good thing for them that their destination was so general in direction because the forest which surrounded the plateau proved to be thick and maze-like. It almost felt enchanted—like an additional, magic layer of defense conjured to prevent interlopers from ever reaching the castle which had been raised above the forest’s center. Dakkon dismissed that notion, however, otherwise Velana wouldn’t have been able to find them. Still, navigating these woods spoke volumes as to her skill as a navigator.
Rather than seeking out the best path, the pair decided that they’d simply walk onward until they hit the large, surrounding rock wall which they had been searching for. After scaling the wall, they could use the sun or the castle to reorient themselves for the journey ahead.
As they walked through the woods, they came across three areas filled with giant cotton-like swaths of silky white fiber strewn between several fully-sized tree trunks. Avoiding these spots were the one concession that they made to following their straight trajectory to the wall, and after only a few detours to bypass them, they had arrived at the tall rockface.
Getting from the bottom of the cliff to the top was tricky in its own right, but Dakkon had an ability suitable for trivializing such obstacles—providing they had the time to wait around. Climbing in Chronicle, as Dakkon had found out first hand, was both difficult and tiring. Luckily, they could keep the game of balancing their endurance to a minimum by creating sturdy ice platforms which Cline could affix his portable staircase to. Though the method was immediately effective, Dakkon still saw fit to add a little stabilizing guard rail alongside each placement of the Stairs of Stijgen beyond the third platform. Not only would falling down be a horrible waste of their time, but it could prove fatal.
After an incredibly slow ascent from the bottom of a canyon to its top, the light of day had begun to abandon them once again. Now on higher ground, they found themselves surrounded by yet another dense forest. This one, they were certain, held predators that would be glad to hunt them during the night. They could choose to attempt pushing through at feeding time or they could take the time to wait until morning.
It wasn’t long before they came to their decision. They weren’t on a particularly tight schedule and Dakkon had a mind to make sure his good friend didn’t take an excessive number of unnecessary risks. It also gave Dakkon the chance to do something he’d been itching to try but had never had an excuse to. He set to building an igloo.
Early into the process, it was clear that whatever it was that Dakkon was constructing—it was no igloo. An igloo implied a certain degree of engineering. They were designed to help trap heat and provide some shelter from the elements. What Dakkon had built was an ice fort—or rather, a pile of ice that was hollow in the middle with an entrance. Time and chance would tell whether or not it would hold up to an assault, but—cosmetics aside—it did seem fairly sturdy. Unlike an igloo, Dakkon had the ability to blast his creation with extra layers of water which he could freeze to make layer upon reinforcing layer. Unfortunately, Dakkon didn’t know how to make the inside very comfortable. They simply didn’t have enough layers of clothes to keep their body heat from leeching out into the ice and melting it.
For players, sleeping in Chronicle may have been wholly unnecessary, but it did serve a purpose. It could be used as a mechanism to ‘skip’ time when there was truly nothing else to be done. Normally, Dakkon would spend his spare time training his magic, but there was no place for fire magic within a dome of ice and illuminating the dome would only serve to draw attention to them. So, he decided to experiment with virtual sleep.
The next morning, both Dakkon and Cline awoke wet but safe. Once they’d climbed out of their eyesore of an ice bunker, they decided it was best to use the daylight they’d been given to its fullest. Using the bearing of the castle and the morning sun, they determined the way that they’d be cutting through the woods.
Had it been any less dense, Dakkon would have conjured up his horse to charge through the woods ahead, but despite Nightshade’s considerable talent for navigating wooded terrain, he knew the horse cared more about speed than keeping a rider on its back. Dakkon suspected that adding a second rider would only increase Nightshade’s attempts to narrowly shave past trees.
“What do you say we just walk in a straight line no matter what?” Dakkon asked of Cline. “I know it’s not really that easy in the woods, but it’s the best I can think of.”
Cline shook his head. “I may not have the instincts of a wolf, but I’m pretty good at trailblazing. If we’re just moving north by northeast, then I can get us there, no problem.”
Dakkon nodded. In games where pathfinding wasn’t spoon-fed to the player, rangers usuall
y had a reputation for being the best at finding their way around. Until then, Cline really hadn’t had a chance to display his talents. Now, however, they were confidently traveling toward a vague destination—just the sort of task where a ranger could shine.
Unlike their first trek through the woods and without the warnings of Jinx to slow them, Cline had full control of where and how they moved. They didn’t stop for anything. They kept a pace just shy of jogging as they cut and zig-zagged through the trees. Dakkon soon fell into step with Cline, placing his feet precisely where his friend had just tread. After minutes of travel, Dakkon realized he’d been moving faster and for longer than should have been possible. He was surprised to find his endurance points weren’t dropping at all. Rather than succumbing to fatigue due to his pace, Dakkon felt energized.
As Dakkon became more comfortable with the task of imitating his ranger friend, the pair’s speed continued to increase until they were both running without pause through dense forest. The concentration and dexterity required would have made the feat impossible for a full party to do—and Dakkon was certain he couldn’t have achieved such speeds through a densely wooded area on horseback. He was beginning to understand the allure of playing a Ranger.
Then, suddenly, the dense forest sprawl came to its end. The bright mid-morning sky greeted them and their pace slowed. For a time, Dakkon kept trying to follow in his friend’s steps as he had through the forest, but whatever magic had invigorated him was no longer in effect. Running, again, caused his endurance to rapidly drain.
Once Dakkon no longer had the energy to keep going, they stopped to eat scraps which they’d packed away from their feast after completing the tower of trials. There had been little remaining cloth to package the foodstuff, so the most promising items—apples, pears, something vaguely mango-like, and hardened loaves of bread—had been bruised or otherwise squished during their short travel. There had been no trail provisions at the table, and they didn’t try to package anything that had been cooked soft. It was clear that if they didn’t find a town soon, they’d have more pressing needs than a new map.
After they’d eaten their meal, Dakkon spoke the command word ‘Daedarah’ while thinking of his mount—invoking his Equis Medallion to summon Nightshade. Prepared as he was for the theatrics of his horse arriving in a torrent of light, Dakkon wasn’t ready for Nightshade to storm into the area at a full gallop. The horse stopped as abruptly as it could, sliding to a halt, then turned to Dakkon and reared back on its hind legs.
“Woah,” Dakkon said, almost as surprised as his horse seemed to be. “I guess I caught you in the middle of something?” Dakkon held his hands up to calm his mount, speaking gently to sooth the creature, though he knew his horse couldn’t understand. “So, you can be barreling along on the other side and that’ll transfer to here, huh? I guess I never really gave any thought to what was on the other side…”
Nightshade stamped its feet hotly, clearly unhappy given the situation.
“Looks like he doesn’t want to be here,” Cline said. “Maybe we should leave him be for now?”
Dakkon shrugged and watched as Nightshade shook its head wildly and snorted its indignation in an uncharacteristic tantrum.
“Fine, fine,” Dakkon said, picking up the Equis Medallion to send Nightshade back. “Next time I summon you, though, we’re gonna have some words. You’d better get ready to work!”
“Aedarah,” Dakkon spoke the command word to send his horse back to wherever it had been running. The medallion was a disc of metal bisected by two perpendicular bars which met at its center like an ‘X.’ While activating the trinket, Dakkon held it by its top and bottom poles. This time, he failed to check its true orientation. In an instant, the white light which he had expected to shepherd his horse away, took Cline away, instead.
Panicking, Dakkon sought to undo what he’d just done—attempting to immediately pull Cline back from the aether. “Daedarah!” he yelled while thinking of his friend. Much to his relief, Cline appeared again, wide-eyed and panting.
“Cline! I’m sorry!” Dakkon apologized quickly. “Are you all right?”
“I’ve… I’ve…” Cline said, seeming lost for words. He shook his head as if to clear it, then began again. “I’ve…”
“What’s the matter?” Dakkon asked.
“I’ve never…” Cline trailed off again.
“You’ve never, what?” Dakkon was concerned for his friend.
“I’ve never seen… so many horses,” Cline said, finally as he regained some control of his faculties.
“Huh?” Dakkon asked. “You saw… horses?”
Nightshade, impatiently huffed once again. The horse shook his head in agitation. He was still waiting to be sent back. Dakkon spoke the keyword to send his horse back while Cline recovered enough to elaborate.
“Thousands,” Cline said after a brief stint of rubbing at his eyes. “It was beautiful there… rolling hills, tributaries… but, there were more horses than I’ve ever seen of anything. I was only there for a few seconds, but they seemed pretty unhappy to have me there. At least a hundred started running toward me—I think they might’ve been trying to trample me.”
“The pocket dimension… so it’s more than just a place to store a mount?” Dakkon wondered aloud. He had assumed the item created a little localized stasis space where his horse rested while waiting to be summoned. Between Nightshade coming out running and what Cline had just witnessed, he’d clearly guessed wrong. “What?”
The item’s description suggested that Dakkon might be able to use the medallion to store more animals than just Nightshade, but he certainly hadn’t thought that the space might already be filled-to-bursting with horses. More than that, he was most surprised to find out that the game would let him send people there.
“Cline,” Dakkon said. “Can you remember precisely what any of those horses looked like?”
“Hmm, there were so many of them…” Cline said.
“Do you think you can try sending me there then immediately pulling me back?” Dakkon asked.
“Uhh,” Cline said, looking uneasy. “Are you sure you really want to—”
“Definitely!” Dakkon yelled enthusiastically, handing his medallion to Cline then explaining how to use it. After a moment, Dakkon held up his hands “Wait! Let me try to take something and leave it there!” Dakkon picked up a nearby twig and held it against his chest. “All right, do it!”
Cline looked pale, but he did as his friend asked. With a shaky hand, Cline pointed the cross of the medallion directly at Dakkon and said the word, “Aedarah.” Despite what looked to be a proper activation, nothing happened.
“What’s wrong?” Dakkon asked, then pointed the twig at Cline. “Try again!”
“Aedarah,” Cline said again. “… hmm. It doesn’t seem to work.”
Dakkon walked up to Cline and took back the Equis Medallion. “Nightshade always comes back saddled up—I don’t know how I could have been so blind. We might be onto something big here—extraplanar storage! At the very least I’m going to need to buy that horse some proper saddle bags.” Dakkon faced the medallion toward his friend, then handed Cline the twig. “Try to drop this on the other side, pick up anything you can, and memorize how a horse looks.”
“What?” Cline said. “How long are you sending me there for? I don’t really—” Then, after a brief flash of light, Cline was gone.
After only a few seconds, Dakkon summoned his friend back.
“Thousands… maybe tens of thousands?” Cline babbled. “Not dirt, though… lush and green… visibility for miles… horses everywhere.”
“Cline?” Dakkon said, growing slightly concerned that whatever sort of multi-dimensional teleportation the little medallion facilitated may have had some sort of psychological side effect that he’d failed to predict.
“Huh? Oh,” Cline said pulling himself back to his senses. He looked at Dakkon and opened up his clenched palm, revealing a cluster of freshly ripped
-up grass. He no longer held a twig in his hands. Though the experience had been less than smooth, Cline had managed to transfer items from one space to another even without them being attached to a horse. It was something they could certainly exploit with a bit more testing provided that the negative effects of travel were only temporary.
“Good job, man!” Dakkon praised his friend. “Did you memorize the pattern of a horse?”
Cline nodded his head and his teeth chattered. He let out an involuntary shiver as though he were amidst the chill winds of a frozen tundra.
“Are you okay?” Dakkon asked.
“Y-y-yeah,” Cline said. The shivering chill had set upon him suddenly and only several seconds after he’d been warped. Dakkon would need to monitor how Cline recovered before entertaining any thoughts of sending him back.
“Here,” Dakkon said, handing his friend the Equis Medallion. “Think of that horse while you activate this and try to summon it over here.”
Cline looked less than enthusiastic to take the medallion, but he, too, understood the potential power they’d begun to flirt with. Cline’s shaking hand gripped the talisman then turned it to open space. “Daedarah,” he said. With another flash of light, a beautiful tan and white mare appeared before them.
The mare’s serenity vanished after only a second of being transplanted. The panicked animal lifted up and stamped down her front legs violently as she turned around in circles, trying to assess what was happening to her. It wasn’t long before the rampaging animal had set its sights on the two of them, and the horse charged in their direction.
“Oh crap!” Dakkon shouted. “Send it back!”
Cline fumbled with the Equis Medallion but managed to send the horse back before any damage could be done, then he fell to his backside on the ground, sighing loudly.
“Dakkon,” Cline said. “I’m done experimenting with the amulet now.”
Dakkon understood where his friend was coming from. Between the shivers and shakes, the disorientation, and the rampaging angry horses he had experienced a rather unsavory few minutes—but they were on the cusp of something much greater. The ability to hide and store items in some sort of—possibly—interdimensional space was a game changer.
