Call of Destiny

by Adams, P R

  “Of course, of course.” The old man shook his head just enough for Riyun to see.

  Whatever argument the two might have over why the dragons hadn’t burned the region to the ground could be resolved while they walked, although the idea of the place surviving centuries was curious. Surviving what?

  Riyun waved the rest of the team to the hilltop and had Javika describe the course that lay ahead.

  Once they were underway, he matched pace with the old wizard and Naru. It didn’t take long for Alush to disappear in the fog.

  Fassyl snorted. “See how he comes and goes, as if no one else matters.”

  “I’d prefer not having to rely on him.” Riyun watched the young hacker for her reaction.

  She frowned. “He’s still dealing with this strange life he was dragged into.”

  “He told you this?”

  “He’s just as confused by some of the things going on as we are. Prophecy can only go so far.”

  Riyun looked away, trying to hide his surprise. She really was making connections with the drone-prophet. “What else has he told you?”

  She seemed to sink in on herself slightly. “Not much. The way everything is diverging from what he knows of the future really has him rethinking a lot.”

  “Like…?”

  “Well, like what other things that should have gone a certain way haven’t.”

  “You mean, like the history he predicted? Or doesn’t he know what has happened since…?” Riyun twisted around to tilt his head at the wizard. “Did he die a long time ago?”

  The old wizard cleared his throat. “Assuming this truly is Alush, yes. Centuries ago. Many centuries ago.”

  “And his prophecies? Did they come true?”

  “In the manner of prophecies, I suppose you could say they did. Some.”

  Riyun glanced back at the others. He wanted to call Quil forward to get his thoughts, but the pseudo’s resentment toward Naru was going to be a problem. One of the biggest challenges of being a leader was balancing egos and objectives. It was like a mantra for Riyun to chant to himself. Every team member offered something, and a part of being human was suffering slights—real and imagined. When possible, it was best to let things work themselves out. But when the mission was imperiled, intervention was necessary.

  Did the moment really require Quil’s input? Probably not. If things dragged on, Riyun would act as mediator between the two. Naru had proven a much more valuable resource than he had ever expected, but that didn’t mean she could run roughshod over the pseudo’s feelings.

  Real or imagined. Naru hadn’t acted improperly, not as far as he could tell.

  Unless he was misinterpreting the source of Quil’s hurt?

  No. That didn’t seem likely.

  And it wasn’t worth exploring at the moment. “What was this about Prom…?”

  The fat wizard chuckled. “Prominsk?”

  “What about it?”

  “A legend. Nothing with any substance.”

  From the way Naru frowned, she must have tried to ask about the legend as well. Riyun needed answers, even if it was a silly legend. “If it was brought up, maybe there’s something of value to it.”

  “Or maybe the contraption seeds chaos.” Fassyl chewed on his beard and muttered to himself. “I didn’t see you as one to believe in legends.”

  “I try to keep an open mind.”

  “I see. Well, this one is particularly silly. People of this region speak of an ancient creature by that name.”

  “A creature. Like the dragons?”

  “Some say. It lives at the bottom of the inland sea, which happens to share the same name.”

  “Which came first?”

  “That would be part of the trouble: Many say the creature did, others the sea.”

  Naru winced. “That’s a fairly common problem in a lot of…”

  Stories. Riyun nodded. “What do we know about it?”

  The old wizard grumbled softly, then sighed. “It has wings as powerful as the greatest storm, and it’s long—like a snake—but has a narrow, lizard snout.”

  “That sounds a lot like a dragon.”

  “A different one, perhaps. And this one is supposedly capable of breathing something deadly: a poisonous fog thick as we walk through now. No doubt, it’s a means of explaining away the barbaric nomads who prey upon the locals and merchants.”

  It did make sense to create legends of that nature to explain away shameful things. “So they claim a dragon protects them?”

  “Conveniently, only from certain threats. And it’s a special dragon. It can breathe not only the deadly fog, but lightning. And it’s equally at home under the water as in the sky.”

  “That does sound a little…”

  “Far-fetched?”

  “But—” Naru brushed a strand of hair from her eye. “—that doesn’t make sense. Everywhere else, the stories are the same? Shared cultural experience should lead to a consistent set of legends.”

  The wizard snorted. “Indeed they should. But wait! You have yet to hear about the biggest difference, which happens to also be the most important!” The old man’s brown teeth turned his grin hideous.

  Riyun rubbed the carbine barrel. “What’s that?”

  “No one has ever seen Prominsk.”

  “Then…how does anyone know what it looks like?”

  “Dreams. Ancient shrines crafted by inhuman hands. They truly have thought this through.”

  “I see. And this legend goes back how far?”

  “As the prophet said: centuries. And even the bandits of the hills avoid the city for the most part. Oh, certainly, in desperate times they will raid this far southeast, but they fear retribution from the terrifying protector.”

  Riyun was reassured by Naru’s confused look. At least he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t make sense of the old man’s behavior. “Why are you so hostile to this idea?”

  “Because it fails to stand up to the rigors of thorough examination.” The wizard’s features darkened.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes!” Fassyl’s lips twisted. “No!”

  He wanted to talk but seemed to be wrestling with something. Riyun focused on his stride and on the ground slowly being revealed by the dissipating mist. Clumps of scraggly, brown grass grew in areas, while in others the soil was an ugly, brown mud. There was a hint of the sea to the air.

  Finally, the fat wizard hooked his fingers in his twine belt. “You must understand that when your life is spent in study and in service to the people of the land, you become accustomed to a certain level of scrutiny being applied to claims. Charlatans are everywhere, always seeking to exploit the weak and simple.”

  Riyun adjusted his grip on his weapon harness. “This is all a scam on the people of this area?”

  “Not exactly. More of a scam on everyone else, I would imagine.”

  “Because they…?”

  Fassyl let out an exasperated groan. “Because they’ve convinced everyone for miles around that they don’t need protection. Did you know that not one single wizard has ever come from this area? Not one!”

  “That’s abnormal?”

  “Every other region of significance has produced many over the millennia.”

  “I see.” Riyun let the sucking sound of his boots plopping over the muddy ground fill the silence between them for a while. There was definitely something odd about a world apparently designed for magic and wizards—a world where the magic spawned users fairly consistently—to have an area where that didn’t hold true. It sounded like another potential design flaw from the Total Rewrite team. “What about where Meriscoya was born?”

  “That’s not part of this region. But…” The old man scowled.

  “But?”

  “But he might have been born here. In Prominsk. Some said.”

  Riyun glanced at Naru, who seemed to be thinking the same thing: Was this another part of Beraga’s intervention?

  They would need to discus
s this. Later.

  As the afternoon stretched toward evening, and the low walls of the city became clear, Riyun sidled up to Quil. “We need to talk—you, Naru, Symbra, and me.”

  The pseudo jumped, apparently absorbed in his own thoughts. “I apologize, Lieutenant. Talk about—?”

  “You don’t have to apologize, Quil. We just learned that this area has never produced a wizard in…I guess thousands of years.”

  “And that is strange?”

  “It is. Everywhere else supposedly produces them fairly consistently. Oh, and there’s the possibility of a recent exception.”

  The young man’s brow furrowed. “Meriscoya?”

  “Yup.”

  “I see. Are there any explanations for—?”

  “That’s what we need to talk about. There’s supposedly a dragon living in an inland sea.”

  “A…dragon. In the sea.”

  “Yeah. I see the gears turning.”

  “Does this mean not all dragons are hostile?”

  “It’s supposedly a protector, so, yeah. Oh, and it spits lightning.”

  “Intriguing.”

  Riyun held up a finger. “How about one more idea, something to chew on for our discussion later.”

  The pseudo blinked. “All right.”

  “This connection to the abyss that all these magic things have, what if that’s necessary for a wizard to be born?”

  “But you said Meriscoya—”

  “Who’s a clone of Beraga. Engineered to be a wizard, right?”

  “Oh.” Quil’s eyes widened. “Oh!”

  “Yeah. Oh.”

  “Then—”

  “Save it for tonight.” Riyun pointed toward the city walls, which were slowly gaining clarity. “For now, do you have any suspicions about what we should expect inside there?”

  “Inside Badonosk?”

  “I’m just looking for your assessment. You see that cluster of riders headed from the north gate?”

  The pseudo squinted at the wide, dusty road that led out of the city. “On the choga?”

  “Is that what they’re called?”

  “The big animals with the humps on their backs and knobby legs, yes. Fassyl says they can go a week without water, days without showing any signs of effect. That would be advantageous in the desert.”

  “Maybe we should buy some for ourselves.”

  “They do not seem terribly…quiet. Also, they have a bad temper.”

  “I see.” Riyun smiled at how easy it was to draw the pseudo out with a simple mental challenge. “These people, they’re supposedly related to the people of the hills. I guess they share some legends.”

  Quil squeezed his chin. “In a world where legend is reality, the variance between one region and the next should be vastly diminished.”

  “Naru said that’s inevitable with shared experience.”

  The pseudo squinted. “She would be your best reference for such things.”

  “I’m sure she’s good. I’m asking you, though. If there are differences, do you see any concern?”

  “Are you asking in the context of perceiving our situation through the eyes of an entertainment structure, or are you asking in context of a fully realized world?”

  “I’ve been wrestling with that for a while. I think we all believe that this is a real world despite Total Rewrite’s efforts to control it.”

  “Not all. Hirvok still considers it a simulation and the people nothing more than organic simulations.”

  Organic simulations. Only Hirvok could say something like that. “It’s a real world. These people have value.”

  Quil’s silvery eyes darted around. “How convenient the world has been engineered not to question our appearance. Our armor, our guns, even how we look…”

  “They’ve seen it all before. Naru thinks it’s just ensuring safety controls for the players who come here.”

  “Obviously. However, it seems lazy. The more immersive approach would have been—”

  “I think we can dispense with the idea of lazy. Total Rewrite obviously spent a lot developing this.”

  “Convenient, then. A shortcut.”

  Shortcut—Riyun liked the idea. “Everything is built around maintaining the world and controlling its destiny.”

  The pseudo marched in silence.

  Riyun adjusted his backpack straps. “I suppose I’m most concerned about what we’ll find when Alush finally leads us to our target.”

  “What does Naru say the prophet has revealed?”

  “It sounds like a lot of nothing. He seems confused. Does that…match legends or game design?”

  Quil’s eyes dropped to the ground before him. “Have you asked her?”

  “Naru? Sure. But I’m asking you. Does it make sense for a prophet to be confused?”

  The young man blinked rapidly. “The fallen priest facing a crisis of confidence… It is a well-established idea. We have discussed it—”

  “Yeah. You said that before. So, it’s still possible that we’re on the path of the game design?”

  “It is. Nothing so far has completely contradicted that.”

  Riyun waved when Javika separated from a group of people on the northern road and headed toward him. “We’re going to have to reconcile how a world full of real people can still be part of entertainment.”

  Quil clacked his teeth together. “This puzzle has troubled me for days, Lieutenant. I thought my people were exclusive to such a purpose.”

  Riyun winced. How had he missed that? “I’m counting on you.”

  He changed course to intercept Javika. Perhaps she would have news that would clear up some of the uncertainties they faced.

  But as darkness settled, it seemed they might never have any real answers.

  50

  Badonosk proved to be a busier city than Riyun had expected. Travelers on foot and on choga hurried through the north gate ahead of the approaching darkness. They moved in small groups and large. From the looks of it, many were locals returning home, and others were caravans headed to settlements beyond. Pressed necessarily close in the small gate passage, the heat of the people carried sweat tinged with strong herbs and smoke. Low boots complimented loose, flowing blouses and pants, all of it largely of pale coloring. Their language echoed in the high-ceilinged, arched stone passage—different…faster, more energetic.

  Which meant there were dialects.

  Had that been planned for? It seemed counter to some of the things Naru and Quil had said about game design.

  Was it consistent with the city’s odd nature, though?

  Differences were inevitable where humans were concerned. The governing groups of the Inner Sphere had spent decades creating a unified language among all of their colonies, yet some people in the colonies developed strong cultural identities and brought back long-dead languages to match those identities. Had Beraga and his design team ever considered the possibility of such divergent cultural identities?

  The people in and around the gate certainly looked like the people of the hills, if taller and more slender. But cultural identity went beyond appearance. Riyun had seen it himself, on his own world. Skin color, body frame, hair…none of that mattered when you were struggling together just to survive.

  Beyond the gate, the city became even more distinctive from Yagath and how he imagined Garelan must have looked before the desolation. Low, squat buildings with similar designs and flat roofs seemed to make up the bulk of the place. The streets were hard-packed dirt, and they were wider. Most of the buildings had small courtyards in front of them, surrounded by low stone walls. And several buildings had steps on the side that led up to rooftops.

  He pointed out one of the buildings to Quil. “Any idea why so many of these places have stairs like that?”

  After a moment of study, the pseudo smiled. “I have seen this before. Not an exact match, but it was similar enough. The flat roof is possible because of the lack of snow in a warm environment. And if the heat rises sufficie
ntly, then evenings might be spent on rooftops.”

  “To take advantage of wind.”

  “Certainly to get away from a stuffy interior until the wind cools it.”

  A smirk flashed over Riyun’s face. Another influence on culture: climate. And the great sea and lake? Fishing, trade—it wasn’t just the climate but economy. Then there would be the influence of multiple peoples coming through the area for trade.

  There was no way to control such a diverse and rich environment.

  Quil pinched his chin. “Have we determined why we came to this city?”

  “Food and water. At least, that’s the reason being given.”

  “You have other thoughts?”

  “I do. I think we need to do some reconnaissance. Talk to some of the locals, check rumors, and especially look for any solid intelligence.”

  “About this dragon?”

  “We’ll talk about that.”

  “Do you think Meriscoya has spies here?”

  “I-I hadn’t thought of that. It’s hard to believe anyone would work for someone bent on destroying their world.”

  “That is what the Migra Rutai terrorists argue we do.”

  Riyun blanched. “Let’s not discuss politics right now.”

  “Of course. Separating politics from the world is a difficult undertaking. Things quickly become intertwined to the point—”

  “I get it. For now, let’s focus on this world. If you and Naru can set aside your spat—”

  “It is not a spat—”

  “Whatever it is. If you can set it aside, find places where people gather, and poke around, maybe we’ll find out if there’s something more we were supposed to uncover here.”

  “I will do my best.”

  Asking around led them to an abandoned house near the harbor. The building had apparently belonged to a captain inclined to drink while on the sea. This was something believed by most to be offensive to the creature that protected the city. When the captain’s ship failed to return after a sudden storm some years back, his family moved away, and their house was left untouched.

  Superstition was a luxury Riyun didn’t believe in. Offending some mythical sea dragon was the least of his concerns.

  The house was small and simple, with three rooms—a central gathering place probably intended for meals and two small rooms off it. They split up, with Symbra and Naru in one bedroom, and Javika and Riyun in the other. There were no interior doors, and the exterior doors had suffered through the years until they were no more an impediment to vagrants than the swollen and cracked shutters that barely clung to the outer walls. Only a pair of oil lamps remained, half-buried beneath moldering garbage.