Occultist

by Oliver Mayes

  “What are you doing?” Lillian asked from the doorway.

  “I’m leaving. Thank you for letting me stay, I was really happy here. I’ll try to get online somewhere, I don’t know, and I’ll let you know if—I’ll let you know when I find a place. We’ll have to talk over the voice chat, but we’ve got the profile set up already so at lea—”

  Lillian had walked up beside him as he spoke. She gently grasped the top of the bag, holding it closed so he couldn’t put any more clothes in. Firmly and pointedly, she tipped it upside down on the bed, shaking it out to make sure it was completely empty. Then she dropped it and looked him dead in the eye.

  Some of the Lillian he knew was starting to make a comeback. Anger, mostly.

  “As if I would let you do that. Idiot. Go and sit down.”

  “Lillian, if they’re here, I need to leave quickly. I don’t wan—”

  “Go and sit down. Please.”

  She held his gaze. Damien hadn’t counted on resistance. He couldn’t leave without causing more drama, and that was the last thing he wanted. Lillian’s wristband punctuated the silence with another jarring blip. If he made a scene, she might lose her cool completely and inadvertently summon the building security. She was his savior, but in this scenario she was also his captor.

  Damien walked back into the living room and sat down on the sofa. Lillian followed him out, closing the door to his room behind her.

  “They know you’re here. And if you leave, you’ll be caught. Instantly.”

  Damien put his head in his hands. Everything had been going so well. Why had this happened? How had they found him? Then he remembered.

  “You checked up on my mother today.”

  Lillian leaned on the door and nodded. Her wristband had stopped bleeping, but her expression was grim.

  “Yeah. She’s still there. Currently twenty-fifth in line for a new heart. Woop-tee-do. I put a call in to the hospital and asked if they had a Cassandra waiting for heart surgery. They asked me for my name. I didn’t think anything of it, but now…. I’m sorry, Damien, I should’ve been more careful.”

  Damien cast his eyes down at the floor. No. It was his fault. He should’ve told Lillian not to check on his mom in the first place. He’d just wanted to know so badly, and it had seemed so safe. And now here he was. Waiting for the inevitable.

  “You may as well let me leave. If I go now, I can pretend I was staying somewhere else. It beats them letting themselves in while we’re asleep.”

  Lillian blew a fat raspberry between her lips.

  “If they force their way in here without a warrant, they’ll lose their jobs. They look so dodgy they couldn’t even make it past the front gate. The sentry was watching us talk, and when we were finished I told him I didn’t know either of them and they were not to bother me under any circumstances. Frankly, I hope they try to come in and security shoots them. Assholes.”

  It was nice to see Lillian regaining her composure. She seemed pretty confident, although Damien had his doubts.

  “How long does it take to get a warrant?”

  “I dunno. Do I look like a CU official to you? Probably a while. It’s not like you’re a dangerous criminal, right?”

  Damien shook his head. He supposed not, although the way he’d been hounded certainly made him feel like one. Lillian didn’t allow him to linger on the thought.

  “I think we’ll be fine for tonight. We might want to hurry things up a little, though. You know, just in case. Especially after what Aetherius had to say to you today.”

  Damien’s thoughts crashed into each other and he was left dumbly staring up into Lillian’s face. She registered his surprise and her jaw dropped.

  “You don’t know? Seriously? Get on your profile, now!”

  Damien pulled the headset back on and reopened the window that had sat, minimized and forgotten, while he was studying Saga abilities. His profile was not how he’d left it. He was up to 176,000 competition votes. Ordinarily he’d be ecstatic, but Lillian had him on edge. With good reason. He opened the Twisted Forest video with his comments pinned to the top. Set underneath them was the reply Damien had never thought he’d receive.

  Aetherius: Daemien. You seem confused. I don’t know if it’s because you’re so new to the game or because you landed on your head, but let’s clear things up: I killed the dragon because it was fun. Hundreds of thousands of people agree. I kicked you down a hole because it was funny. Hundreds of thousands of people agree. You’ve got a chip on your shoulder about it, which is not clever. An ant doesn’t hold a grudge against a boot.

  You also seem to think you’ve accomplished something notable. I’ll put it into perspective. It took an hour to repair the damage you and Lillian did (Hello, you traitor. I’ll deal with you soon enough). My new pegasus is already here and ready for my victory parade. You’ve accomplished nothing. Oh, and calling me an edgelord because I, a competitive player, am unwilling to share the subtleties of my build, when you, a min-maxing nobody, won’t even share how you got your class, is laughable. Go crawl back under whatever rock it is you call home.

  As Damien read, he forgot about the CU agents. He had to go over it several times to process the full depth and breadth of his anger.

  “Yeah, that might not have been such a good idea.” Lillian took a seat on the sofa next to him and patted him on the back consolingly. “He brought you down to his level, now he’s beating you with experience. Don’t troll a troll.”

  Damien wasn’t listening. He was already formulating responses in his head, but none of them were generating traction. The rug had been well and truly swept out from under his feet. It was a very tidy little comment.

  He selected Aetherius’s name and looked at his profile. He’d broken 200,000 votes. It was 17:30; peak streaming time was minutes away. Damien needed a response, or the gap would only continue to widen.

  “I know we’re running out of time,” Lillian said, “but before you respond we need a plan. Otherwise you’ll end up playing into his hands again. We can’t hit his outposts anymore; everyone will be online and ready to port to anywhere that’s under attack. If we go outside and get spotted – and we will, playing on the weekend of the competition finale – they’ll quickly show up in force and try to murder us. So, what are we going to do?”

  Damien was starting to calm down. He’d found the responses to two out of three of Aetherius’s jibes. He was stuck on the last one. Calling Aetherius out for not sharing his build had seemed like such a good idea, given how everyone online had complained bitterly about it. He hadn’t thought of how it would reflect on himself. And now he was trapped.

  The moment he shared how to become an occultist, Rising Tide would come running to the… they’d come to The Downward Spiral and… wait a second.

  “Lillian, log on with me. Right now.”

  He landed on his feet back inside the game. There was a crackle of static in his ear and then Lillian’s voice came through, loud and clear.

  “—espond to the message first. If the first thing people see when they come online is Aetherius’s reply—”

  “Lillian.” Damien cut through her. He’d been filled with glorious purpose. “I am going to respond, before six, but first I need you to come here. I have a plan.”

  He marched out of his base, ignoring the imps that were waving at him, and headed into Bartholomew’s domain. He stood in the center of the dungeon floor and looked up at the entry point high overhead, his eyes following the winding pathway running around the outside that he’d negotiated so many times before. Lillian appeared at his shoulder, holding a torch over her head to see by.

  “I want to trick Rising Tide into coming here, then ambush and kill them all. What are your thoughts?”

  “You’re not serious?”

  “I am. Look at this place! A narrow path all the way around the outside with no cover, forcing them to travel one by one. Leading to open platforms, where they’ll be clustered together and we can fence them i
n on either side. Traps all along the route that we can add to with traps of our own. And my base is here, so I’ll have twice as many minions to throw at them. Not to mention Bartholomew himself. They might have beaten him already, but he’s not exactly a pushover. This is a strong position!”

  Lillian narrowed her eyes at him.

  “You make it sound so easy, but we’re talking about fighting an entire guild! They killed a dragon yesterday. Do you think you’ll do better?”

  “We’re not going to fight fair. I can’t win this competition without a fight, not after I promised I’d kill Aetherius or die trying, and I’d much rather fight them here than on their turf. This is the best plan I have, and we need to agree on it now, before I send the message. Will you do this with me?”

  Lillian pursed her lips and gently shook her head. Damien was crestfallen until she cracked the barest hint of a smile.

  “Are you the same person who said attacking the waiting room was suicide? Fine. What do you want me to do?”

  Damien opened his profile and started typing Aetherius a reply. He’d taken a long time to type out the first two messages; he’d have to work fast to get this out before six.

  Daemien: Aetherius, so nice of you to join us. I thought you’d never stop deleting my messages. Lillian informs me you’re planning on hiding in your base until the competition is over. Are you doing that for fun as well? No, I think it’s for the same reason you wouldn’t fight Toutatis: you’re a coward. The leader of Rising Tide, trapped in his own base by an ant. I understand why you’re scared. I’ve lost count of how many of your people I’ve killed by now. Not that you seemed concerned about their deaths in your reply – you were more concerned with your club house and your magic pony.

  I’m not like you, though. I didn’t do it for fun. I did it to show the world what a spineless, useless, self-absorbed guild leader you are. As for the class, I’m announcing how to get it this weekend. A gift, for everyone who plays Saga Online. What have you got to offer? You have fun riding around in your second-rate, second place parade. Keep an eye out for me, though. That last pegasus was great exp, but I’d rather spare the mount and kill the moron on top of it. Hundreds of thousands of people agree.

  He sent it to Lillian first for approval, and waited for a few minutes as she considered it. She looked up at him and nodded. He posted it just after 18:00. Upvotes accumulated almost immediately. There was no going back now.

  “Alright. Aetherius or bust. Let’s get to work!”

  33

  Preparations

  Damien showed Lillian around the base, taking her all the way up while he pointed out traps. On the way back down, the two of them discussed possible battle plans. There was a lot of back and forth, a little searching online to figure out some of the game mechanics and plenty of arguing, but eventually they settled on a strategy for each of the six platforms on the way to the final floor as well as the narrow causeways that linked them together. Once that was done, Damien returned to his base and set his imps to work.

  In addition to the new weapons they’d need, Damien had come up with an idea for a particularly diabolical set of traps. He scrolled through the Demon Forge options and found something that fit the bill perfectly: buckshot. Ammunition for guns. It was cheap, only taking one iron bar to make a hundred pellets.

  By degrees, Lillian started to become more optimistic. She was especially optimistic when she checked Daemien’s profile. He’d crested 190,000 votes. Aetherius was ahead by 20,000 and his votes were still rising, but Damien was gaining on him, bit by bit. Better yet, after an hour Aetherius still hadn’t replied. Nobody could stop talking about the competition beef, except for those people who were more excited to play as an occultist. Competition votes were flooding in.

  That evening, he and Lillian set out into the forest under cover of darkness. Soon enough they found a large cluster of sturdy dryad mobs which offered decent experience and soul energy - one and a half soul energy for each fallen dryad. It was much easier to get Damien's Soul Reserve back up now that Lillian was tanking the mobs for him.

  After fifty minutes of killing dryads, Damien had fully replenished his stores of minions, for him and his Soul Well. He hadn’t been at full strength since the Malignant Crypt. It was a good feeling. His summons by his side, Lillian played defensively and let him do all the damage, allowing him to get the majority of the experience.

  It was a long grind. An hour in and hundreds of mobs dead, Damien was wishing he’d slept earlier. He found something new: the IMBA set could detect his mental exhaustion. It started popping up with warnings and advice, which Damien steadfastly turned down: No, it wasn’t just a game. Yes, he had eaten that day. Errr, how could a fifteen-minute break help at half past two in the morning?

  At last, at 03:47, on the dawn of the penultimate day of the competition, Damien thrust his dagger through a dryad’s back and a flurry of notifications popped up on his screen.

  Level Up!

  Summon Incubus Unlocked!

  A new trait is available for selection. Choose wisely.

  Building Upgrades Unlocked!

  Damien smiled weakly. He’d done it. It hadn’t all been glamorous, but he’d got to level 30 in less than a week. Lillian came forward and shook him roughly by the shoulder, her face split into a grin.

  “Congratulations. Did you get traits?”

  Damien nodded and summoned a portal. They’d been here long enough. He could check the traits in the comfort of his own home. His army filed through, with he and Lillian going through last, together. His base was rammed. Thirty souls of minions attached to his Soul Well, another twenty-six attached to himself, plus a vampire and a paladin. He reviewed his new traits.

  Unhallowed Ground: Circle of Hell heals demonic minions in its area of effect.

  Coven Leader: Succubi calculate their spell damage based on your intelligence.

  9/10 of the Lore: The stats of possessed minions are doubled.

  Oof. A triple whammy of minion-based traits. On closer inspection, he realized the first two weren’t much good to him. They relied on intelligence. He didn’t know if the succubi Circle of Hell counted for the first trait, which was important since he hadn’t even accumulated enough intelligence to get the spell himself. It wasn’t the best pick anyway. The last trait was the best for him. He selected it and was filled with an overwhelming wave of satisfaction.

  Then he opened his stat sheet, promptly piling the final five unassigned points into wisdom.

  Account Name: Damien Arkwright

  Class: Occultist

  Level: 30

  Health: 840/840

  Stamina: 890/890

  Mana: 2440/2440

  Stats:

  Strength 39 - Agility 129 - Intelligence 39

  Constitution 84 - Endurance 89 - Wisdom 244

  Stat points: 0

  Experience: 55/30000

  Soul Summon Limit: 27/27 - Soul Reserve: 10/10 (+1/1)

  Damien wanted to keep going, maybe even summon the incubus, but he was just too damn tired. Lillian, usually the more persistent of the pair, had hit her limit as well.

  They logged off and pulled off their headsets, each examining the dark rings under the eyes of the other.

  “What time are we waking up?”

  “I… think whenever it happens. Let’s try for midday; we need to be awake if we’re going to do this right. Come get me if you wake up first. I’ll do the same.”

  Damien yawned. 4am. It had taken a long time, but it was worth the effort for the trait and the minions.

  Lillian headed for the bathroom, looking over her shoulder.

  “Damien… whatever happens tomorrow... today... I’m really glad I met you. I’m only sorry I couldn’t help you more.”

  “What are you talking about? Without you, I’d still have two videos and a profile picture up on my account. You’re the brains of this outfit. I’m just the pretty face.”

  She laughed at that. Damien couldn’t help b
ut smile.

  “We’ll give Aetherius a hard time tomorrow. Today. Dammit, I need to go to bed. Sleep well, man.”

  He gave her a thumbs up and lumbered into his room. They’d done a lot of prep. He was ready. As ready as he could be. All he needed now was sleep.

  The morning came all too soon, and not soon enough. Damien stirred as the knocks reverberated off the door, immediately followed by a chirpy Lillian.

  “Morning, sleepyhead! Get up, I made you breakfast!”

  Damien wandered into the lounge to find bacon and eggs steaming on a plate on the table. Lillian was on the sofa, her headset already on.

  “Oh wow,” Lillian said, waving at him to hurry. “You have to see this.”

  He scoffed his breakfast down as quickly as possible, eager to join her. Two minutes later and with his mouth still full, he wiped the egg yolk from his lips and sat down beside her, jamming his own headset over his head.

  She wasn’t kidding. With the competition coming to a head, the votes were starting to polarize. People wanted to use their votes somewhere they’d count. Right now that meant either Aetherius, or Daemien.

  Aetherius’s lead was unchanged, but the two of them had so many votes that it hardly seemed like a big gap at all: Aetherius had 318,000 votes. Damien was at 290,000. He felt light-headed and had to pull the visor up, lying back until the world stopped spinning.

  “And I haven’t even given them the class yet,” Damien whispered. “Let’s do this!”

  “You go first,” Lillian said. “I’ll clean up and join you in a sec.”

  He gave her a nod before pulling his visor down to log in.

  Landing on his feet near his Soul Well, he willed Noigel to his side. It was easier than trying to find him, the way his base was now. His oldest minion picked his way through the hordes and snapped to attention in front of him.

  “Noigel, gimme a minion count.”