by Edward Brody
“And who are you?” the guard asked.
“I’m Gunnar, and these are my guild mates.” I felt a little stupid saying that as if my name meant something important, but what else was I going to say? Somehow I thought telling him that we were from Edgewood and I was the ambassador between the high and dark elves would be even worse.
“Gunnar? Is that supposed to mean something to me? Are you a royal or do you have a rank of some sort?” the guard questioned.
“We’re just regular people with important information for the King,” I said.
The guard snickered. “You can’t just come to the castle and ask to see the King.”
“We just did,” Aaron spat.
The guard snarled and glared at Aaron. “Well, you can’t expect us to just let anyone pass through these doors.”
“Many lives depend on what I have to tell him,” I explained. “I’m sure he’ll approve of you letting us by.”
The guard chuckled. “You think you’re the first person to come here and give us that spiel?” He quickly cleared his throat. “Look, if you have an issue, go to the Guild Hall and speak with the magistrate. If whatever you have to say is important enough, he’ll pass it along to the King.”
“I need to tell this to the King directly,” I insisted.
“Too bad,” the guard said firmly. He moved his lance from across the door and pointed the tip towards us. “The King will be heading to the Arena soon, so if we need to clear the path by force, we will. I suggest you leave now.”
I sighed, realizing that my plan had failed before it even started. Ozzy, Aaron and I all turned and started back the way we came.
“Damn, Gunnar,” Aaron said. “You’re batting three-for-three today in the ‘great idea’ department.”
“Shut up, clown,” I hissed.
There was the clank of a metal latch unfastening, and we all turned our heads back around to see the guards step to the side, turn, and hold their weapons up high.
The doors of the castle entrance moaned and creaked as they were pushed outward, and when there was a wide enough clearance, a familiar face stepped outside.
“Stay alert, men,” Commander Eldrich said, turning briefly to each flank and flashing a bright smile. He took a few more steps and started to slow his movements when he recognized me. “Well, hello there, Gunnar.” He tilted his head a bit and creased his brow. “What are you doing at the castle?”
“We came to speak to the King,” I said, “but didn’t get too far.”
“Hah!” The commander smiled. “Not just anyone can come and meet the King, you know?”
“How do we meet him then?” I asked. “It’s really important that I talk to him.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
I scratched the back of my head and sighed a little. “With all due respect, commander, it’s something that I can really only share with the King.”
“Well, then.” The commander lowered his eyes and pursed his lips. “I can’t imagine what it is, but there’s no way you can get into the castle to meet him.”
“There’s got to be a way,” I said. “I mean… you just came out of there.”
The commander chuckled. “I’m a commander in the King’s army. Of course, I have to meet him. I suppose if you become a commander someday, you can meet him too. But even lower-ranking soldiers can’t just show up at the castle to meet the King.”
“No one else ever sees the King?” I pushed.
Commander Eldrich raised his eyebows and sighed. “Well, I suppose if you committed a crime, you’d eventually meet the King. Of course, you’d have to sit in jail before you stood trial before him. I highly doubt the jail time or even harsher punishment you might get during sentencing would be worth the meeting though.”
For a moment, I considered that I might actually go through with committing a crime if it meant that I’d meet the King. I could explain the Bloodletter situation while standing trial if that was the only way. But then again, if I were a criminal, I imagined the chances of him believing anything I had to say were a lot lower. And who knew how long I’d have to sit in jail before seeing him?
“Of course,” Commander Eldrich continued, “you could marry into royalty, get hired as a squire, or something of that nature to gain access to the King, but I don’t see that happening—at least not anytime soon. But that’s really the—” The Commander stopped mid-sentence, raised an eyebrow, and held up his index finger. “Oh, the King actually does honor anyone who becomes an Arena champion in Highcastle’s name, so if you ever managed to win a championship, you’d get to meet him. By the way, there’s a big show at the Arena today. Everyone will be there. In fact, the King himself will be watching.”
“Okay, wait a minute,” I said. “If someone becomes an Arena champion, they can meet the King?”
“Of course,” the commander affirmed. “It’s a great honor to achieve, and King Rutherford will meet with you directly to congratulate you. Of course, becoming a champion is no easy task. You’d have to earn a shot and beat the current champion to do so.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Commander. You’re given us some valuable information.” I held out my hand for a shake.
The commander reached out and grabbed my hand while scrunching up his nose. “I have?”
“Yeah.” After a quick shake, I pointed my thumb to Ozzy. “You’ve already met Aaron, but this is our guild mate, Ozzy.”
Ozzy grinned and put two fingers to his head in some sort of salute.
“Nice to meet you, Ozzy. And how can I forget the Sizzler over there? I do hope to redeem myself in a game of Pig with you someday.”
“I look forward to the challenge,” Aaron said cockily.
“Anyway, we’ve got to get going.” I turned, nodded at my guild mates, and threw a quick wave back to the commander.
“Where are you three headed in such a rush?” he asked.
“We’re headed for the Arena,” I answered without turning around.
“Hell yeah,” Aaron hissed low.
“Oh! Well, have fun, Gunnar! And remember to stop by the barracks sometime! You still owe me the story of how you acquired the Fellblade!”
NPCs had great memories, apparently.
“I haven’t forgotten, and I will!”
Chapter Nine
1/26/0001
“I hope there’s seats left,” Aaron said. “We should’ve just went straight to the Arena to see the show rather than messing around trying to visit the King and all that.”
“It all makes perfect sense,” I said, ignoring Aaron’s comments as we paced furiously away from the castle.
“What does?” Aaron asked.
“Do you remember what I told you the first day we stepped in Edgewood?”
Aaron bit his bottom lip and hummed. “That you want to find a castle somewhere or build one?”
“No… I mean, yeah. I did say that. But that’s not what I mean. I told you that I was going to make a name for myself in Eden’s Gate. All I wanted was to do was find my girlfriend, and according to Dr. Winston, that’s how I was going to do it.”
“Oh yeah,” Aaron said. “You were obsessed with finding some girl when we first met.”
“You have a girlfriend?” Ozzy asked.
My stomach felt uneasy at the question. Other than a few weak moments when I was in the Sands, Rachel had barely entered my mind as of late.
To be fair, before entering Eden’s Gate, Rachel was all I had, so she was always on my mind. I had no close friends, and talking to other girls was mostly a foreign concept to me. I had no real direction in my life, and it felt like I was waking up every morning just to go to work and pay my bills to repeat the same thing over and over again. The time I spent with Rachel was the only thing I had to look forward to back on Earth.
In Eden’s Gate, I had a great group of close friends, and people actually saw me for who I was. It didn’t matter if women were into me or not, but just the fact that girls like Rina, Keysia and Ade
elee associated with me based on my character rather than my job or the car I drove made me feel like more of a man. And I had a clear reason to wake up every morning—to take care of my guild, to level up, to build a better life than the amazing one I was already living.
Fuck, I thought. Even after all the shit I’ve been through in the Sands, I’m having an amazing time.
“I had a girlfriend…” I said to Ozzy, “…before I came here.”
Had a girlfriend… I repeated in my head. I wasn’t hung up on Rachel the way I was before, and if we were to ever meet again, would she even care for the person that I had become? I wasn’t the same shy, stiff, guy that she dated back on Earth, and surely, she wasn’t the same girl either. Would I even care for whoever she was now?
Truth was, there still was no guarantee that Rachel was even in the game. Maybe that was a big reason why I had started to move on.
But even with all my rationalizing, I still wanted to find her if it were possible. She had meant a lot to me back on Earth, so if she were in the game, I wanted to know that she was doing okay, even if we didn’t end up back together. And what better way to make a name for myself then to become a champion?
“Inside the Arena entrance is a plaque with the names of all the top-ranked Arena fighters,” I explained. “It lists their name and the location that they’re fighting from. If I can get my name on that list, it would show in all the Arenas across the world. And if Rachel saw my name on that list, it might lead her to me.”
“Wait,” Aaron said. “You don’t want to see the show? You want to compete?”
“I’m not sure yet.” I rattled my head. “I mean, yeah, I do, if I can. I don’t know. But I want to get my name put on that list.”
“Well, that is about the most literal way of ‘making a name for yourself’ I can think of,” Aaron said.
“And,” I added, “if I become a champion, I get to meet the King. That’ll give me a chance to tell him about the Bloodletter’s plans and possibly sway him into taking action.”
Aaron made a snapping noise with his lips. “I thought we came here just to get the location of some reagents. You have a great way of overcomplicating everything.” He shrugged. “But hey, bro.” He quickly dropped his shoulders and held a fist out to me. “If you think you can do it, you know we support you.”
I chuckled and bumped my fist against his. “Speaking of reagents, you know what else I told you that day in Edgewood?”
“What?”
“That I’d climb Dragon’s Crest someday. If we go over there to find mushrooms, I might have to give it a try.”
Ozzy cleared his throat. “I don’t want to be a Debbie Downer, but might I remind you that you’re not even level 20 yet?”
I sighed and glanced at Ozzy out of the corner of my eye. “Someday.”
When we returned to the Arena, there were still people scurrying about and people ducking behind the building, but the line at the entrance had thinned out. There were thirty or so people still in line, but it was moving quickly.
We queued up at the tail of the line, and the same trumpet sounds that we heard earlier started blaring. When they quieted, a man stepped out of the entrance and yelled. “Ten minutes before the big show! Ten minutes!” A few stragglers gathered behind us with kebabs in their hands.
“So you’re fighting?” Ozzy asked. “Do you know even know what you’re getting into?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” I said, “but I was told that they aren’t death matches, and you win money if you win. If they’ll let me fight, there isn’t much to lose.”
“Win money, huh?” Ozzy placed his finger on his chin as if he were thinking.
Aaron shook his head and smiled to himself.
I nodded to Ozzy and looked at Aaron. “What are you grinning about?”
“It’s just—” He held his arms out and turned his head all around him. “—all this… I remember working on the Arena concept with Dr. Winston for a bit. It’s something he really wanted to make sure was in the game, so we programmed in a few different designs. We also programmed the idea of Arena combat into the AI, and look.” He waved a hand at the people queued up in front of us. “It all came together better than I could have ever imagined. Sometimes I see things like this, and I can’t believe we’re in a digitally created world.”
I smiled. “It is still hard to believe.”
We passed through the Arena doors, and the line veered to a left where the burly, bearded man I met when I first visited was standing behind a desk. A woman with chocolate skin and a nearly bald, buzzed haircut stood beside him. She wore a full set of brown and tan leather armor with a sword draped at her side, and as each person in line handed her 100 gold, she quickly handed them a white paper ticket. The burly man was leaning over, scribbling on a parchment, and glancing up periodically.
“100 gold,” the woman said, the second I reached the front of the line.
“How can I join the battle?” I asked. “Am I too late?”
The woman scanned over me. “Boris.”
“Yep?” the burly man said without looking up.
“He wants to fight.”
Boris looked up to me and sat his pen down. “Ah, I remember you.” He waved his hand violently to the left. “Step aside so the line can continue moving.”
Aaron, Ozzy, and I moved left, and the woman went back to work collecting money from everyone else in line.
“What day do you want to fight?” the man asked.
I shrugged a shoulder. “Today if it’s not too late.”
“Ugh,” the man groaned and started shaking his head. “I could put you on the list to fight, but we need an even number of fighters in each tier to fill a show. Unless someone else shows up in the next three to four minutes to fight, I’m afraid you wouldn’t have an opponent.”
“We could put him against a beast,” the woman said as she collected money from the next person in line.
“We don’t have enough preparation for that,” the man argued. “We’d need more time and we’d have to—”
“I can fight too,” Ozzy said. “You get money, right?”
The man nodded. “If you win.”
“How much?” Ozzy asked.
“Well,” the man explained, “it depends on how much you win and what tier you’re fighting in. Fighters who win a lot and fight in higher tiers draw more of a crowd. Since you’re an unknown fighter with no record and in the lowest tier, you’d get the minimum of 500 gold for a win.”
“That’s not bad,” I said.
Ozzy rubbed his chin. “And it’s not a death match?”
“We do our best to prevent any deaths,” the man said. “And we heal you of any injuries you receive once your fight is over.”
Ozzy looked at me out of the corner of my eye. “Well, then, yeah. Sign me up.”
“Wait. Does that mean we’d have to fight each other?” I turned to Ozzy. “I don’t want to fight a guild mate.”
“Hmm,” the burly man said. He leaned over the desk and picked up the paper he was working on. “We can shuffle the arrangement around so that you won’t have to fight each other today, but just keep in mind that you’d eventually have to fight each other if you both win and continue winning.”
I smiled and nodded. “Understood.”
“Alright then,” the man said. “Your name?” He sat the paper on the desk and pick up his feathered pen.
“Gunnar Long,” I said.
“And you’re from?” the man asked.
“Edgewood.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Edgewood?”
“Yeah. We’re both from Edgewood.”
“Okayyyy…” The man shook his head in confusion. “Well, the closest Arena is in Highcastle anyway, so that would make you a Highcastle combatant. Do you have a title?”
“Arcane Blade,” I said.
The burly man nodded and whispered, “Arcane blade…” as he wrote.
“Arcane blade?” Aaron said. �
�You never mentioned you earned a title!”
“I figured you’d see next time you inspected me,” I explained.
“Inspect you?” Aaron asked, wrinkling his brow. “Why would I do that?”
“Congrats,” Ozzy said and patted me on the shoulder.
Boris looked up to Ozzy. “And your name?”
“Ozzy Caldwell.”
“Title?”
“None yet.”
The burly man finished scribbling on the paper then opened a drawer at the front of his desk. From the drawer, he pulled two red tickets that looked like the white tickets that the woman was handing to the attendees, except these tickets had small bell dangling from each one and a pattern on the front that looked much like an inscription rune. He handed Ozzy and I one each.
“Here you go, and good luck!” the man said jovially. “He pointed a finger towards the empty hall that was behind us. “You’ll head that way whenever it’s your turn, but you’re welcome to go enjoy the show before and after your fight. Your ticket will ring when it’s your turn, and you’ll have five minutes to make down the hall and check in. Got it?”
“Got it,” I said.
Ozzy nodded.
I reached for 100 gold and started in the direction where the rest of the attendees were headed.
When I attempted to give the woman my fare, she held out a hand to me. “If you’re fighting, the show is free.”
“Nice,” I said.
Ozzy grinned, and we both passed the woman without paying.
When Aaron tried to follow, the woman held her arm out to block him. “100 gold, sir.”
Aaron smirked and moaned, “Man…” as he reluctantly handed over his gold.
We continued down a curved path, which finally ended at a flight of stairs that led straight up, and as we climbed the stairs, I could hear the chatter of the massive gathering ahead of us.
When we reached the top of the stairs, my heart started thumping. Ahead of us was a massive, circular Arena, much like I imagined a gladiator Arena in Greek times would be. Rows and rows of bleacher-style wooden seats lined the circumference of the Arena, and there were thousands of people filling the seats. Where the lowest row of seats ended, the white inner wall of the Arena dropped down around ten or so feet and met with the flat, weathered dirt where the fighting took place.
