Awaken Online: Ember (Tarot #1)

by Bagwell, Travis

  “Yes, sir,” Daniel replied.

  Finn grimaced and tugged the helmet over his head, his vision suddenly obscured by darkness. At the same time, he powered the headset on by tapping at the side of the helmet. A screen flickered into existence in front of him.

  System Initializing

  Scanning User... Please Wait.

  “Oh, and Daniel?” Finn said, his voice sounding muted through the helmet.

  “Yes, sir?” the AI replied.

  “If you detect elevated vitals or irregular network activity, cut the connection immediately,” Finn instructed.

  “Of course, sir. With respect to your vitals, what…” The AI never got a chance to finish its question. Another prompt suddenly appeared in front of Finn.

  System Initialized

  Scanning complete. Initiating boot sequence.

  Welcome to Awaken Online!

  Before Finn could question what was happening, the notice abruptly disappeared, and blinding white light flooded his vision.

  I really hope I don’t regret this…

  Chapter 3 - Fortunate

  Finn opened his eyes and paused for a moment in shock. He was second-guessing whether he had really logged into the game because the scene around him certainly looked real. He could even feel a faint breeze on his skin.

  He still sat in his wheelchair, but he was now inside what appeared to be a large tent, ruddy orange sunlight drifting in from the flap behind him. The leather walls buckled and shifted, and he could hear wind whistling across its surface. Puffs of what looked like sand drifted into the room, swirling and spiraling in the air. The interior of the tent had been adorned with antique furniture and intricate Persian rugs. Colorful tapestries and gossamer silks hung from the ceiling, drifting down into the room.

  On the far end of the tent, Finn could see a small table. Not knowing what else to do, he wheeled his way forward. He quickly realized that whoever had designed this place hadn’t been focused on making it wheelchair accessible. He kept getting caught in the thick carpets, and the hanging silks slapped him in the face as he passed.

  By the time he had made it across the room, Finn was breathing heavily, and his arms burned from the effort. It was all rather astounding. The tactile feedback, movements, and physics of this environment were almost indistinguishable from the real world. Whoever had built this place had created something amazing.

  Finn pushed his way up to the table, realizing that no chair lingered on his side. The only thing lying on the surface was a stack of large black rectangular cards, resting face-down. What captured his attention, however, was the tapestry that hung behind the table. It was nearly twelve feet wide, and its surface was painted with orange and red flames, showing what appeared to be a phoenix being consumed by fire.

  “What is this?” Finn murmured to himself. He had played quite a few games back in college – although, admittedly that had been a few decades ago. Normally, he would expect a tutorial and some sort of validation of the game’s controls and UI. Does the player know how to move around? Can he interact with the environment?

  Maybe that’s what this was?

  “This is a beginning,” a voice spoke up from behind the tapestry. A moment later, a woman stepped out from behind the cloth. Her skin was a dark olive, and she walked with an almost unnatural grace, as though she was simply floating. Her face and body were covered in thick purple silks, leaving only her eyes visible and making it difficult to place her age.

  “Hello, Finn,” she greeted him, bowing her head slightly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  For his part, Finn was just staring at this woman, dumbfounded. This couldn’t be a player. As they’d discussed the game, his daughter had been clear that if he inspected someone, there should be a tag indicating whether he was speaking to another living person. Which meant this woman was an NPC, a digital puppet directed by the game’s AI controller.

  But damn did she look and sound authentic.

  “Hello,” Finn replied hesitantly, noticing the woman was still staring at him. “You have me at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don’t know yours.” He could only assume that Julia had registered his name when she set up his account.

  “I have many names, but you may call me the Seer.”

  Finn chuckled, glancing around the tent. “That’s rather on the nose isn’t it? Should we call me the Cripple?”

  The Seer cocked her head. “If that is how you choose to view yourself. In many ways, we are what we do. There is no shame in that.” She leaned forward, peering at him and hummed to herself softly before asking him, “What is it that you do, Finn?”

  Finn’s smile faded. What the hell?

  He coughed to cover his confusion. Maybe he needed to change the subject. “Okay. So, this is a beginning, but what does that entail exactly?”

  An arched eyebrow – his attempt to dodge her question hadn’t gone unnoticed. This AI was on point. “I would like to give you a tarot reading, assuming you are comfortable having your fortune read,” the Seer said, waving at the table.

  “Sure,” Finn replied.

  He had always been a little skeptical of this sort “woo woo” magic stuff, but Rachael had loved it. She had dragged him into more than one fortune teller’s shop when they traveled. Frankly, Finn felt that most fortune-tellers were simply con artists – preying on others’ pain and passion. Hell, he could easily design an app that would perform a quick look-up on an individual’s personal information. Maybe even embed the display in a crystal ball…

  The strange woman took a seat on the other side of the table, grasping the cards with nimble fingers and shuffling them with practiced movements. As she worked, Finn noticed something moving the silks that wrapped her body. A moment later, a black python slithered across her shoulder and twisted around her neck, its tongue flicking at the air in Finn’s direction.

  “Ahh, don’t mind Draco. He’s harmless – mostly,” the Seer murmured, following Finn’s gaze. She paused her shuffling for a moment to run a finger across the snake’s head.

  Dynamic dialogue? Or perhaps this is all carefully scripted? Finn wondered. The dialogue tree would have to be incredibly complex.

  She set down the deck on the side of the table. “Draw three cards and place them face-down on the table in front of you,” the Seer instructed.

  Finn followed her orders, plucking three cards from the deck. It might have been Finn’s imagination, but it suddenly seemed like a heavy silence lingered in the tent. The tapestries and silks hung limply, the wind no longer rustling them in its wake. Something about this whole exchange felt… off. For a moment, he considered logging out.

  Yet the Seer didn’t give him a chance.

  She flipped the left-most card.

  Despite his reservations, Finn peered at the card curiously. An image was painted on the surface in filigreed gold, showing a man with a scepter sitting on a throne. Even more strangely, the throne seemed to be on fire, glimmering flames lapping at his feet.

  “The Emperor,” the Seer murmured.

  “What does it mean?” Finn asked.

  The woman peered at him above her silken mask. “It signifies that you are a father. Yet more than that, you seek control and authority – not just over your children but your own life. You hide yourself behind the trappings of routine, an emperor ruling over a solitary kingdom.”

  Finn could only stare back, his eyes wide. How the hell could this woman – or rather, this program – know that? His mind flailed for an answer. Maybe it was picking up information using his IP? Although, his IP should be bouncing across a few dozen VPN connections. He’d always gone to great lengths to hide his personal information.

  Maybe Julia? But his daughter would know better than to give out details about him – despite how intrusive she had been lately.

  Finn coughed uncomfortably, pulling at his collar. The room felt suddenly warmer than it had a moment ago.

  “Do you wish to keep going?” the
Seer asked, watching him.

  No, not really, he thought, but then felt silly for being nervous about a video game. This was probably just a coincidence. Or maybe the AI was just stereotyping him. If the program had some basic information on Finn like his age, then guessing that he had children would be relatively easy. And it wouldn’t be a longshot from there to guess that a crippled old man with adult children felt a little lonely.

  “Yeah, go ahead,” Finn finally replied.

  She flipped over the second card, the material slapping against the table. This image showed a sun, tendrils of flame lancing away from the sphere. However, the scene was upside down, the sun’s rays touching the ground at the top of the card.

  “The Sun reversed,” the Seer murmured, staring down at the image.

  She looked back up at Finn, meeting his eyes. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of flames in her pupils, but it vanished almost as quickly as it had appeared. Maybe he had imagined it – or maybe her eyes had just reflected one of the nearby lamps.

  “Normally, the sun stands for power and positivity. However, when reversed, the card signifies a… sadness,” the Seer said softly. “You are depressed. Confused. You lost something incredibly important to you. Something that turned your entire world upside down.

  “Perhaps the same thing that drove you to seek control and routine,” the strange woman observed, those dark eyes still staring at Finn.

  Finn could feel his pulse pounding in his ears now. His other explanations had just gotten tossed out of the window. How the hell could this game know about his wife? The only explanation seemed to be that Julia had told the company, but that didn’t make any sense at all. However, Finn froze as another thought occurred to him.

  There was technically another explanation. He had carefully studied the VR headset. It would be theoretically possible for it to access other parts of his mind besides sensory input. The headset could possibly pull information from his hippocampus and cerebral cortex – reading his memories like some sort of organic hard drive.

  That thought was terrifying.

  “Uh, I’m not sure…” Finn began, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. He hesitated as he saw that the Seer was already turning over the last card.

  The image was of a wand, flames curling away from the tip. However, this card was also upside down, the hand holding the wand stretching away from the top edge. As he stared at the image, Finn could have sworn that he saw the golden flames move, and the hand clench tighter on the hilt.

  “Ace of Wands reversed,” the Seer said. Her brow was furrowed in a frown now.

  Finn once more had to resist the urge to simply log the hell out. Part of him was curious, though, not just at the technical marvel that he was witnessing, but at what this woman was about to tell him.

  “You were once creative and passionate,” the Seer murmured, staring at the card. There was no mistaking it now; flames danced in her eyes, and the card seemed to respond in turn, fire curling along the wand’s shaft.

  “You were given the gift of an agile mind, and you used your gifts to create, to build, to explore the unknown. You were inspired, and your life burned brightly, a blaze so great that it ignited passion in those around you.”

  Another frown creased the Seer’s forehead. “Yet you lost your way. You lost your heart, bound yourself in the chains of monotony and routine, and fled from the world. And in the process, you lost your passion.” As she spoke, the flames around the wand dwindled until they were only faint, dull embers.

  The Seer raised her eyes to meet Finn’s. It felt like the room had turned into an oven and sweat now freely dripped down his face and drenched the collar of his shirt. He couldn’t look away from this woman, her eyes awash in flame and her python hissing at him. This had gone way past anything he had expected, and his thoughts swirled and spun chaotically.

  “But this is not the end. Your fire has not yet been completely extinguished. You just need someone – or something – to fan it back to life. A purpose. A passion.”

  “What the hell is this?” Finn croaked. “Who are you? What are you?”

  “As I said before, this is a beginning,” the Seer murmured. “Or at least an offer of one.

  “As for who I am, I am a god in this world. I am the deity of the flame, the burning fire that resides in the hearts of all men and women. I am that insatiable drive to strike out into the world. To explore. To build towering pyramids. I am the passion to reach for the sun, even if it might burn you. I give life purpose and meaning.”

  He had difficulty looking away from the Seer. She leaned forward, her eyes glowing softly. “And I have been waiting a long time for someone like you, Finn.”

  “What do you mean? What can I possibly offer you? This… this isn’t even real,” Finn said, confused. How had a game been waiting for him?

  The woman chuckled softly. “What does it mean to be real? If you can taste, touch, and see something, is it not real? Can you not feel the heat on your skin? Have the cards not read your past, present, and future? You believe this is merely a technological marvel, but what if you dared to look past that?”

  Finn’s eyes widened. This woman – this god – was acknowledging that this was a simulation? What the hell was going on here?

  “Yes, you are outside your comfort zone. You cannot control this,” the Seer murmured. “You cannot explain it.” Her eyes blazing. “But isn’t that exciting? Isn’t some part of you intrigued? Compelled to move forward despite the risk?”

  “You just read my mind,” Finn croaked in surprise, realizing he hadn’t been speaking. That was the only remaining evidence he needed. The hardware must be accessing both his short and long-term memory.

  “Is that so hard for you to believe?” the Seer replied calmly. “You already figured out the rules of this world a few moments ago. Much, much more quickly than most, I might add. It is that intellect that I need – that hungering curiosity.”

  The Seer rose from her seat, pacing around the table to stand beside Finn. “Now you face a choice. You can go back to your self-imposed prison and shout about the evils of this world, although I suspect few will listen. You can live out the rest of your years watching your own flame flicker and die.

  “Or, you can take a chance at a new beginning. I can offer you a new world to explore and new challenges to overcome. I can give you the opportunity to build and to create again, to let your passion take hold of you like it once did.”

  She waved her hand, and the silks hanging about the room blew aside as a hot wind swept through the room. A platform rose from the center of the tent, and atop its surface a bright flame ignited from thin air, growing and expanding until it created a roaring inferno, the center of the fire glowing almost white.

  “You need only take the first step. A leap of faith,” the Seer said, waving at the flames. “Simply step into the flames.” Her voice echoed through the tent as she turned to look back at him.

  Finn stared at the fire. His mind was wheeling. Despite the risks that this hardware posed and the fact that he knew this wasn’t real, he felt drawn to the flames. What the Seer promised resonated with something deep inside himself, some secret yearning he had buried under a mountain of guilt and pain.

  He stared at the platform, realizing that his wheelchair couldn’t make the climb. Even as that thought crossed his mind, he thought back to his wife – to his dream. If he accepted the Seer’s challenge, would he be betraying Rachael? He couldn’t bear the thought of letting her go. He just couldn’t…

  “You can,” the Seer whispered, suddenly standing beside him. Her hand rested on his shoulder, her skin almost uncomfortably warm. “Is this the man that your wife married, mired in his own guilt and self-doubt. Would she have wanted this for you?”

  Finn shook his head. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew what Rachael would have chosen for him – the same thing her daughter had demanded when she tricked him into entering this game.

  Even so, he
couldn’t walk, couldn’t stand up and enter those flames.

  “As I said before, you are what you do. Do you really think that your condition in your world has any bearing on this one?” the Seer whispered in his ear.

  Finn looked at her again. “What are you saying?”

  “I am saying that in this world, your only limitation is yourself.”

  Finn’s eyes drifted down to his legs; his brow furrowed in confusion. He ran his fingers across his thighs, and at first, he felt nothing. But then he could sense a small pressure. His eyes widened in shock, and he tried to move his toes – a faint wiggle. He tried to flex his calves next, and the muscles twitched.

  The Seer offered him a hand. “Do it. Take the leap,” she hissed, her voice more demanding now.

  His heart was racing, Finn’s breath coming in frantic gasps, and sweat was streaming down his face. Without giving himself time to back out, Finn grabbed her hand and surged to his feet all at once. He stumbled awkwardly, unaccustomed to standing after so long in the chair. Yet he didn’t fall.

  The Seer stared at him, her eyes triumphant. “Good,” she purred. Her fingers stroked Finn’s wrist, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Yet she didn’t allow him to focus on that, placing another hand against his face and focusing his gaze on her. “Now you need only enter the flames.”

  Finn looked at the inferno, taking a shambling step forward.

  Then another.

  And another.

  The roaring fire loomed in front of him. The heat was an almost-palpable thing, and the edges of his clothes began to singe, sending streamers of smoke in the air. Sweat streamed down his skin and burned his eyes. Yet he knew he couldn’t die – not really – not in this place.

  He looked behind him and saw the Seer watching him with flaming eyes, the phoenix tapestry hovering behind her. The image on the cloth moved, the fires now consuming the creature as it let out a silent, desperate scream.