Scrambled Lives

by Rue Vespers

  “A little,” Jenner lied. He knew which end was the sharp one, which counted as a little.

  “Now that there,” the man said, pointing to a groove in the blade, “is not a blood groove, no matter what people tell you. It simply lightens the blade. Oh, and you’ll need the sheath.” Another code was pressed, and a slim black sheath was offered.

  Jenner accepted it in wonder. “Thank you, Master Tosco.”

  Congrats! You have acquired a Thimbault dagger, an agile fighting knife popular among human players.

  “Kid, he just wants you to be his red-shirt!” Rosy yowled.

  “Rosy, I want to go!” Jenner cried, attaching the sheathed dagger to his belt. “If I don’t have to fight, what does it matter? All I’m going to do is carry around weapons, and then I can afford armor and combat classes.”

  “Then you give Jenner here a health potion!” Rosy yelled at Master Tosco, infuriated. “Knock it off his share of payment if he uses it, but you give one to him before he sets foot on that boat!”

  Jenner turned red from embarrassment.

  “But of course,” Master Tosco said amiably. He pulled open the side of his fine black cloak. Small weapons and ampoules were sewn to the lining. Plucking out a corked ampoule of green solution with a mixture of sparks and dark flecks floating about inside, he handed it over to Jenner.

  “Let me see!” Rosy demanded, doing somersaults in the air to get Jenner’s attention. “I know what it should look like! I came to life in a fucking wizarding lab. LET ME SEE, DAMMIT!”

  Jenner thrust it squarely in front of the teacup’s little eyes. “There! You’re seeing it! Happy?”

  Rosy stared at the ampoule and said in disapproval, “That’s demon-grade, not wizard-grade.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  Snippily, the cup said, “Demon-grade potions are cheap, and they’re cheap because they’re impure, and being impure makes them unreliable. Their witches are sloppy as hell with what goes into their cauldrons.”

  “But it’s real?”

  Rosy sniffed. Begrudgingly, the cup said, “It’s real. It’s just cheap as shit and won’t be as good. Put it in your purse and you,” the you was addressed to Master Tosco, and none too politely, “buy quality in the future!”

  “Please excuse my teacup,” Jenner said as he stowed the ampoule away. He didn’t want Master Tosco to think that he allowed a pink-and-white teacup to boss him around. “Manners aren’t Rosy’s strong point.”

  Rosy leaped onto Jenner’s shoulder. “When did manners keep anyone from getting scrambled?” it asked.

  “I must confess,” a bemused Master Tosco said as the spoon lifted from the cup and whacked Jenner’s ear. “This is the first sentient teacup I have encountered in this game.”

  “It’s a glitch,” Jenner explained tightly, ignoring the angry taps of the spoon. Just his luck to run into a glitch on his first day in Scrambled Lives.

  “Ah! A game glitch!” Master Tosco studied the teacup with more interest as the symbol in the gold wire shifted to the shape of a tulip. “Yes, glitches do happen, as Shirvath discovered to her detriment. I’ve heard tales that The Hole still appears and swallows up entire ships, though I’ve never spoken to anyone who’s seen it in person. Well then!” He motioned to the door. “We can’t stand around in the armory chatting all morning or we’ll miss the boat! My bag is over here, caddy.”

  The spoon hit Jenner’s ear again.

  He swept the cup and spoon off his shoulder and shoved them into his pocket. Picking up a heavy black bag that clunked and clanked against his back, he hurried out of the armory after Master Tosco.

  Chapter Nine

  Congrats! You are on your way to the Fortune Islands!

  Inner-World News: Historically, the Fortune Islands were a source of tremendous conflict within Talvenor. Many wizarding, shifter, and demon Houses waged war over their ownership, claiming the vast, renewable riches for themselves, until the newly founded High Council declared the islands open to all.

  Fun Fact Time! Like monsters? The Fortune Islands are full of them! Regenerating each time the islands rise above the water, you can try your hand at bringing down a harpy or trapping a krokora. The greatest treasures await the daring within the mountains . . . but so does death for those who dally too long in returning.

  Jenner was sitting on the deck of the Halvas, one of five boats sailing through the Ends for the Fortune Islands. Clusters of treasure hunters stood about or sat at tables bolted to the rocking floorboards. The majority were human, but the wind blew back the hoods of two pale, lithe figures with pointed ears, presumably elves, and here and there were twosomes and threesomes of thickset, bushy-haired dwarves with hammers of varying sizes hanging from their belts. There was even a troll with a dimwitted look on his face. It was identical to Dan the Troll, but minus the intelligence and speaking ability. Wearing nothing but a loincloth, it lumbered after a trio of wizards wherever they went on the deck. Unlike the rest of the hunters, who were speaking companionably to one another, the wizards kept strictly to themselves.

  Everyone was so confident, at ease with the weapons on their backs and belts. Many had amulets like Master Tosco’s, too. Jenner wanted to be like that. Assured. He kept catching himself by surprise when he looked down and saw his new dagger.

  When he glanced up at a feminine laugh, he realized he was wrong to assume that most of these people were human. A tall, raven-haired woman was sinking smaller and smaller upon the deck. Her hair grew longer and curled around her body. Then she was a panther for a clapping audience before she shifted back to her human form. “I had to reach Level 12 before I stopped looking like a cute little kitten!” she cried. “Now I’m Level 19 and I’m still considered small for a werecat.”

  “I was the fattest dragonling that anyone had ever seen in my den!” said a man who had been applauding for her. He was wearing a great deal of jewelry: rings on each finger, tangled gold chains around his neck, even sparkling hair clips. “I couldn’t beat my wings hard enough to get more than a couple of inches off the ground. And now . . .” He began to shine radiantly in the sun, his skin wrapping with golden scales. “It took until Level 14 for me to even out.”

  His last words came out a roar: the man was gone and a snake-like dragon with six legs and four wings was in his place. He lifted up into the air and soared above the boat with a ululating cry.

  More dragons flew up to join him from the Fortune Islands-bound boats, their scales dazzling in gold and silver and ruby and emerald and sapphire. Some were as big as houses; others were the size of cars; a few were only half-grown and had to beat their wings fast to keep up.

  As it was a voyage of two hours to reach the islands, Jenner was contenting himself in people-watching. The crew came by every half an hour with mugs of ale, though most passengers save the dwarves did not accept. You didn’t want to be drunk on the Fortune Islands, or even buzzed it seemed, so Jenner shook his head every time ale was offered to him.

  There were plenty of caddies aboard, which was comforting. Master Tosco hadn’t brought him along to screw him over. Many upper-level players had someone to mind their equipment. Or more than one. Several caddies around the boat were busily inspecting their masters’ and mistresses’ belongings, sharpening knives and organizing potions. Since Master Tosco had given Jenner no instructions after boarding, he simply sat with the black bag at his side while the grizzled man joked about in a group seated at a table.

  Another master was giving his caddy a lesson in sword-fighting. Berating him, more to the truth. “No! No! You move your feet this way, you fumbling, blundering lummox! The sword is a dance.” The bearded master demonstrated the steps again, but they were far too complicated for Jenner to follow.

  Another mug was lowered to him. “No, thank you,” he said.

  The Halvas crewmember with the tray of mugs gave Jenner’s pants a look of concern. “Is everything all right, sir?”

  His pocket was jumping. He cl
amped his hand down over Rosy. “Just fine.”

  Once the crewmember went away, he took Rosy out and spoke before the teacup could. “Uh-uh. You don’t hit me, and you don’t tell me that I shouldn’t be doing this.”

  Rosy immediately whacked the spoon against Jenner’s fingers. Not hard, but to make a point. “You shouldn’t be doing this!”

  “Do you need to go back into my pocket?”

  “Yeah, shove me in there so I can smell your crotch some more! I love me some good manly crotch stank.” The spoon returned to the cup and rattled around inside testily. “You know what your problem is?”

  “Tell me my problem,” Jenner said.

  “You’re treating this like a game.”

  “This is a game.”

  “This is the real world. Yeah, it’s a game. There are monsters and battles and treasure hoards and magical amulets, but fuck, Gramma, people are people everywhere!” the teacup cried. “Whether they’re in the outer-world or in this inner-world, they’re people, and people will fuck you over and walk away with your purse. People always put themselves first, so you need to watch your front and your back and your sides while you’re at it, because you aren’t anything to them but a helpful tool to be used and then discarded.”

  Jenner looked over the teacup to Master Tosco dubiously.

  The guy noticed his gaze and got up with a smile. “Excuse me,” he said to his tablemates.

  Two wooden practice swords suddenly appeared in his hands from nowhere. He crossed the deck and chucked one to Jenner, who dropped Rosy to catch it.

  “Would you like a basic sword lesson, too?” Tosco said as the instructing master exploded at his caddy for doing the steps wrong again. “No better place than on deck. That’s where I got my first lesson, right here on the planks of this very boat.”

  Jenner scrambled up to his feet. “Why is this a good place to learn?”

  “Because a swordsman,” Master Tosco said, shifting from side to side with his sword, “needs to be light on his feet. Not static, nor dancing, but seamlessly rolling from one form to another as his balance is challenged by his terrain and his opponent.”

  Sniffing at the jab about dancing, the other master grabbed the sword from his caddy and barked, “That’s enough for today.” The two sat down at a table, the master looking away from Tosco in dislike and the caddy watching Tosco intently.

  As the boat rocked upon the waves, Master Tosco reached out with his practice weapon and slapped the wooden sword out of Jenner’s hand. It skittered across the deck to Rosy, who leaped up to clear it. “Watch out, dick-weed!” the teacup yelled at Tosco, who just laughed.

  Chasing after the sword in embarrassment, Jenner lifted it and tightened his grip on the handle. He returned to his place, thankful that few people were paying any attention to the lesson.

  “That happened from you being static,” Master Tosco explained. “You did not bend, so you absorbed the full impact of my strength. When we are back on dock, you save up your coins for a true master represented by a guild. Not those classes taught by Level 6 idiots with big egos and two or three fun facts to rub together. There is no discipline in creation packed with as many fools as the art and science of the sword.”

  He lashed out again. This time, Jenner rolled with the blow and kept hold of his sword.

  “Good, good!” Master Tosco said warmly. “You are learning already. A troll can be static in a fight, since a troll is far stronger than you and outweighs you by several hundred pounds. An elf can dance, since an elf is far more agile than you and moves at three times your speed. But you, you roll. You glide. You search for weakness. You search for repetition. You search for your opportunity to strike a blow, letting your opponent believe you are doing one thing while instead doing another.”

  The master with the beard sniffed louder. The pair of elves nodded in approval, making Jenner certain that Master Tosco was an excellent teacher.

  By the time the lesson was over, Jenner was coated in sweat. The blocks flew back in front of his eyes as Rosy returned to his shoulder, the teacup throwing silent shade to Master Tosco as the practice swords vanished.

  Congrats! Your sword skills have increased from 0 to 1.

  Congrats! You have earned a merit trophy for The Pointy End Goes That Way!

  “Ho!”

  The boat slowed and coasted up to a line of orange buoys bobbing in the gentle waves. The golden dragon swooped down with a joyful cry and jumped back on deck as a man. “Caddy!” he shouted. “Get my things together! It’s almost time!”

  The rest of the fleet was stopping at the buoys as well, yet there were no islands anywhere. Jenner was confused. There was just the sea, rippling calmly in the breeze under an empty blue bowl of sky.

  “Time?” the cat shifter shouted.

  “Now!” a crewmember replied.

  Then it began.

  The waves changed all of a sudden, each one rolling in higher and stronger than the one to precede it. The boats bobbed hard and then harder until Jenner was clinging to the railing in the violent rocking. Caddies yelled and ran after sliding belongings; Jenner stomped on the strap of Master Tosco’s bag to hold it there.

  White froth appeared in the sea, and distant geysers shot upwards into the sky. With roars they bellowed forth for several exuberant seconds. As the droplets fell back, green rocks pushed through the surface of the water. They grew taller and taller, the sea swirling at the bases and splashing hard against the sides.

  They weren’t rocks. They were the tops of hills. No. Those were mountain peaks! Jenner clung desperately to the railing as the sea roiled and the mountains stretched ever upwards. The canopies of giant trees growing along the mountain sides lifted up, drops peppering down from their leaves.

  The chain of islands swiftly took shape in hills and forests, valleys and white sand beaches, tipping from side to side to shake out the ocean water before settling down. Each island had its own harbor ringed by rock walls, and a quiet dock ready to receive fortune hunters. The waves diminished with the settling of the islands.

  Fun Fact Time! These five islands have had many individual names over the years, depending on the House to rule them. Currently they are known by the difficulty levels of their monsters: Easy Street, Normal, Hard Mode, Extreme, and Unlockable. Unlockable can only be visited by players above Level 50 unless they have acquired a cheat code, though this is inadvisable.

  “Which island are we going to?” Jenner asked, releasing his death grip on the railing.

  “Hard Mode,” Rosy said dismally. “Someone over there said Halvas is the boat for Hard Mode. You’re dead, kid.”

  “I’m not dead!” Jenner argued. “Come on, where’s your sense of adventure? We aren’t going to Extreme or Unlockable. You just don’t like Master Tosco. But answer me this: why would he bother giving me a sword lesson if he was just going to use me for a red-shirt?”

  Rosy shook its handle in quiet disagreement.

  The five captains resumed piloting to shore, the fleet splitting apart with one boat headed to each island. The Eches was likely going to the island called Easy Street; there were so many players on deck that they hardly had room to move, and the boat was riding low in the water. The Answan had to be headed for Normal, as it was nearly as crowded as the Eches. Jenner’s boat wasn’t anywhere near capacity, which was disheartening, but he counted only three dozen heads on the Onomai, and a scant six on the Triton. The Triton was definitely the boat for Unlockable. Unlockable was the only one of the five islands covered in a veil of mist, obscuring its features.

  As the Halvas neared shore, the players queued at the two exits along the right side of the boat, throwing out the bumpers themselves rather than lose their place to let the crew through. Caddies hitched the bags over their shoulders and shadowed the upper-level players who hired them.

  Master Tosco stayed back, leaning against a post as the fortune hunters looked over the side anxiously. He beckoned Jenner to him with a lazy crook of his fi
nger. Just as Jenner nodded, the boat nudged against the dock.

  The friendly atmosphere among the passengers devolved in an instant into a scene of total chaos. Still in the process of settling Master Tosco’s bag of weapons over his shoulder, Jenner stepped away from them hurriedly. The fortune hunters were all fighting to disembark at once through the two exits, but the little swinging doors to the dock only fit one at a time. “Hurry up!” “Hurry it up!” “Move!” “What’s taking so long? MOVE!”

  The panther and dragon shifters were off first, simply turning into their animals to leap and fly away. The elves leaped nimbly around everyone and were gone, their cloaked forms disappearing into the trees within seconds. Other players jumped off the railing rather than wait their turn for the doors, most of them making it to the planks but a few splashing into the narrow channel of water between the boat and dock. A caddy went down that way, overladen with heavy bags dragging him under. He did not reappear. Far more upset about her lost weapons than her caddy, a woman in armor stalked along the dock and raged at the sea about how much money she’d just lost in equipment.

  The troll was causing a fair amount of the bedlam itself by rudely knocking people aside to make a path for the wizards. Once they were upon the dock, the wizards pointed their wands together at the beach. Three jagged arcs of silver lightning shot out of the wand tips and connected with an explosion that blinded Jenner.

  When his vision cleared, the wizards were mounting a chariot drawn by two winged white horses. After the troll was aboard, the horses beat their wings and the chariot lifted upwards into the sky, flying after the dragon towards the mountain clear across the island.

  Passenger after passenger spilled out onto the dock, shoving one another out of the way and yelling to their caddies to step sharp and keep up. A dwarf was knocked down by a swinging bag and came up with an outraged roar. He threw a hammer and hit the man to accidentally strike him. The guy fell over with a cry, blood running down his face, and scrabbled at his pocket for a green ampoule.