by Tom Hansen
Gasps around the circle brought his attention back to the ceremony. Had they all heard the voice? Was the Spiritmother talking to each of them?
He opened his eyes, ignoring the intense heat in front of him.
The torch blazed with a white-hot fire. He placed the striker down and slowly stood up.
Eldermother met his gaze, her brow furrowed in serious contemplation, but the corners of her mouth were quirked up in a slight smile. She nodded to him.
He grabbed the torch with both hands, picking it up and holding it for all to see.
He spun slowly as he chanted; his voice loud and clear as he shouted the words with a reverent intensity.
“Spiritmother is one. Spiritmother is all. Spiritmother is everywhere. Spiritmother is here.”
With that, he touched the white fire to the driftwood stacked in front of him and watched with rapt attention as the fire consumed it.
After it caught, he tossed the torch onto the pile.
Eldermother stepped up beside him, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze, then turned.
“Come, children, let us sing.”
And they did. They all sang the praises of their nation, their race, their goddess, their safety. The white-hot fire continued to blaze higher and higher until the Aspect of the Spiritmother emerged at the top of the spit.
Tales told of a powerful warrior, a gentle mother, a sage leader, and a young maiden, all aspects of the great Spiritmother. No one really knew what She looked like. She appeared to everyone as a different aspect.
It had been years since Scarhoof was able to attend one of these Summer Solstice bonfires. Guards were always needed, and he had generally volunteered for guard duty so the other two could come and celebrate. But he was here now. He was here to witness the annual celebration, the night when everyone may confer directly with the Spiritmother to help guide their paths for the coming year.
The one day a year when all Tau’raj could entreat Her Aspect for personal guidance.
His mother stood atop the bonfire, wreathed in white flames. Her squat frame and short horns reminding him of when he was a Tau’ri. She wore robes of black and white with a wreath of flowers between her dark horns.
She was unmistakably beautiful. Every part of her radiated. Power simmered just under the surface, struggling to burst free.
He hadn’t noticed that he had taken a knee, but he bowed himself to the ground, horns to earth.
“Spiritmother.” His voice was reverent, quiet.
“Please stand, my son.”
Her angelic voice contained an odd accent that he couldn’t place.
Around him, dozens bowed and gazed longingly at the Aspect of the Spiritmother that they saw, enraptured in their own private conversations.
To his right, Eldermother remained prostrate, tears flowing down her snout. Beyond her was Nitene, who held the Yantra-encapsulated shard in her hands.
“It is good to see you alive and well, Matuk. I have been watching you carefully since you began your journey. How has this day treated you?”
He swallowed, his mouth suddenly parched and yearning for water. “It has been a trying day, Spiritmother.”
She smiled, a sweet expression that housed a curious and suspicious air. “Are you settling in to your new role as an adventurer?”
He nodded. “It has been a lot of work, but I am learning. Nitene has been teaching me the inner workings of the Shaman. I strive to serve you, Spiritmother.”
She laughed. Her voice seemed smaller somehow, less regal, and younger. “You must hear yourself speak, it is a delight!”
Something was different about her, something had changed. Her eyes gave her away. They were no-longer filled with power. They were scared but trying to keep the terror at bay. She was worried about him, he could read it all over her face. Spiritmother was worried about him?
“Spiritmother,” he took a step forward, closer to the heat of the blaze, “I must know, what calling do you have for me to follow? What path must I choose I now that I am the only guard remaining in Sunset Cove?”
She pursed her lips and furrowed her eyebrows, her dark eyes sparkling in the firelight. “This question you ask is not easily answered at this time. The world has need of you. I have need of you, Matuk. You have served well so far, but it remains to be seen if you will open your eyes to the true reality of your station.”
She crossed her hands, intertwining them. “It is good to see you healthy, though I didn’t know you would have lost so much memory.”
“What do you mean, Spiritmother?”
She shook her head. “Things are in motion that I cannot reveal. You must grow, learn, and discover for yourself. I will be there to guide you and provide answers, but you must come up with the questions.” She clasped her hands in front of her body, wringing them together. “You are trapped, Matuk, trapped in a way you must discover. But you are also chosen, one of a special few that I watch carefully.
“I see great things in your future, great and terrible things. You have a difficult road ahead, tough choices that you alone must make. I cannot be there for you in all things. I can only guide you to the trough, and hope that you will drink of the waters of knowledge.
“Seek me in the Spiritdream when you have the skills but act quickly before the Tau’raj go to war. The tide of the battle will soon shift if something is not done, and all may be lost before it has begun.”
His mind swam. What was she talking about being trapped? What possible role could he play as a lame guard? His mood darkened at this thought, but he willed himself to be calm.
Her face took on a troubled look. “A dominating darkness rises inside all of us, threatening the lives of many. The fate of Eloria hangs in balance, Matuk. The way of balance may be her salvation. You must discover this darkness and bring it to the light. You alone choose her fate.”
Her hands trembled as she delivered this line. The look in her eyes shook Scarhoof to his core. She was the Goddess of all life on Eloria. What could possibly cause her to be this worried?
She looked at him. A single tear fell from her eye, catching on her cheek.
“You are trapped.”
And with that, she disappeared from his sight.
Quest Available! Eloria’s Salvation (Private Quest):
Something is amiss. The who, what, when, where, why, and how of it are unknown to you. In fact, the quest giver is also obscured. This your quest, your destiny, your purpose. Good luck.
Chapter 17
Scarhoof fell to his knees. He knelt for a long time before opening his eyes. His mind swirled with a myriad thoughts, feelings, and sensations, all coalescing into an overwhelming mass of confusion.
He was trapped? If Spiritmother didn’t give him the quest, who did? What did it all mean? The one thing he could focus on was Her.
The image of the Spiritmother burned into his brain. He had to remember her face. He needed to remember her words.
Everything about this encounter needed to be etched in his memory.
“Matuk.” It was Nitene. He hesitated before opening his eyes, ensuring his emotions were in check.
She stood with Eldermother, both wearing grim expressions.
“We need to talk.”
He nodded and slowly got up. Behind him, the bonfire continued to blaze with a magical intensity. They were quiet in their exit back to Eldermother’s hut.
Nitene offered him a seat, but he refused. There was too much swimming through his mind to sit. He paced back and forth in the tiny hut. Both cows glanced at each other, concern heavy on their faces.
“Scarhoof.” Nitene reached out to grab his hand. Part of him was still angry. He wanted to pull his hand back, refuse her, but he couldn’t. There would be time to ruminate on what Spiritmother told him later. He needed to put that out of his mind for now.
He stopped, bowing his head slightly. “I am sorry, just things she said to me have me concerned.”
They glanced at each other again.
Finally, Nitene grimaced and took his hands in hers. “We know.”
She had his attention. He looked into her eyes. They had both been crying. Sudden concern washed over him, and he squeezed her back. “Are you okay? What is wrong?”
Eldermother gestured at the stool. “Please, Matuk. Sit. We need to talk.”
What the hell was going on? He reluctantly released Nitene’s hands and sat. “What is it?”
Nitene sat beside him and they both looked at each other again. “Spiritmother spoke to both of us, too. She told us that you had to leave us.”
“What? She didn’t tell me that.”
Eldermother interjected. “I think she did. She told you to be willing to do what was needed, to make the tough choices. She told you what you needed to hear to be open to more responsibilities. And to be willing to make the sacrifice of yourself for the betterment of our world.”
He stared at her, wishing his brain would work. Had she told him all of those things? Sudden clarity cleared the fog from his mind, followed by anxiety. His hand twitched, and his scarred hoof itched.
“She wanted me to leave, didn’t she?”
Eldermother pursed her lips, then pulled a scroll from her robe. “I need you to go to the Eternal Plains, deliver this missive to Chieftain Bloodhorn.”
He took the missive, hope spreading through his chest. “That’s it, I can come back after that?”
The two shared glances again.
This was infuriating. He stood, toppling the stool behind him, his tail swishing back and forth, knocking on the upturned leg with a hollow clacking sound. “Out with it! What is it with the glances, the constant hesitation? I’m no Tau’ri that must be coddled and cajoled. Did you think I asked for any of this? I was content being a guard, tilling the fields. I was ok with my lot in life, I knew my place. Tell me or I’m going back to my station at the Cove’s entrance.”
Nitene stood, clearing her throat. Her eyes were soft, despite his tirade.
“Matuk, she told us things about you, things of … another life, a past life. Unbelievable things that I simply cannot comprehend, but I have to believe. This world, this reality she says, is ours, but not yours. You are a visitor, a traveler, and you are here to do great things.”
How could this be true? His mind swam, and his legs were weak. He propped himself against a table for a minute before easing himself to the floor.
Eldermother leaned forward. “I heard the same things, and she told us that she told you something similar, but you might not believe it. So, she asked us to speak to you about it. She told us to tell you not dwell on it too much but know that it is true. The most important thing for you to do now is to continue on with your quests. Take the missive to the Eternal Plains, follow your destiny, and she will call upon you later. She will continue to guide you through this, but you must have faith in her.”
He nodded, listening but overwhelmed. His mind couldn’t process all of this. This was all wrong, all fake somehow. He knew it in his core; something was amiss with Spiritmother. She wasn’t the same.
Something else bothered him, something about her admonition. Why had she told him he was trapped?
A flash of a memory from earlier that day tugged on his mind. Something had happened while he worked the fields. Something had changed.
He rushed outside to the street, looking north toward the farms, past the newly-constructed barn. His mind went back to the morning’s events. He had been planting when the fire—
No, earlier than that.
His mind searched. He knew there was something else there, but his mind refused to remember. He was in the field when the fire—
“Dammit!”
He sensed a presence behind him before he heard the voice. It was Nitene.
“Matuk. Scarhoof.” She walked forward with a measured step, putting a hand in his and looking out past the barn with him.
She leaned in close, so close to him that his hide began to tingle.
His body tightened.
“Don’t try to force it. It will only make it harder. She needs you to focus on the mission at hand right now. Go to the Eternal Plains, take the shards to Chieftain Bloodhorn. Make sure he listens, he can be … stubborn at times.
“But most of all, go find out what Spiritmother has in store for you. It’s so rare for one of to be elevated above our station. The blessings of the Goddess smile upon you. Take up the torch and find your destiny.”
He whirled on her, fire burning inside of him. He wanted to pull her close, kiss her. It felt like the right thing to do.
So, he did.
Her touch shot lances of pleasure up and down his body. She smelled like the ocean and tasted like sweet honey. He yearned for her, wanted her. It felt wonderful and confusing all at once. Her mouth was … a lot more squishy than he thought it would be.
She pulled away, seeming embarrassed. Eldermother stood on the porch, she let out a cackle. “Don’t stop because of me. It’ll do you both a lot of good! You want to borrow my hut?”
Nitene let go of him, shying away for a moment before meeting his gaze.
His body was a bundle of nerves waiting to explode. He wanted to pick her up and take Eldermother up on her offer, but something inside of him told him to hold back. Now wasn’t the time. The look on Nitene’s face matched what he felt.
She cupped his snout, and a warm smile spread across her nervous face. She was so soft, both in body and spirit.
She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a package, holding it out to him. “Go, Matuk. I will be here. And don’t forget to see the Shaman Trainer while you’re out there to continue your training.”
His insides roiled. Someone needed to deliver the missive to the Chieftain, but the cove couldn’t stay unguarded. He would return.
He took the package from her, the humming of the shards inside made the tips of his fingers tingle with spiritual energy.
He bowed. “I will.”
“Oh, and Matuk.”
He glanced up. Part of him was hoping she wanted another kiss.
Her face was so sweet, so pained. He wanted to reach out to her, hold her close.
“Come back to me.” Tears flowed down her fur and dripped to the ground below.
“I will.” He winked and spun on his good hoof.
As he headed back to his hut to pack up his belongings, he glanced at all the quests that had piled up while he was ignoring them.
Quest Available! The Fight for the Eternal Plains:
Eldermother asked you to venture into the Eternal Plains, and deliver a missive to Gaagii Bloodhorn, Chieftain of the Tau’raj in Whistling Pass.
Quest Update! A Spreading Sickness:
Nitene asks you to take both shards to the Chieftain in the Eternal Plains. (Gained 50 XP!)
Interlude Two
“We are here with the President and CEO of Epoch International, Arthur Geralt, known in The louVRe as Agamemnon. How are you doing today?”
Agamemnon sat, as cozy as in his own favorite chair back home. This was because he was home, sitting comfortably, connected to The louVRe and in his favorite business suit. He liked being dressed for the occasion, even if the whole interview took place in VR.
“I’m doing well, Cynthia, thank you for asking.” He was in his element; talking to the press. It had always surprised him how well he had taken to this portion of the company. Most scientists weren’t able to make the transition and deal with the media, but he had.
Across from him, Cynthia Greene, the blonde-haired blue-eyed beauty of late-night conservative news crossed her legs for the second time since they went live. Unlike him, she was clearly nervous about this interview. His software HUD pointed out that her real-life fingers trembled, one of the many benefits of running the software platform on which you met.
The louVRe wasn’t for everyone. Ten percent of the population had troubles handling the virtual world, getting seasick, feeling anxious, nauseous or claustrophobic.
She glanced at her notebook, as-if she actually needed to read it; the words were plastered in the air above his head. VR was amazing, but old habits die hard.
“So, tell us about “The louVRe Adventure.”
“Well, it’s a Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game, or MMORPG for short. It’s a world, similar to The louVRe we’re in now, where everything around you is not real, but it feels real. It’s a fantasy world, similar to many video games out today. The world’s name is Eloria. It has three large continents, ten races of characters to play, and a limitless number of quests to complete.”
“And these ten races, you have humans?”
He nodded, a casual smile on his face. “Of course. We also have Dwarves, Litlins, which are basically Halflings. We also have snake-like humanoids called Nagos, Minotaurs called Tau’raj, water-based creatures known as Havren, oh and Goblins. It’s quite an eclectic collection of experiences.”
“The only people who can play this game are those with the,” she tapped her head with her middle finger, “chip in their head?”
He sat forward. The LDNI chipset was a sore spot among the more conservative groups, frequently running news pieces slamming the chip. All three Abrahamic religions, and even the Buddhists came out actively against it for their members.
He looked her in the eye. “Now Cynthia, we’re not here to debate the merits of the implants, are we?” He winked, then sat back, hoping that would diffuse any more questions of that nature. “This is the most realistic virtual reality simulation the world has ever seen. We only allow those over twenty-one years of age access to even purchase the implants, which are very costly and must be performed by a trained and certified brain surgeon. This game is limited to those who meet the requirements.”
