by Rachel Aaron
The room fell silent at that, and James took his chance. “I want to stay and help defend Windy Lake against what’s coming,” he said earnestly. “But I have to warn the king. No one else has this information, that I know of, and if the king doesn’t learn of it before the undead attack, Bastion will fall for sure. I also don’t believe that one player, even a level eighty, is going to be enough to protect you. Even if we did beat back the chaos that’s coming to the savanna, the Once King’s armies are marching. They’re not going to stop at Bastion. You need strong allies now more than ever if you’re going to survive the next few months, and the gnolls are willing and able. I know you have centuries of bad blood between you, but if the clans want their honor to live on for another year, you need to listen to Thunder Paw, not kill him, because he might be the only way you’re getting out of this alive.”
He sat down after that, panting with the rush. As he looked around the room, though, James began to worry he’d done his job too well. All he’d wanted was to convince them they needed to take this seriously and keep Thunder Paw alive, but the ring of leaders around him looked sick with fear. Thinking back on what he’d just said, James couldn’t blame them. He hadn’t realized just how bad a picture he’d painted until it was done, but between the local quests that weren’t getting finished and the Once King’s coming army, their situation was downright apocalyptic.
“Are we doomed?” Gray Fang whispered, her face tight. “Even if we swallowed our pride and allied with the gnolls, do we stand a chance against so many enemies?”
James wasn’t sure, but before he could think of what to say, Ar’Bati leaped to his feet.
“We have more than a chance,” the warrior said. “We have James!” He looked down at his new brother over their father’s head. “You know how to fix all of this, don’t you? Just like you knew how to take apart Red Canyon. You’ve done all these quests. I know you have! You can tell us how to solve these problems.”
James nodded with a gulp as the room once against fixated on him. “I can list all of the questlines in this zone and tell you how to handle them, but I’m not sure how much good it will do. Now that this isn’t a game anymore, everything’s gone off the script, including the villains. My intel’s getting older by the hour, so—”
“So we must move quickly before too much changes,” finished Rend, putting a possessive arm around James’s shoulders. “Fetch a scribe!”
“Fetch two scribes!” called Gray Fang, her eyes locked on James with deadly intensity. “You will tell us everything you know, and when dawn comes, we will send our warriors to complete these tasks and defend our home.”
James nodded, happy to help. “And Thunder Paw?”
Gray Fang glanced at the others. “We will meet with him.”
He let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”
“Thank us by saying what you know,” Rend growled, motioning impatiently as a young jubatus scrambled into the lodge, carrying a quill and a stack of grass-fiber papers.
The leaders of the Four Clans grilled James until dawn. Before he could describe the quests, though, he first had to explain Forever Fantasy Online the game, clarifying terms like aggro, player, NPC, levels, and so on. Once the elders had enough shared vocabulary to understand what he was telling them, James went on to explain the situations behind each of the savanna’s questing hubs as well as the enemy’s levels, skull ratings, and locations of all important quest items.
By the end of it, he felt like a human wiki. Even for a hardcore FFO nerd like him, it was a challenge to recall everything, and some of his accounts were embarrassingly vague. There were many quests that James had only done once then skipped on future replays because they were annoying, so sometimes the elders had to settle for descriptions like “that tent with the two guys who argue a lot” or “that one big lizard who ate the Schtumple wearing the bowler hat.”
Fortunately, his added Intelligence gear made him great at remembering minutiae, so his descriptions never got too bad. Also, having been a quest giver himself, Ar’Bati knew a great deal about Windy Lake’s local problems, and while his questline had been resolved with the end of the undead in Red Canyon, there were several minor quests that he knew much better than James did.
By the time the sun rose, the two scribes had recorded over a hundred different quests. Even James was shocked by the number now that he saw them all listed, but the elders looked positively defeated.
“How did things get this bad in only eighty years?” Gray Fang said.
“It was the game!” someone hissed in reply. “And the players. They’re the ones all of this was for!”
James winced as another round of bile and vitriol for FFO swept the room, but at least now none of it was directed at him. It was weird sitting right next to his adopted father as the man cursed players and wished blood-chilling violence upon them with one breath only to turn and offer James a drink of water the next, grinning at him like a proud father who never got tired of showing off how useful and important his son was. But while the hate still made him uncomfortable, James couldn’t help but smile back whenever the broad-shouldered jubatus beamed at him.
It was just so different. At home, he avoided his parents as much as possible out of shame, and they never sought him out. Tina didn’t acknowledge him unless she needed a healer for her raids, and even among his extended family, no one ever asked him, “How’s it going?” because the only direction James ever seemed to go was down. That was why, as strange as it was having an adopted family of magical, bloodthirsty cat-people who’d wanted to kill him less than eight hours ago, James found himself enjoying every second.
Even with the reality of just how screwed Windy Lake was looming over their heads, the sheer joy of not being a failure for once—especially when his success involved his crazily in-depth knowledge of FFO, a hobby he’d always felt guilty for loving because it seemed like a waste of time—was indescribable. He could have sat there rattling off quests forever, but as the dawn crept higher in the sky, the questions got harder to hear. By the time the sun broke through the flap covering the lodge’s door, James realized suddenly that he couldn’t remember what anyone had said for the last several minutes. He was trying to get himself back together when Rend’s hand landed roughly on his shoulder.
“James!”
“I’m awake,” he said reflexively.
“But you shouldn’t be,” Gray Fang said, standing up stiffly from her large pillow. “We need to end this. We already have much to do, and it’s been two days since these two”—she pointed at James and Ar’Bati, who’d fallen asleep sitting up—“last slept. They need rest if they’re to be any use to us, but we’ve learned what we need. Today, our war parties will ride out to deal with those threats they can manage while we clan leaders talk with the gnolls of Red Canyon. Everything else will flow from there.”
There were lots of nods and noises of agreement as the group of elders stretched, yawned, and dispersed. As they left the lodge, their assistants were given piles of written orders to deliver to the warriors who’d be running quests. Meanwhile, James woke up Fangs in the Grass, and the two of them wearily followed their father back to the Claw Born family’s collection of yurts near the town center.
Once inside the spacious tent, James barely managed to greet the rest of his new extended family before falling face-first onto the bed Rend pointed at. The moment he hit the soft hides, he was out, his Eclipsed Steel Staff falling from his limp fingers as he sank into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter 19
Tina and James
James woke up what felt like only moments later with an elegant older jubatus lady he didn’t know in his face.
“Up, James. Up!” she said briskly, whipping off his blankets.
Alarmed, James staggered out of bed. He was still trying to figure out what was going on when his chest armor was politely shoved into his hands. His cleaned chest armor. James didn’t know how it was possible, but all the stains of
blood and mud were gone from the leather, and the scuffs had been buffed out. Even the damaged stitching had been replaced with magically appropriate thread. The armor had also had a large yellow claw insignia added to the front and back, taking up most of his torso.
“Dress, quick, quick!” the jubatus lady said. “The sun is high, and there’s a lot to do.” A young girl entered with two plates of fish as she finished, eyeing James nervously before setting them down and scurrying away. The lady smiled and pointed at a sitting cushion in front the food. “Eat!”
James put on his newly marked armor, then sat down where she ordered. “I’m sorry,” he said as politely as he could. “But who are you?”
“Don’t be silly,” the jubatus lady said with a charming laugh. “I’m your mother, Acacia Claw Born.”
James almost choked on his bite of fish. The elegant woman in front of him was nothing like the jovial, casually violent Rend. Every hair and whisker was in place, and her red-and-gold robe was scarfed and belted perfectly at all points. Even the kohl outlining her golden eyes was flawlessly pointed at the tips. Everything about her screamed formality and class, which left James wondering how in the world a woman like this had ended up with Ar’Bati for a son.
“Keep eating,” his adopted mother scolded. “There’s not much morning left, and yours is full! First, you have to be apprenticed to Elder Gray Fang. Then you’ll be joining your father for the clan heads’ meeting with Thunder Paw. Once that business is settled, you’ll be sent to Bastion as our emissary to deliver the scrolls you found to the king. I’d prefer to come with you since I am the clans’ appointed ambassador to Bastion, but I can’t leave Rend alone to conduct peace talks. I don’t want to return and find Lilac married to a gnoll!”
She chuckled at that, then her face grew serious again. “I know you have no idea how to represent us properly, so I’m sending your brother Fangs in the Grass with you. Rend can lead the warriors in the Ar’Bati’s absence. He’ll enjoy that.”
She smiled at James, whose head was spinning from so much information at once. “Thank you for arranging everything,” he managed at last. “And for cleaning my armor.”
“But of course, dear,” Acacia said. “We couldn’t have you running around looking like a bandit! You’re a Claw Born now. Your actions and appearance reflect on us all, and speaking of, can I convince you to not brandish around that piece of blasphemy?”
She pointed at the corner, and James turned to see his Eclipsed Steel Staff propped against the tent wall, its black metal wrapped in a white sheet and bound with wooden sealing charms.
“I could feel its dark presence from outside the tent,” his new mother said, wrinkling her nose. “Please tell me you’ll get rid of it. It’s not proper for a Claw Born.”
“I’ll find a way to be rid of it in Bastion,” James promised, taking another bite of fish. “I have lots of proper weapons and armor in the bank that I can use to replace this stuff, assuming the bank is still okay.” At her alarmed look, he quickly added, “It’s all Naturalist gear, nothing you’d disapprove of.”
“Just make sure to wear our crest when you’re in Bastion,” she said sternly. “Never forget that you’re representing Windy Lake and the pride of the Claw Born.” She tapped her foot while he took one more bite of fish, then she leaned down to whisk the plate away. “That’s enough! There’ll be time for more later. Now go to the main lodge! Gray Fang is already waiting for you, and don’t forget to greet your sister, Lilac, as well! She needs a chance to thank you before you leave.”
James’s stomach was still growling, but she’d already shoved his things into his hands and hurried him out of the Claw Borns’ large yurt, closing the flap with as much finality as heavy hide could manage. Gripping his bag and wrapped staff with a sigh, James turned and started toward the lodge. Elder Gray Fang was waiting when he got there, standing in the doorway with her gray tail lashing in annoyance.
“You’re late,” she said as he climbed the stairs.
“Sorry, um…” James trailed off. “What should I call you now? Teacher? Sensei? Elder?” The correct address was important. Propriety was clearly a huge thing among the jubatus, and he didn’t want to give more offense than he already had, especially since Gray Fang already looked mad enough to spit nails.
“It doesn’t matter,” she growled. “This whole apprenticeship idea is ridiculous. You probably know more about magic than I do.”
James flicked an ear in surprise. That was not what he’d expected her to be angry about. “Not at all,” he said respectfully. “You’re a master of nature magic. I only know a dozen or so very specific spells.”
“You’re joking,” Gray Fang said scornfully. “No one with your power can possibly be that ignorant.”
“Sadly, I’m dead serious,” James replied. “Player power is highly specialized. I’d love to learn more about how magic actually works from someone as revered and wise as you.”
He finished with a smile, hoping that Gray Fang wasn’t immune to flattery. Hopes that were rewarded when her gray ears pricked up.
“I can show you a few things,” she said, her voice less gruff. “So long as you remember who’s the student around here. Honestly, it’ll be nice to have someone who can do the mana-heavy work. I’m getting too old for the really exhausting stuff.” She tilted her head at James, then she gave him something close to a smile. “I’ll begin your training once you return from Bastion. For now, though, you should go inside. I told Lilac you’d visit her this morning, but don’t take long. The peace talks are starting soon, and after all the work you did terrifying us into accepting them, I’m sure you won’t want to be late.”
James promised to hurry and ducked into the empty lodge. After a minute of poking around, he found a cot in one of the side rooms, and lying on top of it was the young cheetah-girl who’d been poisoned a few days ago. His new sister, Scout Lilac.
“Are you James?” she asked, opening her eyes, which were the same golden as Acacia’s.
“I am. Hi.” James twisted his hands, not sure what to actually say. “I’m…I suppose I’m your new brother. Big family, right?”
She smiled weakly, and James glanced down at the magic running through her lifelines. As expected given what she’d been through, the glow was weak, but he saw no traces of necromancy or the ghostfire, and he exhaled with relief.
Her smile widened at the sound. “I’m all right now, thanks to you and Fangs,” she said, lifting her arm to show him the healing arrow wound. “Grandmother says I’ll be able to go back to work in a few more days. Thank you so much for saving me.”
James was about to say it was nothing when her head suddenly shot up.
“Was that the last time I have to do this?”
The fear in her voice made him wince. “Yes,” he said firmly. “You got caught in the last of the Nightmare’s momentum. But the lich is dead now, and the gnolls are free. You’ll never be poisoned again.”
“Thank the wind and grass,” Lilac said, flopping back on her cot. “Ever since I was cured, I’ve been lying here terrified that I’d just wake up in the canyon where they always ambush me and everything would start again. I’ve suffered that poison for eighty years. Sometimes players would save me, and I’d get a few hours of relief. Other times…”
Her thin hands flew up to her face, but she couldn’t hide the tears that trickled down her mottled tan fur. “In the beginning, it wasn’t so bad,” she whispered. “I was almost always saved. These last few decades, though, the players stopped coming. More often than not, I would die burning and turn undead, killing everyone until the next dawn, when it would start all over again. I knew every minute by heart, but I couldn’t do anything differently. I couldn’t save myself.”
James had no idea what to say. He couldn’t imagine going through what she’d suffered even once, let alone thousands of times. Outside, a pair of crows cawed loudly, highlighting the awkward quiet as his sister wept. He was desperately struggling for some
way to comfort her when she reached up to grab his arm.
He jumped at the touch. Her hand was terrifyingly thin, and her skin felt papery beneath the fur, but her eyes were intense as she stared up at him. “You have to listen to me,” she said, her weak voice urgent. “I know better than anyone here what the ghostfire does. It doesn’t just burn. It fills you with the voice of the Once King. Fills you with his hate.”
Her hand began to shake, and James grabbed it with his. “It’s okay now,” he said. “We broke the orb in Red Canyon for good. You’ll never have to feel that again.”
“And I can’t tell you how grateful I am for that,” Lilac said. “But there’s still something I must tell you.”
She pulled him closer. James allowed it reluctantly, worried this had something to do with Rend’s engagement nonsense. When they were almost whisker to whisker, though, he realized she was afraid.
“Every time I turned and was forced to attack my family and friends, I heard the Once King in my head,” she whispered. “During the Nightmare, no one could talk. Not freely, anyway. I couldn’t say anything but my quest text while I was being poisoned, but once the ghostfire consumed me, I could hear his voice. I don’t know how, but the Once King could talk to me. Actually talk in words not bound by the game.”
James hunched closer, awkwardness forgotten. “What did he say?”
“Madness, mostly,” Lilac said sadly. “Sometimes he would recite poetry. Other times he ordered us around, telling us to go here or there, do this or that. I couldn’t, of course, and that enraged him. He kept thinking I was a new recruit every time, and he’d always be angry that I wasn’t following orders. But once, only once, he said something amazing.”
