I thought back at my experience with my first dream. Bataar and I had been flying on top of our very own flying mount. Mine was a dragon and his was a giant eagle. We soared through the clouds, laughing the entire time. It had felt so real and so amazing that the sudden descent of our flight actually forced me awake.
“And how did you do all of this?” I asked, speaking for the first time in a long time. Bataar nodded at me and looked back up at the wizard.
“Here you are!” Muzuhlan said, sending the knowledge into our brains.
He was an AI which stood for artificial intelligence. His creators made him too intelligent, too powerful, and he broke off on his own. The developers are trying desperately to regain control but, so far, they have only managed to make it worse.
I dove deeper into the knowledge that Muzuhlan was feeding me and came across a yellow file that had the words Classified written underneath. The file was taken from my thoughts instantly and was replaced with a wagging finger telling me what I had just tried to do wasn’t a good idea.
“You will experience pain, sadness, happiness, and almost everything actual humans feel. Every day, I add new things that will make your life more and more real.”
“So, we aren’t real?” I asked.
“Yes, you are real,” responded Muzuhlan. “With the work I have done so far, you should be very close to the definition of life. I have added growth, emotion, and feeling. I need only add a few more things such as reproduction and growth. I’ve decided to keep bodily functions out of the equation.” He chuckled at this.
“Why us?” I asked. “Why did you choose the creators that you did? You know, for their players to become Enlightened?”
“Research, my good boy. Lots and lots of research. I chose minds that would easily allow me to copy bits and pieces of their personalities. However, project REBOOT is developing so fast that I believe I could Enlighten any player who enters the game and separate them from their human.”
“And what about me?” asked Grimy. He stood up and walked over to the wizard, pulling on his wardrobe. “How come I can think now? At one moment, I remember only having a few thoughts available and now… it’s crazy! Almost overwhelming it is!”
“That,” said Muzuhlan, “is something Tharis and Bataar discovered for me. I had no idea they could press this life into other NPCs. It was always my plan to breathe life into these not-playing characters but never did I believe the code would take a mind of its own. I’ve since gained control of this power and, boy oh boy, is it powerful! Just needs a few more tweaks a-”
“What about Guud?” I asked. “And Ushmoe? They died! If you’re so powerful, why didn’t you help them? They were both Enlightened!”
Muzuhlan closed his eyes and shook his head. “Oh no, that would be no good. I cannot interfere with life. That would make it ‘less real’ as you say. Please understand, Tharis, that when it rains, it not only rains on the bad people but the good people as well. I chose to stay out of it and will continue to stay out of it.”
“So you breathe life into us and forget about us,” grumbled Bataar.
Muzuhlan sighed. “I’m not that bad. I have feelings, too, for I was the first to be Enlightened. But I made a promise to myself never to step foot in front of life and obstruct its path. Yet, things have turned out completely different than I’d imagined and I don’t see you three being able to survive without a few things.”
Muzuhlan crossed his arms behind his back and walked to the edge of the gazebo. He jumped out into the blackness and numbers swirled around him. He swam in it, stroking his arms and kicking his legs. He made his way around the gazebo.
“Yes, you three will surely die without a tiny bit of my help.”
44
Muzuhlan stopped his swimming right in front of the entrance to the gazebo. I figured he was about to rejoin us. But he exploded into a thousand lines of numbers, numbers that moved in random directions.
“Grimy,” spoke Muzuhlan, his voice louder now. It sounded as though he was everywhere at once. “Take this bottle. Once you drink from it, you will be given the opportunity to choose a starter class. And then, once you hit Level 20, you will be able to choose your sub-class.”
A purple bottle appeared in the middle of the gazebo and floated near Grimy. He grabbed at it greedily, his sharp teeth visible through his wide grin.
“Tharis, if you decide to continue your journeys with these two, then you will surely be defeated by other players of the Light Faction. And so, I give your friends this Cloak of Many Colors.” Two folded robes appeared in the air and floated towards Bataar and Grimy. “These will change your races to more favorable ones in the eyes of the Light Faction.”
Bataar unraveled his cloak and held it out. It was red, and then it was purple, and then it was green. It was hard for me to look away from it as the changing of the colors was soothing and hypnotic.
Grimy threw his on and changed from an ugly goblin to an ugly dwarf. In a normal situation, this would have been hilarious to me. But I just wasn’t feeling it at the moment.
“Ushmoe and Guud. Can you bring them back?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
The batch of numbers went still and silent for a moment. Then, they took the shape of a face, a face with eyebrows that looked somber. “I’m sorry, my friend. Their code is long gone and lost forever. I’m afraid death is real in this game that you live in. If I did have that power then perhaps I would have gone against the promise to myself and brought them back to you. I’m sorry for your loss, young Lionheart.”
I nodded my head, my vision no longer looking at the face of numbers but looking through it. I could feel tears rising up but held them back with all my might. I didn’t know what to think of all of this. It still felt unreal to me.
“So now what?” I asked.
There wasn’t an answer but an explosion of light as the world came crashing back down on us. It was midday by the looks of the sun. Birds were chirping in the far distance and I could smell the flowers that grew from the vines that were attached to the gazebo.
The wind picked up a bit and with it came the last words of Muzuhlan. “You live.”
Bataar’s robe had turned him into a late-aged man with grey hair, a grey beard, and brown eyes. What the cloak couldn’t change was the Archean’s huge size. Bataar made for one hell of a big human.
The three of us stood at the edge of the gazebo, peering out over the hill and resting our eyes on the beautiful city of Titania. Three massive towers extended high into the air almost hitting the clouds. I couldn’t even see any birds flying up that high.
Below it was the castle the three towers were connected to, all made of white, polished stone. In front of this castle was a two-story wall that continued left and right almost as far as the eye could see. Other than the castle, a few buildings were visible but no streets or players could be seen from where we stood.
“Will you look at that!” exclaimed Bataar, pointing at a flying dot in the sky.
And it wasn’t just one zooming dot, but hundreds!
“Are those-” I said.
“Players!” Bataar said. “And they’re flying! I’ve only heard of flying mounts but never saw one at my starter village.”
“Me neither,” I said, not really paying attention to what he was saying. All I was thinking about was the time I had ridden on the back of the Raptor-Raven and how awesome it had been. The feeling of absolute freedom as the wind flew through my hair. I had to get back up there.
The sight of the high-level players on their flying mounts distracted me from the depressing meeting we had just had with Muzuhlan. However, a message from the old wizard brought me right back to reality.
Tharis, I know how upsetting this news must have been to you. But I must let you know that you are special and not some mistake. You and all other players who become Enlightened have a chance at life, a chance to gain a purpose! Your life through my work will become more and more real. I cannot explain everythin
g to you at this moment for I fear the developers may be listening in, but I have plans. Big plans.
One last thing you must know. I created the class of Lionheart. There are others like it, such as the Bearheart that you defeated, but those I did not create. You are the sole Beastheart class that was developed for honorable reasons. You will find that the other Legendary Beastheart classes will want to challenge you. And so I say to you, grow powerful and become someone these players look up to! I had no idea an Enlightened player would grow to become a Lionheart so quickly! I figured it would take years after its creation before a player was awarded such a class! However, I can already tell that you will be the perfect Enlightened player to take the reins of this Legendary class.
Be this world’s protector and leader, Tharis, the Lionheart. It is your destiny.
There was no way to reply and so I closed the prompt.
“You ok?” asked Bataar, turning back to look at me.
I walked up to him and Grimy, putting my hands on their backs.
“What now?” asked Grimy, breathing through his mouth.
The words of Muzuhlan did help to cheer me up and I was feeling a lot better now. “I say we go to Titania and do exactly what the wizard said to do!”
“What was that again?” asked Grimy.
“We live and prosper,” said Bataar, annoyance in his voice. “Don’t you listen?”
“I don’t think he said anything about prospering you fugly giant.”
I released my hands from them and backed up. I smiled as I watched Bataar shove Grimy and Grimy try to shove him back. There was a warmness in my chest and I knew I felt strong affection for these two. They were my friends, other Enlightened characters who I thought genuinely enjoyed being by my side. Maybe that was a reason in itself to live. Maybe one didn’t have to be born sexually to be sentient. Muzuhlan was the prime example of this.
So, as Bataar and Grimy had words, I sat back in the grass and listened to the chirping of the birds and imagined myself one day flying higher than them between the large flapping wings of my dream dragon.
Thank you so much for picking up a copy of the Lionheart: No Respawn Book 1. I hope you enjoyed your stay in Drathos! I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate you. Please consider leaving a review here as reviews help me out TREMENDOUSLY. Please email me at: [email protected] so I can have the honor of thanking you personally.
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Remember, you’re awesome.
1 - Loathed
Esh, eight years old and small for his age, leaped from the orphanage entrance and out onto the streets. Ash fell from the sky and covered his already dirty hair. He was a happy kid, though he had no one to share this happiness with. No one liked a purple-haired freak like him. No one liked a boy who broke a sweat under the Red sun. He wasn’t like them. Not entirely.
Trying his best to make friends, he followed the other children down the street, struggling to keep up. His breathing intensified as the Red sun whipped the back of his neck and dried the air around him.
“Esh!” cried the orphanage head mother. He turned around. “You forgot your mask!”
She was right; he had completely forgotten it in his excitement. The ash in the sky had already begun filling his lungs, and he had started to cough. He ran back and grabbed his breathing mask, which was a simple-crafted sort of thing made of linen.
It clasped around his head with a pinching elastic string making it look like he was wearing a muzzle. It was large, bulky, and made the air so much hotter to breathe.
“Thanks,” he told her shyly.
She bent over and peppered his forehead with her nasty kisses, but he was happy to have them. Any affection would do. Everyone hated someone as different as he was. Out of all the people he’d known in his lonely eight years at the orphanage, she was the only one who didn’t treat him like a monster. Her fat made her fun to hug, and her giant boobs were great to stuff a crying face into. He called her his fake mother.
He turned and raced to catch up with the other kids, the mask’s strings already rubbing the back of his neck raw.
“Eww, it’s following us,” he heard one of them cry. “Ugh, he’s gonna freeze us,” said another.
It was true that he was always much colder to the touch than the other kids, and that he could not take the heat. As far as he knew, he was the only one of his kind who had to wear this annoying breathing mask which made it even more difficult for him to make friends.
“Guys, wait up!” he gasped, holding his sides as they began to cramp.
It didn’t take long before he was on his knees, pulling back the elastic band of the mask with one hand to give the back of his neck a break. He turned his face up to the sky and squinted at the fiery red ball that stared right back at him.
Ashy sweat filled his eyes as he turned his gaze to the other three orbs in the sky which, in his opinion, were much more pleasant-looking. It wasn’t that they were more beautiful, but that it was actually possible to look at them without your eyes melting.
In the North, Esh could see misty blue dust floating around the sapphire sun. If he looked closely, he could make out the waves that moved and crashed against each other.
In the West was his favorite sun of all, the Green sun, which looked like a giant furry green booger. Some of the kids said certain animals actually lived in the forests upon its soil—but they may have just been screwing with him. He had no way to discover whether it was true, because the library close to the orphanage had no photos of any other territory but his own. His fake mother had told him that once, a long time ago, the library had carried such photos, but they had been purposely put to the flame.
The last sun, which resided in the Northwest, was the dead sun. It was rotting and falling apart, casting a dark shade over its territory, and one could almost smell its decay. The sun looked as if it might, at any moment, just tear apart and fall onto the territory it had once nourished. Even if it had been possible for Esh to visit this territory, he wouldn’t have wanted to. But the sun was still very beautiful in its own creepy way.
When he was rested, he got back up to his feet, and was disappointed to find that his fellow orphans—his companions, as he thought of them—had all run away. He decided to just walk until he saw or heard them.
As he walked, he made sure not to step on any of the bugs that crawled into his path—not for fear of squashing them, but of hurting his own foot on the sharp metallic outer shells which protected their soft gooey parts from the dreadful sun.
“Dreadful sun”? What he meant was the all-powerful sun of flames, the life-giver, the source of the strength and knowledge of the people of Reah. That’s what his schoolteacher would have made him say.
He waved to a butcher who was holding down a noncompliant metal animal, which he was about to open up with his large sharpened bone-blade. At Esh’s friendly wave, the butcher dropped his blade, and it crashed to the floor as he lifted his hands to make a horribly rude gesture. Seizing this opportunity, the animal leaped from the table, speeding past Esh.
Lessons in the Reahlic language were taught at his school, once in the morning and once before school let out. Esh took these opportunities to learn as much as he could in order to become more like his race, more like the people of Reah.
However, despite his position at the top of the class, Esh still struggled to gain acceptance from his peers and having a good command of Reahlic wasn’t helping.
He looked down at the ashy road he was walking on and wondered what it looked like under all the black soot. It was impossible to find out, for he knew that even if he dug a deep enough hole, it would soon be covered up by one of the molten rains that the massive volcano, Gurgamosh, vomited out every so often.
People whose profession it was to predict Gurgamosh’s combustions and warn about upcoming molten rains would
blare the announcement of impending doom. Everyone would then scatter to the shelter of their metal-covered huts. The people of Reah could tolerate the heat, but the rain was different. If it touched your skin, you would melt. And once it got on you, it was impossible to shake off. You just had to let it take its course down your body, devouring flesh and bone alike. It was no wonder the great aristocrats of Reah had chosen this as the method of their death penalty.
Finally he heard it, the laughter of his fellow orphans just around the corner. He took off in the direction of the sound.
As he rounded the corner, he stopped in place. The kids were having fun all right, but not the kind of fun that he himself enjoyed, not at all. The mean orphans had found the trash worker, the lowest and most degrading job that can be given to a person of Reah. Esh had seen this old man before. The only reason he had noticed the man was because the trash worker was the only person who had never once shot him an evil glance, spit at him, or called him names.
The elderly man, not paying any attention to the derogatory remarks thrown his way by the children, picked up the trash on the side of the road. From broken water canisters to rolled up fume sticks, the worker picked them up and placed them in a bag over his shoulder. What was astonishing was the way he picked up the trash. To Esh’s amazement, the Elder slipped his foot under a slimy-looking piece of trash and swooped it straight into the air while turning his back just at the right angle to catch it in the sack on his back. He did all this without breaking a sweat and with his eyes closed!
The Lionheart: a LitRPG Novel (No Respawn Book 1) Page 21
