by Oliver Mayes
She’d only mentioned his brother’s name, yet Andrew already looked uncomfortable. This was the right question. While the quest was not yet complete, Lillian had already inadvertently accomplished most of her personal goals. She’d been so focused on the task she set herself, she hadn’t realized the quest was redundant until she and Andrew were on good terms again. She knew it wasn’t the same for Andrew himself. His problem ran a little deeper. She needed to know how deep.
“It’s one thing declaring war against a player blocking me and my guild’s progress. It’s something else entirely, helping you fight your own brother. I don’t know if I want to be involved.”
“It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”
“Everything’s changed. We’re talking again. Rising Tide has kicked the bucket, save for a small trusted group we can run dungeons with. Hammertime betrayed us, then I caught up with him and had my say. This is a turning point. We can walk away from this with our heads held high, leave everything in the past and get on with our lives. It’s exactly the right time for this.”
“I can’t do that. I promised Richard he’d pay for what he did. I have to see it through.”
“Why are you dead set on revenge? He behaved terribly, but so did we. He’s still your brother! He killed you, after you’d already lost the competition, at a time when you’d have ended up dead pretty soon anyway. Is that really worth all this drama?”
Andrew was back to tapping his foot again, more violently than before. He was staring ahead, trying and failing not to look surly. She tried a different tack.
“We could stop investing all our time in Saga Online and play it rather than building our lives around it. Now we’re back to where we were, we could find you something more realistic and less stressful to do with yourself. I’d even help you find your feet. Why not let Richard do whatever he’s doing? It’s only a game. You don’t have to let your hatred define you.”
Lillian hadn’t even got halfway through before Andrew stopped tapping his foot and looked directly at her, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. He waited until she’d finished before refuting her.
“Firstly, we’re not back to where we were. We’re talking. I’m very happy about it, but it’s not the same. Secondly, this isn’t just about revenge. He can’t be allowed to succeed. Not the way he’s done it.”
“It looks a lot like revenge from here.”
“I don’t want to get into this before you take on the challenge. It won’t help—”
“I’ll be the judge of what I want to hear. I’d like to hear this. If killing you and besmirching your glowing public image isn’t the problem, what is?”
Andrew closed his eyes.
“It’s staring you in the face. You have all the information you need already. Do I have to say it? Where do you think Richard got the gold to buy Carlisle from?”
“Enlighten me.”
With his eyes still closed, Andrew took a deep breath and folded his arms. Then he did the opposite of enlightening her.
“Everyone assumes I stole the entire contents of Rising Tide’s vault. I don’t know how I’d manage that, even if I wanted to, but of course I didn’t. Richard waited until I was in Aetherium’s vault to use the Portal Scroll. The same Portal Scroll he used to summon Archimonde, in the footage Damien shared with you.”
Lillian had already seen where this was going. Had Andrew’s eyes been open, he’d have watched her face darkening and have known it. He almost certainly knew it anyway. But he continued to speak, and Lillian’s ‘live and let live’ attitude continued to evaporate.
“Whenever I went through one of those portals to see him, it closed after I passed through. I assumed the target of the scroll passes through and it closes, just like the occultist ability. Except it turns out that’s not how it works. That’s just what he wanted me to think. The portals he’s using work both ways.”
Andrew had been reluctant to say anything before. Now he’d started, he couldn’t stop. His foot was tapping relentlessly up and down, keeping time for his tuneless tale.
“Richard groomed me. He didn’t just kill me instead of helping me, I might’ve been able to accept that. He used me to get access to Rising Tide’s vault, robbed us blind and pinned it on me without having to say a word. He turned my loss into his gain.”
All Rising Tide’s accumulated effort. Not just Lillian and Andrew’s, but that of the entire guild. Thousands of combined hours of toil. The guild that had been under her care. Until she’d stopped helping after Andrew followed through on his brother’s prank, leaving Andrew alone and vulnerable. Lillian was already compiling a new flowchart in her head. Andrew kept on, venting everything he’d kept to himself for as long as he could until Lillian had invited him to share.
“He had to know I was in the vault before he used the scroll. I didn’t share my recording, there was nothing about that night I wanted to share with anyone. I told the last players I was going into the vault, so more likely than not it was one of them. Whoever it was, it’s probably the same player who told him you were coming online behind my back.”
Lillian nodded thoughtfully. She summarized it as best she could, to make sure she had a handle on the whole affair.
“In addition to killing you instead of helping you, Richard tricked you into opening a portal into the vault so he could steal everything we built together over two months?”
“Yup.”
“He then used the gold to buy Carlisle, demolish it and build the wall, thus preventing Damien from pursuing his quest, and anyone affiliated with the Empire from pursuing the Excalibur quest?”
“Correct.”
“The quest I only needed to pursue in the first place because you lost the competition to Damien and Rising Tide fell apart?”
“With a helping hand from you for maximum irony, yes.”
“I was still helping you, up to the last week. Which was around the time Richard started gunning for the prank. He didn’t mention I was helping with your admin duties, I assume? Only that I was playing behind your back?”
“That’s right.”
“So Richard fed you the bad information while withholding the good, in order to coerce you into pulling a disgusting prank on me that was not only the death knell of our relationship, but which has also impacted my mental stability and my real-life work performance for the last month?”
“Lillian, you’re starting—”
Yes. Lillian was starting. She was starting to see the threads Richard had been pulling on very clearly.
“According to you, Richard said I was drawing attention away from you just by playing. That’s why I performed my duties covertly, so covertly even you didn’t notice. But he drew your attention to me in such a way, you thought I was coming online between two and eight in the morning for my benefit?”
She was starting to rant. Andrew put his hands up and stepped away from her.
“Lillian, I’m really sorry, I was under a lot of stress at the time and I wasn’t thinking clearl—”
“Don’t worry, Andrew. I’m not angry with you. Yet. You said Richard was the one who brought the prank to you. Did you tell him about my family history?”
“Does it matter?”
“It matters to me. A lot. Did you tell him about it, yes or no?”
“No. I told him the prank was unacceptable but never why. You asked me not to share that with anyone.”
“So he did his own research, then built that psychological bombshell around it?”
“You don’t think it could be a coincidence?”
“No. I do not. After everything Richard’s done since then, do you think it’s a coincidence?”
Andrew paused. It had been a complicated story, but from Lillian’s perspective she’d complicated it one step further than Andrew had managed alone. A very important step. Andrew stared over her shoulder, his hands slumping to his sides.
“No.”
Lillian turned and walked down the carpet toward the emp
ty throne. Andrew caught her by the shoulder, just before she passed water woman and went beyond his reach.
“Are you sure you’re in the right mindset to do this?”
“I’m in the only mindset to do this. Wait here.”
She pulled out of Andrew’s grip and strode past the Lady of the Lake. Andrew’s voice was cut off the moment she crossed the threshold. The strange silver-haired figure appeared in the throne in front of her when she was halfway to it, along with the heart rate monitor in the top corner of her HUD. It was at 68 beats per minute. Lillian hadn’t been lying when she said she was calm. She was also angry, but she was more than capable of housing both states simultaneously. She was well practiced in that regard.
She drew to a stop in front of her interviewer and folded her arms, waiting somewhat impatiently for the first question. The mystery interviewer had steepled his fingers and was regarding her intently, waiting for her to make the first move. She refused to do so. She’d wait as long as it took.
Lillian was so angry, and so intent on containing it in her focused bubble of calm, she’d forgotten the first question was actually an order.
“Tell me about yourself.”
There was one thing about Lillian that defined her above all others. Not a personality trait. Not a mindset. Not a core value. A mere event, the foundation upon which she’d constructed everything else.
“My father died when I was young. He was walking me to preschool when he was hit by a self-driving car. I don’t know if you know what that is. Do you know what a car is? He was hit by a large mass of thinking, fast-moving metal, with people inside it. The car decided to veer off the road and murder us instead of putting the five people divided between itself and the other car in danger. An easy choice, especially since one of the passengers was pregnant.”
Lillian nodded, her lips pressed together tightly. Her heart rate had barely risen, up to 76 beats per minute. She wasn’t paying it any attention at all. She was so invested in her story, told without caring whether or not it was to her audience’s liking, she didn’t notice the lack of interruption. Her one-man audience was leaning in, compromising his completely rigid posture to bring his head just a little closer.
“It was an automated murder, plain and simple, but the company called it a “tragic accident”. Then they praised their algorithm. Praised it! For a net increase in saved lives. Our family lost our primary source of income, but my mom got a heavy payout not to pursue the matter further. Considering how “logical” the algorithm was, we were lucky to get anything at all. Justice is served.”
She clenched her fists. Her bpm had risen to 83. They were entering the crux of it now.
“My mother waited until I was older, then used the money to send me away. She blamed me for what happened. She never said so outright but I know, because for a long time I blamed myself as well. There wasn’t anyone else to blame. I went into medicine. Got a scholarship, so I wouldn’t have to live off my father’s blood money. I decided to spend my life inflicting meaning on a chaotic, indifferent world. If I can save just a few people from suffering like I did, maybe my life will have some purpose. That’s who I am.”
The figure on the throne turned his head to one side. Calculating. Of all the NPCs in Arcadia, she had to be judged by this one. Most of the NPCs were incredibly realistic, with mannerisms and turns of phrase that made it difficult to distinguish between them and regular players. This one acted almost exactly like a robot. Lillian wasn’t even sure it would pass the Turing Test. She appeared to have passed the first section of her own test, though.
“Why do you want to wield Excalibur?”
Lillian didn’t have to think about this question, either. She just said the first words that popped into her head.
“There’s a man, called Magnitude. I need to kill him. Obtaining Excalibur is the fastest way of doing that.”
This did not go down well. Lillian flinched as her judge, jury and executioner slammed his closed fist onto the armrest of his stone throne. It cracked under the force of the hit, the fracture running deep into the stone. Her host did not seem quite so robotic now. In fact, he suddenly seemed a great deal like her.
“Careful, Lillian. I was starting to like you.”
“That’s the most honest answer I have. I can explain myself if...oh, I see. The heart rate monitor isn’t to see if I’m afraid, is it? Not exactly. You’re also a lie detector.”
Her interviewer suddenly sat bolt upright. It was only obvious how far he’d strayed from his rigid posture when he returned to it.
“That’s impolite. I’m a truth detector. Besides which, discerning truth is only half useful. I also discern quality of truth.”
“How’s my quality of truth?”
“We’ll find out, once you’ve explained why you deserve Excalibur for the sake of revenge.”
“That’s the thing. I don’t think I deserve Excalibur. I first came to Arcadia to help someone else, but I’ve been doing everything out of self-interest for a while now. This quest, for instance. I wanted Excalibur for myself. I wanted to take back control. I forgot why I started playing, why I came to Arcadia in the first place. Which is why, until a short while ago, I was ready to quit this quest. More than that, I was ready to quit this world. Only, I couldn’t convince my partner to come with me. Which made leaving pointless.”
The silver stranger leaned back in. It was a good thing Lillian had built up enough credit with her first answer to survive her party foul.
“Go on?”
She turned and pointed at Andrew, who was standing half the room away, next to the Lady.
“You see that guy over there? He’s the one who finally balanced me out. Most people learned to keep their distance, but he took a chance on me. He took the time to understand me and told me what I needed to hear. Magnitude turned us against each other, then stepped in and profited from it. I thought Aetherius wanted revenge, the same way you think I want it. I was sure that if he kept on this way he’d end up just as hollow as I am. Listening to him describe what was done to him, I realized revenge is the wrong word. It always has been. What he actually wants is what I’ve always wanted for myself. Closure. Meaning. Purpose.”
“What closure, meaning or purpose could come through wielding Excalibur?”
Lillian laid out the conclusion of her verbal essay as honestly and concisely as she could.
“What Magnitude did to us, he’s now extended to the whole Empire. If he succeeds through lies, manipulation and division, it will all be justified. Not only in his eyes, but in the eyes of everyone watching. I won’t abandon Aetherius, and I can’t stand by doing nothing in a world where inflicting suffering – for personal gain or out of so-called “necessity” – is regarded as the norm. I already have a world like that. Someone needs to give Magnitude’s actions matching consequences, to inflict the order on this world that my own world lacks. That’s something I’m prepared to fight for. Anytime. Anywhere.”
Her host drummed his fingers on the armrest of his fractured chair as he scrutinized her. Lillian’s heart rate was slowly dropping back to her resting rate. The heart rate monitor abruptly disappeared as her interviewer stood up. He walked rigidly down the steps to stand in front of her, looking her up and down.
“You’re not perfect. But nor was Arthur. You’ll do.”
He put his hand out, still staring intently into her eyes. When Lillian didn’t respond, he looked to his palm and then back to her. She put her hand out. He took it. They shook. He smiled.
“I look forward to working with you.”
He held her hand tighter, still smiling, then blurred at the edges. His feet left the ground and Lillian was left supporting his weight. He was light as a feather. He was all quicksilver, his body compressing. His hand molded itself into a grip. His body straightened, becoming even stiffer and sharper than it was before. The transformation ended, the details wrought only after he’d returned to his true form.
Lillian was holding E
xcalibur.
A notification flashed belligerently in the corner of her HUD, just over the one declaring she’d reached level 51. The wording and the gilded presentation indicated it was not unique to her: a game-wide announcement.
Lillian has been judged worthy. Excalibur has consented to being guided by her hand. By divine right, she is hereby ordained Queen of Camelot. The Empire is hers to command.
As a person Excalibur had looked strange, as a sword it was excruciatingly wonderful. A hundred times more beautiful than she’d thought possible. She hadn’t even been sure she wanted it. Now it was within her grasp, she thought her heart might break just looking at it. It was the most beautiful and the most famous sword in all the world. The stats it bore were no small part of its beauty.
Excalibur – Legendary Artifact
Level Requirement: N/A
Durability: ???/???
Damage: 510 (10 x current level) + (Strength x 3)
Stats: 255 Strength (5 x current level)
Description: The foundation of King Arthur’s legend. A sword beyond compare. Can only be wielded by a noble soul.
Special Abilities: Divine Authority, Indestructible, Soul-bound
“Wow. Makes my artifact look like a toy.”
Andrew was standing by her side, staring at Excalibur with her. He reached out as if to touch it, then thought better and pulled his hand back, nursing his fingers as if he’d already been cut.
“You did it.”
“No. We did it. Now comes the hard part.”
26
Dance with the Devil
Damien had been trapped with Lucifer for at least half an hour. Not physically trapped, because the portal had remained open. He could only guess how long, since he couldn’t open his menu. It was hard to keep time, with Lucifer interrupting him every few seconds by projecting into his skull.
“Come now, Damien. We both know you’re being unreasonable.”
Knowing the purpose of the messages was to aggravate him did not make them any more bearable. Much the opposite. Damien knew all he had to do to get out of this was submit. Every time he worked at the idea of it, Lucifer would pass another comment and Damien’s inclination to make the smart choice would slip away.
