The Once King

by Rachel Aaron

  “Wait,” James said. “What’s so special about ten million players?”

  Leylia shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t even know if it was the number or if that day just happened to be the one when I crossed the line, but something happened.” She tapped her slippered foot on the ground. “The game world of FFO was based on my connection to this real place. I know now that I was drawn to this world in particular because it lies at the center of the Unbounded Sky. Well, as much as anything can be the center of infinity. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that this place is a very bright light, magically speaking. And since I was a Portal Keeper who had no idea what she was doing, I was drawn to it like a moth to a bug zapper, subconsciously reaching out to it first through my visions then through the game. The harder I reached, the closer I got, until one day boom! I smashed our two worlds together, and everyone who actually lived here got stuck in my version of their home.”

  “Incredible,” James said when she finished. “It’s like, by making FFO, you were casting a giant spell that connected our worlds.”

  Now that he’d said it, he could see just how it had happened. There were streams of magic in all people, lines of power that connected them to each other and the rest of the world. If Leylia had been born a Portal Keeper back on Earth, where there was no magic, it made sense that her lines would connect back to this place where power was rich and magic was plentiful. As she’d built FFO off her visions, she’d strengthened that connection, and every new person she brought in would add their power to the spell. Even if the humans of Earth had only a tiny bit of mana due to their planet’s low magical nature, enough grains of sand added up. Given how many millions of players FFO had had at its height, James had no problem believing all those tiny sparks could make something big, galvanizing Leylia’s unconscious spell into an iron-clad trap strong enough to imprison the real residents of this world in her fake version. Including, apparently, Leylia herself.

  “So how did you end up here?” James asked. “I mean, you clearly didn’t get pulled in with the rest of us. Not only were you a Portal Keeper while this was still a game, you died in our world two years ago. It was all over the gaming news.”

  “Really? I’m dead?” Leylia took a moment to process that, and then she shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not too surprised. Bodies can’t live long without their souls, and two years on Earth adds up to about twenty years in FFO time, which is about how long I’ve been here.”

  “Wait, that doesn’t make sense,” Tina said. “You said you started the Nightmare shortly after FFO launched, but that was eight years ago. If you only got stuck here two years ago, that means you got pulled in after the Nightmare but well before we arrived. How did that happen?”

  James also wanted to know. This was the part of the story Leylia had refused to tell him without protection. She had it now, though, and her face broke into a grin.

  “It was the Once King.”

  James couldn’t have heard that right. “The Once King? As in the—”

  “As in the Once King,” Leylia said, nodding.

  “How?” Tina demanded.

  “It was pretty wild stuff,” Leylia said. “I’d been playing FFO nearly twenty-four hours a day for a few years at that point. I was logged in as my GM character when it happened.” She gestured down at her current body, which was definitely not a standard player-human model. “Super-cute, right? I had the art department make her for me custom, and she’s held up amazingly. Can you believe I’m over forty now? Anyway, I was working with the devs on that big city in the Verdancy we were building out to be the main hub for the Deadlands expansion pack. You know, making sure they had everything right, since FFO was still technically my therapy game. I was describing how the buildings should look to the art team when I heard this grim-broody voice go, ‘The tree may not forgive it, but the ax offers its apologies. The trunk must be cut before the roots grow deeper.’”

  Tina arched a copper eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

  “I’m still not entirely sure,” Leylia confessed. “But after it finished, I got hit with the wham-spin-wham and some serious sensory overload. When it was over, I woke up in this body in the middle of the actual Verdancy city I’d just been copying from my dreams to the game. But while I don’t understand what he meant, there was no mistaking the voice. It was the Once King for sure.”

  “That’s a pretty huge leap based off a voice you only heard once,” Tina said, crossing her arms over her stonekin’s heavily armored chest.

  “It’s not the sort of thing you forget,” Leylia said. “You were in Bastion when he made his appearance there. You heard him speak. Could you ever mistake that voice for anything else?”

  The moment she said it, James knew exactly what she meant. The Once King’s voice wasn’t just a sound. There was something in it that reached into your soul. Maybe something deep in his jubatus body still remembered that the last Celestial Elf was the world’s first and primal king, or maybe you just didn’t forget something that powerful. If the king’s voice had had that same effect when he spoke through the Eclipsed Steel staff, James would never have mistaken it for a mere talking weapon. He absolutely believed Leylia when she said she knew the Once King’s voice, and from the looks on their faces, so did Cinco and Assets. Tina, however, was still scowling.

  “I don’t get it,” she said. “I didn’t hear anything special. I mean, yeah, the Once King’s got some serious projection, but so does Gregory. I thought it was just a raid boss thing.”

  “You wouldn’t feel it,” Leylia assured her. “Because you’re not technically alive. Stonekin aren’t born like normal people. The Bedrock kings forged you from magic deep in the ground. That’s why stonekin can’t be casters. It was never a balance issue, it’s because you’re not descended from Celestial Elves like the other races, which means you don’t have the essence of the Unbounded Sky inside you. No sky, no mana, but also nothing that remembers the Once King’s divine right to rule. Plus, stonekin are weapons who were made specifically to fight the Once King, so it makes total sense that you wouldn’t be vulnerable to his commanding presence.”

  Tina didn’t seem to know what to do with that information. James left her to ponder it and moved on. “His voice is solid proof enough for me,” he said. “But what I want to know is why the Once King brought you here. What was he trying to accomplish?”

  “How did he do it at all?” Assets asked sharply. “The Once King was introduced in the Deadlands expansion, which only launched a year ago. He wasn’t even in the game yet when you claim to have been brought over two years ago, so how could he have done it?”

  “Just because he wasn’t in the game doesn’t mean he wasn’t here,” Leylia said. “The Nightmare didn’t take over the whole world at once. When I arrived, only a few places were frozen.”

  “Holy shit,” Cinco said.

  “What places?” James asked at the same time. As soon as the question was out, though, he realized he already knew the answer. “It was the places that were already in the game, wasn’t it?”

  “Bingo,” Leylia said. “When I came in, the Nightmare had locked up the entire continent Bastion was on and every zone that was in the currently released seven expansions. It was totally spreading with the game, and man oh man, did the people who lived in the Verdancy know it. From their point of view, the rest of the world had been trapped in this repeating, dream-time-scape hell for decades. Garrond’s Order fortress had been holding the line against the Once King’s undead alone for almost thirty years by the time I got there. Even the lizard tribes of the Never Swamp had put aside their ancient grudge against humans to help keep the Order supplied so the fort wouldn’t fall and flood their nests with undead. Shit was dire.”

  “Wow,” Tina said. “I knew Garrond was hardcore, but that’s ridiculous.”

  “If I’d known the Nightmare was taking over the world one expansion at a time, I would have stopped development,” Leylia went on. “Too bad I didn’t find
out the truth until after I’d been brought over. I couldn’t communicate with anyone back in our world, so I wasn’t able to stop my company from rolling out the Deadlands expansion. The moment it went live, the Nightmare expanded again, and this time I was caught as well. One moment I was in the Order’s fortress with Garrond, trying to figure out how to fix things; the next I was suddenly transported to Bastion and trapped there as a Portal Keeper NPC. Apparently someone on the dev team made me a memorial character there after I died, which was sweet I suppose, but damn, it was a trippy ten years.” She shook her head. “They don’t name it ‘the Nightmare’ for no reason. I’m so glad it’s over.”

  “But we still don’t know why the Once King brought you over,” Tina pressed. “If he’s really the reason we’re here, that makes no sense at all. We’re the only ones in this world who can kill him. Bringing us over seems like a really shitty strategy.”

  “Well, he’s winning right now,” Cinco reminded her. “And he never was beaten in the game.”

  “We’re not done yet,” Tina snapped back.

  Leylia shrugged at them. “Heck if I know what goes on in the Once King’s head. My best theory was that he thought bringing me here would stop the Nightmare from spreading. My magical reaching was the reason all of this happened, so it made sense that dragging me over would stop the damage. Unfortunately for everyone, it didn’t work. Now that I know more about magic, my best guess is that all of the players’ individual investments in the game world kept the connection alive despite my absence, which is why he brought all of you over as well. The spell had taken on a life of its own, so he had to do something equally huge to break it. That’s my theory, anyway. But there’s no way to know for sure.”

  Everyone fell silent as they thought about that. James especially was wracking his brain, leaning on his black staff as he struggled to come up with a magical theory that could explain everything they’d observed enough to reverse it. But while he didn’t have any brilliant ideas, the cold bite of the cursed metal against his skin told him who might.

  “I can ask him.”

  Every eye in the tent locked on James as he held up the Eclipsed Steel Staff. “The Once King can talk to me through this.”

  This revelation caused several gasps of alarm.

  “Shit, for real?” Cinco asked.

  “Can he hear us as well?” Assets demanded, stepping back. “Has the enemy been listening in this entire time?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if he could,” James said. “It’s pretty fuzzy, usually. I actually thought this was more of the typical cursed-talking-weapon type of setup until yesterday, when I heard him speak for real. I’m certain he’s in here, though, if only as an echo. I’d talked to him plenty of times before I realized who I was actually speaking with.”

  “Well shit,” Tina said. “Dial him up, then! If he really did bring us here, then he should be hella ready to send us back after what we did to his army.”

  “Are you sure talking to him is a good idea?” Cinco asked, the huge Berserker sounding uncharacteristically nervous. “I mean, isn’t he like the enemy of all life and shit?”

  “Can’t hurt to ask,” Tina said, grinning at her brother. “Get him on the line, James!”

  “I’ll try,” James said, frowning at his staff. “I’ve never actually initiated contact, just replied when he spoke. Like you said, though, can’t hurt to ask.” He paused. “Um, if I start casting weird death magic, please shut me down.”

  “Will do,” Tina promised, cracking her knuckles with a metallic pang. “Let’s talk to a king.”

  James nodded and forced his eyes away from the cadre of giant people who might be tackling him in the next few minutes to focus on the staff in his hands. As always, the Eclipsed Steel felt cold and unpleasant against his skin. He ignored the wrongness and peered into the latticework of magics that ran through the too-black metal for a clue.

  It was hard. The twisted flows of energy formed an unfathomably dense, multilayered matrix that spiraled horizontally, vertically, and maybe even in a third direction his brain couldn’t grasp. Whatever was going on inside the staff, it was as far beyond his comprehension as quantum computing would have been. So since understanding how it worked clearly wasn’t going to fly, James tried the stupid approach instead.

  Hello, he thought at the staff, giving it a squeeze. Mr. Once King?

  Nothing happened.

  Hello? he thought again.

  Still nothing.

  “It’s not working,” James said. “Does anyone know the proper form of address for a king of the undead? I mean, ‘Once King’ is the name we gave him, but he has to have something else he calls himself.”

  “Hmm,” Assets said, frowning. “Why don’t you try…” He finished with a word in Old Elven that James had never heard in his life but whose very pronunciation carried a sense of awe and power straight to his bones.

  “Wow,” said James, Cinco, and Leylia at the same time. They all looked at each other and then at Assets.

  “How’d you know that?” James asked, jealous that he hadn’t gotten Old Elven as one of his languages from the transition.

  For once, the Trade Co. guild leader didn’t look smug about knowing something others didn’t. “It’s the only word of the Unbounded Language I know,” he said, clearly shaken. “I don’t know how I know it, but I know it means King. Unsurprisingly.”

  That was better than anything James could come up with. Staring hard at the Eclipsed Steel Staff again, he thought and said the word Assets had told him at the same time, doing his best to keep his voice reverent.

  “King.”

  For a long heartbeat, there was nothing but the cold tickle of cursed steel in his hands. Then James felt a stirring, like someone rousing from deep slumber.

  Who dares speak my name without permission?

  The sonorous voice came from the staff to sound directly in James’s head, and he bounced excitedly. “I’ve got him!”

  Tina nodded, looking ready to tackle him while everyone else took a nervous step back.

  “Um, it is I, James the Player,” James replied. “We conversed yesterday. Thank you once again for the honor of your reply.”

  He spoke seriously and slowly, trying for a respectful, courtly vibe, since James was pretty sure the Once King was a prideful ruler and, unlike Gregory, wouldn’t forgive any faults of decorum now that they both knew who the other was. Sure enough, the answer that came from the staff sounded pleased.

  You have learned my name and offer proper respect at last. Have you decided to join my cause and save your people from their suffering?

  “I must humbly decline,” James said nervously. “I wish only to ask why you brought us players to your world.”

  That is not the real question which I’m sure burns in your heart. The lovely voice of the ancient elf sounded deeply disappointed. But I am proud of my actions, so I will answer you nonetheless. I brought you here to end the Nightmare that had consumed us all. I’d tried to stop the spread years ago in a more precise manner, but though I successfully felled the trunk, the roots clung on. Even my great plans had to be set aside for a time while I did the cutting necessary to free the world. Tragically, some souls were caught on this side of the Unbounded Sky as a result. My apologies. You players are now trapped here the same as all the rest. I am truly sorry to have doomed you, but know that you have helped me save something much greater than yourselves. This world should honor your sacrifice more than it does.

  It wasn’t so different from Leylia had guessed, but hearing the truth from the Once King himself gave their whole situation new gravitas. Hauling Leylia over hadn’t stopped the Nightmare because the players were still participating in the game and perpetuating the collision of worlds. So the next time he reached, the Once King had just grabbed everyone, and this time it had worked. Without millions of players keeping it going, the connection between the fake and the real had snapped, and the Nightmare had finally broken. The rest of it—a
ll the players’ lives lost and ruined by the transition to FFO—were just the casualties of war. They were sacrifices the Once King had chosen to save his world from the disaster Leylia had forced onto it. James wasn’t sure if he begrudged that or not, but there was no time to figure his feelings out. One did not keep ancient god-kings waiting.

  “Thank you for telling me the truth,” James said, struggling to keep his voice steady. “But if I may dare another question…”

  What you dare is your business.

  James nodded, taking a deep breath. Here went nothing. “I understand now that you brought us here to save your world. A great and noble act to be sure, but one that is no longer necessary. Now that the spell is broken and the Nightmare is over, is it within your great power to send us back home?”

  There was a long pause before the answer came back.

  I am sorry, James the Player, the Once King said, his flawless voice sad and sincere. I do not have so much mana that I can expend it on such frivolities. Your world created the Nightmare, and you players have paid the price to fix it. As unfortunate as that is for you, you cannot deny it is fair. But I am not without mercy. If you surrender to me, I will allow you to pass painlessly into oblivion without having to serve in my armies. Such is the breadth of my magnanimity.

  He clearly thought he was being very generous with that offer, but James was too focused on the first part of what he’d said to pay much attention to the latter.

  “So you could send us back if you had the mana?” he demanded, courtly speech forgotten. “How?”

  I have not the breath to waste on outcomes that will never arrive, came the scornful reply. This audience is over. If you desire to speak again, you may present yourself properly to me in person. I do not make a habit of paying calls to rude peasants.

  “Wait!” James cried, but the staff was already falling still in his hands as the Once King’s presence faded. “Damn!”