"Huh, I would have never expected one of you people to play a FPS."
She stopped and turned around you look at me, her hands on her hips. "What do you mean 'you people '?"
"Oh you know." I theatrically put a hand to the side of my mouth and said in a stage whisper, "people who play support characters."
She rolled her eyes at me, again, and started walking.
"I mean, seriously," I said in a normal voice. "I've known a lot of FPS players and none of them are healer/buffer types."
She gave a sad sort of wistful smile. "I played a Mercy Class in ROC and my team won several tournaments. It was a family thing, mom was the tank and my d - "
She stopped speaking, choking on the last word. I knew what she felt. That sudden realization, that sharp painful instant of remembering your reality.
The rising momentum of cheerfulness, crashing, burning and snuffing out any brightness before it blossomed into happy nostalgia.
Yes, I knew that feeling.
She had just broken one of the unspoken rules of the Grey Hell. No talking about your parents or beloved guardians because some of us were Throwaways, many Runaways, some Lockaways but even less where Stolen.
Stolen Subadults were the rare, well adjusted individuals, who were the "good" ones. The ones with good parents or legal guardians. The ones who had real jobs and happy lives.
Lives taken, stolen away.
Some of the Stolen were resentful of the other Subadults, thinking that they took them down with them. Others resented the Stolen right back for their "perfect" lives.
The Broken and the Stolen were the main reasons we didn’t talk about the Outside, but they weren’t the only reasons. Many of us just didn't want to remember what we lost.
All this meant that any personal talk about the Outside was like having a giant multi headed hydra dance on an emotional minefield.
The unspoken rules included: Not using our real names, not talking about our pasts and keeping personal information secret.
Besides all that, you never knew if an Overseer was listening and whether or not they would use that information against you.
We learned pretty early on what the Arena was really for. We were entertainment, brought to the masses by Gray Hall Enterprises.
Betting on eSports wasn't illegal in most countries and monthly tournaments that involved four very different game worlds, with very different magic/combat systems was a huge draw.
This meant that Overseer interference to hedge a few bets was not uncommon.
But all that was over now. It was a new world and I decided right then and there I wasn't going to give the Overseers anymore power over us. Especially when they couldn't touch us here.
"So I guess your parents taught you everything you know, huh?" I said cheerfully.
Aeria and Taren both looked at me with surprise and I grinned. "What? Schools out forever. No more bullies, no more crooks, no more Overseers dirty looks! If you want to talk, talk. We're here for the foreseeable future. Put your behind in your past I always say! My past can kiss my - "
"And what if she doesn't doesn't want to talk?" Taren glowered at me.
"If she doesn’t, she doesn't. Duh."
"It's okay Taren. I get what he's saying." Aeria sounded thoughtful.
"Well, he can talk about his own parents," he grumbled.
"Yes." I agreed cheerfully. "I can. I mean they did teach me everything I know."
The Dwarf snorted and said, "I'm guessing they didn't teach you much."
I smiled sadly and, deciding to ignore the implied insult, I said, "Not as much as they should have, true. They died when I was eleven."
Taren had his mouth open to say something else but then closed it with a click.
I laughed a little. Sometimes I laugh when I'm sad.
"Yeah, car accident, if you can believe it. Something that was supposed to be a thing of the past ever since self driving cars became common."
They were quiet for a while before Aeria asked, "How did it happen?"
I laughed again, the sound harder and rougher this time. Anger and bitterness stretched my smile into something that made Aeria flinch and Taren look away.
"Drunk driver. Yeah. We have self driving cars and some… careless…" I restrained myself from insulting the driver. No insult was big enough for what he had done or who he had been.
"He was sixteen, he was drunk, and not supposed to be out. He switched to manual drive so he could get home before his parents caught him.
Instead, he destroyed four lives that night. Mommy, Daddy, mine and his own."
I stopped smiling and let silence reign for a few long moments before speaking. "But life happens and the world keeps turning. And whether we're in the grave, or out of it, we turn with it. We exchange Christmas cards every year."
Taren frowned, obviously confused. "Who?"
"Marcus and me."
Aeria spoke up hesitantly. “Um, who is Marcus?"
"Oh, right. Marcus is the name of the driver."
They stared at me. I smiled serenely back.
"Okay, I'm confused…" the confused Dwarf said.
"And I," put in Aeria, "am a little freaked out that you exchange Christmas cards with the guy who, um…"
"Killed my parents?"
"Yes!"
"Oh, that's because I'm incredibly evil!" I laughed evilly at the expressions on their faces.
It let the moment stretch just a little longer before explaining. "The guy's life, as he knew it, was over. He went to prison for it. He used the prison education system to graduate high school and to get a couple college degrees.
"He threw himself into charity work as soon as he got out. Made a living as an anti-drug and anti-alcohol motivational speaker. All the money he ever made, he used the bare minimum of and gave the rest to charity.
"He's helped thousands of people around the world and is determined to continue helping as many people as he can."
I paused to take a breath, glanced at the other two and shrugged. "I sent him a Christmas card every year after my parents died. I wanted him to remember. To never forget. To feel guilt and pain and loss. To remind him that he was spending his Christmas in prison, while I was spending it without my family. But then he started sending some back, with letters. Actual paper and ink letters.”
I frowned at the ground. "He's a good person who made me an orphan. We didn't become friends. But we became something. Living reminders I guess. Reminders of just how bad. Just how good the world can get. And just how good or bad people can become."
After sharing the suckiness that was my childhood Taren and Aeria went quiet.
Eventually though, the Elf started to talk about her own past. Her family, her friends. Even Taren opened up a bit. Still grumpy but no longer hostile.
We walked and talked while I kept my eyes and nose open for attacks. I also kept trying to modify my spell, taking advantage of the free healing.
I was slowly but surely getting a feel for the spell I kept trying to develop and by the eighth time I damaged my hand, I had just about the shape I needed.
“I can’t keep healing you just so you can hurt yourself again. I mean I can, but I'm getting tired of it," Aeria said irritably. "The next time I might just refuse to heal you. Besides, what are you trying to do anyway?”
“Maybe I just like holding hands with a kind, generous, forgiving and beautiful woman.” I gave her my most innocent expression.
“Riiight…”
“What? I'm being sincere here!” I gave her my most sincere expression.
When she finished she dropped my hand and said, “You know, it might be more convincing if you weren't smirking when you said that.”
“Hey, this is my sincere smirk.”
“If you're about done flirting with my woman," Taren grumped, "we should get going.”
As we started walking again, I said, “I. Do not flirt. When I tell a woman how amazing she is, it is with the utmost sincerity and totally not a line.”
/>
"Hmm, you look much more sincere when you say that without a smirk,” Aeria said.
“Thanks! I've spent hours practicing that look in the mirror. Also, incoming at three and four o’clock.”
"Let me help at least," Aeria said and hefted her stick, "I barely got any experience so far."
There were only three of them, so we kept them off her as she killed them one by one.
While watching her beat the last Whatsit to death I cheered her on. “Yeah! You show that Whatsit what's what while wacking whatever the whatever stuff out of it!”
Taren side eyed me and asked, “What is wrong with you?
“Nothing,” I replied. “I’m supposed to be like this.”
“And are you always like this?”
“Oh no,” I explained. “I can be much, much, muuuch worse. This is me being restrained.”
Aeria’s expression of disbelief was clear as she killed and looted the last Whatsit. "If that's true then that's just… scary."
"Oh, you have no idea,” I replied.
Taren shook his head. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Ha! Once, I was so annoying I gave a guy a concussion.”
“What? How would that even work?”
“Well, he kept banging his head against the wall while screaming, ‘Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!' over and over and over and over and - “
“Yes!” he interrupted. "I believe you now. Please shut up.”
“Guys,” Aeria tried to interrupt.
“Oh, come on, Taren. Old buddy, old pal - “
“I'm not your old buddy.”
“Oh, come on, Taren. New buddy, new pal - “
He pulled out his axe. “Man, I've had it up to - “
“Guys!”
We both stopped, then turned to look at her. Then we turned to look at what she was staring at. Then we stared right along with her.
Then I said, “Dude. That's totally a Centaur.”
The Centaur raised and eyebrow, and said, “Dude. That is totally correct. Now drop your weapons before I stomp the lot of you.”
We did not drop our weapons. We just stared. Because it's not every day you see a Centaur.
An alien Centaur. At least that's what I thought he was.
He wasn't actually a half man half horse. The four legged part of his body was lower to the ground and not as long. He looked more balanced in his proportions than any other Centaur I had seen before. And Centaurs aren't uncommon in fantasy games.
He also had paws instead of hooves with a body that was more canine than anything else. But, not exactly.
The humanoid portion was covered in the same thick, almost shaggy grey fur as the rest of him, thinning around the belly, chest, neck and face enough to see the pale skin underneath.
His facial features were striking and inhuman while simultaneously, seemingly to have been mixed together from every race of humanity.
Although, the long pointed ears made me think of Elves instead of humans.
His eyes were light blue and his curly hair was slightly darker than his fur.
He carried a long weapon that looked like it was part spear, part machete and part axe. A Halberg? Polearm?
Where the humanoid part of him rose up he wore a thick belt with various pouches. Across his chest he wore a black and red sash.
He didn't smell like a dog, a human or a mix of those together. It was an altogether different scent and since he was downwind I couldn't get anything more detailed than that.
Maybe he smelled like a wolf? He looked more lupine than canine.
The Centaur scowled at us as we continued to stand there and stare.
He spoke in a growly grumble. “Why does that work on some of you people and not others?”
I raised my hand like I was in school. He blinked and looked at me curiously before asking, “Yes?”
I put my hand down and asked, “Are all Centaurs nudists?”
I heard rather than saw Aeria put her face in her hands. "Wh - why?! Love and Light, why would you ask that?”
“Uh, because he's nude and I was curious. Why else would I ask that?”
“Don't mind him.” Taren jerked a thumb at me. "He's… well… he's special.”
I smiled and puffed out my chest a little. "I am special, aren't I? Although if I'm being honest, mostly in the brain.”
“I… I can't even.” Aeria pulled hands away from her face and smiled determinedly at the perplexed Centaur. "Hello, I am Aeria. The Dwarf is Taren, who is going to put his axe away, thank you sweetie. And the... other one is Ruin.”
“I'm the horny one." I tapped a claw against one of my horns.
“Yes.” The Centaur eyed me wairlily. "Well. I am David Holsten.” He paused as if expecting a response to that then said, “I am one of guards patrolling the roads and I will be escorting you to the… welcoming announcement.”
We glanced at each other before Aeria asked, “Why did you pause before saying, ‘Welcoming announcement’? And why an escort?”
“We have had some… many… yes, many, many issues… with you people and we would like to get everyone on the same page.”
I eyed the half wolfman Centaur… thing. "What do you mean, you people.”
Taren eyed me. "What do you mean, you people.”
“The Fallen,” David said, a little too loudly. "The people who fell from the sky from another world. The Priestess of the four gods has organized a meeting. A ‘Welcoming Announcement’ in order to explain a few things. ”
“Oh, well… okay then." I looked to the others. They just shrugged so I asked, "How far is it?”
David paused, then said. "If it were just me, about half an hour. For you two legged folk? About three hours.”
All three of us groaned.
“Stupid no fast travel mechanic,” I muttered. "Fine. Lay on McFurry, we'll follow.”
“McFurry? Nevermind. However, it would be better if… well...”
I sighed. “You want us to go first so you don't have to turn your back on us, right.”
“Well…”
“No worries. We understand.” I clapped my hands together and rubbed them with enthusiasm as I grinned at the others. "Alright Team Ruin! Lets move out! Oooh, that can be our catch phrase!”
"No. It can't,” Taren said as we started walking.
"Okay. Fine. How about 'We're Team Ruin and we're here to make your day! Like the name! Ruined!' ha haaa! Wait, no. That's terrible. Don't worry. I'll work on it."
"I think he means that we aren't Team Ruin," Aeria said.
“Fine. Let's put it to a vote. All in favor of Team Ruin raise your hand!” I raised my hand, they didn't.
"All opposed.” I lowered my hand, they raised their hands.
“Okay, fine. Be that way. Jeez, it's like you're ashamed to be seen with me or something.” I turned around and walked backwards to talk to David. “So, are female Centaurs nudists too?”
He watched me, his halberd (I think that's what was called) resting on his shoulder as he did so and said, “If you mean, do they go bare chested, the answer is no. They require... support. Just like any biped.”
“That makes sense. Ah well. Another fantasy trope crushed under the weight of reality,” I said sadly to the Centaur.
We talked for a while and I asked about Centaurs, learning that there were multiple body types. Some canine or lupine, as well as feline and equine.
“Please tell me if this or any other question is rude,” David said then asked, “But what are you exactly?”
I explained that I was Savage Kin, also called a Forest Elf, and I told him a little about Midian and the other races.
While we walked I continued practicing. Pushing magic into the spell form, getting a feel for it and then drawing the magic back inside me.
The first time I tried that it was incredibly unpleasant. Like when a limb starts waking up after falling asleep, but distilled into liquid form and pumped through your veins.
I mean, it stil
l feels like that, but I mostly got used to it.
Of course you never really knew if the spell was going to work as intended until you actually cast it. Hence, the hand explosions.
But when I cast the spell for approximately the bigillionth time I got a surprise. Not the unpleasant, hand explodey, begging for healing from an unreasonably annoyed Aegis Elf, kind of surprise.
This was a good surprise. It was a blast of magic from my hand that sent me tumbling backward.
I would have fallen if a surprised Centaur hadn't caught me.
“Ha! I yelled, then at a normal volume I said, "Thank you David."
With giggling glee I moved away from everybody and tried again, this time using both hands. The resulting force shoved me backward hard enough that I fell onto my butt.
“Uh, Ruin…” Aeria started to ask but paused when I scrambled to my feet.
They all stopped and looked at me like I was crazy. It was probably the giggling.
I tend to laugh when I'm excited.
I moved a few paces away from them to give myself plenty of space. When I was clear of any and all potential hazards, well, other than the hazard that was myself, I got down on the ground into a push up position.
“I'm king of the world!” I crowed and cast the spell, this time at full power.
The force of the spell hit the ground, kicking up a wave of dust and shoving me up. And kept shoving me until I slammed into the ground, back first.
I tried to breath, to speak or to laugh, but I couldn't draw in air. However, I could push it out.
When I did, what came out was a low, moaning, “IIII'mm goood…”
I remembered some advice I heard once about what to do when this happened. I sat up, raised my fists above my head and tried to breath through my diaphragm.
When I could breathe again, the first thing that came out of my mouth was more laughter.
I tend to laugh when I'm in pain.
I got back up, dusted myself off and looked over to see the Centaur, Elf and Dwarf all watching me.
“I discovered a new spell!” I said with a smug grin.
It had a sensation of: A sharp breath, a flowing, electric rushing, twisting and lifting, drawing forward. It felt like it shared certain elements with Force Spike, which made sense.
"And it. Is. Awesome."
They all looked at me skeptically but it was David who said, “It doesn't seem to be very useful.”
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