《Apocalypse Online》
001 Train Ride
They say that before the mammock, trains sped across the land aboveground, affording passengers beautiful views of forests and mountains as they journeyed. But out Ali¡¯s window was only blackness, interrupted occasionally by dimly lit rock walls.
Ali sat in a nearly empty train car across from his father, humming to himself. Above his father¡¯s head, Ali could see an LED sign with several burned out bulbs, which read ¡°Bastion,¡± their destination.
Ali wrestled with his feelings about moving to a new city. His gut told him that this move would be bad, though he wasn¡¯t sure why. Unquestionably, a change would be positive in some ways. Maybe he could even reinvent himself. Ali was not very popular at his old school. Ali was not great at talking to people. He often found himself the butt of other people¡¯s jokes, if not the target of outright bullying. He decided that at this new school, he would make some real friends.
Most would not consider Ali¡¯s current friends to be real friends, as they had never met him in person. He often spent his evenings chatting on forums or on aNet Messenger. Even though a couple of his chat friends did live in Bastion, there was no way he could ever meet any of them in person. Ali had created a completely different persona for his aNet profile, and never the twain should meet. He would keep his secret about moving and continue to contact those friends only over aNet.
Ali breathed in, focusing on pushing his unease out with his exhale, just like his therapist had taught him. He focused on the positive changes he¡¯d recently seen in his father. It was good. He was moving on. Ever since his mother died, Ali¡¯s dad had been having a difficult time adjusting, hardly sleeping, and focusing entirely on his work as an administrator for aNet. Some nights, Ali would have to cook dinner for himself. He often made an instant meal and fell asleep watching pre-mammock movies waiting for his father to come home from work.
A few months ago, though, Ali had seen a change in his father.
During his sleepless nights, Ali¡¯s father had been spending time on the forums and had fallen for someone. Someone in Bastion. A couple of weeks later, he had put in for a transfer and the next thing Ali knew, he and his father were packing to move closer to Tori, the woman his father had met.
Ali¡¯s father stood up from the seat across from him, bringing him back to reality. ¡°I¡¯m going to head to the restroom, buddy.¡±
Ali shifted in his seat. Pet names like ¡°buddy¡± and ¡°champ¡± really got on his nerves. When his mother was alive, she would call him ¡°pumpkin,¡± because he had been born on Halloween. That seemed better somehow, if a bit infantile.
¡°Please don¡¯t call me that. I¡¯m not a kid anymore, dad.¡±
His father nodded, running his forefinger and thumb through his stubbly chin hair. He had been trying to grow a goatee ever since receiving approval for his transfer request. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s a good point. You¡¯re growing into a young man.¡±
This was somehow even worse than ¡°buddy¡± had been. ¡°Young man¡± didn¡¯t fit Ali at all. He didn¡¯t feel like a man, young or otherwise.
There was a long, awkward silence, filled only by the clackity-clack of the train¡¯s progress toward Bastion. For some reason that he didn¡¯t want to process, Ali¡¯s body was now filled with adrenaline and his emotions oscillated from anger to embarrassment. Ali was suddenly appreciative that the rest of the train car was almost vacant. Unable to put his feelings into words ¡ª or even to understand them at all ¡ª he sat, looking at his dad, trying to convey the pain he felt through his eyes, until his father finally put his head down and walked to the restroom at the front of the car.
Alone and confused, Ali wished he had something to distract him from what he was feeling. He knew the train ride to Bastion was only a couple of hours, but now it was dragging on. Ali looked around the train car for something to amuse himself with until his eyes fell on his father¡¯s carry-on bag. Perhaps there was something in there to make the time go by faster.
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Ali jumped across to his father¡¯s seat and pulled the bag onto his lap, yanking the zipper open. ¡°Jackpot,¡± Ali said as he pulled out his father¡¯s laptop. It was a work computer, so he didn¡¯t have high hopes, but maybe there was a solitaire game or something he could do. Opening the laptop, Ali found it was in sleep mode. As the screen lit up, he saw a window was already open. A pane on the left side of the screen showed a list of names.
¡°What are these?¡± he mumbled to himself, trying to make some sense of the list and clicking on a name at random. A picture of a brown-haired boy with an awkward smile appeared. Ali read the text beneath the photo.
Te¨®filo Ahiga Age: 14 aOnline Handle: Umbra Cadere
¡°Weird...¡± Ali clicked on another name and was greeted this time by a photo of a blonde girl with a serious expression.
Skylar Barteau Age: 15 aOnline Handle: RuneKiss
Who were these people? They were all about the same age as Ali...
He started scrolling through the list of names to see if he recognized any of them, but heard the bathroom door at the other end of the car shut. He slammed the laptop shut and slid it back into his father¡¯s bag, placing it back on the seat beside him before hopping back across to his own.
Ali¡¯s father sat back down across from him. They sat in silence for a moment, Ali¡¯s heart beat in his ears. Had his father seen him?
Finally, his father broke the silence. ¡°Well, it looks like we¡¯re almost there.¡± Ali let out a deep breath and turned to look back out the window, but found only the same dim rock wall speeding past outside.
His mind began racing again, pondering the files he¡¯d seen. Could the people on the list be Tori¡¯s students? Ali was pretty sure his dad had mentioned that she was a high school teacher in Bastion. Even if they were, though, that didn¡¯t answer one other important question. What was aOnline? Obviously it had something to do with aNet, but what? Ali had been using aNet for his whole life and was pretty sure he would have heard of some new forum springing up, especially if it involved kids his age.
¡°Look, I know you don¡¯t know Tori...¡± Ali¡¯s father said. Ali looked over at his father, doing his best to put on a face that conveyed that he was paying attention, even though he wasn¡¯t. He really didn¡¯t have it in him to listen to another pep talk about the move. It was happening, whether he liked it or not, so Ali decided he would make the best of it. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that...¡±
Ali groaned inwardly. His dad must have taken his disinterest as a challenge.
¡°I know you haven¡¯t met Tori and that you don¡¯t appreciate being uprooted like this.¡±
Ali remained silent, hoping that it would be over quickly.
¡°But... You¡¯re going to love her! Plus, there are way more kids your age in Bastion.¡± Then, second guessing himself, Ali¡¯s father amended, ¡°Well, not kids¡ªI know you¡¯re not a kid anymore. But you know what I mean.¡±
Ali nodded, deciding to throw his dad a rope before he drowned.
¡°Bastion is the largest city left, as far as we know. Obviously we haven¡¯t heard from the west coast. Or more than a little bit of Canada, but...¡±
Ali gave his father another nod. He knew that the worldwide communication networks had all failed after the mammock, rendering it impossible to know what situation other parts of the world might be in.
¡°Anyway,¡± Ali¡¯s father continued, ¡°Things are going to be great. You¡¯ll see!¡±
Seeing his father happy again was nice, but something about this situation still bothered Ali. ¡°Don¡¯t you miss mom?¡± He knew as soon as he¡¯d said it, this was not the right thing to ask. Why couldn¡¯t he think before he spoke? This was why he didn¡¯t have real friends, Ali decided.
His father furrowed his brow. ¡°Of course... Of course I miss your mother. But she¡¯s gone now, and I ¡ª we ¡ª have to move on with our lives. We can¡¯t just stagnate and never live. Your mother died, yes. But she¡¯s dead, not us. She would want us to be happy.¡±
Ali was near tears at this point. His father had just moved over and placed a hand on Ali¡¯s shoulder when the intercom made them both jump. The screeching of the train¡¯s brakes and the accompanying shift of momentum sent Ali¡¯s father back to his own seat just in time to grab his carry-on bag before it hit the floor.
¡°Now arriving in Bastion. Please prepare to disembark.¡±
Standing up, Ali¡¯s father grinned sheepishly down at him, proud of himself for saving his luggage. ¡°It¡¯ll be good for both of us, I promise.¡±
Quickly wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes, Ali stood up, glad that his father hadn¡¯t tried to slip another pet name into that last comment. He and his father stepped into the line to exit the train and shuffled toward the exit. His father was right. His mother was gone, and he had to move on as well. He resolved to make the best of the move.
As he took the first step off of the train, Ali visualized himself stepping into an entirely new life.
After a moment of Ali standing and consciously breathing on the train platform, Ali¡¯s father put his arm around him and smiled. ¡°What do you say we sample some local cuisine for dinner while the movers set everything up at the house?¡±
Ali wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep, but reminded himself that he needed to stay open to the possibilities if he was going to enjoy it here in Bastion.
¡°Sure, dad,¡± he said, nodding and trying to smile. ¡°Let¡¯s do that.¡±
002 New Home
¡°Well, what do you think? A lot nicer than your room at our old place, right?¡± The smile on his dad¡¯s face was hopeful.
Ali surveyed the room, trying to take it all in and give it a chance. It was smaller than his old room, which he supposed made sense. There were more people in Bastion, so space was probably harder to come by. In the corner of his room, the movers had set up his bed, a twin, and put some light blue sheets on it. At either side of the bed were two doors. One was open, revealing his own bathroom. The other was closed, but Ali presumed it was a closet. Against the other walls were Ali¡¯s small dresser full of clothes, his rickety old bookshelf stuffed with books, and a new metal-framed desk with his computer set up on it, which was built into the wall.
The room was fine, Ali supposed, though he wondered what had happened to his old desk. He preferred the larger room he used to have, but he wanted to live up to his promise to himself and be positive about the move, so even though he would have preferred more space, he said, ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s nice.¡±
His father¡¯s smile broadened. ¡°I¡¯m really glad you like it. This place is going to grow on you, I¡¯m sure of it!¡± Ali¡¯s father put his arm around him again before continuing, ¡°We¡¯re going to make a new life here. A good life. I even had the movers hook your computer up to aNet for you already. In fact, there¡¯s a little surprise installed on there, as well. You should check it out later.¡±
A surprise? Now that piqued Ali¡¯s interest. He wondered what it might be, but told himself he¡¯d wait until he was all settled in first. His father backed away to let Ali look around the room, but continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway. Ali gave him his best smile, to reassure him he was happy in the new place. Even though he was fairly sure it came off more like a grimace, it seemed to appease his father, who simply said, ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll leave you to it. Don¡¯t stay up too late. We have breakfast with Tori in the morning.¡±
His father stepped out of the room and the door slid silently shut behind him. Those automated doors were going to take some getting used to.
Ali walked over to his dresser and pulled out the drawers one-by-one to find his clothing neatly arranged by category. The top drawer had his socks and underwear; the middle drawer, his shirts; and the bottom one had his pants. Just like home. His old home, Ali reminded himself. This was his home now. He stepped over and opened the closed door to find that it was indeed a closet. It was a walk-in closet, much larger than the one he had before.
¡°Oh, and one more thing!¡± Ali¡¯s father said from the once again open doorway, startling him. Those automatic sliding doors really were quiet. ¡°I just messaged you the link to your high school admissions paperwork. You¡¯re getting old enough to do stuff like that yourself, right?¡± Without even giving him time to answer, his father took a step backward, allowing the door to slide shut in front of him, leaving Ali was alone again.
He checked through the clothes hanging in the closet, making sure everything was there, before heading into the bathroom. It was nothing fancy. A sink, a toilet, and a shower ¡ª no tub. The movers had hung a hand towel near the sink and a larger one by the shower. His toothbrush sat by the sink in the turtle-shaped holder he had made when he was little. Even with all of his things in place, Ali still didn¡¯t feel at ease. Maybe a shower would make him feel more at home.
Ali peeled off his clothes and tried out his new shower. The water got hot immediately, another improvement from the old place. After the shower, he brushed his teeth before retrieving his pajamas from the closet and putting them on. He picked the red flannel ones his mother had given him the Mawlid before she had died. She hadn¡¯t been Muslim, but his father was ¡ª a sore spot for both sides of Ali¡¯s extended family. Ali¡¯s mother had always done her best to respect the traditions of her husband¡¯s culture, although she had been raised by atheists. She had only ever referred to herself as agnostic, though, unlike Ali¡¯s grandparents.
Obviously, with underpopulation being the problem it was, neither set of grandparents outwardly said anything about his parent¡¯s relationship ¡ª or his father¡¯s new relationship with Tori, for that matter ¡ª but Ali had heard his parents arguing multiple times about the difficulties of their interracial and intercultural relationship. His father had once accused his mother¡¯s parents of being racist, saying, ¡°They will always hate that you married a black man.¡± His father hadn¡¯t actually said ¡°black man,¡± but Ali had looked up the history behind the word he had used, and didn¡¯t want to even think it in his mind. Conversely, his mother had once explained, rather loudly, to Ali¡¯s father that his family had made it known that they were not happy with him marrying a non-Muslim.
Since his mother¡¯s death, he had only seen his mother¡¯s side of the family twice, and one of those times was at the funeral. Even before that, though, his father¡¯s side of the family had treated Ali differently. At a party when Ali was nine, his cousin had called him a mulatto, rather loudly, and in front of his parents. Ali¡¯s father wouldn¡¯t stand for it, and he took Ali and his mother home immediately. That was the last family party Ali had attended.
At least distance would provide a convenient, if inaccurate, excuse for why Ali had no genuine relationship with his extended family. He wondered if getting away from both sides of the family had anything to do with his father¡¯s reasoning behind moving to Bastion.
Sighing, Ali slid into his desk chair. That admission application wasn¡¯t going to do itself. He powered up the computer, noting as he always did the crack going from the center of the right side of his screen to the top. Much of what those who had survived the mammock had was salvaged from the old world, and Ali¡¯s computer was no exception. His father often said that aNet, the company he worked for, was planning for something bigger and better than even pre-mammock civilization had, but when Ali pressed him, his father never gave him more than a few vague hints.
Ali opened up aNet Messenger and found the link his father had sent. The questions on the application were fairly straightforward. Where are you from? What is your age? What schools have you attended in the past? And so on. Ali toyed with the idea of making himself sound cooler by stretching the truth with some of his answers, but none of them would have been that cool, anyway. The end of the form required a signature from Ali¡¯s parent or guardian. He opened the drawers of his desk, trying to locate where the movers had put his stylus. Finding it, he quickly slid it across the screen in an approximation of his father¡¯s signature. He had gotten pretty good at forging it when his mother died and his dad had thrown himself into his work.
¡°And send,¡± Ali said, tapping the button with his stylus. Now, with all the important stuff out of the way, he could check out the surprise his dad had mentioned. Minimizing his browser and messenger applications, he searched his desktop for any new icons. Despite how clean he liked his physical space, Ali¡¯s digital workspace was a mess. Icons of games he had played but never uninstalled, links to websites and forums he frequented, and homework documents littered his desktop. Finally, he found what must have been the new icon, a stylized letter A inside a letter O on a black background. Beneath the icon, the text read, simply, ¡°aOnline.¡±
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Ali remembered the name, but he couldn¡¯t quite remember from what. As he opened the largest drawer in his new desk and fished around for his VR headset and controller, he wracked his brain trying to remember where he¡¯d heard of aOnline before. Then it dawned on him, as he hooked up his gaming gear to the computer, the files he had seen on his father¡¯s computer had listed ¡°aOnline Handle¡± for each user on the list.
Was aOnline the project his father had been working such long hours to complete? It had to be.
Double clicking the icon, Ali slid his headset on and found himself in a familiar empty black space. This was the VR loading screen. After a moment, a sword, rendered in 3D, began rotating in front of him. Beneath the sword, words appeared, spoken aloud in a familiar feminine voice, ¡°Welcome to Apocalypse Online Beta.¡±
Ali knew that voice. He didn¡¯t even have to think about who it belonged to. He knew it in the deepest parts of his being. It was the voice of his mother. He had no idea how or why, but the voice of his mother had just greeted him in a video game.
He sat for a moment in shock before a different voice came through his headset. ¡°Unexpected moisture buildup in VR headset. Please remove and clean before continuing.¡±
Ali took off the headset, wiping his tears from his face before grabbing the hand towel from the bathroom to dry the inside of the VR goggles.
How had his father replicated his mother¡¯s voice so perfectly? Had she recorded it before she died? Ali knew that his mother often helped his father with his work, but he had never expected to hear her again.
Taking a deep breath, Ali slid the headset back over his eyes. He found that the character creation screen had loaded in his absence. A blank slate of a being, positioned in the shape of an X, like a famous sketch by Leonardo da Vinci that Ali had once seen in a school textbook, hung in the air in front of Ali. Behind the blank character was a tree. Upon each leaf of the tree, Ali could make out tiny roads and rivers, towns and cities.
¡°The story of Apocalypse Online takes place in a word represented as an enormous tree,¡± the voice of Ali¡¯s mother began. The VR headset must have told the game¡¯s AI that his eyes were looking at the background. It continued to fill Ali in on the information it assumed he was wondering about. ¡°Each leaf of the World Tree is a small world of its own. Only those born with a special gift can achieve travel between worlds. We call these special few sojourners. You will be playing the game as one such traveller.¡±
The background of the tree blurred and the character in the foreground seemed to become more pronounced. A nose, a mouth. Then it froze and Ali¡¯s mother spoke again, ¡°Would you like to create a character using your own unconscious representation of yourself?¡±
Ali was taken aback. Was that even possible? Was the game implying that it could actually read his mind? He knew that the VR headset could map out what areas he was looking at and guess what he was thinking, as it had demonstrated earlier with its explanation of the World Tree, but knowing the inner workings of his mind? It seemed impossible.
¡°Yes,¡± Ali said. The character hanging in the air before him changed shape, and Ali thought he could make out some of his own facial features. Then, suddenly, it reverted to its blank state again.
¡°Neural net not found. Loading from unconscious representation: not possible. Retry?¡±
Well, that was disappointing, but kind of expected. Ali knew it was too good to be true. Just then, a familiar alert sound came through his headset. Ali subvocalized ¡°Messenger¡± and the aNet UI appeared, showing him a new message from his father:
¡°Hey, I forgot to tell you about part of your surprise. You¡¯ll need to look under your bed. Also, don¡¯t forget to take your meds before you get too engrossed in the game.¡±
Ali took the headset off. He assumed that the hardware he was lacking was what was under his bed, but he also doubted he would have the self-discipline to keep himself from hooking it up and immediately trying it out if he did that first. So, he took care of his meds first, just in case. Then, he got down on his hands and knees to look under his bed. He found a box, which claimed to contain one haptic suit. Ali opened the box and pulled out a bag containing what appeared to be a flexible wetsuit. He slid it out of the bag and pulled off his pajamas before stepping into the haptic suit. Before he could look for a zipper to close it, the suit shifted and closed the gap on its own, constricting around him and becoming skin-tight.
¡°It¡¯s like a full-body wedgie,¡± Ali mumbled to himself. It was more than a little uncomfortable. And claustrophobic, in a way. Oh well. Ali would get used to it if he enjoyed aOnline. Catching his reflection in the mirror over his dresser, Ali put his pajamas back on over the suit, just in case his father came in. Then he walked back over to his computer and slid the VR headset back on.
Ali still faced the nearly blank avatar. The text below the blank character read, ¡°Haptic-neural net not found. Loading from unconscious representation: not possible. Retry?¡±
¡°Retry,¡± Ali said. As the character before him took shape, Ali wondered to himself how the ¡°neural net¡± part of this worked. Perhaps the haptic suit had some sort of in-built MRI? He would have to ask his dad later.
After about a minute, the character took form and, looking over its smooth curves, Ali¡¯s heart raced. As color flowed over the character, giving the avatar the same sepia tone as Ali, his fears became reality. A girl stood in front of him, no longer hanging motionless in the shape of an X. She looked back at him with a realism that Ali had never seen in a video game, even from the best pre-mammock tech.
The short-haired girl was wearing unassuming clothing in a pseudo-medieval style: a black tunic, tanned leather riding pants held up by an intricate system of laces, and matching riding boots. Her piercing brown eyes matched Ali¡¯s own.
Was this really what he looked like inside? As soon as the question had formed in his mind, Ali knew the answer was yes. This was why he¡¯d created a female persona for his aNet profile. This was who he was, and it was being reflected back at him like a mirror. It felt like Ali was being seen for the first time. It was exhilarating.
At the same time, though, it was clear that Ali¡¯s father had information about what went on inside aOnline. And it was equally clear to Ali what his father thought about gender non-conforming behavior. A couple of years ago, Ali had expressed some romantic interest in one of his classmates. A boy named Nathan.
Upon finding out, both of his parents had chastised him. His father, because he believed, like many religious people, that such a thing went against Allah¡¯s plan. His mother used underpopulation to explain the importance of him being with a woman, presumably as a man. Ali had always told himself that his secret female aNet persona directly resulted from this experience. If he could not fall in love with a boy as a boy, then he would simply be a girl.
This avatar before him, however, made Ali second guess everything about himself... Herself? Was Ali really a girl? It felt right, in a way. It was a deep down feeling of right-ness.
But then the avatar fell slowly away, circling her way toward one of the many tiny leaves in the distance. Fear took hold of Ali.
¡°No!¡± he said. But the avatar kept falling. He couldn¡¯t allow the game to choose this avatar for him. His father would surely find out and then... What? Ali wasn¡¯t sure, but it wouldn¡¯t be good.
¡°Cancel! Cancel!¡± but the world around Ali faded away...
003 Freeport
¡°Whoa there, Sojourner.¡± A firm hand reached down to help lift the girl to her feet. ¡°Careful there, lassie. Sometimes the Traveling takes a lot out of ye. What¡¯s yer name?¡±
¡°Ugh...¡± The girl shook her head, trying to clear it. What was her name again? ¡°Ali¡ª¡± She cleared her throat before trying again, ¡°Alice.¡± Yes. That was it, wasn¡¯t it?
¡°Welcome to Freeport, Alice Sojourner. The name¡¯s Azeri. Azeri Halfhands.¡± The man held up his left arm to show that it ended with a hook where his hand ought to have been. ¡°Lost me hand in an accident at sea.¡±
Alice looked around and found herself at the end of a dock. All around her, a maze of piers and docks intertwined to form a web-like structure. Surrounding the docks was a vast ocean as far as the eye could see, which, to be fair, wasn¡¯t all that far. A thick fog hovered along the horizon. Alice decided Azeri must have been passing by ¡ª perhaps he worked on one of the nearby ships ¡ª and noticed her when she had fallen.
¡°Anyway, looks like ye¡¯ve regained yer wits. I¡¯ll leave ye to yer business. Let ol¡¯ Azeri know if ye be needin¡¯ any work. Always lookin¡¯ fer deckhands, I am. Make sure ye get some food in ye soon, lass. That ought to help with the dizziness.¡±
Alice nodded and thanked him for his kindness before walking away, not wanting to trouble the man any further. The first few steps took a lot out of her, but she didn¡¯t fall over like she must have before. At the far end of the dock she was on, she saw a rather sizeable platform accessible from the surrounding docks by a series of rickety wooden stairs. Alice passed more than a few ships and boats as she walked, many bustling with workers unloading or loading cargo. Others looked completely deserted, and she wondered if some of them were even seaworthy any longer. When she was about halfway to the stairs, Alice noticed she was in a particularly peaceful area. She stopped to listen to the gentle gushing of the waves against the wooden pillars holding the pier aloft, watching a group of seagulls preening themselves on the roof of a nearby ship.
Alice watched the sun come up, enjoying the oranges and reds streaking across the sky. Then she noticed a strange ball of light in the opposite direction from the true sun. It looked almost like a slightly dimmer sun floating on the water in the distance. Alice could tell this one wasn¡¯t the actual sun because it didn¡¯t hurt her eyes to look directly at it. As she watched it moving along the surface of the water, she guessed it must have been about the size of her head and that it was moving toward her, rushing across the surface of the waves, dodging here and there as necessary to keep from being pulled beneath the water. Alice giggled to herself nervously, hoping it would make it to her safely as it narrowly avoided a high wave.
¡°Phew!¡± the little light said in a somehow familiar voice as it finally hovered over to Alice¡¯s side. As it spoke, the orb¡¯s color changed ever so slightly, so that even just looking at it, Alice could tell it was speaking. ¡°You¡¯re hard to track down, Sojourner!¡±
Alice giggled again. ¡°I wasn¡¯t intentionally running from you. I just didn¡¯t know you were looking for me. Who might you be? Do I know you? You seem somehow familiar...¡±
¡°My name is unpronounceable by fleshy things like tongues and mouths. I¡¯m called¡ª¡± The light erupted into a chorus of music box-esque sound before continuing, ¡°You can just call me Sprink if you like. And, no, I¡¯ve not met you in this particular form, Sojourner.¡±
¡°Well, Sprink,¡± Alice grinned as she said the creature¡¯s name. It felt slightly silly on her tongue. ¡°What can I do for you?¡±
¡°It¡¯s more like, ¡®What can I do for you?¡¯¡± the bobbing little light said. That voice was definitely familiar. Alice felt like Sprink was someone important to her, but she couldn¡¯t remember how or why. It was almost as if it had been in a different life. What had it ¡ª she? The light¡¯s melodic voice had a feminine quality to it ¡ª meant about ¡°this particular form?¡±
¡°Um, well,¡± Alice said, ¡°I¡¯m not sure. What can you do for me?¡±
Sprink bobbed around in a circle, taking in Alice from every angle before returning to hover in front of her. ¡°It appears that I am your guide.¡±
Alice wondered why it only appeared that way, but kept the thought to herself. She got the feeling that if she voiced it, she¡¯d end up even more confused than she already was. Maybe when her head cleared. Instead, she said, ¡°Well, if you¡¯re my guide, then I have some questions: who am I and where am I?¡±
Sprink changed colors to pink and then yellow and finally to orange before answering. ¡°According to my records, you are Alice, a new Sojourner. This is your first Traveling, so you might feel slightly disoriented. It¡¯s my job to help you until you feel comfortable on your own. As for where you are, this is Freeport. This city is sort of like a hub for Sojourners. Most of your kind make this their first Traveling destination. Here you can learn the skills you¡¯ll need to succeed in the wider World Tree. Make sense?¡±
Alice wasn¡¯t sure that it had, but she decided she¡¯d probably figure out the rest along the way. If Freeport really was as Sprink had said, then she should be pretty safe here until she got her bearings.
¡°Well, I guess I¡¯d better take a look around,¡± Alice said, walking toward the stairs again. Sprink matched her pace, hovering beside her about shoulder level. Apparently, the little light was going to be following her around.
After accidentally finding herself at more than a couple of dead ends, Alice finally made her way into the city proper. Alice had been walking for some time now and still had seen no sign of land ¡ª just water and wooden piers. As she stepped off the stairs and onto the planks of the platform above, Sprink piped up again, ¡°Freeport, city between the worlds. Its unique position so close to the trunk of the World Tree makes it a must-see destination for any Sojourner. Here you¡¯ll find a sprawling marketplace, fueled by Freeport¡¯s extensive trade network. A council made up of the heads of the six major guilds rule over the city. If you¡¯re looking for work, you might try the guilds or the job boards in the middle of the market square.¡±
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Alice found herself in a sprawling marketplace with merchant carts haphazardly set up all over the place, and vendors shouting to passersby. Remembering what Azeri had said about eating, Alice looked over the goods being hocked in the market square and spotted an interesting-looking fruit. She¡¯d never seen anything like it and had no idea what it was called. So she held up the fruit she wanted and shouted to the merchant over the ambient noise of the marketplace, ¡°How much for this one?¡± Her mouth was watering just looking at it!
¡°Aye, m¡¯lady. Crimsonfruit is in season and delicious. I could let go for a mere two silver dents.¡±
Apparently sensing Alice¡¯s confusion, Sprink chimed in, ¡°A dent is the official currency of the Sojourner Empire. They¡¯re traded and accepted almost anywhere, thanks to the Sojourners¡¯ tendency for prolific traveling. They come in five types: brass, copper, silver, gold, and platinum. Ten brass dents are equal to one copper dent. Likewise, ten copper dents are the same as one silver, and so on.¡±
Alice ran her hand over her trousers, but could find no pockets. Likewise, there were none on her tunic. She had no coin purse tied to her belt, either. Just as she was about to give up, Sprink did a little loop in the air and said, ¡°If you¡¯re looking for your money or items, you won¡¯t find them there! As a Sojourner, you have access to some of the best magic money can buy. All you have to do is put your pointer finger and middle finger together, like a closed number two, and swipe it down, like this!¡± At this, Sprink did a little dip.
Alice tried it, and as she did, a floating screen immediately blocked her vision of the marketplace. On the left side of the screen was a picture of Alice herself, with little square equipment slots running up and down either side of her. In the slot marked body was a picture of the tunic she was wearing and the words ¡°Common Tunic (White).¡± Below that, in the legs slot, were her trousers, ¡°Common Lace-up Trousers (Tanned).¡± Below that was the slot marked feet, which showed her boots and the words ¡°Common Boots (Tanned).¡± All the other slots were empty.
To the right of her equipment was a list marked ¡°Inventory,¡± which currently contained only one item: Sojourner¡¯s Key. Tapping on the item brought up a picture, a purple crystal with a hole near its base. A long leather strap was fitted through the hole so that the crystal could be worn as a necklace. Alice swiped left and right on the picture of the item, giggling to herself as it rotated the crystal in a 3D view. Below the picture was a description, which, when Alice looked at it, was spoken aloud by what sounded like Sprink. ¡°The Sojourner¡¯s Key is a crystal which allows the bearer to Travel. A Sojourner¡¯s Key is bound to its owner and cannot be traded, sold, or stolen. Because of this, many Sojourners wear their key around their neck like a pendant. It is said that the crystal¡¯s color reveals something important about its owner. However, the interpretation of crystal colors this is highly speculative.¡±
Below this was a button to equip the item in the neck slot. Alice pressed it, returning her to the inventory screen. Alice noted that in her neck slot was a picture of the purple crystal and the words ¡°Sojourner¡¯s Key.¡± Likewise, her avatar on the screen now had a purple crystal hanging from her neck. Alice¡¯s inventory was now empty, however. Looking around the screen for anything she may have missed, Alice noticed a list of letters and numbers at the top of the screen: B5 C5 S10 G0 P0. Using the information she had learned from Sprink earlier, she tried tapping the one that said ¡°S10.¡± Just as she suspected, a dialogue window opened, asking how many silver dents she would like to withdraw. She typed in the number two on the pin pad that appeared next to the dialogue and closed her inventory by repeating the hand gesture she had used earlier.
In Alice¡¯s left hand, she now held two silver dents. She also noted the weight of the Sojourner¡¯s Key around her neck. The merchant held out his hand palm up and she placed the two coins in his hand before happily picking up the fruit ¡ª crimsonfruit, she remembered ¡ª she¡¯d been wanting to eat. She walked over to a seating area near the center of the marketplace, noticing what must have been the bulletin boards Sprink had mentioned earlier lining one side of the square.
As she sat and ate her fruit, Alice took in the sights and smells around her. On the far side of the market stood six sizable buildings, partially obscured by the fog which still loomed over the city. These were the only buildings Alice had seen in Freeport thus far. The marketplace itself was bustling with people and her senses were constantly noticing fresh smells from the vendors as the wind changed directions.
One person in the crowd stood out to her, though. As the cloaked figure moved from vendor to vendor, their eyes always ended up back on Alice, watching her. The stranger was another Sojourner ¡ª they had to be, since they also had a little light creature like Sprink hovering near them. They wore a green cloak with the hood up, but this did little to hide the red curls peeking out from underneath it. When the red-haired stranger noticed Alice watching back and their gazes met, their eyes widened and they walked hurriedly away, becoming lost in the crowded marketplace. Try as she might, Alice couldn¡¯t seem to catch another glimpse of the green cloak or red curls.
¡°Oh well,¡± she said between bites of the crimsonfruit. Perhaps they had just been curious about a new arrival. Alice turned to her floating companion. Hoping to learn more about Sprink, she said, ¡°Hey, Sprink? what pronouns can I use to speak and think about you?¡±
¡°Hmm,¡± Sprink elongated the sound, flashing brightly while pondering the question. Finally, it said, ¡°As you are my charge, I suppose it makes sense for you to decide. My kind aren¡¯t particular to any genders.¡±
Alice thought about it, and this didn¡¯t seem quite fair. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem right for me to decide for you, though. Everyone should be allowed to decide on their own pronouns.¡± Yes. Alice was sure of that. ¡°I think your voice sounds a bit feminine, but that doesn¡¯t necessarily make you a woman. You could be a feminine man. Or a feminine non-binary person. Do you think you might be non-binary, since there are no genders for your species?¡±
Sprink bobbed up and down in what might have been an emulated nod. ¡°Yes, that seems quite possible. Are there pronouns for non-binary persons?¡±
Alice giggled. ¡°Well, there¡¯s they/them pronouns, for starters. I could say, ¡®This is my friend, Sprink. They are my guide,¡¯ for instance.¡±
¡°Then it¡¯s settled!¡± Sprink said with a tremolo, which Alice took as a sign of excitement.
¡°Well, that¡¯s good! So, if you don¡¯t mind me asking, you mentioned your kind. What exactly are you, Sprink? I mean, other than a guide. I¡¯ve seen a few people now who also have guides like you.¡±
Sprink cycled through a rainbow of colors before answering, ¡°I am a part of the whole. A spark from a fire. If the oversoul is a painting, I am but a single stroke of it. Most people just call us ¡®guides.¡¯ But...¡± Sprink let out a melodic sigh. ¡°These words do no justice to what we actually are. Let me tell you in my own language.¡±
At this, the bobbing light broke into another song, displaying a wide variety of lights as they sang. The melody was complex and never repeated, but the same themes kept resurfacing throughout the song. As she finished her fruit and Sprink¡¯s song came to a close, a sense of nostalgia came over Alice. Perhaps the little light really was telling her the secrets of the universe in their own way.
¡°Earlier,¡± Alice had to clear her throat before continuing, ¡°You said there were six major guilds. Is that what those buildings are over there?¡±
Sprink bobbed up and down. ¡°Oh, yes! You deduced correctly. I can tell you¡¯re going to go far, Alice! Those are the six guildhalls of the major guilds.¡±
¡°Well, seems as good a place as any to start.¡± Alice stood and, with the memory of Sprink¡¯s song still echoing in her mind, walked toward the distant buildings.
004 Runekiss
¡°Looking for work, Sojourner?¡± A burly woman shouted to Alice as she walked into the guildhall with the hammer and anvil sign above the door. She nodded, though, in truth, she wasn¡¯t really sure that she was looking for work. It was more that she was looking for purpose. Having eaten, as Captain Azeri had suggested, she now felt a bit aimless.
¡°You¡¯ve come to the right place, then. This is the Crafting Guildhall.¡± Alice could have guessed as much, considering the area was filled with crafters¡¯ stalls. People were weaving, others hammering away, and still others were sawing wood. ¡°Feel free to ask around. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find plenty of folks are paying for materials and ingredients.¡±
Alice thanked the woman for the information and wandered through the stalls. There were jewelers, smiths, woodworkers, weavers, alchemists, chefs, bakers, leatherworkers, fletchers, and crafters of types that Alice couldn¡¯t even place. Some workers were fellow Sojourners. Alice was getting good at distinguishing them by their necklaces or, if that failed, most of them also had guides like Sprink.
As Alice looked over the booths and stalls, she had the uneasy feeling that she was being watched. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she rushed past the next stall and turned the corner, trying to get away just in case her feeling was correct. After making the turn, she peeked back around the corner to see if she spotted anyone.
¡°I knew it!¡± Alice said to herself. It was the same green cloaked, red-haired person from before. And they were walking toward her. ¡°Hey, Sprink?¡± Alice whispered to her companion before dashing down and past a few more stalls and turning another corner.
¡°Yes?¡± Her guide bounced and bobbed as it kept pace.
¡°Is there any way that you could...¡± Alice broke off, unsure how to word what she wanted to say. She needed to be delicate, as she wasn¡¯t sure of the proper etiquette with other species. ¡°What I mean to say is, can you be less bright?¡±
¡°Oh, yes. Are you worried that the other Sojourner is tracking you by the light I¡¯m giving off?¡± Alice nodded. ¡°Very well then. I can be unsummoned and summoned at will by my charge. All you need to do is make one hand into a fist and the other into a flat plane ¡ª like you are playing rock, paper, scissors. That¡¯s it. Now just cover the paper with the rock and¡ª¡±
As Alice completed the motion, Sprink vanished. Now she just had to get some more distance to lose that creep. A few more twists and turns and she felt like she had lost them completely.
¡°Ho there, traveler!¡± A short and lean man with glasses waved Alice over to his stall. Alembics filled with various concoctions lined the shelves behind the crafter and he seemed to have stopped in the middle of grinding some colorful ingredient in a mortar and pestle in order to call out to Alice. As she walked over to the fellow, he smiled and said, ¡°My name is Phineas. You wouldn¡¯t happen to be looking for something to do, would you? I have an ingredient that I could use some help in obtaining.¡±
Alice tried to play it cool. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±
¡°I¡¯m in need of a rare ingredient. There''re dents to be had, of course. If you don¡¯t mind a little danger, that is.¡±
Alice wasn¡¯t sure she was equipped for danger. She didn¡¯t even have a weapon. Still, the man¡¯s request had piqued her interest. ¡°What sort of danger?¡±
Phineas shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not actually sure. I¡¯ve sent my apprentice to the Isle of Wisps, but he didn¡¯t return. So, I asked my guildmate to send his apprentice, and she, too, never returned. What could be keeping them is anyone¡¯s guess.¡±
Alice nodded, wondering if she could make a deal that was beneficial for both of them. ¡°It sounds like it could be quite dangerous. I might need some new gear if I¡¯m going to do that. Any chance for an advance on the reward?¡±
The alchemist looked like he¡¯d eaten something sour, his mouth twisting in distaste. But, to Alice¡¯s surprise, he agreed. ¡°Very well. My need is great. I¡¯m nearly to the point that I will require wisp oil to continue my work. If I don¡¯t get any soon, the whole thing is going to be wasted. I can give you four gold dents for your trouble. Two now and two more when you return. In fact, make it before sundown and I¡¯ll double the second half!¡± Phineas looked thoughtful for a moment and then added, ¡°That would be six altogether for a quick turnaround. I forget you brawny sorts aren¡¯t always good with math.¡±
It was Alice¡¯s turn to look affronted, but she held her tongue. ¡°You¡¯ve got a deal,¡± Alice said, putting her right hand out to shake on it.
Phineas looked at her hand quizzically for a moment before realization dawned on his face. ¡°Ah... Yes... It¡¯s a Sojourner custom. I¡¯m to hold on to your hand while you try to escape my grasp, correct?¡± Without waiting for an answer, the man grabbed Alice¡¯s hand in both of his. She tried to yank her hand out of his grasp, but he had quite a firm grip for such a small person. Eventually, after much wriggling and pulling, Alice managed to free her hand. As she did so, Phineas nodded matter-of-factly. ¡°You folk really do have some strange customs. Anyway, don¡¯t forget your coins!¡± He laughed to himself and handed Alice two gold dents.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to know a good blacksmith, would you?¡± Alice asked as she checked her inventory to see how much money she had.
B5 C5 S8 G2 P0
¡°You should check with RuneKiss. She¡¯s one of the best blacksmiths around and she¡¯s a Sojourner, like you.¡± Phineas pointed down a few stalls to one that was nearly surrounded by people.
As Alice pushed her way through the crowd so she could get a look at RuneKiss¡¯ wares, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder if she¡¯d even be able to afford anything she had made. If a smith was this popular, her prices were probably far too high. Finally, she made it to the front of the crowd and saw why so many people had gathered. RuneKiss ¡ª or so Alice assumed ¡ª was working on a blade.
The Sojourner woman was wearing a black apron over clothing that looked very similar to Alice¡¯s own. Her strawberry blonde hair was up in a ponytail, no doubt to keep it out of the way of her work, and a generous number of freckles sprinkled her face. She held a hammer in both hands as she worked, which was a technique Alice had never seen.
The scimitar on the woman¡¯s anvil was nearly finished, it seemed, but as she struck it a final time with her hammer, Alice swore she could feel the heat from the sparks that flew off. Wiping sweat from her brow, RuneKiss set the hammer down and lifted the sword to inspect it. The blade was beautiful. As RuneKiss conjured water from thin air to cool the blade, Alice decided that the curve of the sword reminded her of a crescent moon and noticed swirling patterns taking shape within the metal. The blade seemed to continue to glow, even after it cooled, and Alice knew she had to have it.
Alice almost bumped into the person standing behind her when RuneKiss tested the blade, swiping it left and right in the air in front of her before handing it to her apprentice, who hung the weapon on the wall behind her with the other weapons she had for sale. The crowd burst into applause while RuneKiss surveyed the gathered mass. As her eyes moved over the group of people, they seemed to linger for a moment on Alice, though she couldn¡¯t be sure if it was only her imagination.
RuneKiss turned and whispered something in her apprentice¡¯s ear before pushing aside a cloth hanging near the back of the stall and disappearing inside. The apprentice stepped forward and addressed the crowd. ¡°That¡¯s it for today, folks! RuneKiss is retiring for the afternoon. Thanks for all your support, and remember, our shop is always open!¡±
At this, the crowd dispersed, so Alice took the opportunity to approach the counter, which a merchant moved forward to man. She was far from the only person to do so, however, and Alice hoped that the scimitar RuneKiss had just made would still be available when she reached the counter.
As she waited in line for her turn, however, the apprentice approached her. ¡°Would you mind coming with me?¡± she asked, holding out her clenched fist to Alice.
¡°Um,¡± Alice said uncertainly, cupping her hands beneath the apprentice¡¯s. A small paper fell into her palms from the other girl¡¯s hand. Alice unfolded it and read what was written inside:
I¡¯d like to meet you. ¡ª RuneKiss
¡°Are you sure she meant me?¡± Alice asked the apprentice, who nodded in response. ¡°But I¡¯m no one. I just got here.¡±
¡°That,¡± the apprentice said matter-of-factly, ¡°is exactly why she would like to see you.¡± With that, the apprentice started walking toward the entrance RuneKiss had disappeared through. Alice couldn¡¯t think of any reason not to follow, so she did.
As she slipped past the curtain and into the back of the stall, Alice had to take a moment for her eyes to adjust.
¡°Sorry,¡± a voice said from the dim room, ¡°I prefer the dark sometimes. It¡¯s... comforting to me. Sort of feels like home.¡±
Alice wasn¡¯t sure what to say, so the silenced dragged on for a bit while her eyes adjusted. Once she could finally see, she saw a small sitting room, and that RuneKiss was relaxing on a sofa situated against one wall.
¡°You know, you could have just summoned your guide to light up the area. But I appreciate you respecting my situation.¡± Alice had completely forgotten about Sprink, but it seemed that was for the best. ¡°I can tell by your breathing that your eyes are adjusting. You seem a little less panicked. Would you care to sit down?¡± RuneKiss motioned to one of the other sofas and Alice took a seat. ¡°What¡¯s your name? You¡¯re a newbie, right?¡±
¡°A what?¡± Alice hadn¡¯t ever heard that word before. RuneKiss chuckled, but said nothing. Then Alice remembered the other half of her question. ¡°Err... I¡¯m Alice.¡±
¡°That¡¯s funny. Sounds like a regular name, not a handle. I¡¯m RuneKiss. It¡¯s nice to meet you.¡± Alice was extremely confused at this point. A regular name? What did that mean? This girl was really strange. ¡°Anyway... I wanted to offer you some free gear, since you¡¯re new and all. Someone did the same for me when I started playing, so I when I saw you looking all doe-eyed at that shamshir I was making, I figured it¡¯s only fair if I pass along the goodwill.¡±
¡°Playing? Playing what?¡± Alice asked.
¡°Oh... You¡¯re one of those hardcore role players, right?¡± RuneKiss smiled.
¡°Role players? I¡¯m not sure what you mean.¡±
RuneKiss winked at Alice. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure you don¡¯t. Sorry about that.¡± Alice was beyond flummoxed now, but before she could ask for more clarification, RuneKiss continued, ¡°Anyway, why don¡¯t you open up your inventory? I sent you a trade request. You should be able to tell by the sound in your headset.¡±
Alice wasn¡¯t sure what a headset was, and she had heard nothing unusual, but she opened up her inventory obediently. Sure enough, there was a dialogue box with a trade request from RuneKiss. Alice accepted the trade, still confused about what was going on. RuneKiss placed several items in the trade area and then her name turned yellow, indicating she had made the offer. Alice accepted and was taken back to the inventory screen. She closed it out for now. She¡¯d have time to look at the gear later.
¡°All right newbie...¡± RuneKiss giggled. ¡°Or should I say, ¡®Good day to thee, I bid thee farewell, till next our paths do cross?¡¯¡± At this, she burst out laughing in truth.
Alice didn¡¯t really get the joke, but tried to fake a laugh, hoping it wasn¡¯t too obvious that she was being disingenuous. RuneKiss had given her free gear, after all. She didn¡¯t want to seem rude. Which reminded her...
¡°Thank you, RuneKiss.¡± Alice bowed slightly, unsure of the best way to show her appreciation. ¡°I will use this equipment to the best of my ability.¡± Thinking of the scimitar, she added, ¡°And I¡¯ll be back to buy that shamshir! Hopefully soon!¡±
RuneKiss laughed again. ¡°I¡¯ll hold it for you, Alice. Go get ¡®em, girl!¡±
At this, Alice felt a twinge of something. Longing? She couldn¡¯t quite place it.
The apprentice must have remained within earshot, because as the conversation wound down, she reappeared to escort Alice back out into the guildhall proper. She took one last look at the scimitar before walking out of the Crafting Guildhall. The difference in Alice¡¯s posture from when she entered to when she exited would have been obvious to any observer. Now she walked with purpose.