《Age of Victoria》 Chapter 1 Slowly the mighty huntress sneaks through the environment, her silent footsteps staggered to break up the motion. Ducking low, she waits for the moment to strike, her hand reaching out for the prey¡¯s young. Careful¡­careful¡­now! With sudden violence, the huntress snags the young, then makes a mad dash for the- ¡°Victoria Marie Blythe, you will put those cookies back right this moment.¡± Ducking my head, I turned and put the two cookies in my hand back on the tray, while a partially eaten conquest hid my smile. Seeing the treat in my mouth, Emma smiled and shooed me away while snagging one of her own. While Emma might act like my mother, she was the same age as my sister, just two years older than me. Chewing the remains of my cookie quickly, I gave her a lopsided grin then I tramped through the servant''s hallway back to the family wing. Ms. Northrop hated whenever I used the servant ways, but if I wanted to stay away from her, then they were my best option. Leaving Emma working industriously to make the lunch meal, as well as baking treats for dinner, I stopped at the back stairway to listen for the sound of heels and the swish of petticoats. Leaning on the dark oak handrail of the narrow stairs, I strained for the sounds of Ms. Northrop¡¯s stern voice. I wished to avoid her at all costs. I had been free for the last few hours from her comments, her scowl, and her cutting ways. It wasn¡¯t that the Governess was evil or abusive, I couldn''t stand that we had a Governess assigned to us at all. We were nearly adults -the wedding of my sister was to be the day after tomorrow- but still, our father had appointed someone to watch and control us. Though, given the fading faculties of Owen, it was not that surprising that Father had wanted a woman assigned to us. We wouldn¡¯t want tongues wagging back in London after all. Slinking up the stairs, I waited at the top to see if the distant voice of Ms. Northrop was in the family wing tea room, or closer to the sitting rooms and bedrooms. When her voice faded on my ascent, I smiled and then made a soft-footed rush to my room. Closing the wooden door to my room, I started to gently spin around in my bedroom with my arms held out at the joy of outwitting my watcher. Not that my escape from my lessons had been some significant adventure. With my sister to be wed shortly, I had become a low priority victim of Ms. Northrop¡¯s verbal lashings. The thought of what I would experience when my sister lived with her new husband though, filled me with dread. Ms. Northrop¡¯s wrath over my ¡®silly childish acts¡¯ and ¡®brutish and uncouth behavior¡¯ were already long-winded tirades. I doubted her recriminations would shorten when my sister was no longer a target. Quickly, I reached my limit for spinning. It was mostly knowing that it would be disagreed with rather than the act itself, that I enjoyed. Still, my smile almost split my face as I ceased then opened my wardrobe and reached for my pride and joy. Hidden in the back of the closet, tucked beneath the hanging dresses, was a medium sized chest usually reserved for accessories like belts and pins. Struggling with the cumbersome box, I pulled my treasure chest out of the wardrobe and onto the floor. I waited, listening to see if I would hear someone approaching, this was the most critical moment. Being caught before, or after, would matter little, but being found with my secret exposed, that would be my undoing. Finding nothing to suggest an imminent visit, I pulled on the small metal design on the outside of the box. Opening the chest, I removed the false bottom and exposed the treasure hidden inside. Reaching in, I smiled as I grasped my pride and joy. The pants I pulled loose from the depths of the chest were plain. They had no lace, no frills, and the thick linen was rough against my skin, but they meant more than all my pretty dresses combined. These pants were cut to my exact figure and hid my feminine curves while allowing for a full range of motion. With these, I could run through the forest or climb the hills and trees. I wouldn¡¯t be forced to sit daintily sipping tea on a picnic outing, no, I would be free to explore and adventure. Well, as much experience as I could obtain in the small woods a mile from our summer mansion. Combined with the loose white, buttoned-up shirt and cap, I could pretend to be some young man out on a lark. Pulling out my pants, and tucking away the chest with its secret compartment, I stuffed my adventuring clothes under a pile of fabric within the depths of my wardrobe. The design of my pants came from reports of what the women of the Dress Reform Movement wore. That is, what little I could glean from the paper¡¯s scandalized comments on the style. The plan was to wait for Robert¡¯s arrival tomorrow, with whatever invention or curio he was sure to bring, and then sneak out as everyone else was tied up with preparing for the wedding. Given the rushed nature of the marriage -Robert¡¯s family needing a sudden influx of funds because of a failed shipment of tea- the few people here would be unlikely to notice my absence. I frowned as I thought of Robert and his less frequent visits. I still yearned for the days of our youth. Annie, Emma, and I would play in the garden while Emma¡¯s mom Sophia would watch us. We would dance and sing together as if no social caste separated us. Robert would join us while his uncle would trade tall tales with Father. We grew up together playing as if we were all the same. It wasn¡¯t until Father was called back to India by the Queen, and Sophia died that things had fallen apart. Suddenly, Emma was no longer a friend, but a servant expected to take her mother¡¯s place as the head maid. Sure, it was an important position, and it meant Emma was clothed and fed, and in the future could find a husband, but it also meant Annie, and I could no longer talk to her as an equal. The change in Emma¡¯s station was worse for Robert though. Sniffling, I dabbed at my eyes before turning away from the past and what was. Quickly I checked my dress, smoothing out any wrinkles which might have formed while kneeling to remove my treasures. Finding my appearance was appropriate I decided to see if I could manage to sneak back to the library without Ms. Northrop being the wiser. Opening the door to my room I listened, then exited and dashed into the hallway, passing Owen without slowing. Owen just smiled, his back bent slightly and his balding head shiny under the lights of the oil lamps. While Owen had slowed down and become forgetful of late, I still could see the friendly butler of my father hiding within the older man. With Father posted so long in the Indian colonies, Owen practically raised us in our teenage years or failed to, given Ms. Northrop''s view on the subject. My silent dash was almost interrupted by Northrop''s voice changing in volume, but I managed to turn the corner into the library before the Governess entered the hall outside the library. Quickly utilizing the key for the gas lamp on the wall, I tucked my dress under my legs and sat in front of the large oak desk in the library. I pulled the tome on the history of dressage closer; its weight and tight penmanship making the book a difficult chore to slog through. Flipping to any page near the middle, I hunched over slightly and pretended to read, trying desperately to calm my breathing. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡°Victoria, I will thank you not to rush about the house and skip your studies. I do not have the time to deal with your flights of fancy. Your sister is soon to be wed, and she is still failing to make many important decisions,¡± said Ms. Northrop as she entered the library, seemingly uncaring of my apparent studying. ¡°I am studying Ms. Northrop, and I will have you know, I find your accusation distasteful,¡± I said with my most prim and proper voice. Frowning, Ms. Northrop marched across the library, her light blue dress swishing and emphasizing the sounds of her hard shoes on the wooden flooring. Stopping before me, she smiled tightly then pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped a bit of cookie crumb from my lips. I couldn¡¯t help but frown at both the evidence of my guilt as well as the way she treated me like a child. Yes, I was sometimes childish, I knew it, but I was sixteen, and capable of studying at my own pace without being watched and brooded over. ¡°Now, I can¡¯t distract myself with your antics. Your father wishes for this wedding to go forward and your sister has no one else to stand for her in her mother''s place. I will be focusing on her needs, and I do not have the time to deal with your games. For your sister¡¯s sake, behave, please,¡± Ms. Northrop asked, her voice becoming more mothering and sweet by the end. She wasn¡¯t fooling me. While she could sound sweet and kind, it was no more than her skills in acting. I had watched her over months slowly whittle away at the household¡¯s staff. Instead of ten people caring for the summer mansion and another ten for the London home, the two locations had a workforce of six spread between them. Her sarcastic comments and vile treatment had cost us butlers, cooks, and maids. Poor Emma was working as both Head Maid and Cook alone; how she planned to prepare such a large meal for the wedding was beyond me. While the wedding was small and ¡®intimate,¡¯ rushed because of the financial struggles of Robert''s family, it was still going to seat more than twenty guests from his family alone. The real tragedy was that Father would not be here; Annie was instead to be given away by Robert¡¯s Uncle. Colonel Markus Collingwood was a dear friend of the family, loved by both of us, but he still wasn¡¯t Father. Staring me down as if waiting for a response, Ms. Northrop waited for an uncomfortable time before turning with a swish of her dress and leaving the library. The worst part of Northrop¡¯s lessons was how remote they were. I wasn¡¯t to learn about dressage, no, I was to learn about the history of dressage. I didn¡¯t learn natural philosophy, no, I was to learn about the people involved in the study thereof. It was always one step removed from the exciting bits. I learned the history of Nobility, but never the stories of the battles they fought in. Unlike Father¡¯s or the Colonel¡¯s stories, those focused almost solely on the action. I tried to return myself to my studies, but my attention was drawn to the window and the courtyard outside. The sound of a horse and the Colonel¡¯s customary booming voice had me flying from my seat and out of the library. Flinging myself through the hallways and to the entranceway, I threw back the large double doors and myself down the stone stairs. My mansion slippers crunched along the crushed stone courtyard for the few paces needed until I could toss my arms around the Colonel. I snugged my face under his chin, his right arm holding his sword cane to the side while he roared his usual laugh of greeting. ¡°Oh, Victoria my girl, you¡¯re growing. Soon your hugs will knock this old man down!¡± he roared with his usual bellow. His hearing was nearly gone with his many years leading the cannon division under Father which left him as a loud and boisterous man. A limp from a stray musket round and hearing loss were his only real injuries from his military service. He would often joke that he was glad for the leg wound since it gave him his ¡®wife,¡¯ ¡®Eloise,¡¯ the sword cane Father presented to him upon retirement. ¡°What are you doing here Colonel? I thought you and Robert wouldn¡¯t be here until tomorrow? Isn¡¯t Robert afraid of the ¡®impropriety¡¯?¡± I asked while hanging off Colonel Markus Collingwood, watching what Robert was pulling from the top of the carriage. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here. With Ms. Northrop and me as chaperones, no one could claim any such thing. It¡¯s not like this mansion isn¡¯t large enough for a whole brigade of us with room to spare, we never need even rub elbows with such a bunking!¡± When Robert pulled down from the carriage a metal frame and then two wooden wheels, one with a set of peddles and the other without, I gasped in delight. Robert just smiled as he continued to pull down trunks and other baggage. Rufus, the son of our stablemaster, was directed to the frame and wooden wheels and told to place them in the barn. Phillip, Rufus¡¯s father, climbed up on the carriage and led the horses into the barn. I was almost unable to contain myself at the sight of the wooden frame and the two large metal wheels. I had heard stories of the newer version of the device but had been afraid I would never see one, but as usual, Robert delighted in everything technical and had procured one for demonstration. ¡°Is that the French style Velocipede? You know it has been nicknamed as the ¡®boneshaker¡¯! Please, can I ride it? Please!¡± I wheedled. Robert smiled at me, his arms full of a luggage trunk. Before he could promise me a try at the new style bicycle, my hopes were dashed by Ms. Northrop. ¡°Heavens no! That device is most unladylike. It would be one thing if it were one of the four-wheeled devices, those can be used in a most lady-like manner, but a dandy-horse? No.¡± While the Colonel made small talk with Ms. Northrop, and Robert carried his and his uncle''s luggage inside, I stood there and gazed forlornly at the barn. It would be wonderful to watch his demonstration with the new conveyance, but I itched to ride it myself. I knew it wouldn¡¯t be a comfortable ride, the nickname of ¡®boneshaker¡¯ made sense with hard wooden wheels and little suspension, but the very nature of it would make it an adventure. I could almost feel the wind through my hair as I flew around the courtyard in my mind. When Rufus placed the frame against one of the stalls inside the barn, just within view, I decided. I would wait until everyone was distracted inside the house, then I would try my hand at riding the velocipede. Chapter 2 Nearly instantly my plans to ride the bicycle were thwarted. Everyone withdrew to the drawing room, taking tea and some of the cookies I had stolen earlier. Emma must have heard the arrivals, figured out that everyone would need a moment of relaxation after the trip, and prepared the tea for that precise reason. That was Emma, prompt, prepared, and filled with forethought. If I didn¡¯t love her to death, it would drive me insane. I noticed that Ms. Northrop marked the prepared tea as well, she had probably been waiting to berate Emma. It seemed that lately, she was waiting to swoop in and harangue any of the servants at any moment. If Father were here that would never be allowed, but then, if Father were here many things would be different. Robert and Annie had been preparing to wed for years, but Roberts medical studies had been a higher priority up till now. Combined with Fathers absence, and other issues, they would have been happy to remain unwed for years still. Everyone settled down for a spot of tea, while mine was quaffed the moment attention had drifted away; I was prepared to exit the conversation as soon as possible. My plans hadn¡¯t counted on Annie leaving her room. Entering the room, she performed according to her training. Smiling with her head held high she paused at the entrance to the lounge before stepping into the room. The Colonel, of course, pulled himself to his feet without hesitation, bowing at the waist stiffly, his hand held white gripped on his beloved cane. Even while he strained to bend at so low an angle, he made every appearance that it was a simple maneuver. Annie managed to smile at his action even as small lines crinkled at the edges of her eyes. I could tell she knew what the act had cost the Colonel in pain, but then, the man had fought a battle with a bullet in his leg, he was familiar with both suffering and duty. Requesting he not bow to save him the pain, was something no one in the room would do. He had his pride and his honor, and we all cherished him for it. Robert, on the other hand, shot to attention at Annie''s entrance, his bow deep and florid. The returning gentle head bob hid the slight upturn of her smile as well as the continuing frown hidden in her eyes. I was not too fond of the way she would hide behind the formal rules and etiquette. When Father told us he had been requested by the Queen to return to India, she had followed all the politeness required. She had smiled, she had said the opinion Father had expected, but she couldn¡¯t keep the tears from falling. I could see the sadness even now, her smile being far less an indicator of her feelings than her eyes. After the usual pleasantries about the trip -good weather, nice to be free of the London smog, and so on- the Colonel explained their early arrival before the rest of the party. Not that it was such an arduous trip as all that, merely a couple of days by carriage. He first presented his congratulation card for Annie, while Robert politely slid the bag of gifts to Ms. Northrop. The requirement to gift the servants of your host had been one etiquette requirement I had always thought appropriate. I would have to try and peek at the contents later, maybe see what Robert had set aside for Emma. The Colonel, in his usual boisterous and roundabout manner, explained that the two were here to greet us privately before the rest descended upon us as well as to assist in any preparations which might be necessary. The last said politely, and I knew the two had no ill will, but Ms. Northrop was finding it difficult to contain her sour look at the pronouncement of the family requiring assistance. If she hadn¡¯t fired so many servants, something that was supposed to be Owen¡¯s job, not hers, then it wouldn¡¯t be necessary. When I made such faces with guests she would run me through polite conversation behavior later; somehow I didn¡¯t think she would be forced to do the same. I wanted to go outside. I could practically hear the call of the bike. I wanted to see how the frame worked and connected to the wheels. Was the structure like the older models, made from cast iron with the wheels bolted directly to the frame? Could it reach half the speed of a horse with a peddle configuration? What would it feel like to go that fast by my efforts alone? I had been so distracted that I had missed Emma¡¯s entrance, but the men rising roused me from my daydreams. ¡°A light luncheon has been prepared in the dining room. We have a light vegetable soup with cucumber sandwiches if there is something else you would like I would be happy to oblige,¡± Emma said as she avoided eye contact. Robert nodded to Emma as he offered his arm to my sister, but his eyes never left Emma¡¯s retreating form. The Colonel, of course, led Ms. Northrop into the dining room. I was tempted to sneak away, but there was no way that my absence from lunch would be missed. After lunch, though it was likely that our guests would require light entertainment like cards or such, I would be able to escape. A quick trip for my adventuring clothes, a little time spent attaching the wheels, and I would be off and up and down the front drive. As a bonus, the games room was an internal room and had no windows. If there had been more men present then the plan would have never worked, they would have retired to the study leaving the ladies together. While lunch was light and enjoyable, there was a sour note to the whole affair. Twice during lunch, Owen entered the dining room then exited again to retrieve food which had not been requested. While no one commented on the head butlers slip up, they had all noticed it. Annie was barely able to keep herself from crying, and even Robert looked uncomfortable. He had spent nearly as much time around Owen as a boy as my sister, and I had. The only one who could spend any time caring for him lately was Emma. As much as the social strata separated us from our childhood friend, it also allowed her to care for Owen without interference. ¡°A toast,¡± the colonel said while raising his teacup in a self-deprecating manner, ¡°to the joining of our two families. I¡¯ve considered you ladies like daughters for many years, and I¡¯m glad that soon Annie will be a Collingwood.¡± With a few murmurs of agreement, everyone sipped at their tea. Robert''s cup hid his frown, but it was still clear to anyone who knew him. Which of course meant Ms. Northrop missed it entirely. Turning to Robert, she queried, ¡°Tell me, Mr. Collingwood, what are your plans for after your marriage? Will you be taking up residence within the Blythe estate or will Ms. Blythe be moving to the Collingwood home? Given the current distastefulness and your studies that is.¡± If a mouse had decided to run through the attic, I would be afraid that everyone would be able to hear it at that moment. To discuss finances, even so obliquely, at a luncheon was crass beyond words. To have a woman initiate such a conversation was worse, but to do so in such a direct and frankly offensive way? Crass. I could have run through the room in adventuring pants and not generate the same level of silence. Our Governess was technically only included in the luncheon as a pairing for the Colonel. Ms. Northrop''s social standing was no higher than Emma''s, and she would never have asked such impertinent questions. Gamely, Robert responded, ¡°Hmm, I do believe that Annie would prefer to stay with her sister for the time being. I will be finished studying at Oxford within the year, and then I will be setting up a practice.¡± At that, Ms. Northrop relaxed in her seat, and the conversation continued, but I couldn¡¯t get the moment out of my mind. I was sure none there would talk of it, the marriage was in the best interest of the Collingwood family, but her rude behavior was so very unlike the Governess. Annie seemed to find her fiance¡¯s response to her liking as well. My sister gave a small tight smile to me and then a subtle nod to Robert in thanks. No one missed this little exchange, but it was ignored for further polite conversation. After finishing our lunch repast, the men rose to go to the game room. Both men wore evening black so did not need to change but my sister, Ms. Northrop, and I could not say the same. Emma¡¯s timing was perfect as ever, planned and meticulous. There was not a second where she was alone with Robert, nor a moment where he could greet her as she crossed his path. The dance of avoidance was so perfect it almost appeared as if by chance, except for Roberts frown and Emma¡¯s careful blank-faced sadness. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! My heart ached to see my family and friends so hurt, but there was little which could be done about it. I had told Annie that she should refuse to go through with the marriage, but she would hear nothing of it. Where I had found my taste for adventure from Father¡¯s military stories, she had found her sense of Honor. Where I had found a resolve to explore the world, she had found the shackles for her own life within Father¡¯s wishes. Robert was just the same; his family came before all, the two of them were the same. Such similarities made them stalwart friends. Emma had a different sense of honor, one tempered by practicality, entirely unlike the other two. While Annie and Ms. Northrop softly discussed which dress to change into before returning to the game room with the men, I slowed to let the other two drift ahead. If the Governess failed to notice my absence then on my return I could claim to be returning to my reading. Humorously enough, I would be changing just as the others were. My outfit would be unlikely to meet Ms. Northrop¡¯s approval though. Softly I closed the wooden door to my room and crossed the antique floor rug to my wardrobe. With little care I ripped off my pre-luncheon dress, my dark tresses caught momentarily within the lace of the dress. The sting of the pulled hair was oddly pleasing when compared to the mild numbness of my days. Yanking on my pants first, I checked to be sure the thick black belt was sitting at the proper length. I had measured, and cut, and trimmed, but I had no chance actually to assemble the outfit in its fullness. The white dress shirt was buttoned up quickly, the unfamiliar arrangement of buttons on the opposite side made the process awkward. An unladylike snort of amusement burst from my lips as I fumbled the alignment badly enough that I had to unbutton and rebutton the last few. Topping the outfit was a thick folded cap, oversized and almost ridiculous with my long curls hanging behind. The last item was my riding boots, high ankled and low soled. With a kick, I knocked my discarded dress across the floor in a careless manner. Marching down the hallway and the backway, found me exiting the mansion on the far side from the barn. My exit left me with a short trip in the shadow of the building to the stable area. I listened, but I didn¡¯t hear either Rufus or Philip. Odds were that Philip had decided to get some of the grounds cleaned up and was employing Rufus for it as well. I felt guilty over that. Philip was not a groundskeeper; he had been hired to manage the horses. Father would have never allowed such a disruption of the servants as Ms. Northrop had caused, but Father wasn¡¯t here, and she was. Philip was probably willing to suffer the indignity to avoid being fired. Jobs were scarce at the moment, at least jobs which included room and board for a man and his son. Arranged with two main areas, one side for the storage of carriages and the other outfitted with stalls, the stables was often used as a place to store large and bulky items. It was likely that the bike would be in one of the empty stalls in the back. The horse stall was probably not the best place to store such a device, but it was a massive heavy construction of wrought iron and wooden carriage wheels. Poor Robert had barely been able to lower each piece down from the roof of the carriage with both hands, and the man was in excellent shape. Little Rufus had struggled when moving it and had stopped to rest more than once. The last stall had the heavy metal frame and wheels. Struggling, sweat all ready breaking out on my face, I managed to drag the frame from the hay. Hauling on the frame, I lifted the nearly ninety kilograms wrought iron structure upright. Inside the stall, I found the front wheel, the one with the peddles, and pulled it out and arranged it next to the frame. The front half of the frame would need to be lifted and then set down on the wheel before the locking nut applied, then the process would have to be repeated for the rear wheel. The direct wood to metal construction without a spring, like in a carriage, was what gave the bicycle its signature nickname. Returning to the stall, I heard the clatter of the frame falling and the crunch of breaking wood. The sound of the breaking device, a conveyance that was expensive and was likely purchased solely for my amusement, had me frozen in horror. My eagerness had caused the velocipede to break. Hopefully it was just the wheel, and a cooper could fix it, but either way, it would be an expensive proposition that was entirely my fault. Before I could exit the stall to check, I heard the crunch of boots. ¡°Rufus! Look at it! You were told to put that fool device away!¡± The sound of Philip berating his son had me ducking down in the stall. The two had returned just in time to notice the broken bicycle, leaving me hiding in shame in the stall. I couldn¡¯t keep hiding here, it wasn¡¯t Rufus¡¯ fault, and I wouldn¡¯t let Ms. Northrop remove Philip for my actions, but my shame had me hesitating. The sound of a slap propelled me out of the stall and between Philip and Rufus. ¡°Wait, he didn¡¯t do anything; it was my fault. I¡¯m sorry!¡± I said. Philip was red-faced, his large hands clenched in anger, while he backed away. His eyes raked over my clothing, his eyes locked for longer than was appropriate to my pant covered legs. When I turned to check Rufus, his eyes were averted, but his pointed avoidance of looking at me made me aware that my rash protection of the child had left my rear directly in his face. Being alone with a man, even with his son present, especially in such compromising clothing, had me flushed red in embarrassment. Worse, I would have to explain to Robert what had happened and entreat him to protect Philip from any reprisals from Ms. Northrop. Everything would be much easier if Robert could be enlisted to handle Father''s financials, preferably with Ms. Northrop no longer employed, but his studies and his families financial issues made that unpalatable. ¡°Excuse me Ms...I didn¡¯t know that you were¡­uh. That is, me and Rufus here will uh,¡± said Philip Nye as he tried to find the polite response to the situation. One which did not have him or his son staring at his employer¡¯s scandalously dressed daughter. ¡°I¡¯ll go tell Robert that I have accidentally damaged his property. I will make it clear that Rufus had nothing to do with my actions. Excuse me,¡± I said. Annie had an overdose of honor and responsibility, but I didn''t lack it. I just tried to temper it with adventure and fun. This situation though, I had to own up to this. Likely, Robert would be annoyed but forgiving, the bicycle being mostly an exhibition to entertain me in the first place. Annie would be upset, probably worse than the situation warranted, but it would be a safe way to let out some of her sadness. Ms. Northrop though, she would use this mistake in every diatribe from here out. Kicking a few of the larger stones on the walk to the mansion I tried not to stomp. Pulling open the massive mansion door I cringe when I noticed Owen at the foot of the stairs giving me a curious look. ¡°Hmm, an interesting clothing choice,¡± he said before he smiled and continued down the hall. I planned to change out of my adventure clothes and into ¡®appropriate¡¯ stable clothes which would avoid at least one diatribe. Before I reached my room, with my hand in the air reaching for the door handle, the world stuttered and stopped. It was as if the air became a cage and locked me in place. It was more than just the air, my muscle locked up, my eyes remained focused ahead, and the breath in my lungs became stone. Even my heart lay silent in my chest. Panicking I strained my muscles to move but nothing shifted even minutely. The dust suspended in the air, shining in a stray shaft of light, remained perfectly frozen. While I was in that world of a perfectly frozen moment, a large blue box with a square evenly spaced writing, appeared in front of me. Chapter 3 Everything I was screamed that I should be dying, my heart didn¡¯t beat, my lungs didn¡¯t pump air, and the whole world was silent. The only thing I had to focus on beyond my frozen existence was the box of text hovering in front of my eyes.
This simulation has been sold to eX-Tre Entertainment and will become the basis for ¡®Age of Victoria!¡¯, an old school immersive RPG set in the Victorian Age upon a backdrop of a magical apocalypse and the return of the Old Ones. The Old Ones have found a crack within the Veil. Magic has returned to earth, and the collective unconscious has awoken. Unfiltered and unconstrained magic has engulfed the land, giving rise to Monsters of both Creatures and Men. Can you survive the horrors of the Old Ones? As an NPC within the beginning of ¡®Age of Victoria,¡¯ you will be given limited options of freedom and advancement. Your initial class has been selected by the Overmind AI as ¡®Warrior¡¯ due to emotional or significant actions taken within the last twenty-four hours. Your action was: Protecting NPC ¡®Rufus Nye¡¯ by drawing Agro. Warrior¡¯s are masters of armor and weapons, skilled at protecting their team members and providing defensive buffs through war-cries. The signature skill of the warrior is [Taunt] and its derivatives. Warriors have no limitation on their weapons or armor. Warriors can wear cloth, leather, chain, or plate armor, though usually, they wear only the most massive and durable of plate armor. Warriors are not restricted in weapon selection. Warriors may use the smallest dirk to the greatest two-handed sword. Warriors can learn all defensive skills. Warriors do not have mana. Instead, they have Rage, a resource which rises as the warrior takes or delivers damage. Warriors do not gain many of the damage increasing skills of other melee classes. The signature DPS advantage for warriors is the ability to wield a Two-Handed weapon in the primary weapon slot while also wielding a one-handed weapon or shield in the secondary weapon slot. Warriors are suggested to work with groups. Warriors are rated as ¡®Weak¡¯ soloers. Currently, ¡®Victoria Marrie Blythe¡¯ has been set as a Zone-Locked Combat NPC. Zone-Locked NPCs are restricted from leaving their zone and are predominantly responsible for Quests and Stores. Zone-Locked NPC''s have ten days to reach level ten to remove the zone lock restriction. Zone-Locked NPCs have a slow respawn rate, and if the Old Ones encroach on that zone, they no longer respawn. After the tutorial, the event ¡®The Great Cleansing¡¯ will start, any NPC who fails to survive the event will be permanently deleted.
Reading the text was odd. I couldn¡¯t move my eyes, but my vision was focused on the next word that I was trying to understand. It was like trying to focus on a bit of text caused it to shift to be in the center of my vision. I had never believed the women who had claimed to suffer from hysteria, the idea of something being so upsetting that it would cause them to scream and nash at the teeth and faint was laughable, but if I could move at this moment, I would be diagnosed with hysteria in a second. Was the world ending? Was the apocalypse at hand? I was no longer a minor noble but was now a warrior? What did that even mean? The last line though was chilling, I didn¡¯t know what ''deleted'' meant but not surviving was very clear. Before I could work myself into a tizzy, a new box appeared that was much like the previous one. This box was titled ¡®tutorial,¡¯ while the previous was untitled.
In the upper left-hand corner of your vision, three bars should exist. The top red bar is your health when it reaches zero from injury or spells, you die.
Sure enough, three bars appeared. The topmost bar was red and full, inside the bar of red was two numbers with a divider between them; sixty-five and sixty-five. Below that was another bar, but this one had five odd bubbles inside it, none of them were full, and this bar had no numbers. The final bar was yellow and said one-hundred percent.
The second bar is your Rage Meter. Each bubble is a Mark of Rage which a warrior can use for their skills. A Warrior increases their Rage through taking or delivering damage, with skills a warrior can increase the number of Marks of Rage they can have. Currently, you can have a maximum of five Marks of Rage.
The fact that the tutorial felt the need to inform me that I could have only a maximum of five marks was infuriating, something I could easily see with my own eyes. It felt like whoever was writing the text was looking down on me. They were like every tutor who thought that women did not deserve to learn particular subjects, the things I was most eager to learn. Whoever wrote that text would probably be good friends with Ms. Northrop.
The final bar is your stamina. During a battle, stamina regenerates at a slow rate while attacking and a faster pace while defending. Outside of combat, stamina will regenerate at high speed. Running and walking have no stamina cost. Non-standard movements will all experience a stamina cost: swimming, crawling, jumping, climbing, crouch-walking, etc.
That was an intriguing message. The idea of being able to run as long as I wanted without feeling tired was interesting, that is if this entire thing was not a stress-induced hallucination. If this was an apocalypse, and especially one with monsters, then being able to run non-stop without being tired was a good thing. A moment after I finished the message in the textbox something new floated into view in the upper right-hand corner of my sight. Trying to look at it caused it to swing out into my vision further and ignoring it caused it to swing back above. The same happened with the three bars, something I hadn¡¯t noticed before.
In the upper right-hand corner of your vision are a compass and minimap. Quest markers, areas you have explored and areas of interest will be displayed in this area once you visited them.
The circle of the minimap looked useful. There was a bronze looking loop, marked with an arrow which was pointing off to the North-West, while inside the loop was an image of the layout of the mansion as if seen from the sky. In the very center of the minimap was a blue dot which I thought was supposed to represent me. Far to the North-East on the minimap, almost to the edge of it, was a marker of a cave centered in the clearing in the woods.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
Now think ¡®character¡¯ to display the character screen.
I was going crazy. I had to be. The content of one''s soul and mind was inviolate, yet this message wanted me to think something and command it. The chances of me merely being insane and talking to myself, most likely reduced to paroxysms of tears and gibbering were rising. When I finally broke down and tried to think ¡®character¡¯ a new window appeared before me. It had a little model of my body, rotating within my view, and there were slots for each item I was wearing. The knowledge that the creator of this text could see down to my underclothes and likely beyond left me faint. The tutorial didn¡¯t care how I felt. It waited until I had overcome whatever had delayed me, then it continued. It went on to show me how to open my inventory, assign stat¡¯s (giving only the most basic of descriptions), how to join groups, and send chat messages. It went on and on, but finally, the messages ended. I wanted to take a deep breath, but I was still locked in place. To my horror, everything around me started to fade away. The darkness slipped across, from the edge of my vision until only the smallest dot of light was at the center of my view, and then, it was gone. The return of the light caused me to blink wildly in confusion before I realized I could blink. More than blink, I could breathe and move and look around. The ground was a flat stone, grey without any distinguishing feature. The sky above me was black, but where I stood was in a circle of light which seemed to cut off at thirty feet leaving a ring of light surrounded by the dark. But the nightmare was not over. The ¡®quest window¡¯ opened at that moment and filled in with a simple objective, ¡®finish fight tutorial.¡¯ After I read the objective, a bright flash of light covered my body. When the light faded away, I wore a chest plate and was holding a large sword and shield. A chest plate like this would have cost a fortune and been worn only by the strongest of men, but for some reason, I felt comfortable, the armor felt light and easy to move in. Swishing the sword back and forth I could tell that I would be able to wield it effortlessly. I had no skill, but the sword itself felt less like a five-foot-long bar of steel and instead like an umbrella or cane. That is when the squeaking behind me drove me out of my distraction. Whipping around I crouched slightly, pulling the large plate of the shield in front of my body with the sword held up right next to my chest. I had no experience with the sword, but I had fantasized about being a dashing knight more than once. My favorite daydream was saving a princess from a dragon, then seeing her look of annoyance and outrage when her savior turned out not to be prince charming and had no interest in her and instead wanted the dragon''s gold horde. From out of the darkness a giant black rat slunk into the light. With a head the size of a grapefruit and long black whiskers, the rat¡¯s nose twitched as its beady eyes squinted at me. The claws on the rat''s paws were sharp and scratched at the rocky ground, its tail whip-like and trailing into the darkness even as the rat¡¯s body entered the light. Hissing once, the monster charged. The hiss and charge unnerved me, but I only took one step back. From there I tucked the shield in close and raised my sword slightly as I prepared to bring it down and end the rat''s life. At the last moment, the rat jumped and tried to scramble its claws along the metal of my shield and over to attack my face. My sword flew through the air, almost without any effort of my own, and the edge slammed into the side of the rat. The impact threw up a small red five which floated away from the rat. Suddenly in my mind''s eye, the combat log window appeared, my awareness being drawn to try and understand the unnatural event.
Victoria [Warrior lvl 1] slashes training_rat_1 for 5 damage.
I smiled as the recognition of my achievement scrolled away within the text, even as my vision was unhampered by the combat log window. Somehow I was reading the log, but not actually seeing it. My distraction caused me to fail to notice the rat had recovered from the injury and was prepared for another attack. The only part of my body with armor protection was my chest and what I could cover with my shield. The rat went for my neck, and it connected perfectly, its outsized incisors latching on to my throat and tearing away without a splash of blood but with my body convulsing in pain.
Traing_rat_1 critically bits Victoria [Warrior lvl 1] for 3 damage. All damage nullified during the battle tutorial.
The thought that I wouldn¡¯t die from such a wound was uplifting, but the idea that such a critical attack was only three damage and that it felt so horrible that I had feared for my life left me shaky. My distraction cost me again, the rat rushed forward and tried to bite me on the ankle. His teeth grabbed my pants and missed the flesh of my leg, a white zero floated away from the miss. Screaming in a sound of both rage and fear I retaliated, swatting the rat away with my shield.
Victoria [Warrior lvl 1] shield bashes training_rat_1 for 3 damage.
Once I found the rhythm of the fight it was over rather quickly. Another two points of damage had the rat dying shortly. Once the rat died, a golden one hundred floated away from the rat¡¯s corpse and into my body. Another golden fifty appeared from the quest window and drifted through me as well. Finally, a new objective appeared in the quest log that I needed to loot the rat. Reaching down to the rat, the brush of my hand and my intent caused a new window to appear with only rat whiskers on the rat''s corpse. When I had the intention to loot the whiskers, they appeared in my inventory, and the window vanished. That finished the final quest objective and another golden fifty filled me. My log said I needed another one thousand eight hundred experience to reach level two. Standing there, the corpse of my enemy slowly fading away, I just breathed deep. My lungs pumping air like a bellows and my heart pounding in my chest, my head covered in sweat. While the entire time, a smile spread from one side of my face to the other. While I was standing there breathing and recovering from my conquest, my body froze again, then faded away as it had before. When the light bloomed from my chest and expanded again to fill my world, I found myself frozen where I had stood before, in my adventuring clothes, with one hand reaching for the door handle of my room. With a stutter, the world continued, and screams of horror started from downstairs. Spinning around I dashed down the stairs and rushed toward the game room, the entire time a smile spread across my face. Chapter 4 The game room was paneled with dark wood and dark tones, it was one of our father¡¯s favorite places in the house. Most summers when father was home we would find him sitting in one of the giant stuffed chairs, smoking his pipe while reading some thick leather-bound tome. This and the library were the only rooms in the house that father allowed smoking, a leftover from mother¡¯s rules. The scent of the smoke had impregnated itself into the chairs, and the rugs, even the thick oak card and chess tables had a faint whiff of the thick pipe smoke. The scent reminded me of Father making this a difficult room to stay in, it was like he hid in every chair, but was nowhere to be found. Ms. Northrop was on her knees, her ankle-length dress disheveled and untucked laying around her as she screamed and hid her face in her hands. Her screams were interspersed with gasping sobs, her voice cracking in distress. The Colonel and Robert were both standing over her with careful, watchful eyes, Annie was sitting listless and confused in one of the stuffed chairs. The oddest part of the scene was not the screaming, it wasn¡¯t Annie¡¯s glazed gaze at her cupped hands, it wasn¡¯t even the Colonel¡¯s unsheathed sword. The oddest part was the words hovering over each of their head.
The Colonel Markus Collingwood
Annie Blythe
Robert Collingwood
Rebecca Northrop
As I slowly moved around the room, my gaze focused on the words, the text over each of their heads shifted and turned so that it was always directly over their head and visible to read. At one point, the words over the Colonel¡¯s head should have moved through a support pillar, but the text didn¡¯t, it remained in front of it and readable. The text was odd, but it appeared to be harmless. It was interesting that the white words over the Colonel¡¯s head had his title. Looking above I noticed that I lacked any kind of floating text which confused me. Ms. Northrop eventually stopped screaming and was reduced to whimpering and crying about the rat. ¡°It just kept biting me. It hurt, oh god, it hurt!¡± I realized that Ms. Northrop had fought a rat the same as I had. Both the Colonel and Robert seemed unsurprised which had me turning to Annie. ¡°Did you fight a rat also Annie?¡± I asked. At my question, Annie seemed to come out of her confusion and looked me in the eyes. With a slow nod, my sister held up her left hand in a cupped motion. Before I could ask her what she was doing, her eyes narrowed in concentration, and a ball of glowing flame appeared over her hand. The ball of flickering death slowly rotated above her hand, the air roiled away from the fire, but Annie remained unmoved. Smiling at me while holding the ball of flames outstretched in front of her, she closed her hand and snuffed the fire out. ¡°How did you do that Annie?¡± Robert asked, his mouth hanging open in astonishment. My sister¡¯s face was beaming as she stared at her hands and at Robert''s approach she looked up and answered, ¡°The text said I was a wizard. I¡­have spells for the elements. I just¡­knew how to throw a fireball. I wanted it burnt, and I just did it. My important event was lighting the lamps in the morning. I¡¯ve always liked to light the lamps since I was a little girl; I love the warm glow. So now¡­now I¡¯m a wizard.¡± Annie sounded both excited and concerned. I matched her concern. Seeing my sister, thin and weak, fearlessly handle a ball of fiery death with a near-manic smile of discovery had been deeply disturbing. Before I could ask further questions, Emma appeared in the door of the game room. Emma was pale and upset, but she still wore her usual reserved look. Once she noticed Robert was there and unharmed, she moved forward but stopped next to me and assessed if everyone else was alright. Emma also had the bright white text floating over her head, it was odd that everyone had the floating words except for me. When I mentioned the disconcerting difference to Robert, the following discussion became even more concerning. Everyone could see the name floating above everyone¡­except for their own text. While discussing the weird text, our voices were starting to rise, the confusion and upset being evident among us. When Owen walked in, our voices again moderated down to a lower tone. Owen had always brought a sense of calm to a room, and since his decline, no one had wanted to cause him distress by being loud or boisterous. During our discussion, the Colonel stalked around the room, his limp exacerbated by his speed and his failure to sheath his sword-cane. His movements were hypnotic, back and forth, his actions like the lion in the cage at the London fair I had seen as a girl. My staring caused a new text window to appear before me.
The Colonel Markus Collingwood Warrior - Lvl 3 This would be a difficult opponent.
The final line was in a bright yellow text. Experimenting, I focused in the same way on Ms. Northrop, and the results left me surprised.
Rebecca Northrop Rogue - Lvl 1 This would be an even fight.
The last line was given in a white text similar to the rest, but the real question was why Ms. Northrop was a rogue. ¡°Why are you a rogue?¡± I hadn¡¯t meant to ask out loud, but my question could have been a pistol shot for the sudden silence it caused. Ms. Northrop silenced her mutterings, her surprised eyes staring into my own then glancing around at everyone as they stared at her. I could tell the moment that the Colonel had figured out how to get the same information window to appear. He marched forward like an unleashed beast, his sudden grip on Ms. Northrop leaving the woman gasping as he yanked her to her feet. ¡°I¡¯m a warrior, I think of my battles every day. Annie lit lamps to become a wizard. What. Did. You. Do?¡± The rage in the Colonel¡¯s voice was unlike anything I had heard from the man I thought of as an unofficial uncle. This voice was the sound of the military man I had always known him to be. This was not the boisterous and cheerful man, the loud and jolly cheer which signified safety. This was the sound of violence made manifest. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°I¡­oh god¡­it was¡­Owen wasn¡¯t taking care of things, so I did it,¡± Rebecca said, her voice starting frightened and ending with the usual confident self-assurance in her own righteousness. ¡°So you steal from the Lieutenant-General while you were supposed to be protecting and teaching his daughters?¡± The Colonel asked as he threw Rebecca away from himself. The Colonel leaned over Rebecca, his large frame seeming to grow even larger as he hovered over the prone woman. Without warning a deep tone strummed out as if a giant bell was struck within my chest. For a moment the world hung in silence, then a new text appeared in front of me. From the edge of my vision, I could see everyone else shift or straighten, telling me that they got the new text as well.
Start of New Event - The Great Cleansing! The Veil has torn, mana has entered the world again. Collecting at points of importance to the collective unconscious, mana forms into the creatures of myth and legend. These monsters and agents of chaos have been tainted by the malignant aura of the Old Ones to act against humans and further weaken the veil. The Old Ones have focused the first tide of mana to create an initial wave of death and destruction. Will you survive the Great Cleansing? Objective: Survive three waves of monsters. Levels and numbers depend on the density of the population in the Zone. Wave 0/3 Survived.
The words ¡®Wave 0/3 Survived¡¯ flashed for a moment then shrunk to hover directly below my compass. Each of us stood silently, waiting for something to happen. The calm was broken with the sound of breaking glass and the howling coming from the entrance hallway. The Colonel lunged to the doorway, pulling me unceremoniously behind him as he strode forward. He cast a quick glance down the hall which had the sounds of screaming rising in volume. Robert grabbed one of the giant stuffed leather chairs and shoved it into the doorway while the Colonel backed up to make room, his eyes flashing around the room before he returned to staring at the door. Unconcerned with the stuffed leather chair, a warty green little man grabbed the back of the chair while nearly vaulting over the back and through the door. The green man thing landed awkwardly, one leg on the seat and the other on the armrest. In one arm he carried a crude sword with notches in two places while in the other he held a small buckler made of wood. His body was distorted, with arms too long, legs too short, head too broad, and bald with large ears. Above the monsters head was the floating text the same as everyone else.
Goblin Raider
When I focused on the monster, as I had when looking at Rebecca, an information window opened.
Goblin Raider Warrior - Lvl 1 This would be an even fight.
While I was confused trying to make sense of this new world, the Colonel stepped forward and drove his blade into the eye of the goblin. A red number fourteen popped from the goblin¡¯s head and floated away. The disgusting creature screeched then fell, but his death failed to slow his brethren. The next monster appeared much like the one before, his head slightly different in shape but generally he seemed a clone of the goblin before him. His actions also mirrored the first, grabbing the back of the chair he tried to throw himself over only to receive a slashing cut from the Colonel¡¯s sword. This time a red ten rose from the Goblin, the injury leaving no mark and seemingly wholly ignored. Before the Colonel could recover from his initial swipe, the goblin swung his own sword into the Colonel¡¯s side. Grunting the Colonel reached for his wound, but finding no injury, he roared out his anger and returned the blow to the goblin. While the goblin had caused a red three to leave the Colonel, the Colonel¡¯s return blow delivered a red eleven and death. Three more monsters attempted to climb the chair, now overloaded by corpses, but before they could vault the obstacles as the others had Robert chucked another chair at the entrance. His makeshift barricade was lodged awkwardly into the door, but it¡¯s usefulness was unlikely to last. The monsters wildly swung at the chairs, their blows leaving leather slashed, wood breaking, and bits of the cushion flying. All I could do was stand there watching as the Colonel fought as a man possessed. I was frozen in fright, entirely unlike with the giant rat. I had no weapon, no spells like Annie, and no armor. This wasn¡¯t like the ring of darkness and light where I could pretend to be someone else and act out my dreams, this was my family home, and monsters were fighting through the door to kill us. Robert looked as frightened as Annie, Rebecca, Emma, and if I was honest, as frightened as I probably looked as well. The difference was that Robert was doing something. It wasn¡¯t as helpful as the Colonel, but he was doing something. With a wild look on his face, Robert reached into his double-breasted waistcoat and pulled his Webley pistol and took aim. When Robert pulled the trigger, the gun and his hands flashed red, and the weapon fell through his hands and to the ground. Robert¡¯s mouth gaped wide, his eyes staring, his hands held out and clenched while the pistol sat on the rug. Robert repeated the action twice more while the Colonel struck at the small creatures as they pried their way through the blocked doorway. After the third time pulling the trigger and the gun falling from his hands, Robert cursed and reached for the card table which he lifted into the air and slammed into the ground until the table broke. Grasping one of the broken legs he joined his uncle at defending the doorway with heavy blows of his impromptu club. After a few more minutes of battle, the monsters were dead, most of the bodies faded while two remained. When Robert touched one of the corpses, a crude shield appeared in his hands before the body faded and disappeared. The Colonel looted the other corpse, it¡¯s body yielding a small hard leather cap. The sudden silence was loud, each of us breathing quickly in fear, the sound of our panting the only noise any of us could make. Before we could calm, the quest objective updated, the zero becoming a one. The moment dragged out, each of us looking to the others as we recognized what the change in the objective list meant. Our fears were confirmed when a roar, louder than the howls of the goblins, broke through our stillness. Live on Amazon! Age of Victoria is now live on Amazon! It''s also available to read with Kindle Unlimited. The Audiobook is currently being recorded and should be out shortly. Thank you all for reading, commenting, and pointing out my mistakes. I appreciate it. I should start posting for Traveling the Dungeon within the week. When I do start on the new story, I will link both here and at the end of RoyalRoad''s The Dungeon Traveler page so that readers can continue the journey. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Also, I''ve set up a daily deal for Digital Me and The Dungeon Traveler in celebration of the release. If you wanted one of these two books but haven''t gotten them, nows the time!! Book 2 - Traveling the Dungeon It''s here! Book 2! It''s started! Yay! :: cough cough :: I mean, I''m glad to announce the continuation of the Dungeon Traveler (Dungeon Travels 1) in Traveling the Dungeon (Dungeon Travels 2). So continues the tale of the traveling dungeon, Dale, Coldona''s [High Priest], or as Denda likes to think of him ''that stone guy who helped me get married.'' The synopsis for the story is a bit bland, I plan to work on that, but for now, it will do. I''ve got four chapters finished so far, and the next three on my Patreon page. I''ve also got my new website up and running www.AlstonSleet.com, or you can reach me at [email protected]. I''ve also got a Patreon page which should be linked here I think.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. If you liked my latest book, Age of Victoria, could you give it a review or rating on Amazon, it would help me out. A single one-star vote can genuinely wreak havoc with your rating! Thanks for reading!