《Dawn of the Realms: Promised Daughter》 Chapter 1 - "Scattered Dreamers" P r o m i s e s will be kept, fair maiden. The Realm remembers. Deeds done, words said. There will be a reckoning, and the price will be paid for all. The Daughter Will Abide. Alkataia opened her eyes, and realized her daughter was not beside her. She also realized the bed was not her own, and leapt from it. She spun around wildly, trying to discover where she was, who had kidnapped, what was going on. Within moments, she recognized the room, and gasped. She had been playing Dawn of the Realms with her daughter since the earliest days of the beta, and for that entire time they had used but a single inn. She was familiar with the vivid yellow drapes, and the canopy bed, and the thick sun-drenched rug which was set in the center of the room. What she hadn¡¯t previously understood was the smooth sensation of the silk sheets, or even the supreme softness of the feather stuffed bed. She hadn¡¯t smelled the fresh bread from the bakery next door, or the subtle scents of the ever-present flowers of the town. She hadn¡¯t heard the distant calls of the markets, of the gentle noises of the neighbors leaving their rooms. She¡¯d seen the drapes and the rug, but she hadn¡¯t realized how much depth there were to those objects, hadn¡¯t noticed the amount of detail given to them. In short, while she had seen the room through her monitor at home, she had never before stood within it, on her own two feet, seen it with her eyes, heard it with her ears, touched it with her hands. Only it wasn¡¯t her eyes, or hands, or body at all. She stared at her hands, unblinking, uncertain. It moved as she willed it, turning it back and forth. But it was not her hand. Her skin was darker than that, her nails less perfectly manicured, her skin more rough. These were the hands of a doll, untouched and unblemished by the world. She strode forward to the window, and with a bit of work, was able to catch a glimpse of herself by reflection. It was not the body she had spent thirty two years living in. It was the body she had spent seven months playing as, day after day. It was the body of the warrior-bard Alkataia, fully realized, eyes widening in shock. She reached one hand over to the other, and pinched herself as hard as she could. She winced with the pain, and at the top of her vision, a message appeared. 1 damage. And she realized that, though she couldn¡¯t explain how it had happened, she had awoken within the game. In the same way she had for the past six years, her first thought was of her daughter. If she was in the game, was she as well? No sooner had the thought occurred than her hands moved to obey. Quickly and easily, as if she¡¯d performed the motion a thousand times, they gestured and a menu appeared. Just as quickly, she tapped the Friend List, and there it was. Fire Lily Online Her blood was a river of frozen flame. With trembling hands, she reached out to tap the message icon. ~E R R O R~ The Princess awoke from a terrible Nightmare, From which she had been unable to escape. The King was gone, And the Queen was withdrawn, And all the Lands did quake. She shook her head, eyes swimming, uncertain what she¡¯d heard. It was as if she¡¯d heard something, entirely without her ears being involved at all, except it was more like half remembering something she¡¯d heard long ago, and was uncertain if she was recalling it properly. It didn¡¯t matter now. She had to find her daughter. So she set out. She stepped from her room, closing the door behind her only out of a lifetime of ingrained habit. Everything around her was as she remembered from the game. The small stone walkway, leading to her cabin, one twelve set in a semicircle around the home of the one who owned them all. The NPC was named Gavant, and he always handed her daughter a flower from the garden when they passed by. That, and called her ¡°the sweetest lily¡±. The first time she¡¯d heard that line of dialogue she¡¯d shivered, and hadn¡¯t been able to sleep that night. He wasn¡¯t ambling about at the moment, so there was no one to notice her as she stepped onto the main thoroughfare of the town of Yndril, such as it was. Yndril was one of the least populated Shards in the Realms, as there were no particularly strong monsters nearby, or adventurous quests, or indeed anything that most players came to an MMO. Instead, it seemed to be something of a tech demo. Dawn of the Realms had been heavily marketed based upon an animation engine built for perfect verisimilitude, and Yndril featured in much of the marketing. The eternally-blooming trees swayed in an equally eternal calm wind, which also ruffled the endless fields of flowers which swallowed the town whole. Birds flew overhead, and a dizzying variety of butterflies flittered from flower to flower. Even the NPCs in the town did nothing to betray their digital nature. Extensive routines and dialogue options seem to have been programmed into them, such that they were always moving, and had something new to say.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. She¡¯d been in town long enough to glimpse the edges of the realism, the limited nature of the dialogue trees themselves such that eventually there was nothing else left to say to the ones around you other than a quick ¡°good day¡±, but it was still the most fully realized digital environment she¡¯d ever played in. When she¡¯d played at her desktop, watching the game through her monitor was more like watching another world through a convenient camera that just so happened to be following someone through the world. Now that she was within the world, the sensation was even more overwhelming. Even as she wandered the single brick road that cut through the town, even as she thought and thought, she couldn¡¯t help but to feel she was seeing the world that had been hidden within sight all along. The bouquet of colors and smells, the sensation of the breeze, every minor miracle around her was nothing more than a distraction. She had to find her daughter, her sweet Lily. She was all she had left. She had briefly considered that she was still only dreaming, but she had never been any good at lying to herself. Her husband had called it her greatest strength. She¡¯d called it her curse. No, if she had truly lost her mind, then there was no point on dwelling on it. Instead, she would focus on her anchor, who sacred trust. If she was in the game, and the game somehow insisted her daughter was online, then she was online. Then she wondered if she had to be online. Instinctively her hand reached out, and the menu appeared once more in a burst of starlight. The Logout button blazed in her vision, and a moment later she was awake in her own bed. The clock told her it was just after three. Lily was there beside her. She knew she should have moved her back to her own bed by now, and she told herself she was doing it because Lily wanted it, but she knew the truth was it was still what she wanted. It comforted her, to wake up and have her near, to know she was still there. To find someone was. She had the nightmare at least twice a week. She¡¯d wake up uneasily, sensing something was wrong, even as the bedroom was bathed in the red and blue lights from outside. She¡¯d realize she was alone in bed, and her heart would freeze as she heard the knock on the door. She rise up, throwing on her robe, racing to the door. She was already crying, because she wasn¡¯t the sort to lie to herself. She couldn¡¯t say, maybe it was one of his friends, and they¡¯re here to get someone for him. She couldn¡¯t say, maybe he¡¯s just hurt. She couldn¡¯t say, maybe it¡¯s the wrong house. She was already sobbing when she opened the door, and in the dream the police officers just stood there and stared as the tears fought their way out. It helped, when she woke up, and Lily was there. And sometimes it helped Lily, through whatever nightmares woke her. Susanne woke from the game, and Lily was there. She breathed deep, and shook her daughter. For a few awful seconds nothing happened, and she thought there was something wrong, then her daughter stirred. Her voice was groggy, and muffled. ¡°Mom?¡± She breathed out. ¡°Nevermind. Go back to sleep.¡± She wasn¡¯t even sure if Lily heard her. She was already out again. Awake in her bedroom, it was much harder to believe it had been real. What was undeniable in the moment was unbelievable here in the next, and she was unable to reconcile the two. Of course, she could turn on the computer and check. See if Lily¡¯s icon was there, see if her character was still there in the middle of the road where she¡¯d left her. She didn¡¯t do that, though. She was caught between what her senses knew and what her head told her. So she sat there in bed the rest of the night, not sleeping, just staring at her daughter. It was a long night. In the morning, she decided that if she was already up, she may as well make something of it. She left the bed slowly, careful not to wake her daughter, and moved to the kitchen. She made pancakes, and bacon, and toast. She cooked eggs, and oatmeal, cut up bananas. She cooked it all, and only realized when she heard her daughter beginning to move that she had cooked too much. Even too much for three. She hid most of it in the oven before she set Lily to getting ready for school. Her daughter smiled when she kissed her forehead, and rolled around giggling. ¡°Good morning, Lily,¡± she said, as if nothing was different. ¡°Shalom,¡± answered her daughter. Susanne froze. They weren¡¯t Jewish, nor did her daughter have any Jewish friends to her knowledge. She didn¡¯t freeze because she used that word. She froze because, to her knowledge, her daughter had never heard it before. Certainly, before this morning, she¡¯d never used it. Her daughter didn¡¯t seem to realize her mother¡¯s confusion. She was already up and bounding to the bathroom, eager to get ready before breakfast. Susanne tried to dismiss her worries. She must have heard it at school, that¡¯s all. She was sitting at the table, drinking her second cup of coffee as she stared in the distance past her untouched food, when Lily arrived, backpack in tow. She immediately dug into the pancakes, after drowning them in the syrup. ¡°Anything big today?¡± asked Suzanne, mind racing. ¡°I think we¡¯re starting a new unit in history,¡± allowed her daughter, in between mouthfuls of pancakes. Suzanne smiled, answer in sight. ¡°Jewish history, maybe?¡± Her daughter just looked puzzled. ¡°That¡¯s religious stuff, right? No, we¡¯re doing Egypt! Pyramids, mummies, everything!¡± She didn¡¯t say anything else until her daughter had put down her fork, and grabbed her bookbag. Lily grabbed her tightly. ¡°Bye mom!¡± ¡°Bye, little one.¡± Then, ¡°Before you go, where¡¯d you learn that word you used this morning?¡± Lily was already half out the door, but paused. ¡°Which one?¡± Suzanne swallowed. ¡°Shalom.¡± Then Lily laughed. ¡°Just a word I learned in my dream, is all. It was¡­¡± Then the bus horn announced its arrival. ¡°Sorry, gotta go! Bye mom!¡± Then Lily was out the door, and gone. Suzanne watched her go, heart pounding, though she didn¡¯t know why. She was restless all day, and knew she¡¯d have to ask her daughter about it when she got home. She tried to nap, exhausted from her restless night, but she could only toss and turn on her bed. At some point, she quietly slipped into a nightmare. She knew then she must have fallen asleep, for the familiar patterns of red and blue light were coming in through the window. But this time, it was still light out. This time, she didn¡¯t need to put on her robe because she was still dressed. This time, she was having the nightmare while still awake. This time, she didn¡¯t sob. She screamed. Chapter 2 - "Bright Lad" Where is the girl¡¯s father? ¡°Dead.¡± Do you have any estranged family that might be after her? ¡°No.¡± Has she been speaking to anyone online that may have tried to take her? ¡°We play online games, but always together. I¡¯d know if she was speaking to anyone else.¡± On and on the questions went. The facts of the case were simple. At approximately 1:28 PM, Lily had asked to go the restroom. Her teacher had given her permission, though asked her to hurry back as they¡¯d be starting a new lesson soon. Five minutes later, when Lily was still not back, Mrs. Stephenson asked another student, one Haley Brown, to go and make sure she was alright. Two minutes after that, Haley returned and reported that she¡¯d been unable to find Lily. She¡¯d even walked down the hall to the other bathroom, only to find nothing. Within a minute after that, the school had gone into lockdown. And within a half hour of that, the police had arrived at her door. They were there for hours, asking questions, checking the house, looking for any hint of what could possibly have happened. Then they were gone, with only a single car left on the street outside, and she was fully alone in her house. It was silent and heavy. She realized she was in the kitchen, cooking. At some point she had pattied the hamburger meat she set out that morning, and she was cooking it on the stovetop. When she was done, she had four hamburgers cooling on the stovetop, three of them for people that weren¡¯t there. She turned off the stove and left the cooling meat on the counter, where it would remain for three days, feeding only a family of flies. She didn¡¯t lie on her own bed. It was too empty and cold to bear the thought of lying there. Nor could she even look at her daughter¡¯s room. Instead, she sat on the couch and stared at empty space. She never tried to fall asleep. Instead, her body merely turned off. For the second time, Alkataia opened her eyes. She didn¡¯t move. She was in her bed in her room once more. The cool silk sheets pressed against fevered skin, her body burning with sorrow. She was hot and cold and anguished and furious, and she was unable to muster the resolve to sit up or otherwise try to understand what was happening. Until she bolted from the bed, eyes wide, and opened her menus once more. Fire Lily Online Her daughter was online. Again, it never occurred to her that her daughter¡¯s account could have been stolen, or that it could be a glitch, or anything else. She knew her daughter was there. She felt it deep in her bones, whatever body she had. She was there, and that meant she was in reach. Once more, she tried to message her daughter. ~E R R O R~ The Princess was stolen, how sad! But really, could it all be that bad? From the Land she rules, All covered in jewels,This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. If you¡¯d find her, seek out the bright lad! She screamed. She grabbed a chair, and hefted it, throwing it through the window behind her. It shattered in a dozen sparkling daggers raining down on the earth below, as she grabbed a basin and threw it as well. She screamed, and raged, and threw until there was nothing left but a crying figure at the center of the room. She didn¡¯t know how long she¡¯d been crying when a gentle knock at the door caught her attention. For a moment she looked up in fear, certain she¡¯d see blue and red lights flooding the room. Instead, there was just that light and gentle knocking. ¡°My lady? Are you alright?¡± came a voice from the door, more hesitant even than the knocking. She thought of screaming ¡°no¡± in response, but she had no more screams left in her. Instead, she drew herself up and flung open the door. The startled cabin rentier fell back. She didn¡¯t answer him, gave him not a moment¡¯s thought. Instead, she began walking once more. She didn¡¯t have time to waste. She¡¯d been given a clue, and if it was the only way she could find her daughter, then so be it. She¡¯d seek out the ¡°bright lad¡± to see what he could tell her. --- She spent nearly the entire night looking in vain. She wandered through the town aimlessly, uncertain of where to go, unmoored from anything. She tried and tried to find anyone who seemed to be glowing, or well lit, or anything else that could possibly fit. She even looked for those with particularly bright clothing, to no avail. Part of the problem, she had to admit, was probably her. She was not in any condition to be doing this. She¡¯d mostly gotten herself under control, but that still meant she spent minutes at a time shivering and clinging to herself. None of the NPCs would approach her when she was like that, and most of the players assumed she was some unique NPC due to her advanced animations. It¡¯s hard to find anyone when no one wants to be near you. So she walked from one end of the town to the other, staring at every man she passed, while she became more and more certain that she was on a hopeless task. That she might, in fact, be as crazy as anyone else would say she was, if she tried to tell them what she was doing. So by five AM, she had just given up. She was sitting on a bench at the edge of the city, surrounded by a field of flowers quivering in anticipation of the approaching dawn. The meadows were growing increasingly quiet, all the birds holding their music in anticipation of the start of the day¡¯s festivities. Alkataia noticed none of this. She was too busy trying not to cry. Which is why she didn¡¯t notice the approaching figure until he¡¯d thrust the flower into her line of sight. ¡°Flower for your thoughts, miss?¡± He was tall, with a suit of shining silver chainmail, although without a hood. Thick leather gloves covered his hands, and a few strips of steel were strapped over his thighs and shins. On his head, he only wore a thick strip of leather to tie back his thick red hair. His green eyes stared at her from over his clean-kept beard, and a massive claymore was strapped to his back. And he was holding out a flower for her. She tried ignoring him, but after a full minute he was still there, the flower still offered. ¡°I do not want your flower,¡± she choked out, eyes still down. ¡°Maybe not, but I sure think you could use it,¡± was his immediate reply. His voice was lyrical, not deep but not high, and it rang through the air. She had glanced up before, to see who he may be, but this time she stared into his face, growing angry. ¡°I do not need a flower, sir,¡± she grated, voice hot. His gaze didn¡¯t waver from hers for even a moment. ¡°No,¡± he whispered. ¡°I suppose not. You don¡¯t need a flower at all. It¡¯s a princess you seek.¡± She felt her heart stop, her world freeze. She realized she wasn¡¯t breathing, and everything was dimming, and actually felt herself begin to fall until the man before her caught her and sat her back on the bench. ¡°Breath, Alkataia. Take deep breaths,¡± he insisted, voice piercing through the panic. She pushed out wildly, forcing him away, backing away in alarm. ¡°How do you know that?¡± she shouted. ¡°How do you know my name?¡± The man stood back up, backing away, hands raised in peace. ¡°Your name is above your head, same as any player¡¯s for those who know the way of looking.¡± Some of the panic bled out at that, but after a quick glance of her own it returned. ¡°You¡¯re not a player. Your name isn¡¯t visible, so how can you seen mine?¡± she questioned, hands reaching for a weapon. The man shook his head, hands still up. ¡°I¡¯m not a player, no, but some of us have ways to use parts of your system. Not all of it, but enough. I can see a player¡¯s name. I can do item exchanges, even for those that aren¡¯t awake. And I can form a party. I¡¯ve been sent to form one with you.¡± She couldn¡¯t focus, couldn¡¯t think, it was moving too fast and she didn¡¯t understand what was happening. ¡°Why?¡± The man tried to smile in a disarming way, but he stopped when he realized it wasn¡¯t working. ¡°I¡¯m here to lead you to your princess,¡± he said carefully. ¡°The trip is long, but I¡¯ll help you find her.¡± She had her sword out, and she had it quite close to his face, though he didn¡¯t react. ¡°How? Why?¡± He seemed genuinely sad when he answered. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you yet. I¡¯m sorry. I need you to trust me.¡± And he reached out a hand. Chapter 3 - "Dance Partner" ¡°Why are we out here?¡± Alkataia was not happy to be there. She was not happy about many things. For a moment, she was shocked to realize she had not been very happy for a long time, but she put that out of mind. ¡°I told you,¡± said the man she had followed out of town. ¡°If you¡¯re going to reach your daughter, you need to be able to fight.¡± He had led her far from town, first following a road to the west, and then striking south into the rolling foothills. That had wound up in a valley, mostly free of the endless flowers which seemed to burst forth from every available surface in this shard. Instead, a single gnarled tree grew at its center, with a few scattered boulders dotting the landscape. Upon arrival, the man had sat down upon one of the rocks, and had drawn a number of vials from his pockets. He had begun to measure powders and leaves, adding them carefully to the empty vials, and then begun to add dollops of some sweet smelling glop to them. She had tried to wait patiently, but the longer she stood there, the less certain she felt about having followed him. ¡°Why can¡¯t we go now?¡± she demanded, arms crossed tightly. There was barely a hesitation before the man responded, though his hands did not waver in their task. ¡°You¡¯re not strong enough to make it yet. The trip is dangerous. If we¡¯re going to reach the Princess, you need to obtain a Jewel of Mordred. And if we¡¯re to obtain that, you need to learn how to fight. And if you¡¯re to learn to fight¡­¡± He trailed off, just as the liquid in the bottles began to react. A high pitched fizzing noise emanated from each of them, as the mixture within slowly began to turn red. ¡°We¡¯ll need some healing potions,¡± he finished. Alkataia didn¡¯t allow her eyes to wander to the concoctions. ¡°You haven¡¯t even told me your name yet.¡± This time Alkataia did actually notice the hesitation. ¡°You can call me Dolant, alright?¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°And what can you tell me of my daughter, Dolant?¡± The man sighed, standing away from the five glowing bottles he had prepared. ¡°I can tell you she¡¯s safe,¡± he said, taking up a stand near her. ¡°I can tell you that, as you are now, it¡¯s impossible for you to reach her. I can tell you that I have every intention of doing everything within my power to see you safely to her side. I can tell you that the plan I have is truly the one I think has the best chance of obtaining that outcome.¡± She searched his face as he spoke, seeking some sign within the set of his eyes, the lines of his mouth, to confirm the truth of his words. Yet, as before, she knew she¡¯d follow what he said for a single reason: she had no other leads to go on. The police were looking, but she couldn¡¯t honestly make herself believe they¡¯d find anything. Her daughter seemed to be in the game along with her. It was hard to accept that, but the only alternative was to accept she¡¯d gone mad. As tempting as that thought was - if she was only made, maybe her daughter was safe - she couldn¡¯t allow herself to succumb to it. If she accepted that, then either her daughter was trapped with a mad woman, or else she¡¯d be wallowing in a lie and there¡¯d be no one to pursue the truth of her daughter¡¯s whereabouts. She knew, in her bones, that her daughter¡¯s disappearance had something to do with the game. Just as surely as she knew she was in here somewhere, she knew the way to her daughter lay somewhere within the Realms. And the only possible lead she had was the man before her. She could ask more questions, but at the moment they didn¡¯t seem like they¡¯d actually help. All she cared about was finding her daughter. So she¡¯d accept she was in the game. She¡¯d accept the help of his NPC. She¡¯d accept her entire situation. Because she¡¯d rather accept that, and move forward, than just giving up. She forced her arms down to her sides. ¡°What now?¡± Dolant nodded to himself, then reached down to pick up a satchel she hadn¡¯t seen behind the rock. From it, he drew two long, thick sticks. ¡°Now I teach you to fight.¡± And he tossed one of the sticks to her. She flinched, and put her hands up. To her surprise, she caught the weapon in her hand easily. ¡°Your body knows how to fight, but you do not,¡± said Dolant, nodding at her. ¡°That will see you through a basic combat, but we¡¯re going to tougher places than that. We need to teach you to fight, not just let your body do it for you.¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. She nodded, though truthfully she had no idea what he meant. She held the stick in her hand, and gave it an experimental swing. She found herself swinging it strongly, confidently. The powerful movements were completely against her expectations. ¡°Just so,¡± said Dolant. ¡°Now, if you don¡¯t mind, come try to hit me.¡± Partially it was because she¡¯d already decided the quickest path to finding her daughter was to follow his orders. Partially it was because she was curious to see what she¡¯d learn. Mostly, though, she was just happy to hit the current source of her frustration. So when he said to attack him, she was more than happy to oblige. She rushed forward, racing towards him with a speed she could scarcely believe, and then brought the stick crashing down to his head. Or at least, to where his head had been. He had neatly sidestepped the attack, and brought his own stick whistling around into her side. She had just enough time to realize he had slowed the attack some before it actually hit, and then she was too busy curling up on the ground. 14 damage! The pain didn¡¯t linger, thankfully, but it was sharp enough in the moment to linger in the mind. She realized after a few moments that Dolant was actually crouched at her side, one of the potions in his hand. He had placed it at her lips, and though she wanted to push it aside, she wanted the relief it promised more. At the first taste of it upon her lips, she felt fire rush through her spine, and spill into her limbs. It tasted of cherries, and summer, and nights well spent. Before she could have another drop, though, it was already pulled away. ¡°Don¡¯t have enough to waste,¡± Dolant said, and he actually sounded apologetic. ¡°I knew the first hit would be hard to take, so I had that ready, but from this point on we¡¯ll need you to get a bit more injured before you can use any.¡± ¡°What is it?¡± she asked, rubbing her side. Instead of the cracked rib she expected, there was nothing. Even the memory of the pain seemed lessened. She glanced up at the HP counter at the corner of her vision, and saw it was full once more. There was even two small icons there now, one with a small green arrow over a shield, and another with a small green arrow over an arm. ¡°Special brew,¡± was the answer. ¡°Quite effective, but loses potency after a couple hours. So that¡¯s how long we have to teach you how to fight. Now, come try to hit me again.¡± She drew the stick back¡­ and paused. The pain might be gone, and the memory already fading, but she wasn¡¯t stupid. The memory was manageable, but still there. Then she grit her teeth, and charged. This time, though he dodged it once more, no attack was forthcoming. ¡°Very good. Plenty of bravery,¡± he said from her side, while resting the stick on her shoulder. ¡°That first hit was more of a warning, than anything else. You¡¯re used to this being a game. Now, it is not a game. This is your body, and the things you do will impact you. That means pain when fighting. You needed to know what that could be like, at the very beginning, while you¡¯re still inexperienced enough that I can control the combat. ¡°Now, from this point on, I won¡¯t be trying to hurt you. But, as you improve, bumps and bruises will be inevitable. You¡¯ll start to get better, and we¡¯ll both have to actually give it our all for you to reach that level. So hits will happen. That¡¯s why I have the potions. Let¡¯s get going.¡± --- They¡¯d been fighting for half an hour, and she was beginning to grow frustrated. It¡¯s not that she wasn¡¯t hitting him. Once she¡¯d grown used to his movements, and had started to anticipate him, she¡¯d been able to land plenty of hits. She swing her weapon at him, trusting in her body¡¯s instincts to direct the blow, and she could hit him easily enough. It¡¯s just that the hits were worthless. She¡¯d asked, and he told her there were training weapons. They were intentionally made to do as little damage as possible to your training partner. That didn¡¯t explain how he¡¯d done three times more damage than she was doing though. And all he¡¯d say in return is, ¡°You need to hit me.¡± She was angry, she was bruised, and she was beginning to think this was a waste of time. So when she got a shot this time, after he deliberately moved just a hair slower than normal so she could see his mocking smile, she didn¡¯t just initiate an attack and let her body take over. She gripped the stick with both hands, and leaned into it, concentrating all of her rage and frustration into the blow, willing it to strike him for all she was worth. Even as she was swinging, she knew she¡¯d done something right. 9 damage. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was easily twice what she had been doing. Much more satisfyingly, it was also enough to drive the wind from Dolant¡¯s lungs. He wheezed as he walked over to the collection of potions, and took a sip. He sighed as it did its work. ¡°There you go. I told you - you need to hit me. Not your body. You. Understand?¡± And she did, now. Her body was capable of performing actions without her, but it would only perform as well as it could if her mind remained in control every step of the way. ¡°Good,¡± said Dolant, straightening back up and hefting his own stick. ¡°Now that you¡¯ve got the idea, I can take off the training wheels. Time to get serious.¡± The half formed smile fell from her face. In a single moment, she went from triumphant to horrified. --- An hour and a half later, and having healed enough bruises to cover her body five times over, Dolant finally pronounced himself satisfied with her progress. By the end, she was entirely holding her own in her sparring. While Dolant was definitely a better trained fighter, his body didn¡¯t seemed to have the raw power hers did. She was now easily hitting him for more than he was her, sometimes significantly more, and she also seemed to move faster. Only his obviously exceptional training allowed him to keep up with her. Even so, by the end, he was taking two sips of the healing potion for her every one, and he seemed more than happy to end the training session. ¡°Well done,¡± he told her, and she glowed in pride. She had worked hard, and done well, and Lilly would be so- For the past hour she hadn¡¯t thought of Lily once. The training had been so brutal, requiring such perfect concentration, that all thoughts of her daughter had been driven from her mind. For that wonderful hour, there¡¯d been only the dance, and the exhilaration of her body. She began to shake. Dolant kept his distance, looking slightly to her side. ¡°That¡¯s enough for tonight. Time for you to wake up, I think. I¡¯ll be here when you return.¡± She wasn¡¯t listening. Her hand had already moved, reaching to logout. It felt like losing her daughter all over again. For an entirely hour, she hadn¡¯t thought of her once. She woke up to bitter tears. Chapter 4 - "Rainfall" The police came to speak to her that morning. They had nothing new for her, but just wanted to give her an update. She thanked them for their time, showed them to the door, and then returned to sitting in the living room. She sat there, as she had all morning so far, as she would do most of the day. She had allowed herself to forget her daughter. She had allowed herself to have fun, while her daughter was missing. She considered turning on the TV, or opening a book, or turning on her computer, but shame kept her rooted to the spot. She didn¡¯t want to allow herself to forget. She didn¡¯t want to reward herself for her failures. She just wanted to sit there and remember her failures. And at some point, she fell asleep. --- She woke up in the field of grass. The sun burned overhead, pushing an oppressive heat upon the landscape. She just lay there, staring into the sky, feeling the light burn into her skin. Then she heard his breathing. It was slow and rhythmic, the sounds of a person deep in sleep. She¡¯d heard sounds like that, once upon a time, every night. It had been months now since she had, but spent many more years before that hearing that sound. It brought fresh tears to her eyes. She sat up, hands pressing pass the grass to the thick soil below. Dolant was there, a few scant feet away. He¡¯d stretched his cloak out, one half held down atop a rock by another smaller rock, and the other end tied to the hit of his sword, which had been thrust into the ground. His red hair was untied, spread out and framing his face, while he held the ribbon that usually bound it in his hand. She watched the rise and fall of his chest for several minutes. With his hand behind his head, and his one leg hitched up like that, for a moment she was transported in time. She could remember so many nights watching a figure like that. Just sitting there, watching and marveling and being so very happy. It was hard to remember it hadn¡¯t been that long ago. It was too hard to watch him. It was too hard to be here. He had promised he¡¯d help her find her daughter, but for the moment she couldn¡¯t stand being here with him. Couldn¡¯t stand his promises, his secrets. Couldn¡¯t stand that he would choose to be near her. So she set off. She had only the vaguest idea of where town was, but for the moment she was much more interested in simply being away from where she was. As she strode through the low hills and meadows, the heat gradually scaled back as clouds began to slip across the sky. They were ugly things, like a bruise festering in the sky, and she was unsurprised when the rain began a few minutes after that. She was surprised by how dark it got. Once the rain began it grew dark surprisingly quickly, the formerly nice day turning forbidding. She was forced to stop and try to get her bearings, the occasional lightning strike the only way she was able to see at all. She kept her eyes forward, waiting, and sure enough another bolt came crashing down overhead. She looked around wildly, trying to see where she¡¯d come from, or identify a marker leading back to town, or anything at all. It was on the third lightning strike that she saw the movement. It was distant still, and she couldn¡¯t make out the details properly, but she was sure she¡¯d seen movement in the distance to her left.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. And it was approaching her. It was pitch black, and she had no source of light, but she tried to backtrace then. She hadn¡¯t made it ten yards before she slipped on a wet incline and found herself sinking into the muddy ground. Then the whispers began. She couldn¡¯t understand them. She could barely him there, truthfully, but against all reason she could hear them. Over the pounding of the rain, and the crack of the thunder, and her own frantic breathing, she could still somehow hear the whispers. The sound was slick and oily, an invasive sound that sought to worm its way into her head. She could hear the whispers because they wanted to be heard, and nothing so mundane as an abundance of sound would stop them. She threw herself up and began to run then, mud and stricken turf being thrown up by her movement. She was moving wildly, not sure where she was going, not even being sure why she was running. She couldn¡¯t understand why she was panicking, but it was impossible to resist the pounding of her blood and the pounding of her heart. Something was wrong, and it was getting closer. Then the lightning flashed again, and she realized it was there. It was ten feet tall, and itself pitch black. It¡¯s skin seemed smooth as velvet, and its four eyes were a vivid purple, bound in tight slights across its face. Its four arms ended in vicious claws, and it was standing five feet from her. Barely a moment had passed before another streak of lightning arrived, illuminating the landscape, and try as she might, she couldn¡¯t see it anywhere. ¡°Kendra,¡± came the sigh, cutting through the wind and the rain and her heart. It didn¡¯t feel like it was her body that turned around. She was no more in control in that moment than you were in a nightmare. Her body simply rotated in place, as if pulled by strings attached to hooks slipped into her ribs and her lungs and her heart. The lights were flashing through the windows, red and blue, casting the room in their garish light. Except it wasn¡¯t her bedroom, because the front door was there, and it was opening. ¡°You lost her, Kendra,¡± came the voice from just beyond the widening entrance. She was trying to breathe, but she was having trouble. Her throat had closed up, and it seemed like her tongue was trying to lodge itself deep in her throat. ¡°How could you lose our daughter, Kendra?¡± asked Mark, stepping through the opened portal. He was dressed just like she remembered from the funeral. The black tux, that light green shirt she thought looked stupid on him but he loved so much. The slightly tacky purple tie their daughter had bought for him two Christmases ago. What wasn¡¯t the same as the funeral was that this apparition had never been cleaned up after the accident. His left shoulder was nearly down to his naval, and his neck was no longer capable of supporting his head. ¡°You were supposed to protect her,¡± he weeped, walking towards her. He was going to kill her, she knew that. As much as she knew the sun would rise in the morning, she knew he was here to kill her. And all she could feel was relieved. Then Dolant arrived. ¡°That¡¯s enough of that!¡± he screamed, and all at once the scene broke. She wasn¡¯t in her house, and that wasn¡¯t Mark. The four armed creature was back, except it was now only inches from her. She felt three of its claws on her - one on each shoulder, and one around her waist pulling her close. The mouth was open, and it was just about to close on her throat. Or would have, if Dolant¡¯s sword hadn¡¯t chosen that moment to slice cleanly through the creature¡¯s neck. It screamed, a hideous shriek that went on and on. She collapsed to the ground, screaming herself, pushing the creature¡¯s hands away. She screamed again when they touched her anew, only to realize it was Dolant. As her tears slowed, and her shaking stopped, the storm began to slow, and then fade. As quickly as it had begun, it was gone, and it was once more a beautiful Summer day. She realized her head was in Dolant¡¯s lap, and he had his arms around her, but she didn¡¯t care. Didn¡¯t care who he was, or what he knew, or anything else. All she cared was that someone was there to hold her. She listened to the rustling of the wind, and the depths of his breaths. ¡°They¡¯re called Nightmares,¡± he said, his voice resolutely calm. ¡°And there¡¯s hundreds of them guarding the passage leading to the Princess. They¡¯re tear us to shreds if we tried to make the journey now. The moment we¡¯re able to get by them, we¡¯ll head out, but I can¡¯t get you there yet. And as you just saw, they¡¯re already looking for you.¡± It took several tries before she managed to find her voice, but she managed to croak it out at last. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because they want the Princess,¡± he answered calmly, ¡°and they can¡¯t reach her. Not yet, anyway. But they can reach you.¡± She wasn¡¯t sure what she was going to answer. Wasn¡¯t sure what to say. Warning! Autonomous logout will be triggered in 10 seconds due to outside stimulus. She nearly jumped when the message popped into her vision. ¡°I¡¯ve got to go,¡± she stammered, pulling up the menu. ¡°I¡¯ll keep you safe until you get back,¡± Dolant replied, arms still resolutely around her. She didn¡¯t nod, didn¡¯t reply at all. And a moment later, she had logged out.