《Realms of the Veiled Paths》 ONE: GAME START Was he dead? The thought bounced off the edges of nothingness, rippling through the dark abyss, like a stone skimming across black water under the light of a new moon. Darkness pressed against him like an unseen blanket, thick and heavy. He tried to look around. He could feel his eyes moving, his head turning, but it was like he was underwater, in the depths of the oceans where light feared to tread. Where am I? he wondered to the void and his thoughts echoed back to him. Then another thought appeared, more concerning than the first. Who am I? More thoughts appeared in the endless vacuum. Images. Memories. Flashes of vivid colour against the black, like fireworks in a midnight sky. Visions flit through his mind faster than he could decipher them. ¡°Mr Smith,¡± a voice called out. A feminine, melodic voice. His heart leapt at the sound, eyes frantically searching for the source of that beacon in the darkness. ¡°Mr Smith,¡± she called again. He darted through the nothingness, searching, but found only black. An infinite expanse of nothing. Suddenly, he felt pain. Red-hot pain, spreading across his face like lightning branching through storm clouds. His eyes fluttered open. A young woman, tall and slender, leant over in front of him. Blonde hair spilled past her shoulders like golden rivers, settling into the valley between the twin mountains straining against her tight blouse. It was like an invitation to a climbing expedition. He put a hand to his cheek; his flesh raw and hot like his face had been pressed to a burning stove. ¡°Did you¡­¡± he rubbed the side of his cheek, felt the heat under his palm, ¡°¡­slap me?¡± ¡°Come now,¡± she purred, ¡°you should be so lucky.¡± He looked at her ¨C the cleavage, the blonde hair, the piercing blue eyes and he had to admit to himself. He should be so lucky. He peeled his eyes away and looked around the room. It was some sort of waiting area, the stench of cigarettes and cheap coffee masked unsuccessfully by the perfume that clung to the girl. He was sprawled across a sofa of purple velvet fabric that hugged the wall next to a massive wooden reception desk that he supposed served as the office for the young lady hovering in front of him. Around him, the walls were plastered in endless patterns of figure eights in oranges and reds that burned his eyes. A potted plant in a bright orange vase stood guard in a corner, its green leaves swaying with uncertainty, like an unwanted guest at a party. ¡°The Gamesmaster is ready for you,¡± the young girl said, putting a hand beneath his arm and helping him up. She pointed at a door beyond her desk. ¡°The Gamesmaster?¡± he asked, looking into her eyes. She said nothing but nodded and led him towards the door. ¡°He¡¯ll explain everything to you,¡± she said and pushed him through. *** Was he dead? The thought bounced off the edges of nothingness, rippling through the dark abyss, like a stone skimming across black water under the light of a new moon. Darkness pressed against him like an unseen blanket, thick and heavy. He tried to look around. He could feel his eyes moving, his head turning but it was like he was underwater, in the depths of the oceans where light feared to tread. Where am I? he wondered to the void and his thoughts echoed back to him. Then another thought appeared, more concerning than the first. Who am I? ¡°Mr Smith,¡± a voice called out. A male, deep voice. His heart leapt at the sound, eyes frantically searching for the source of that threat in the darkness. ¡°Mr Smith,¡± the voice called again. He darted through the nothingness, searching, but found only black. An infinite expanse of nothing. Suddenly, he felt pain. Red-hot pain, spreading across his face like lightning branching through storm clouds. His eyes fluttered open. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir,¡± an old man said, leaning over. He was short and fat. Grey hair fell past his shoulders like polluted rivers, settling into the valley between the sagging mountains straining against his tight t-shirt. It was like an unwanted invitation to a climbing expedition. ¡°Most people wake up quite quickly, especially after being called.¡± He put a hand to his cheek; his flesh raw and hot like his face had been pressed to a burning stove. ¡°Did you¡­¡± he rubbed the side of his cheek, felt the heat under his palm, ¡°¡­slap me?¡± ¡°Come now,¡± the old man purred, ¡°you should be so lucky.¡± He looked at him ¨C the fleshy mountains, the grey hair, the piercing red eyes and he very much hoped he wasn¡¯t lucky. He felt like he¡¯d had this same experience not too long ago. Or maybe it was very long ago. It didn¡¯t seem like the first time. Nor the second, nor the third. But things were different. Details were different. He couldn¡¯t put his finger on what. He looked around the room, filled with the calm scent of spring flowers and the juicy aroma of summer fruits. It wasn¡¯t much of a room at all. Something drifted across the edges of his mind. A wooden desk. The figure eight. A plant. No such things existed here. He was cradled in a fluffy white sofa, as if sitting amongst the clouds, it¡¯s fabric undiscernible against the limitless expanse of white that surrounded him. It was broken only by a single disc, hanging in the air a few feet beyond the old man. Inside the disc was the image of a young man he didn¡¯t recognise but he felt he should. Dressed in a hospital gown with faded blue dots, the man lay motionless in bed, white sheets covering half his body. It was a white man, no older than thirty, his face pale and thin with dark hair matted against his forehead. A neck brace held his head in place and tubes and wires reached out from the man¡¯s arms to machines that surrounded the bed. A middle-aged woman, slightly plump with fading blonde hair sat by the man¡¯s side, clutching his left hand between hers and looking lovingly at his face. A younger girl, in jeans and a sweater, slept in a chair by the window, her cheeks red and puffy. ¡°Who is that?¡± he asked. The old man turned to view the disc himself. ¡°That¡­is you.¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. He stared at the motionless man. ¡°Me?¡± Then he realised he didn¡¯t even know who he was. But if that was him in the bed, then where was he now? ¡°You¡¯re not dead,¡± the old man said, as if reading his mind. ¡°Tyler Smith, twenty-five, unemployed, college drop-out. Citizen of the United States of America, on the planet of Earth. Welcome to Purgatory. Well, without the torment. Yet.¡± The old man laughed. The name meant nothing to him but he understood Earth and the USA. Again, thoughts drifted across the edge of his consciousness as if his mind were trying to recall the memories but the connections were lost. ¡°What happened to me?¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad you asked,¡± the old man said, skipping away towards the disc. ¡°Stay seated. Let me explain,¡± he said, as if he were giving a tour. ¡°You, good sir, were on the way to shoot up a school, but, luckily for you-¡± His eyes widened. ¡°Wait! What?! Why the hell would I do that?¡± It was strange. He knew what a school was. Understood how to use a gun. But he couldn¡¯t recall either being in a school or holding a gun. The knowledge was there in his head but not the experiences. It was like knowing how to paint but having no visions to share. The old man waved at the disc. ¡°Recognise the girl sleeping there?¡± He shook his head. ¡°She¡¯s your younger sister, Hannah. Eighteen. And she had a friend, Madison, also eighteen, that you¡¯ve known for about a year. Now, I hate to break it to you but you kinda¡­had a thing for Maddie. Asked her out. She said no. ¡°She wasn¡¯t the first to say no to you, but you were going to make sure she was the last. One of those ¡®if I can¡¯t have her, no-one can¡¯ situations. Luckily for you, you had a crash on the way to the school. Left you quadriplegic, brain-damaged and in a coma.¡± He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and stared at the disc. If he couldn¡¯t recognise the comatose man before, he sure didn¡¯t recognise him now. Didn¡¯t want to recognise him. Hitting on his little sister¡¯s friend? School shooting? He searched his memory for any hints of such darkness, but found nothing. He remembered nothing. ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡± ¡°Am I?¡± the old man smirked at him. Looking into the old man¡¯s red eyes was unnerving, like he knew secrets that he wouldn¡¯t reveal. He turned back to the disc, looked at the younger girl ¨C his sister. If what the old man said was true, he had been on his way to kill her friend and there she was, face puffy from the tears she had cried. He looked at his mother holding his hand, as if she were praying for him to come back. Perhaps they didn¡¯t know what he had been planning. Perhaps they had as many questions for him as he did. His mind was completely blank. He¡¯d like to think he wasn¡¯t the kind of person this old man was insinuating but he had no memory to confirm it. ¡°If I really planned to do that, maybe the crash wasn¡¯t a bad thing. Maybe it was justice.¡± ¡°Maybe it was. Maybe it was the fate of the gods for you to end up like that.¡± The old man looked at him and smiled. ¡°But what if you could have another chance?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°What would you do if you had the choice between returning to your body as it is right now,¡± the old man twisted his body and swept an arm out to motion towards the disc before turning back to him, ¡°or returning to your life before you asked Madison out?¡± The offer was intriguing but made no sense to him. He still wasn¡¯t sure he was the person in the disc, and even if he were, how exactly could this man return him to a time before now? When was now, for that matter? Where was here? He glanced at the endless expanse of white. ¡°What is this place?¡± The old man made pistol motions several times, like a cowboy in a shootout, before he stopped and pointed a single finger towards him with a wink. ¡°This is the world between worlds. Like I said, Purgatory, without the torment. Except, the worlds you can go to aren¡¯t heaven or hell. Well, not literally, anyway.¡± The old man gestured to the disc, and the image of the comatose man blurred, replaced with the image of a planet that looked like Earth at first glance, though on closer inspection, he saw that it wasn¡¯t Earth at all. It seemed to have less water, less clouds and greenery, but most noticeably, from north to south was a vast region of black desert that divided the planet in two. ¡°This is Cytheria, a planet in the outer reaches of the Andromeda galaxy. It¡¯s a game-world.¡± ¡°A game-world?¡± he asked. ¡°Yeah. Gain experience, progress through levels, acquire skills, increase your advantages, become as powerful as you can? Like a game. ¡°See, Cytheria¡¯s inhabitants have been in a centuries-long war with entities from other worlds that invaded their lands. What Cytheria, and many others like it need, are heroes. Heroes to help them fight. What I do, is offer the chance of redemption for those in positions like yourself. ¡°See, here, you have an opportunity. You¡¯re not the only one. Billions of souls, across billions of worlds, in circumstances similar to yours, given an opportunity for another chance. Granted, not all of them planned to do what you were planning but then there¡¯s plenty that did worse. ¡°Now, you could go back to that hospital bed. No memories. No guilt. Just a broken body and a lost mind. Or, you can go to Cytheria, live an amazing life, become a hero of the people and then, you get another choice. Stay in Cytheria and never return to your life or you get to go back to before it all went wrong.¡± ¡°What would happen to me on Earth, if I chose to remain in Cytheria?¡± ¡°Nothing. Right now, you¡¯re an empty shell there anyway. The heart¡¯s pumping but the engine¡¯s not there. Your soul, the essence of your being, is right here. You¡¯d get a new body on Cytheria. On Earth, you¡¯d remain comatose until your body withered away.¡± The offer was tempting. His eyes remained on the world inside the disc as he pondered on the options, but his thoughts turned to his mother and sister. Did he have a father too? How would they cope if he never came back? Did it even matter? ¡°Can I see me again?¡± he asked. The image in the disc blurred again and Tyler Smith returned, comatose, mother and sister at his side. As he looked upon the image, wondering what this new world might hold for him, he was fairly certain that he didn¡¯t want to go back as he was now. Quadriplegic. Brain-dead. A mother spending days and nights, holding his hand, praying beyond hope that he would return. A sister, spending days and nights crying, blaming herself for having introduced him to her friend. It might have been a deserved punishment for him but it wasn¡¯t fair to them. And he hadn¡¯t done the deed, had he? Intention and action were two very different things. The line between them might be thin but it was there. ¡°What would I have to do?¡± The old man smiled, mouth curling towards his eyes. ¡°I won¡¯t lie to you. It won¡¯t be easy. You¡¯ll arrive in the Kingdom of Aleria, on the borders with The Rift, the black region you see here. Over the course of your journey, you need to become a hero and join the armies or lead your own to take back the Rift. As long as it exists, its threatens the Cytherians. Fortunately, the Rift Lords don¡¯t seem interested in encroaching upon the rest of the world for now but it¡¯s only a matter of time. We need to break through first. If we don¡¯t who knows what might happen? ¡°Unfortunately, some heroes have settled in, carved out empires for themselves and skirmish with each other. Others have decided to master professions and live simple lives. Only a few are still searching for a way to take the Rift. With enough bodies, they think they¡¯ll have the power to move forwards and to convince the other heroes to join them.¡± He took a look at the image of himself again. If he helped to overcome these Rift Lords, he¡¯d get another chance. Get to go back to before he made that choice. A clean slate. A chance to do things properly. Or, the chance for a new life altogether. A new world. A new life. A new beginning. His mind was made up. ¡°So how would this work?¡± ¡°Is that a yes?¡± the old man said. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°You¡¯re absolutely sure?¡± He had a final look at himself, asleep on the hospital bed, hooked up to the machines. ¡°I¡¯m sure. I¡¯ll go to Cytheria. I¡¯ll become a hero. ¡°And I¡¯ll win.¡± The old man looked at him and smiled, hands rubbing together in glee. ¡°That I would like to see. Perhaps you¡¯re just the right kind of crazy to make it work. ¡°Okay, first things first. Do you want the simple tutorial or the advanced tutorial?¡± ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± ¡°That I can¡¯t tell you but look at it as a leap of faith. You¡¯re going to a new world. You¡¯re going to be making a lot of leaps of faith.¡± ¡°Give me the advanced tutorial,¡± he said. He needed as much information as he could get if he was going to make this work. He just hoped the tutorial wasn¡¯t boring. ¡°As you wish,¡± the Gamesmaster said. ¡°You can¡¯t choose a different race or gender, so you¡¯ll spawn as a human male, looking as you do now. You can choose a different name, if you wish. Anything you want, fifty character limit.¡± Imtheawesomestherothatseverheroed came to mind. ¡°Can I change my name after?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Tyler Smith is fine.¡± ¡°Okay. Human. Male. Tyler Smith. Once you¡¯re there, if you say ¡®status¡¯, it will open up your UI and you¡¯ll be able to navigate from there. Are you ready?¡± He nodded. ¡°Before you go, I should warn you about one thing. If you die in Cytheria, that¡¯s it. There¡¯s no going back, not even to your current body.¡± He nodded again. ¡°Then I guess I better not die.¡± TWO: THE ADVANCED TUTORIAL Tyler found himself on his hands and knees, looking at a patch of red grass, flecked with touches of green. It felt slimy beneath his hands and carried the scent of rusted iron. Lifting his left hand, he stared at the thick, cherry liquid that coated his palm and dripped between his fingers. Before he could process what it might be, something hit the grass ahead with a wet thud, and rolled towards him, leaving a glistening trail in its wake. The ball gently bumped his right arm and came to a rest. Except, it wasn¡¯t a ball at all. It was someone¡¯s head. Without the body. The face was frozen in terror, teeth smashed in its open mouth, eyes bulging as if to escape their sockets. Tyler let out a scream, guttural and harsh from the very depths of his throat as he scrambled backwards. He looked up, searching for the body that was missing its head. He found it several feet ahead of him, slumped against a tree with blood spurting from the shredded remnant of its neck as it slowly slid down to take its final rest. Standing over the corpse was a tall figure. Too tall for a man. Skin that looked like the charred remains of a tree was stretched so thin across its body that it seemed impossible it hadn¡¯t torn. Gnarled ridges and rough edges covered every inch of the thing. It turned its head in his direction but where eyes and ears should have been, there was only grooved skin. The thing had massive nostrils though. Three of them, stretching across the centre of its face, flaring as it sniffed its surroundings. It¡¯s mouth was open, revealing sharp teeth, like black stalactites hanging inside a cavern. Tyler¡¯s heart beat against his ribcage, wanting to escape whether Tyler followed or not. His breaths were shallow, swift, like his beating heart. Every instinct, every fibre of his being was telling him to run but he forced himself to stay calm. Forced himself to stay still. The thing continued sniffing, twisting its head this way and that, eventually settling in his vague direction. Given the lack of eyes and ears, Tyler reckoned it was dependent on smell. Like a cat or dog. And if that was the case, it would likely be able to discern his scent. At least, it would know there was something here that was not like the other smells. As if to prove Tyler right, the thing began moving in his direction. If his heart had been beating fast before, now it was trying to set a world record for beats per minute. His breaths were struggling to keep up, his lungs failing to draw air fast enough. He glanced frantically around him, searching for a place to hide, a place to flee to but the forest offered little cover, like it had not to the headless corpse before him. The headless corpse? The headless corpse! He looked to where the head had fallen. The red grass. The glistening trail of blood it had left behind. He leapt forward and grabbed the head, holding it above himself so what blood remained would fall from its severed neck and drain over him. Then he put the head back, rolled in the puddle of blood that soaked the grass, and stood as the thing was almost upon him. Cautiously, carefully, he crept past the advancing creature. The thing turned towards him as he passed, but Tyler ran as quickly as he dared and positioned himself against the headless corpse that lay against the tree. He hoped it would work. That the creature would think he was the corpse and leave him alone. The thing looked in his direction, sniffed the air several times but then stilled. It turned back to the head, walked over to it and crouched down, where it opened its mouth impossibly wide and consumed the head whole. Tyler silently gasped. He had thought, or rather, he had hoped the corpse was nothing more than a hunter¡¯s kill. He watched from the corner of his eye as the thing returned, its massive nostrils flaring again as it sniffed around Tyler. It leaned in closer, its head hovering above Tyler¡¯s right shoulder, then against his face, then to his left. It sniffed across his torso and stopped over his heart. Did it know? Could it sense him some other way? Tyler thought back to his words to the old man and grimly smiled. He better not die? He hadn¡¯t even lasted five minutes. The thing began to open its mouth but then stopped. It turned its head, looked into the distance and stood abruptly. Tyler carefully shifted out of the way, and lay a few inches from the headless corpse. The creature began to walk in the direction it was looking, but as it did so, one of the gnarled ridges on its bark-like skin detached with ferocious speed, shooting into the corpse, where Tyler had been. His heart still pounding, Tyler watched as the creature walked away before letting out the breath that he had been holding. Above him, the black leaves of the forest trees shuffled, as if they too were glad to see the creature leave. Slivers of sunlight danced through gaps in the canopy. He looked down at the drying blood on his body, its stench thick in his nostrils. Only then did he realise he was naked. But he didn¡¯t care. The most beautiful girl in the world could walk upon him in this moment and he wouldn¡¯t care. He was alive. Suddenly, white text floated into his vision. [Quest Complete: Survive an Encounter with a Demon Tree Sprite] [+176,000 XP] He sprang upright, legs still resting on the forest floor, but the text followed him, fading out when it reached the top of his sight, before more text faded in at the bottom. [Level Gained!] For the briefest of seconds, a brilliant burst of golden light enveloped him like a miniature supernova, before dissipating in a flare of flickering sparks. +1[INT] +1[RES] +2[WIS] +1[CNV] That¡¯s right. What had the old man said? Cytheria was a game-world. He tried to think back to the last time he¡¯d played a game but nothing came to him. The memories of his old life remained missing. Perhaps he should have chosen the simple tutorial. He¡¯d thought an advanced tutorial would take him through every aspect of the game. Be more comprehensive than the simple one. He hadn¡¯t considered that it would force him to learn or die. Though now that he thought about it, it couldn¡¯t really get more advanced than that. What better way to learn than by doing, and what better motivation than having his life on the line? And he had to admit, it had been effective. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. He looked at the headless corpse to his right. Perhaps not effective for everyone. He wondered briefly who the person had been, what dreams they might have had. Whoever the person was, it was over for them. There would be no going back to make a better choice. There would be no living a new life. Tyler burned the image of the headless corpse into his memory. It would be his first memory ¨C a reminder of what could happen if he wasn¡¯t careful. A reminder that dead men have no purpose. Speaking of purpose, he¡¯d been here too long. He needed to move. That creature ¨C the Tree Sprite, he guessed ¨C could come back at any moment. He recalled the old-man¡¯s words on accessing the user interface but he needed to get to somewhere safer first. He could figure out what it all meant then. He stood and looked around him, gathering his bearings. The forest floor was littered with dying leaves and fallen branches, the vibrant golden glow of a setting sun scattered across its surface. Dark tree trunks, looking thin and sickly, rose to the black canopy above in all directions, their long shadows cutting across the dark roots on the ground. Not a sound could be heard. He looked to the right, the direction the Tree Sprite had walked, and thought it best to head in the opposite way. He turned to do so but stopped himself. He had no idea if there were more of those things out there, or whatever else could be lurking in the shadows. But the Tree Sprite had been drawn to something. There would be others here. Others like him and the headless corpse who had chosen the advanced tutorial. Billions of souls across billions of worlds, the old man had said. That Tree Sprite had to be heading towards something. Perhaps it was heading towards someone. He looked back in the direction the Tree Sprite had gone. How far ahead was it? He looked down at his naked body, still covered in blood. He started grabbing leaves from the forest floor, slapping them onto the blood and sticking them to his body. Where the blood had dried, he wiped more from the corpse beside him, feeling revulsion every time for violating its dignity but what choice did he have? He was alive and he planned to stay that way. Before long, he looked like a budget version of the Tree Sprite, small twigs hanging off the leaves plastered to him. He felt a little relief that his important bits were covered. If he did run into someone else, he wouldn¡¯t be completely embarrassed. He crushed some more leaves between his hands, rubbed his face with it, doing his best to cover every inch of himself in the musky scent. He hoped at the very least, that the smell of the leaves was more powerful than the blood. It smelt that way to him. Text floated across his vision again. +1[WIS] +1[CNV] He chuckled quietly to himself. Seemed the game agreed with him. He turned to the direction the Tree Sprite had headed in, took a deep breath and started walking. Well, he tried walking. His legs seemed to be as useful to him as they were in the hospital bed he had left behind. During the rush of adrenaline, they had been eager to do his bidding but now, they were staging a quiet mutiny, as if they had more sense than to be heading towards the thing that almost killed him. ¡°You will do what I need you to,¡± he said, looking at his legs like a parent to their child. If he wanted to survive here, he¡¯d need to learn to do things he might not want to, like with the blood, and not always under the influence of adrenaline. His mind and body would have to get used to it. Moving one foot in front of the other was difficult but he forced himself forwards, one step, two, three. He got into a rhythm, the adrenaline reduced, his heartbeat slowed down, his breathing normalised. Before long, he began to jog lightly. He followed a parallel path to the one the Tree Sprite had taken. He didn¡¯t want to be right behind it when he caught up. The leaves that covered his body rustled with every step, a few occasionally falling away, the odd twig snapping under his feet. He wondered where in this forsaken forest, he¡¯d be able to find some proper clothes. It didn¡¯t take long to catch up to the thing. It hadn¡¯t gotten farther than a few hundred metres from where Tyler had first encountered it. It didn¡¯t seem to be in a particular hurry, moving languidly towards its target. As Tyler got closer, within thirty metres of it, it abruptly stopped and turned its head, nostrils flaring, sniffing the air around it. Tyler ducked behind a tree for what little cover it could offer and watched carefully. His heart beat faster but not like before and his breaths came naturally. After a few moments, the creature lowered its head and continued on. Tyler gave himself a pleased smile. It seemed his camouflage had worked. Maybe outfits made of leaves was the way to go. With a bounce in his step, he followed at a distance, off to the right, matching the creature¡¯s pace. As he followed, the unnatural silence in the forest was broken only by the rustling of his makeshift outfit and the crunch of twigs beneath his feet. No birds chirped in the branches above. No excited chitter of squirrels leaping between trees. Even on the forest floor, he saw no signs of life. No sign of ants building a colony, or the webs of spiders between branches. No slimy trails through the fallen leaves. The leaves themselves and the grass were merely touched with green, the rest tarnished in black. The bark of the trees surrounding him had blackened, with layers peeling away in places, revealing a soft pulp beneath, with an off-colour amber hue. Even the roots sprawled across the ground looked infected, their surfaces dotted with puffed-up boils leaking black pus. Before he had time to ponder further, he noticed the trees ahead began to thin, the space between the sickly trunks growing ever so further apart. He took a chance and sped up, staying on the parallel path but getting closer to the Tree Sprite. He could see the edge of the forest, dark orange sunlight bathing large grey pebbles where they met the last of the rotted grass and dead leaves. He got even more closer, ducking behind a tree, right at the edge of the treeline, so he was no farther than ten metres from where the Tree Sprite stood. It had emerged onto a bank that gently sloped down to the edge of a stream of clear water. Smooth river stones of various sizes spread from the forest¡¯s edge right to the turquoise-blue water, disappearing beneath its surface. On the far side, another bank rose to meet another swathe of forest, but even in the fading light, it looked healthier, more alive than the one Tyler was in. At the water¡¯s edge, no more than fifteen metres ahead of where the Tree Sprite stood, ripples of waves lapped against the river bank as something swam towards it. A moment later, a woman emerged from the water, fully naked. Long silver hair framed a face with high cheekbones, and large, alluring eyes. Her golden brown skin glowed in the light of the setting sun, while her silver hair, like a waterfall of liquid moonlight, flowed past her shoulders, over her body and to almost halfway down her thighs, protecting her honour from his gaze. He knew he shouldn¡¯t stare but he hadn¡¯t seen someone so beautiful. Not that he would remember if he had, but he was sure he hadn¡¯t. She moved with delicate grace, stepping lightly across the stones beneath her feet, her eyes firmly on the Tree Sprite. Her lips curled ever so slightly. The creature didn¡¯t hesitate. Projectiles flew from its body with incredible speed, aimed at the silver-haired woman, but they never reached their target. Tyler¡¯s eyes widened as the sharp pieces of bark bounced off an invisible barrier and fell to the ground. Almost in the same instant, flames erupted from the Tree Sprite¡¯s body, engulfing it from head to toe. Reflections danced across the wet stones as the Tree Sprite writhed in agony yet it didn¡¯t move. It didn¡¯t try to run to the water that could save its life. Tyler realised then that it was trying to, but just as there was an invisible barrier protecting the woman, there was something trapping the creature in place. In mere seconds, the Tree Sprite crumbled to the ground in ashes, its screams unheard, like the person it had killed earlier. The ashes settled on the wet stones, absorbed into the water as Tyler turned his attention back to the woman. She gave the creature less thought than he did, having already turned away towards her equipment, gleaming by the water¡¯s edge. Tyler knew he shouldn¡¯t look but he was mesmerised by the curves of her body, the flawlessness of her skin, the confidence with which she moved. The power she had displayed was both terrifying and stunning. He needed to speak to her. If she was another one on the tutorial, she was clearly ahead of the curve. He just hoped she¡¯d be willing to help him. As he made to leave the cover of the forest, he felt something sharp press against the nape of his neck. A female voice whispered into his ear. ¡°Move, and you die.¡± THREE: FOURTH DEFENDER OF THE REALM -1[RES] floated across his vision as he was marched from the tree line and forced to kneel down in front of the silver-haired woman. She had her back to him as she donned her armour, helped by another girl, the clang of metal on metal drowning out the gentle lapping of the stream. The other girl looked to be a little younger than himself, dressed in what seemed to be a blue silk gown that hugged her figure from neck to waist and flared out towards her ankles. The gown was adorned with gems of a variety of colours. Startlingly, she had a shaved head, highlighting her round face, and brown eyes that seemed lost in distant thought. He squirmed in discomfort, his leafy outfit providing absolutely no protection against the rocks biting into his knees, but he remained silent with the unseen woman behind him still holding whatever was pressed against his neck. He knew nothing of armour ¨C wasn¡¯t even sure he¡¯d seen any before, but what the silver-haired woman wore looked expensive. Violet plates caught the last of the setting sun like the gleaming petals of an exotic metal flower as the young girl worked to secure the shoulders that flared like the wings of a mythical beast. Once done, the woman sat down on a rocky outcrop to face him, the ends of her silver hair resting on her thighs. The other girl placed a helm and gauntlets at the silver-haired woman¡¯s feet, and took a place by her side, setting a sheathed sword against the rocks. The ornate scabbard hinted at the beautiful weapon hidden inside, with its foot-long grip, and a blade three times as long. Gold inscription was carved along the length of the sheathe that was twice as wide at the hilt than at its point. The golden hilt was curved at its ends, and inscribed with silver cursive lettering. Just as beautiful were the gems, in yellow, red or blue, each marked with a silver line or cross that were set into her violet armour. He glanced at the gems on the young girls simple dress and noticed they too had markings. Every piece of the silver-haired woman¡¯s armour seemed to be adorned with at least one gem and some pieces had more, like her gloves and belt. Only her chest and helm didn¡¯t seem to contain any. Seeing her up-close made him feel stupid for staring at her by the river, but he found it difficult to keep his eyes away now. She wasn¡¯t as old as he¡¯d first thought, and was shorter than she had looked from afar. An inch or so shorter than himself, yet tall for a woman, and imposing nonetheless. She was beautiful for sure, with captivating light-green pupils within impossibly large, rounded eyes, and a delicate, upturned nose that complemented her high cheekbones. She had berry-coloured lips that he could almost taste and flawless bronze skin, but he could feel the confidence in the way she sat with the quiet certainty of judge, jury and executioner. She was beautiful in the way her sword was beautiful. With an edge that could kill. And would. She looked into the air above his head and nodded, and he felt the pressure released on his neck. He wanted to turn his head but dared not. The young girl at her side stood still, eyes on him, a green pendant he hadn¡¯t noticed earlier around her neck. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± the silver-haired woman asked, her soft voice at odds with the crushing pressure he felt. ¡°Tyler.¡± ¡°Where have you come from?¡± ¡°You mean like what planet?¡± ¡°I mean, where in the Kingdom are you from?¡± ¡°Kingdom?¡± ¡°Yes, Kingdom.¡± The old man had said he would be in the Kingdom of Aleria but he had no clue where. He could tell from the woman¡¯s eyes that she was waiting for him to give her the wrong answer. ¡°Honestly?¡± he said after a moment of silence, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± she said, leaning forward, looking at him as if she could see the answer in the very depths of his being. He shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t. I¡¯m from a planet called Earth but I can¡¯t remember anything from my life. I woke up in some kind of weird waiting room, with this beautiful woman with big t-¡° he stopped himself, looking at the beauty in front of him, recalling how he had looked at her when he first saw her emerge from the water. Probably best not to bring attention to that. Not to mention the other two women there. That knowledge he had from Earth tickled his mind that mentioning such things in front of women was not the same as if you mentioned it in a room of men. Especially when those women had shown themselves quite proficient at killing. ¡°Anyway, I then found myself in another room, and some guy called the Gamesmaster gave me the option to come here to Cytheria and I said yes. I thought it¡¯d be better than the alternative but so far, I¡¯m being proved wrong.¡± She glanced to the darkening sky and he tilted his head to look up too before turning his eyes back to her. She gestured to the sky with her finger. ¡°You¡¯re from another world?¡± At first, it concerned him that she didn¡¯t know that but then he realised that he was assuming everyone on this planet was from another world but it was just that ¨C an assumption. He had no evidence to say that was the case and from the way she was talking, it was evident it wasn¡¯t. Nevertheless, he had a feeling that his survival counted on convincing her that he was telling the truth. It would be an irony to avoid being killed by a monster, only to be killed by a human instead. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m from another world.¡± ¡°How many is that now?¡± he heard the woman behind him say, her voice deep and slightly hoarse. ¡°Three?¡± Alina looked to the woman he couldn¡¯t see and affirmed what she had said with a brief tilt of her head. He assumed that meant there were at least two others like himself, but he found it hard to read Alina¡¯s expression. He continued on. ¡°When I got here, I found myself in the forest on my hands and knees, looking at that creature you killed, and it had just decapitated someone. ¡°Do you know what that looks like? A body without its head?¡± She nodded. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°Right. Of course you do.¡± ¡°How did you survive?¡± ¡°You saved me,¡± he said, not wishing to recall how it was that he had survived. The silver-haired woman looked to the young lady to her left, who gently nodded to her. ¡°It¡¯s the truth but he¡¯s hiding something.¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± she said, turning back to him. He flashed his eyes at the young girl and noticed the pendant had a soft glow. ¡°What is it that you¡¯re hiding, I wonder?¡± ¡°Nothing important.¡± ¡°Let me be the judge of that,¡± she whispered softly. He almost had to check whether she was unsheathing her blade. ¡°I covered myself in the blood of the decapitated person. It was enough to hide myself and then you did save me. The demon walked this way before it noticed me and I decided to follow it, hoping it would lead me to others who could help me understand what¡¯s going on.¡± She looked at the young lady again, who nodded. ¡°Very interesting. And the leaves?¡± ¡°I used the blood to stick the leaves to myself. The creature seemed to sense with smell, so I hoped the leaves would camouflage the blood and my own scent.¡± She gave him a look as if impressed but he could tell she wasn¡¯t entirely convinced his story was true. ¡°It¡¯s the truth,¡± he protested, as if his words could sway her. ¡°I know,¡± she said, ¡°unbelievable though it is.¡± +1[WIS] Another stat point, and he was sure now it meant wisdom. Four wisdom points he had, and he could guess why. It seemed to be linked to making the right decisions or trusting his gut when the stakes were high. One when he had decided to use the blood to camouflage his scent. One when he had moved away from the headless corpse. One when he had decided to camouflage with leaves. And another now for telling the truth. His life had been at stake in all four instances. ¡°You¡¯re not the first we¡¯ve met claiming to be from another world and it¡¯s a claim that you would do well to keep to yourself. Most people will think you¡¯re mad but others? Others might believe there¡¯s something you can offer them. Something important enough that they¡¯d be willing to use excruciatingly painful means to extract it.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°I mean there are people here who would be very interested in you for information that they think you might be hiding but that you most probably don¡¯t have. They¡¯ll skin you alive like they would skin an animal for its hide. Except it won¡¯t be quick and they won¡¯t care when they realise you had nothing to offer them. All because you were careless with your words.¡± ¡°Should I have lied to you?¡± ¡°Of course not. I have Mira here with me. She can tell when someone is lying and had you lied to me, I might have had to see another body without its head.¡± She raised an eyebrow at him with a wicked smile on her lips and a wink. Had he thought those lips reminded him of summer berries? Blood of innocents, more like. ¡°So then,¡± he said, as he shifted his knees, ¡°if I were to meet someone like that, and they also have a way to tell if I¡¯m lying, what am I meant to do?¡± He shifted uncomfortably again. ¡°And please could I get up before I need my knees replaced?¡± The woman¡¯s laugh was rich, like honey mixed with sugar, and would as easily trap him as any ant. ¡°You can get up now.¡± With a sigh of relief, he pushed himself off the ground and rubbed at his sore knees, a leaf or two falling away from his outfit. ¡°Lucky for you, you¡¯ve met us. I¡¯ll arrange to have you taken care of but I was being serious. Do not mention it again until we¡¯ve figured out what¡¯s going on.¡± She turned to Mira, ¡°I don¡¯t know what it means but I imagine it has something to do with whatever¡¯s going on in this forest.¡± ¡°Can I ask who you are?¡± ¡°My name is Alina,¡± she said, turning back to him. ¡°Mira, you¡¯ve already met and over there is Kira¡± He turned to look, finally getting to glimpse his captor. His eyes narrowed and his mouth almost hit the floor. His ego fell through it. She can¡¯t have been more than sixteen or seventeen, and barely five feet tall. She was dressed in faded brown leathers and similar to the other two, she had gems all over her clothes in various colours, and several knives slotted into her belt. It reminded him of a time when his younger sister, who had been no older than Kira was now, had managed to sneak up on him during a round of paintball. She¡¯d absolutely blasted him, as younger sisters would. He smiled as he recalled the memory. A memory? From his old life. Frantically, he searched for anything else that came to mind, tried to think deeper but there was nothing. Still, one memory meant there would be more. Maybe he just needed to find the right triggers. Looking at Kira, he could see why she might have triggered him ¨C she looked similar to his sister. Slim, with a narrow face and thin lips. She had small green eyes with short blonde hair, and the softest of dimples in her cheeks. From an angle, she could almost look the same. ¡°She¡¯s being modest,¡± Kira said. ¡°Don¡¯t do it, Kira,¡± Alina responded. Kira stuck out a tongue at her. ¡°Sitting before you is the magnificent, the beautiful, Princess Alina. Fourth Defender of the Realm. Commander of the Academy of Champions. Glorious Leader of the Seven Sisters of Retribution.¡± Alina looked down at the wet rocks scattered across the bank, shaking her head. ¡°Ignore her,¡± she said, looking at him. ¡°She¡¯s lacking in charisma. We¡¯re trying to teach her.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not lacking in charisma,¡± Kira protested. ¡°What is the point of having your titles if you don¡¯t use them? Look at him. He doesn¡¯t have a clue what¡¯s going on but-, OW!¡± She started rubbing her head, frowning at Alina or maybe it was Mira. Mira hid her smile, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly but Alina made no attempt to hide her amusement, her mouth open wide with laughter. Tyler¡¯s wariness and trepidation began to subside as he watched the playful interplay between the three. Alina, imposing as she was, seemed at ease with her status, not at all egotistical with the impressive titles, though he wondered what they meant. Fourth Defender of the Realm sounded important. ¡°Excuse me,¡± he interjected into their levity and three sets of eyes immediately snapped to him. Wariness and trepidation were going to be his friends for a while, it seemed. ¡°I just have a few questions, if I may?¡± Night had begun to fall, darkness settling on the land as thousands of stars twinkled across the sky. A floating sphere of light materialised between them. He couldn¡¯t tell which of the three had made it appear, though Mira seemed the most likely. Alina nodded to him, still sat on the rocks, Mira at her side. Kira squatted by the water¡¯s edge, throwing small pebbles into the stream, breaking the reflection of the floating orb. Like Alina, he felt there was a practiced ease to her nonchalance. Nonetheless, for however dangerous they seemed, he was glad to have found them. ¡°Is this Cytheria?¡± Alina nodded. ¡°And is this the Kingdom of Aleria?¡± She nodded again. ¡°Where are we?¡± ¡°The Forest of Learning. We¡¯re about a third of the way from the exit.¡± She pointed across the stream. ¡°The Forest of Learning?¡± She looked at him the way a teacher would look at a teenage maths student, horrified they hadn¡¯t learned their times tables, before her face softened as if she had recalled a particularly slow student, where the only option was to smile and nod and feed them morsels of encouragement. ¡°I guess you wouldn¡¯t know anything, would you?¡± He shook his head. She looked towards the forest that he had come from. ¡°Kira. Find the others. We may as well make camp here tonight.¡± ¡°Oooooo,¡± Kira said as she stood. ¡°It looks like Alina¡¯s made another friend. Alina and Tyler, sitting by a stream¡­¡± A rock went flying through the air, but Kira had already darted towards the forest, moving faster than seemed humanly possible. The rock whistled through the place she had been, crashing into the water a moment later with a large splash. That could have done some serious damage if it had hit its mark. Still, Tyler couldn¡¯t stop himself from smiling at Kira¡¯s teasing, and neither could Mira. Alina wasn¡¯t smiling. She looked at him, her eyes narrowed. He had a distinct feeling that he might need to sleep with one eye open tonight. Or find somewhere else to camp. Maybe the demon sprites would have a place for him. ¡°My sisters are my companions. You, however, are not.¡± ¡°Not yet?¡± he raised his eyebrows at her and put on his best hopeful face. Nope. She wasn¡¯t amused. He stopped smiling. +1[CHR] ¡°Now, I suggest you sit down.¡±