Chapter 32: Outpost Amber
No one said anything for a few moments. Sir Antony wiped his sword again, standing over the body of the highwayman leader, Bedge. Amelie dismounted the wagon to attend to Alexander who was beginning to groan on the ground, and Brent audibly sighed.
“What was that all about?” Said Brent. “You just killed him when I clearly had him. I could have finally leveled up.”
“Sorry about that,” said Sir Antony. He raised his visor to reveal a bearded face and dark brown eyes. He appeared to be in his mid thirties like Chase. “I happen to have a history with these three and couldn’t help myself.”
“Well done the lot of you,” said Marlon. He had also left the wagon and was examining the brutal injuries of the fallen NPCs. “That was a battle for the bards I would say.”
“Is Alexander okay?” Said Chase. In all the excitement he finally came to himself and concern for the guild gripped him. Brent was still bleeding and Alex was slowly rising to his feet with Amelie’s help.
“I’m fine,” said Alex groggily. “What happened?”
“You got rocked is what happened,” said Thomas. The boy was following Marlon around to examine the bodies. “That’s the second time someone hit you in the face and you dropped. First with Belek and now with that guy,” he added needlessly, pointing to Jeremy’s body.
Alex cast a withering look towards Thomas but didn’t say anything. He massaged his jaw where a dark bruise was beginning to form.
“At least we are all alive,” said Claire, who had been seeing to Brent’s cuts. She had wet a strip of cloth and was wiping the blood from the still brooding young mans arms. “We should thank the Knight for that, at least.”
“I feel some explanations are in order, along with an introduction,” said the Knight. He sheathed his sword and then removed his helm, tucking it under one arm. His brown hair was matted with sweat and grime coated his face. “As I said before, I am Sir Antony. I am apart of the Academy of Knights and have been patrolling this area for several months. I was just on my way to my encampment when I saw your wagon stopped by these three ruffians. Knowing their ways, I decided to intervene lest they get the best of you. Seeing your young fighters perhaps my assistance was unneeded. Tell me, lad,” said Sir Antony to Brent. “What contract are you on? That was a fine bit of swordsman ship for one so young.”
“Fighter,” said Brent begrudgingly. “Working on my second level.”
The Knight’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
“Not even a level two? Incredible! You must be the first level 1 Bedge has ever struggled against. If you didn’t already have a guild I would suggest you go to the Academy of Knights.”
“Is that a guild?” Said Claire.
“Not exactly,” responded Sir Antony. “Though we do enjoy some of the benefits a guild would. The Academy was established over 500 years ago by players in Avalon looking to train people on the path to the Knight contract. We enable young players—often directionless ones— the opportunity to learn from experienced Knights and expedite their leveling up.”
“And you are a student of them?” Said Brent, curiosity entering his voice.
“Not any longer,” said the Knight, shaking his head. “I ceased to be a student when I achieved my third contract mark and attained the class of Knight. Now I travel the roads of Avalon assisting those in need and sometimes sending candidates to the academy.”
“Does the academy teach everyone to talk like you?” Said Thomas.
“Pardon?” Sir Antony’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“Ignore him,” said Brent, rolling his eyes. “So with the academy how long does it take a player to reach their third contract? Must be pretty fast if you have a whole bunch of Knights helping out.”
“Yes,” said Sir Antony. “It’s much faster than one would be able to on their own, even with a guild supporting you. The Academy has centuries of experience in Avalon training players specifically to become Knights. It took me only 10 years to become reach my third contract mark though some have done it in as few as 6.”
Great, thought Chase as he avoided the guilds’ shocked glances. I’m going to have do some more explaining later. These Knights are so frustrating.
“Sounds like a fine institution,” said Chase. “What’s this about having a history with these NPCs?”
Sir Antony’s smile fell from his face, and his expression grew somber.
“They killed another player whom I was very close to some months ago,” he said.
“That’s horrible,” said Amelie, sounding sad. “A friend of yours?”
“She was my wife,” said Sir Antony. “And a brilliant Knight in her own right.”
The guild was silent as they heard this and no one spoke for a moment.
“I’m very sorry for your loss,” said Amelie finally. She sighed. “I did not realize that players got married in Esem.”
“I suppose if you are all fresh from the training island then player customs are unknown to you,” said Sir Antony. His horse had wandered over to him as if sensing his pain and was nuzzling his arm. “AION never made this world for us to have children. As you are aware, every human player is spawned upon a training island within Esem. You would think that would mean an end to marriages but some players still decide to make that commitment. So it was with my wife and I. We met at the academy and became inseparable. We trained together, fought monsters, completed untold quests, and less than six months ago, right before we set out to patrol these lands, these highwaymen took her from me.”
“If that is the case then I understand why you wanted to kill Bedge,” said Brent. “And why you want to continue killing them whenever they respawn. I would want vengeance too.
“It is not vengeance I seek, young man,” said the Knight. He looked across over the meadow and his face was again stoic and strong. “When an NPC resets they lose the month of memories leading up to their death. When they killed her I quickly dispatched them all, and so they will never remember her, or what they did. When I found them reset a month later they did not remember my face, or who they had taken from me. In the end they are just NPCs. They are beneath contempt. Mindless automatons driven to perform the same actions day after day with no minds of their own. I kill them, I suppose, to prevent another player feeling what I felt that day.”
“Well,” said Brent carefully. “It’s good that you do, I think. This lot is a nasty bunch.”
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Sir Antony shrugged.
“There are worse one’s out there, to be honest.”
The Guild watched as the knight grabbed the reigns of his horse and mounted it with a practiced ease. He donned his helmet but left the visor up.
“I must now leave you all,” he said. “I would say to be careful on this road, but you’ve now seen the worse of it and, besides, I think you can take care of yourselves. If you are ever in the Antil region stop by the academy and say hello. Even if you are not looking to become Knights we aid all players on their journey in Esem. It is apart of our code.”
With that said he saluted, turned his mount, and galloped off, leaving the carnage in his wake and seven stunned guild members to contemplate what he had told them.
“I can’t believe it!” said Marlon. Everyone looked at the old man.
“This bandit had a Spry Lilly flower in his purse!” He grinned and held up a small plant with light blue petals. “These are incredibly rare according to the text book Mrs Evergfay gave me and can be made into potent—.”
“Marlon!” Hissed Claire. “Have you no heart? That Knight just spilled his guts to us. Weren’t you even listening?”
“Of course I was,” said the old man. “But now he’s gone and I thought I would share my discovery.”
Claire shook her head in disgust but fortunately the interaction was enough to break the tension and the rest of the guild laughed at Marlons expression.
“Not very sentimental, are we Marlon?” Laughed Thomas. He was patting down the body of Bedge looking for a purse while avoiding Amelie’s disapproving gaze.
“Thomas, what do you think you are doing?” Said Amelie.
“Pillaging corpses, Amelie,” said Thomas matter of factly. “Chase said I should on account of being a thief.”
Now it was Chase’s turn to avoid her death stare.
“Alright everyone,” Chase said hastily. “Time to be off. If we are done picking flowers then we really need to leave this scene behind.”
“One moment,” said Amelie. “Brent is still bleeding. I need to heal him.”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Brent with a grin. “These are just scratches, besides, they will make nice scars once they heal up.”
“What they will make,” said Amelie, stepping down from the wagon. “Are severe infections. Come on, I’ll see to them.”
“Are you sure, Amelie?” Said Chase. “The last one nearly killed you and you haven’t practiced since.”
“I did some more reading last night from my book and see what I did wrong. Besides, these are just cuts, not broken bones.”
“Well, be careful,” said Chase. He was more of the mind to have Brent’s wounds heal naturally. But there was a part of him that wanted to see whether her healing spell had been a fluke the first time.
“What about my scars?” Said Brent hesitantly.
“Just let her do it, Brent,” said Claire. “Life is more than just scars, you know.”
Brent sighed but relented. The first was on his right forearm and upon closer inspection was deeper than Chase had first thought it to be. Amelie took his arm in one hand and hovered her other over the wound. A blue light emanated from her palm and when it disappeared the wound was closed with only Brent’s drying blood as evidence that had it ever been there.
I can’t believe it, thought Chase. Never had he seen a person with an ability to heal so quickly after taking the mage contract. He tried to remember how long it had taken Solomon to master his first spell and it was certainly longer than two days.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Thomas to Chase as he clambered back onto the wagon.
“Huh? Oh, I’m just impressed with Amelie is all.”
“Is what I am doing all that amazing?” Said Amelie. She had moved onto Brent’s second wound and was making short work of healing that one as well. “I signed as a mage, after all.”
“I know,” said Chase, scratching his head. “It’s just the speed at which you are able to use magic is what is surprising me. Most players take much longer.”
“Perhaps it’s more common than you think,” said Amelie. Brent’s wounds were now fully healed and he was examining them carefully. “You never had a magic contract, correct?”
“That’s true,” said Chase. He decided to keep his opinions to himself, but that a letter to Ghelion might be in order. So much had happened in the short time they had left the island that writing a letter to his friend might make a good way to process everything. Thomas’ kidnapping, the NPC kids who had overheard him boasting to the Bluehound gang about his old identity, and even Belek’s final, haunting words which he had been unable to forget.
“He is waiting in the wings of the infinite membrane of AION. His visage shadowed and sharp. He is coming to end the NPCs plight with fire and with freedom. Lord! Help this poor NPC…cough, cough…I can see him. He is waiting in the…wings…of…cough…he’s…just a…baby.”
If that death rattle didn’t smack of the so called Antagonista whom Ghelion had warned them about he didn’t think anything else could. As Chase looked at Amelie he only hoped that she, and all the others in his little guild could stay safe during whatever event it was that AION was ushering into the new millennia.
“Alright,” said Amelie, getting into the wagon. She looked tired but not nearly to the level of exhaustion the first spell had brought her to the day before. “Now we can go.”
Several hours later as the sun was creeping closer to the horizon a sign which read “Amber Outpost-1mile” passed them on the road.
“Almost there,” said Chase. “We can rest safely at the outpost and make some dinner as well.”
“Good,” said Thomas beside him. He had been drifting off for some time but the mention of food roused him. “I’m starving.”
“What’s at the outpost?” Asked Claire from behind. “Doesn’t sound like its gonna be a town.”
“Avalon is unique in Esem with these little outposts everywhere,” explained Chase. “A long time ago people were having trouble getting their mail because a guild called the No Knackers were going about killing mailmen. In response, a new guild called The Late Party was assembled to combat them. They ended up making a dozen or so of these outposts in order to safe guard the travel of the mailmen. Both of those guilds, along with the mailmen, are now gone. But players in Avalon still like to ‘keep the fire going’ as they say. Usually a couple older players live in an outpost and give people a place to stay for the night. And, obviously, it’s still a good place to mail a letter.”
“Why are the mailmen gone?” Said Thomas curiously. “Don’t people still need to send mail?”
“Yes they do,” said Chase. It felt good being able to explain all these things in his own way to people who had no idea about the history of Esem. It made him feel like a history teacher. “The Late Party decided that the best way to secure the mail was to become the new mailmen. They changed their name to The Gryphon Express and took up the job of delivering everyone’s letters, packages, and newspapers. And quite a bit faster than the mailmen ever could,” he added.
“How’s that?” Said Marlon, sounding interested. “And what happened to the old mailmen. I assume they were NPCs?”
“Without a job and a purpose they vanished, I suppose,” said Chase. “Well, AION obliterated their presence from Esem once he saw that players had filled the need of mail carrying themselves and never looked back. He likes to do that from time to time. As to why it is faster, you shall see once we get to the outpost.”
“Chase,” said Amelie. “I have been thinking about what Sir Antony told us about his wife. You’ve been in Esem for, what, over twenty years? Did you ever get married?”
The wagon was silent. Chase wondered whether Brent or Claire had read enough about him to already answer that question. Matrimony had always been a sensitive topic around him, partly due to the Old Guard and his own peculiar predilections.
“I almost did once,” he said, trying to sound casual. “It didn’t happen, though.”
“Oh,” said Amelie. “I shouldn’t have asked. Did she die like Sir Antony’s wife?”
Thomas nearly choked at her question and Chase heard Claire say “Amelie!”
“No, no, no,” laughed Chase. “Nothing like that. It just…didn’t work out.”
“She must have dumped you,” said Thomas with a cheeky grin.
“Not exactly,” said Chase.
“Then what happened?” Said Amelie.
“Perhaps Brent or Claire can tell you,” said Chase evasively. “I am sure they read about it in the island library.”
“Sorry, Chase,” said Claire. “I never got around to that part of your life as Spade. Maybe Brent did.”
“I know,” said Brent, sounding like he was fighting back laughter. “But I rather hear it from our leader.”
“Come now, Chase,” said Marlon. “It can’t be that bad. Did you steal some money from her and that’s why she left you?”
“What? No!” Chase looked behind him at the wagon where the guild was and frowned. “I know my appellation was ‘Spade the Thief’ but I didn’t go around stealing from my friends.”
“Then spit it out,” said Thomas eagerly.
Chase sighed.
“I broke it off with her,” he said. “Not the other way around. The relationship wasn’t working out.”
“Well, I’m sorry that happened—,” began Amelie.
“He didn’t just break it off,” cackled Brent. “He left her AT THE ALTER!”
Claire and Amelie immediately began swatting him in frustration from behind and he had to stop the horse in order block their exasperated blows. All the while Marlon, Brent, and Thomas, howled with laughter.
“Girls, relax! It was a long time ago! Ouch!”
“You’re a bad man, Chase!” Fumed Claire. “I can’t believe you did that!”
“It was really bad, I know, now stop hitting me!”
“You-are-a-bad-bad-bad-bad-man!” Amelie punctuated her words with jabs into his side while Claire attacked him from behind.
The scene would have continued for much longer if a booming voice didn’t sound from above.
“WHO GOES THERE!?”
Chase put his hands up and looked around. The light was mostly gone but he could see no one on the road. He looked to Thomas and saw the boy looking wide eyed to the sky.
“THIS IS BOYKIN OF THE GRYPHON EXPRESS. I HEARD A DISTURBANCE AND DECIDED TO INVESTIGATE. WHO ARE YOU.”
Some twenty feet in the hair a concerned looking man dressed in the brown and gold uniform of The Gryphon Express was hovering above them on a Skyrider. The machine was the color of burnished gold and hummed as it stayed level above the ground. It was shaped like a firefly without any wings.
“We are The Seven Banes, and we are doing fine,” said Chase, calling up to the player. “By the way…I need to send a letter!”