Chapter 71: Georgio

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Alex was unconscious.

It took Brent a moment before he realized that Claire had bolted for the stairs, and he had to tear his eyes away from Georgio to follow her. The young man must have been his own age, but there was something different about him than anyone else he had ever seen.

Brent rushed around the side of the platform for the stairs. Other players were still marveling at the quick job Georgio had made of Alex, and expressing their amazement. Brent heard such things as “incredible speed” and “prodigy” being bandied about. As he crested the stairs someone loudly said that Georgio reminded them “of a young Solomon in the making.” At that moment the air rushed out of Brent’s enthusiasm for the match and suddenly he felt wary of this young player. He slowed himself to a walk to where Claire was behind over Alex. Christie was standing next to her and Georgio had not left the platform, instead curiously watching Claire trying to awaken Alex.

“Alex? Hello? Can you hear me?” Said Claire. She gently patted his cheek. “He’s out cold.”

“I didn’t mean to go that far,” said Georgio regretfully. He glanced at Brent and nodded as he came close. He actually smiled shyly. “Are you also one of Alex’s teammates?”

Talks strangly, thought Brent. He looked the young man up and down. He was about Brent’s height, but didn’t look like much standing this close. Clearly his looks belied his fighting ability.

“Yeah.”

“And your name?” Said Georgio curiously. “Claire has already told me hers.”

“Did she,” said Brent flatly.

“Don’t be rude, Brent,” said Christie sharply. “This is Brent, Georgio.”

“Brent. That’s a nice name. I like names.”

“What the,” Brent made a face. “Alright, are you special or something? Why are you talking like that?”

Georgio seemed confused and looked at the two women. Both sighed and stared daggers at him.

“Brent,”said Claire, rounding on him. “That is really rude! He can talk however he likes.”

“I’m just saying,” said Brent with a shrug. “So you like names, is it?”

“I guess so,” said Georgio slowly. “So are you two n the same guild?”

“Yes, we are,” said Claire. She patted Alex’s face again. He was still throughly out. “Along with this one, actually.”

“You did well against Alex, I’ll give you that,” said Brent. “So what guild are you with?”

“I’m not with a guild.”

“Going it alone?” Said Christie, sounding impressed. “You’ve come quite far then, Georgio.”

“Thank you,” said Georgio, his eyes widening as though he had just realized his situation was unusual. “I guess I have.”

Brent felt enormous frustration well up within him. Suddenly any awe he had for this dark haired man’s fighting prowess was replaced by disgust and indifference. He probably thought he was special going it alone. Probably had dreams of being a Deadly Solo or something.

“Well, good for you,” said Brent, trying to sound indifferent. “Now what are we going to do about Alex?”

“Here,” said Christie. She had a small vial in her hand and gave it to Claire. “Give him that. Will wake him right up.”

“What is it?” Asked Claire, peering curiously at the tiny potion.

“It’s a potion of Dreamless Awakening,” said the old guard member. “Always keep a couple on me.”

“Thanks, Christie,” said Brent.

Christie ignored him, likely annoyed by his treatment toward Georgio.

Claire carefully uncorked the vial and pinched open Alex’s mouth. She poured the potion in and then stood up, examining her friend and waiting for the effect to take place.

“Will only take a moment,” said Christie.

“May I ask your name?” Said Georgio, looking at Christie.

Brent scoffed.

“You seriously don’t know who this is?”

“Brent!” Said Claire again. She grabbed his arm and looked furiously at him. “What’s gotten into you?”

He wrested his arm free of his friend’s grasp.

“This is Christie of the Old Guard guild. Surely you’ve heard of them?”

“The Old Guard?” Said Georgio. He frowned and looked away as though in deep concentration.

Brent wanted to bury his face in his hands.

“Don’t worry,” said Christie with a smile. She chuckled and patted Georgio on the back. “I am in a well known guild. I actually like it when people have never heard of us.”

Seeing Christie touching him in such a friendly manner was like a match to the fuse. He was the one who was supposed to have her adoration, not this player without a guild. If only Astor had shown his face he could have impressed her and made up for his mistake in the cafe.

Alex gasp.

“Stone skin!” He shouted. Then he looked around, his eyes wide. “Claire? Brent? What happened?”

“You got done, is what happened,” said Brent in disgust.

“Are you alright?” Said Georgio. He offered his hand and Alex accepted it, coming to his feet. Some people in the crowed laughed at the spectacle but Brent silenced them with a glare.

“I...I think so.”

“He struck you right in the head,” said Christie.

“So...I’m out of the tournament then?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Oh,” said Alex, sounding deflated.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Oh?” Said Brent. “Is that all you got to say?”

Alex glared at him.

“Just a few minutes ago you didn’t even want to fight today,” said Alex.

Brent felt heat rush to his face. He couldn’t look at Christie.

“Don’t worry,” said Georgio. “It was a good fight regardless. Maybe I should have waited to use my Frenzy ability but you looked really strong and I didn’t want to take any chances.”

Alex seemed content with that, and shrugged his massive shoulders.

“Fair is fair, I guess,” said Alex. “Maybe we should get off the platform so the—.”

“Good idea,” said Christie quickly. “ARGO!”

The NPC hurried over as Brent and his friends left for the stairs. Georgio went the other way but not before telling Claire “good luck” on her next match for the day. They found their original spot had been taken and so wandered out of the tournament area to wait for the female portion to begin, which Christie had told them would not be until after lunch.

“What’s up with you?” Said Claire angrily after they were out of earshot of other players. “Georgio seemed alright but you immediately started acting mean to him.”

“Mean?” Said Brent. “He just knocked out Alex. Should I be happy about that?”

“Don’t pretend its just because of Alex,” said Claire, shaking her head. For the first time since spawning with her Brent saw her looking disappointed at him. “You were jealous of him, weren’t you?”

“Jealous? No way, Claire. You’re nuts if you think that.”

“Admit it,” said Claire. “You felt threatened because here is a good looking guy around your age who is a prodigy, is that it?”

“Good looking?” Brent reeled. “I didn’t even notice. As for a prodigy—who cares? He only used that one ability and basically sucker punched Alex. We’ve got no idea how he would fight without that. By the way, I literally killed a guy last night who used the same ability. Alex?”

Brent rounded on his friend who was looking sheepishly at them both while they argued. At the mention of the fight he got really quiet and looked at the ground. Even Claire clammed up and didn’t seem to want to talk about it.

“Well?” Said Brent again. “What do you think?”

“I think...”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know, Brent. Let’s just drop it. I wasn’t awake when you were talking to him. I wish I wasn’t out of the tournament but it is what it is. I don’t think you mean anything bad by what you’re saying.”

Brent wanted to scream his frustration. What weren’t these two seeing? Why was it so hard for his two friends to see his side? Georgio was clearly a phony and touched in the head to boot. Before he could say any of these things Alex spoke up again.

“I’m hungry.”

Yeah, what’s new, thought Brent.

“Find the others?” Suggested Claire. She didn’t sound upset with him anymore but wasn’t looking at him either.

Brent didn’t argue, as his stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Together they set off for The Royal, but still he couldn’t shake the image of Georgio defeating Alex so succinctly. He prayed he would get a chance to fight him in the finals, and he cursed himself for ever being impressed with the young man’s ability.

They made their way in silence back to the inn. The streets were eerily deserted as most of the players were back at the arena. Some NPCs went about their daily tasks, either sweeping their stoops or sitting outside their stores. They watched Brent and the others as they walked past and he could not shake the feeling that their nearly blank stares of curiosity masked something else. They had confirmed the night before that the innkeeper, an NPC, was working somehow with Xemnara. That opened the door to any of the NPCs always working with her. Before, Brent had mostly disregarded all the NPCs, but now, he felt himself on edge when around them and preferred their dull gazes to slip past him and on to their own predetermined destinations.

“Claire,” whispered Brent, trying to keep his voice low. “Do you think the NPCs can make their own decisions?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sounding hesitant to respond. After they had passed an NPC child petting a cat she glanced at him. “I thought they couldn’t, but Will clearly seemed to be able to last night.”

“Will?”

“The innkeeper,” muttered Alex to his right. “His name was Will.”

“Oh, right,” said Brent. “Whatever. Well he decided to join Xemnara, right? So he made a decision he wasn’t supposed to, am I wrong?”

“Maybe she forced him somehow,” said Claire. “Maybe she has powers that let her control the minds of players and NPCs.”

“If she can do that she wouldn’t have to fight us, though,” said Alex.

“Maybe,” said Claire in response. “But we are still pretty new to Esem in general. I am sure there are loads of things we don’t know. I remember reading about that one player who had the Nueromancer class—.”

“What’s that?” Said Alex.

“I was getting to that,” said Claire testily.

“Can bring people back from the dead?”

“No, Alex,” said Claire. “Let me finish. That’s necromancer, and it’s been outlawed for centuries. No advisor is allowed to sign a player for that. The Nueromancer class is different. It was only ever held by a single player and it allowed him to mind control people.”

“Really!” Said Brent with awe. He started thinking about all the ways that would be useful. “Why only one player?”

“I think the Advisor who signed him was forced by knife point to write the contract,” said Claire. She seemed to be reaching into her deep memories. “Which is unusual since usually the Advisors have powers to prevent such a thing from happening. But it worked, and the player was able to mind control people. Anyway, I don’t think he lived very long. A bunch of guilds came together to kill him.”

“Would be a very useful power to have,” said Alex.

“The word they used was ‘broken’,” said Claire. “That’s the term for when a class has an unfair advantage. Sometimes AION changes these things, and sometimes he doesn’t. The Fighter class used to have an ability called Undying which stopped the player from, you know, dying, if they got a serious injury. They could fight for hours with numerous wounds and push on through until a mage healed them. This was termed ‘broken’ and so AION changed it sometime later.”

“That’s too bad,” mused Brent. “Would have been very useful.”

“True,” said Alex, Brent knew he wanted to say “Daniel wouldn’t have died.”

“Anyway,” continued Claire. “My point is there is a lot we don’t know about Esem. We are basically babies compared to everyone else. Who knows what is possible in this world? Maybe Xem can mind control people and NPCs to her wishes.”

Brent and Alex thought about that in silence for a time. It was exciting that they had been spawned during an event. They usually only happened once every 50 years or so, so many players never experienced them depending on the age they spawned at or whether they died before ever seeing one. If there was one thing Brent knew well it was that the most notable players in history always rose up during the events, and the his chances at glory would be much higher now than without.

As they were nearing The Royal the street became truly deserted, which raised Brent’s hackles to the extreme. The sounds of the arena were too distant to hear now, but usually there would be NPCs walking the streets, or even players passing through. Something. But here it was as though no one had stepped in Birchtown for weeks. The windows were empty, the shops appeared closed, and even the NPC cats and dogs which prowled the area appeared to have vanished.

“It’s empty,” said Brent to the others.

“I noticed,” said Alex. “Strangely quiet.”

“Yes,” said Brent.

“Seems normal to me,” said Claire, but she spoke softly. “But let’s be careful. Swords?”

“Maybe,” said Brent. “Let’s see who is in the inn, first. I am sure Meredith and the others have moved Daniel’s body by now from the stable.”

When they approached the door to The Royal Brent come to a stop and motioned to Alex and Claire. They drew their swords. The door had clearly been kicked in, and the wood had splintered. He could hear voices from within, arguing with one another.

They’re back, thought Brent to himself with horror. We’re his abilities back yet? He was unsure. He nodded at his friends and then burst through the door.

The scene that met them was unlike any he had been expecting.

Markon and Astor Briggs turned around, blades in their hands. Chase was on the ground, a gash on the side of his head and bleeding profusely.

“Run!” Said Chase, but it was too late.

Markon grunted and then closed the distance between himself and Brent in less than a millisecond. Instead of using his blade he punched Brent in the stomach, doubling him over. Alex tried to swing his sword but his blade bounced of the large man’s shoulder such was his defense. Markon grabbed Alex by the head, lifted him bodily into the air, and slammed him on the ground.

“Too slow!” Hissed Astor. He made for Claire as quick as a snake and hit her over the head with the pommel of his sword, knocking her out cold.

Brent was on his knees, trying to get his breath back.

“So much for a guild, Chase,” said Markon over his shoulder. “You really should have left when you had the chance.”

“You didn’t think there would be consequences?” Said Astor with glee. He walked over to Chase and kicked him in the side. “You don’t mess with the Followers, got it?”

Chase groaned, but as Brent looked up he saw only defiance and rage in his leaders face.

“You won’t get away with this, Markon.”

“I already have,” said the big player. He gave a dry chuckle. “Fortunately for you our Mistress likes her games. We won’t be killing them for a while, so you have a chance to find us. We are a mile outside of town, close to Outpost Jade. But if you bring anyone but your guild we will be killing them all, got it? No running to that Old Guard bitch.”

Chase spat on the ground, to which Astor kicked him again. This time his face contorted in pain but he didn’t say anything or even look at the red haired hellion.

“Don’t try it, boy,” said Markon. Without looking he placed a hand on Brent’s head. He had been going for his dropped blade on the ground. Markon squeezed, and Brent felt as though his head was going to pop like a grape.

Brent gasped and Markon released him. He collapsed on the floor in pain.

“Can’t we kill one of them now?” Said Astor.

“No, you maniac,” said Markon with derision. “Xemnara want’s to do it herself.”

“Fine,” huffed Astor. He grunted and Brent thought Astor had kicked Chase again.

“Enough,” said Markon finally. “Let’s go. And don’t forget what I said, Chase. We will know if you come with anyone other than your guild.”

Chase didn’t say anything, and soon Brent was being shoved aside as Markon and Astor left through the front door. When he was sure they were gone he managed to sit up. Claire was barely moving on the ground and Alex was barely conscious. He dragged himself to his feet and found Chase.

“What happened?” Said Brent. “I thought they were gonna kill us.”

“They got them,” said Chase. There was shame in his eyes and he couldn’t look at Brent.

“Got who?” Said Brent. Claire and Alex were still on the ground behind him. “We’re still here, aren’t we? What’s going on?”

Chase shook his head.

“Then who?” Said Brent, a dark realization dawning on him. Panic filled his throat. “Who?”

“Thomas and Amelie,” he said. “They kidnapped them. They’re gone.”