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,

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

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.