I hesitated for a moment. What was a Covenant? I knew the word meant something like a promise, but did that mean I was sworn to this guy’s Covenant for the rest of the game? What if there was a better one out there? Only one way to find out.

“Yes, I’ll join your Covenant.” I bowed my head reflexively as I spoke.

Covenant established.

“Now, let me share my miracles. Only, their ultimate effectiveness will be determined by your efforts and your faith.”

A menu appeared before me: Purchase Item, Enter Covenant.

I tried Purchase Item first, but of all the miracles offered I couldn’t afford any. I had already spent my souls on levels, and I wasn’t sure I regretted it. Miracles seemed a bit more spell-like than my character build called for.

“I’ll have to come back later,” I said, not sure I meant it.

“Come again. The effectiveness of the teachings depend on your faith.”

There was something about the man that unsettled me. He spoke with the generic, canned phrases you’d expect from an NPC, but there was also an undercurrent of fervent insistence whenever he mentioned faith.

I recalled the Faith stat I’d seen when I was looking at my character sheet. Is that all it was, or was there more to it? Petrus had mentioned “the Gods” as well… I resolved to keep an eye out for any further mentions of game-world theology.

Past Petrus, I walked up a long, thin staircase. It twisted back and forth and ended in a landing that had probably once led to the highest floor but now showed only empty air and a few crumbling ramparts. A corpse with a loot sphere was slumped on the edge, and I approached carefully. I might survive a fall, but it wouldn’t be pleasant.

With a deep breath and a reminder that none of this was real, I shuffled forward and held my hand out for the loot. As soon as I saw the notice that I’d received a Soul of a Lost Undead, I hurried back to the safety of the staircase.

So…It turns out I’m afraid of heights. Learn something new every day, right? Logically, I knew that this was the one place I didn’t have to worry; if I fell to my death, the worst that would happen is I would have to retrace my steps to retrieve my bloodstain. Instead of pain, I would feel the full-body vibration that simulated pain. Logically, I had nothing to fear.

Not that that changed anything. I peeked over the edge of the stone landing once more and immediately felt my gut clench.

Yep. I’m afraid of heights. Even virtual, totally harmless heights. No way was that going to cause problems for me throughout the game.

I scurried back down the stairs, berating myself for being afraid in a place where literally nothing could hurt me, when I passed a doorway that made me pause. It led to a small room with nothing in it, and there was a perfectly square hole where the floor should have been. It was pitch black and impossible to gauge how deep it was.

I was transfixed. On one hand, probably the only thing scarier than heights was the total unknown of that pitch blackness. On the other hand, the only things I’d encountered on this path were Petrus and the Soul, and there just had to be more here than that.

After a few minutes of hemming and hawing, curiosity won out. I had to know what was down there.

I crept towards the hole one tentative step at a time. I imagined it would have looked way cooler if I just jumped down, but what I did instead was sit on the edge so my feet were dangling into the hole, reconsider the whole thing about ten million times, then finally push off before I could talk myself out of it.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

I fell through the darkness for a grand total of a split second, landing almost immediately in a crouch. I couldn’t help but laugh. If I stretched, I could touch my fingers to the ledge I had just jumped from.

A thin strip of light guided me through the dark tunnel until I was able to jump down onto a grassy hill, where two classic-looking treasure chests dotted the grass. I ran a hand over the closest one, marveling at the smooth feeling of wood beneath my palm. The last time I’d played a virtual reality game, it had been little more than an immersive visual experience. I’d still had to use controllers to interact with the virtual world, and though I could move around, I hadn’t been able to feel or smell the manufactured world.

Not so with Dim Spirits. As I heaved open the wooden chest, the cedar scent mixed in with the breeze, along with a white mist that quickly dispersed to reveal…bones? I added the six of them to my inventory and checked the description.

[Homeward Bone] Return to last bonfire rested at.

That would definitely come in handy. Thinking back to the way I’d reached this location, I didn’t think I’d be able to go back the way I’d come, even if I could reach my fingers over the ledge.

I opened the next chest, which looked to be a perfect copy of the first, cedar scent and all.

[Morning Star] +3 damage

I immediately swapped my sword out for the Morning Star, which looked like a mace. It was heavier than the sword, but it gave me a better feeling of security. I wouldn’t need to hit as fast if each hit knocked the enemy silly.

So armed, I strode around the corner of the stone fortress–and nearly tripped on a third chest.

[Cracked Red Eye Orb] Invade another world.

I stared into the orb for a long moment. It felt like heavy glass, with black and red smoke roiling within, occasionally shaping into an angry red eye. Invade another world. I looked around at the empty hill and the vast graveyard that stretched before me. Would this be how players interacted with each other? The thought of not being so alone in this game called to me more strongly than I was prepared for. Since when did I need anyone else? What were the odds I found somebody I liked, anyway?

Yet, the isolation of the day clawed at me. My only company had been the rotting undead and the two NPCs.

I had been walking as I thought, and just as I decided to use the Orb, I froze. There was a clattering sound, like someone had cut the strings of a wooden puppet and let it fall down the stairs.

I watched in horror as scattered bones and armor pulled together to form two complete skeletons. Each one held a gleaming blue blade and a rusted shield.

I dropped the Orb into my inventory and hefted my mace. Just as the first skeleton pulled back his sword, I swung with all my might and slammed the head of the mace directly into its chest. The force of the blow dispelled the magic that held it together, and the bones went flying across the graveyard. Before I had time to celebrate the blow, the second skeleton swung its sword and connected with my ribcage, sending a shock of vibration through my body.

I hauled the mace back, the slowness of the motion making me reconsider the heavy weapon, and I slammed the head of it down–only to hit the skeleton’s shield.

The first skeleton was already reforming its body, and I could see I had only knocked down a small chunk of its health. I backed up, giving myself more time to raise the mace once more, and I paid closer attention to the timing of my hits, so I could scatter their bones. If I knocked one to pieces, I could give my full attention to the other. Rinse and repeat, and it was like I was only fighting one skeleton at a time.

Just as I was gaining confidence, I once more heard the sound of a puppet falling down the stairs. Only this time, the sound was coming from behind me. I turned to look and saw two more skeletons forming up at the edge of the cliff, beside a couple battered headstones and the faint glimmer of a loot sphere.

A sudden vibration punched through my stomach, and my hands instinctively cupped around the gleaming blue blade.

YOU DIED.

I opened my eyes at the Firelink Shrine, all thoughts of the Cracked Red Eye Orb gone from my mind. Dim Spirits was just as hard as everyone had said it would be. Those skeletons would take five or six hits each to die, and I would have to master my timing and my shield-work to do it. I couldn’t let them push me into their reinforcements, so I’d have to be more wary of the battlefield.

I took out my mace for a practice swing. “Whatever it takes,” I promised myself, “I’m gonna kill those skeletons.”