Before my fingers could grasp the bronze marble, the door to our shack burst open.

“Elana, was that Dorin I saw leaving? Is Soren all better now? Sergeant Cale will be pleased to—”

Alon broke off as he saw me kneeling on the floor and spotted the treasured items before I could cover them up. The big blonde youth’s brows furrowed. “Elana, what are you doing?” he asked in a puzzled tone.

I sighed, wishing for the hundredth time that the blank piece of scavenged wood that doubled as our shack’s door had an actual lock. This wasn’t the first time that Alon had burst in and caught me in an embarrassing moment.

But perhaps it’s better he’s here.

The time for secrets was over. Alon was a firm friend. Two years older than me, he and Soren were of age, and since before I could remember, the three of us had roamed the city slums together. He could be trusted. Besides, someone will have to take care of Soren while I am away.

I rose to my feet. “Sit down, Alon. I have something to tell you.”

“Uhh…” he mumbled, his gaze darting about the small room. There were no chairs or anywhere obvious to sit. I had been forced to trade the few items of furniture we’d possessed to purchase Soren’s bed.

“On the bed, you big oaf,” I snapped. “Soren won’t mind.”

“Oh, alright,” Alon replied soothingly, seeming to sense my mood and moving hastily to comply.

The bed creaked. At seven feet tall, Alon was huge, and after a lifetime spent in some of the harshest environments the city had to offer, there was not an inch of fat on his broad frame.

His size and strength had not gone unnoticed. He and Soren had been marked by the goddess’ recruiters for one of the domain’s heavy fighter regiments, and until Soren’s untimely illness, both youths had spent their recent days in the training yards—preparing for war.

Carefully, I bent down and picked up the oiled cloth, making sure that my bare hands didn’t touch any of the items. “Do you know what this is?” I asked, pointing to the bronze marble.

Mutely, Alon shook his head.

“It’s a Class stone,” I said quietly.

Alon’s pale face turned even paler. “Elana! What are you thinking?” he half-shouted. His gaze darted to Soren’s sleeping form, and he lowered his voice. “Where did you steal that from?” he hissed.

“I didn’t steal it. This belonged to dad.”

Alon frowned doubtfully, but he didn’t dispute my words. “Still, you should get rid of it.”

I understood his dread. Proles were forbidden from handling any Game artifacts. Simply being caught in possession of one was a death sentence.

“I can’t,” I said.

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because it’s the only means of saving Soren.”

Alon sucked in a breath. “You mean to sell it? Elana, that’s foolish. You know—”

“No, Alon,” I interrupted. “I’m going to use it.”

The blonde youth stared at me uncomprehendingly. “What?”

“The Adjudicator speaks to me,” I said softly.

Understanding finally dawned on Alon’s face, and a flurry of emotions crossed his face, too quick to interpret. “Why didn’t you say anything? You could have left this hovel a long time ago. Why, oh why, keep quiet all this time?” he demanded.

His hands were shaking, I noted. “You know why,” I said sadly.

Alon and Soren hated players with the same passion I did. Like me, they blamed them for all the ills we’d suffered in our short lives, and until this point, nothing would have made me risk the hate of the only two people I cared about in the world.

The air rushed out of Alon, and he seemed to deflate. “I do,” he said heavily. His gaze drifted to Soren again. “You know he would tell you to let him die. Are you sure you want to do this?”

There was no judgment in his voice, but I couldn’t help but imagine a rift widening between us where, before, none had been.

“I am,” I replied, letting none of my turbulent emotions show.

Alon nodded. “Then tell me what you need me to do.”

That simply and without further ado, he unstintingly offered his aid. I’d expected nothing less. Still, it was gratifying.

Dashing forward, I flung my arms about him. “Thank you,” I whispered fiercely, tears rolling down my face.

✵ ✵ ✵

Alon and I spent a few minutes going over the plan.

With his help, things would go smoother. Even after becoming a player, gaining access to a dungeon wouldn’t be easy, at least not in this sector. They were all well-protected

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

But thankfully, the guards comprised of rank-and-file soldiers, not players, and Alon—a recruit himself—would have an easier time than me convincing his fellows to look the other way.

Once we had a strategy, I returned my attention to the bronze marble. As I stared fixedly at it again, the Adjudicator spoke to me.

I closed my eyes, ignoring the shudder that ran through me at the sensation of the strange voice in my head. Always before, I’d done my best to block him out. Now, for the first time, I actually listened to his words.

This stone contains the path of an empyrean. It is a basic Class that confers a player with three skills: air magic, fire magic, and light magic. This Class also permanently boosts your Magic attribute by +1 and your Faith attribute by +1.

“Well, what Class is it?” Alon asked, dancing impatiently beside me.

I bit my lip. I didn’t know much about Classes, but the one contained in the marble seemed unusual. I’d never heard of it before. “I’m not sure. The Adjudicator has labeled it empyrean.”

Alon frowned. “Empyrean?”

I glanced at him. “You haven’t heard of it either?”

He shook his head. “What skills does the Class give you?”

Game-gifted skills were what made players what they were. It was at the heart of all their powers. “Fire, air, and light magic.”

“Light magic,” Alon breathed. “That’s good,” he added, some worry fading from his face.

I nodded. Nearly all players pledged to Arinna wielded light magic. Having the skill myself would make blending in amongst the goddess’ followers easier. I wondered if that was by happenchance. Had my long-dead ancestor known where his descendants would settle when he bequeathed them the Class stone?

I dismissed the idle bit of speculation—it didn’t matter—and turned my attention back to Alon. “You better go,” I said.

His gaze darted between me and the stone. “You don’t want me to stay until...”

“I’ll be fine,” I assured him, despite knowing nothing of the sort. “Besides, the sooner we get this done, the better for Soren. See to your part, and I’ll make sure I’m ready when the time comes.”

“Alright. Good luck,” Alon said and swung back to the entrance. He paused on the open threshold and stared at me with a serious mien. “One more thing, Elana. No matter what happens, we’ll always be friends. Nothing will ever change between us. Never doubt that.” Before I could respond, he disappeared, shutting the door behind him.

He knows me too well, I thought, a small smile creeping onto my face.

Alon’s words had swept away much of my fears, and turning back to the Class stone, I picked it up without further hesitation. Squeezing my eyes shut, I sucked in a breath and waited in breathless anticipation.

Nothing happened.

Feeling slightly foolish, I rolled the marble about in my palm, willing it to do something. A heartbeat ticked by, then another, and still, there was no reaction from the stone in my hand.

Aargh. What now?

How long was this supposed to take? And, for that matter, what exactly was supposed to happen? I had no idea what to expect.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have chased Alon away. Maybe he would—

I broke off as my palm began to tingle. Was the stone becoming warm? At first, I thought I was imagining it, but then the heat increased tenfold, and I had to clamp down hard on my jaws to hold back the scream that threatened to escape.

Before my eyes, the stone was melting.

Is it supposed to do that? I wondered worriedly. I didn’t know and had no one to ask, but there was nothing I could do to stop the process now. Remaining frozen motionless, I watched avidly as the marble turned misshapen, then dissolved entirely to soak into my skin.

A moment later, the Adjudicator spoke in my mind.

You have acquired the empyrean Class. You have gained the base trait: elysian. This trait increases your Magic and Faith by +1 ranks. Your level cap for magic-based and faith-based skills has increased to 10. You have gained three basic skills: air, fire, and light magic.

Welcome to the Grand Game, Elana Shanis. You have selected your first Class and begun your journey as a player. The blood of your lineage sings strongly in you. Good luck, and may fortune favor your Game!

A welter of emotions passed through me. The confirmation provided by the Adjudicator was unnecessary. I could feel the new knowledge swirling within me.

Game-gifted skills.

And the power to wield fire, air, and light magic.

For better or worse, I am a player now—one of the privileged few. Only time would tell if I had made the right choice. I lowered my hands to my sides. They were still trembling. My gaze darted to the bed. What would Soren think of all this?

Will you forgive me my choices, brother? Or will you loathe me for what I’ve become?

It didn’t matter. I could live with Soren’s hate if he lived in turn. I’d made my choice, and now I needed to do what was required. Almost as if he had heard my thoughts and tasted my conviction, the Adjudicator spoke to me again.

You have been allocated a new task: Save Soren! Your brother has been struck down by Murkyl’s Blight, an insidious disease for which no known natural cure exists. Objective: Find a cure for Soren.

I shuddered. The old wives’ tales were true. The Adjudicator really could see and feel everything players did. Forevermore, I would feel his presence in my mind.

Setting aside my unease, I turned my attention to the next item dad had given me: the innocuous-looking book. I was all but certain now of its true nature. It could only be an ability tome.

Sure enough, picking up the book triggered another response from the Adjudicator. This time though, he chose to write the words across my mind rather than speak them.

You have acquired a basic spellbook: light’s fury. You have the necessary skill, light magic, to learn this ability.

That was all I needed to know. Opening the book, I began to read. The indecipherable words somehow made sense, and more Game knowledge seeped into my mind.

You have acquired the basic ability: light’s fury. This spell coats your hands and any weapon you hold with raw Light energy. Most creatures cannot endure the touch of such a concentration of the Force and will be damaged after coming in contact with it.

This ability consumes mana and can be upgraded. Its activation time is near-instantaneous. You have 0 Faith ability slots remaining.

My mouth dropped open in awe. In an eyeblink, I’d learned how to cast a spell. “So simple,” I murmured. If everything came to players this easily, it was no wonder they were so powerful.

Holding my hands before my face, I channeled magic for the first time. Obedient to my call, mana rose from my center and slipped down my arms. A fraction of a second later, my hands burst into light.

You have cast light’s fury. This is a channeling spell and will consume mana while active.

I paid the Adjudicator’s words no heed, my gaze locked onto the golden glow suffusing my palm and fingers.

This is power, I thought.

More power than any prole ever had.

The power to save Soren.

At the thought of my stricken brother, I broke off from my fascinated study of my hands and let the spell lapse. There would be time enough to experiment later, but for now, there was one more item I needed to inspect: the gold ring.